#matty with babies and cats Oh i am not okay

[wreckedandpolemic]

https://x.com/scaryssincerity/status/1778157870875398655?s=46&t=R33U26AUVdWl12ICAAKbRw

white and gold matty when the kids force him to get a cat because alanis really wanted one and forced vera and fiona to do puppy dog eyes at matty but then he loves the cat more than they do

oh my goddd this is so fucking cute if you haven’t watched the video do yourself a favour your life Will be better for it!!

so i bet alanis is eight or nine when her best friend gets a cat, and once she goes over there to visit she will not rest until she gets one of her own!!! at first she comes to you, and you laugh to yourself. truthfully, you’ve wanted a pet for a while — it feels like the last thing you need for your little family to be complete, and you’re not a dog person. but you don’t think matty will go for it, and as it turns out, you’re right.

“absolutely fu-absolutely not. it’ll get hair everywhere and scratch up our furniture.”

“more than the kids already do?” you tease, and matty rolls his eyes.

and that, you think, is that. but you underestimated the abilities of three healy girls with their big, healy, brown eyes and the magical persuasive power that seems to be genetic. “please, dad?” alanis whines, shoulder to shoulder with fiona and vera, all wide-eyes and looking like butter wouldn’t melt. “i promise we’ll look after it. you won’t even know it’s here, promise!” matty caves after less than a week of pleading, always weak for his girls.

after a couple of weeks of searching, you adopt the final member of your family, a little grey kitten that alanis names ghost. you warn her seriously that ghost is her responsibility, and she takes it on resolutely. bossy little diva that she is, she declares to her sisters that ghost is my cat, and swaps her chores for ‘cat time.’ the first time you catch her doing it, you want to scold her, but matty’s shoulders are shaking too hard for it to have any effect.

“she’s a little entrepreneur, aren’t you, lani?” he laughs, ruffling her hair as fiona runs in from tidying alanis’ room, scoops up the cat and pelts off again.

even though matty grumbles for weeks, all fucking cat’s got white fur on my black suit, hasn’t it and i don’t understand why you all love it so much, s’not that special. at least a dog can do tricks, it’s not long before he warms up to her.

he starts to sit with her in his home office while he works, playing it off as a distraction from his boredom. god, you’re so annoying, he’ll mutter fondly, dangling a loose piece of string and laughing as she jumps up to try and catch it. stupid name, too. fucking ‘ghost,’ what was she think— she’s nine, she wasn’t thinking. should be called something cool, like the beatles. he gasps. you like that? beetle? yeah, okay. maybe you’re not so bad, beetle.

after that, he and the cat are inseparable, matty cradling her like she’s one of his babies. alanis marches into the living room and stomps on his foot, lifting ghosts into her arms and complaining, “you stole my cat, dad! been looking everywhere for her! you said you didn’t even like her!”

you watch the scene, laughing to yourself as alanis slopes off, resting your head in matty’s lap. “maybe she is too much like me,” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief as you chuckle.

“aw, you’ll get the cat back later,” you say, pouting teasingly up at him. “‘m better than a cat, anyway.”

“you certainly are,” he grins.

so, long story short, nothing is stronger than the bond between a grumpy, middle-aged father and the cat he swore he didn’t want. he still refuses to call her anything but beetle, though.

[darling-i-read-it]

Heartbeat

Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: pregnancy

Author’s Note: this was so sweet but i had to look into pregnancy and it was horrifying lol. Anyway matthew <3 (also I kinda changed the request a bit I hope you don’t mind!)

Requested: by anon, Matt finding out your pregnant before you can tell him, not wanting to ruin whatever you have planned to break the news and when you do, you found a way to put Braille over the sonogram so Matt can feel where his lil baby is and you do that for every sonogram, basically labeling where their little head is or feet are or hands and stuff. And telling him in detail which parts of him the baby has when the lil one comes out. “Has daddies nose and mouth, has their lil fists all clenched ready to fight the bad guys of Hell’s Kitchen. Just like daddy” 🥺 I am soft for Matt Murdock being a dad.

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

It startled Matt at first. He hadn’t been paying much attention. He had just woken up one morning, crawled out of bed and started to brush his teeth when he heard it. A faint heartbeat. He knew his surroundings well, better than most people knew their homes and the people in it. He knew that you were the only other person here, still sound asleep in your bed by the sound of your resting heartbeat.

He carefully put down his toothbrush and tilted his head to the side, honing in his hearing. There it was. A very faint heartbeat. He followed the sound all the way back to yours and his shared room where you were still laying. Matt was so confused. It didn’t hit him right away. He climbed onto the bed, making sure you hadn’t taken home a cat or something. Then he leaned over your sleeping body and it became louder.

It was in you.

He sat up, gasping softly, not wanting to wake you up. Oh. That heartbeat was the sound of his baby. He stumbled back off the bed and then back to the bathroom, in fear of you seeing him processing this moment. He curled his fingers around the sink, taking deep breaths. He was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. He had fought fear and won. Why was he so scared now then?

You had talked about children. You both wanted them but you never expected them so soon after your wedding. He was still recovering from the latest Fisk problems. But how would you react?

He would wait for you to tell him. Yeah. He nodded to himself. That sounded reasonable. No doubt you had a special little surprise planned and he had no intention of ruining that.

He covered the smile that was creeping onto his face.

==

You found out you were pregnant only a week before Matt had. You were a month along and thankfully had no awful symptoms that clued you in right away until a doctor's appointment. You were shocked in the moment but realized you probably shouldn’t have been. You and Matt had a healthy relationship. Very healthy.

“Are you sure?” you asked your doctor. He nodded.

“You’ll probably have an ultrasound here in a couple weeks. There are a lot of things to think about,” your doctor said, excited by your awe. Your eyes went wide with concern.

“Oh my husband's blind. He won’t be able to see the ultrasound,” you said. Your doctor nodded once, a look of compilation going over her face.

“There is this new type of ultrasound. It’s kind of pricey and we don’t do it here but it’s around.”

“Well don’t leave me hanging!”

==

You came home and Matt could hear your heart beating extra hard. He had gotten used to the extra faint heartbeat in the house. He would listen intently, making sure it was still there. The sound of your movements had always eased him. He imagined this would just help ease him further.

You put something down.

“Hey Matty,” you said, voice nervous. You turned the corner to the kitchen, where Matt was standing. He was making dinner.

“Hey. You okay?”

“I have something to tell you.” This was it. Finally. He was getting tired of pretending he didn’t know.

“Are you alright?” There was silence and he assumed you were nodding. You grabbed his hand and gently led him to something in your other hand. He took it, confused at first. He felt the silicone like material. You were holding your breath.

It was then he realized that it was an ultrasound. You cleared your throat and put your hand over his finger. You trailed over the top of it.

“This is the baby's head,” you whispered. “Your baby.”

“It would be really awkward if it wasn’t,” he said but his voice came out laughing, borderline giggling. You laughed too, the tension of the moment being broken. You continued to move his finger.

“This is the nose. You know, they aren’t very quite yet, still growing. But.” You moved his hand over to the indentions of the hands. “They do have their lil fists clenched up. Already ready to fight the bad guys of Hell’s Kitchen just like daddy.” He was gonna cry. He shook his head, smiling widely. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Whatcha say Matty?” you whispered, nervous that he hadn’t said anything much.

“I say I am not letting that little kid fight a day in their lives,” he whispered. He swooped down and kissed you, one of his famous mouth open a bit kisses that made you go wild, the whole reason there was a baby in the first place.

“Whatever you say.” He kissed your forehead and closed his eyes.

“I can hear it,” he whispered.

“Hear what?”

“The baby's heartbeat.” You pulled away, surprised.

“Seriously? Does he sound okay?”

“Yea-he?” You laughed.

“I don’t know. I just feel like it’s a boy.” He put his hand on your stomach, taking a deep breath.

“That would be awful. My grandma used to say, uh, ‘Be careful of the Murdock boys. They got the devil in em.” You put your hands on his chest.

“Yeah well, I like a little devil in my boys.”

Marvel Tag List: @dpaccione, @demonchick1, @karasong, @elisaa-shelby, @lov3vivian, @russian-soft-bitch, @alexxavicry, @valentina-luvs-u, @demigirl-with-problems, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @caswinchester2000, @mads-weasley, @torresbarnes, @gxrlwithluv, @allthingsavenger-y, @navs-bhat, @inas-thing, @secret-obsessions

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 25-27

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 18k

chapter 25

“What do you mean we’re working a missing dog case?” Hotch questioned his whole entire life at that moment as Mindy and Garcia explained the case they think they found.

“Sir, I promise you’re going to want to listen to this,” Garcia said softly, her green dress and pink hair pom-poms really reassuring him that everything was fine.

Y/N watched him roll his eyes and wish he was somewhere else, he had been getting more and more fed up with work lately. Having a hard time with Strauss, his wife, and the job in general. After Hayley almost died last year and being stabbed, he had the worst luck on the team.

“It’s going to take a minute for you to see what we see,” Mindy matched Garcia’s aura perfectly, dressed in a cat sweater.

“All 5 of these families have reported dogs missing in the Sacramento area. You think that’s not that weird, they’re probably stealing dogs for fights and step one in the serial killer handbook. But you’d be wrong,” Garcia explained, flipping from photos of missing dog posters to murdered families.

“The dogs go missing right, the parents put all their information onto a flyer, the flyer gets plastered into the neighbourhood where everyone sees it. The unsub takes the flyer, and the dog and returns it to the family just to get inside of the house. He learns what their safety protocols are like and then he decides to break in and murder,” Mindy laid it all out easily for them to follow.

“Is there any evidence that the killer is the dognapper?” Prentiss asked, chewing on the end of her pencil as she tried to wrap her head around it all.

“No,” Garcia pressed her lips together quickly. “But! Family number 5, they were murdered on Friday. Their crime scene is the newest, it’s where we’ll get the best idea of what’s going on.”

“Sir,” Mindy added. “If I’m correct about this, another family is going to die in 2 days. There’s been another small dog reported missing in Sacramento, the same type of family and everything. It’s a signature if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Send us everything you have, wheels up in 20,” Hotch sighed, taking his things and leaving the room.

“Is he okay?” Y/N asked Rossi.

Dave and he were the closest, Hotch never told his secrets of personal gossip to anyone else. He knew Rossi understood family problems the best. Having been married and divorced 3 times each.

“Don’t repeat this, Garcia that means you,” he teased her quickly. “He asked Hayley if she wanted more kids, after seeing you and JJ expanding the BAU’s gifted children program. She said she’d only have another baby if he took a few years off.”

“Oh,” Y/N wasn’t surprised. If Spencer wasn’t in the BAU he probably wouldn’t get it either. “He’s young, he can come back at any time, as you did.”

“Which is what I said to him. He just doesn’t know how he’d fill all the time yet, he doesn’t have an interest in fishing or cigars like moi,” Rossi explained. Standing up and straightening out his suit, “not to mention the writing chops to keep your brain fresh.”

“Come on grandpa, it’s time to board the plane you can brag later,” Derek patted him on the back. “Some of us like to stay active and have fun on our time off.”

“I’ll have you know I’m very fun,” Rossi argues as they leave the room. They were like a bunch of teenagers sometimes.

“Well, I’ll see you in a few days, just be in Vegas by Sunday at 2 pm,” Y/N frowned at Spencer. “Call me when you’re free?”

Spencer leaned in and kissed her softly. Rubbing his hand over her belly as he did so, saying goodbye to the little dude in there. “Be good, take care of each other.”

She smiled, wishing he didn’t have to go again. “We always do, come home to me safely boy wonder.”

In Penelope’s office, Mindy had basically moved in. It was big enough for the two of them and they worked together anyway. Sharing all the computer space, rolling around each other like crazy people as they switched jobs. That meant that Mindy’s office became Y/N’s office when she stayed back on a case.

Y/N would be 33 weeks pregnant as of Thursday, and officially Mrs. Dr. Reid by Sunday.

If everything went according to plan. This case seemed simple enough to get them home in time. If not, the flight from LA to Vegas wasn’t even that long. Y/N and Will had a plan if this was to happen, JJ and Spencer would head right to Vegas while Will and Henry flew in with Y/N. All she really needed was her wedding dress and hospital go-bag, and Spencer.

She wasn’t going to go into labour any time soon, Matty was still way too high and she was barely even having Braxton hicks contractions yet. If her body wasn’t practicing, surely it wouldn’t just start. She was a planner, she planned everything and this pregnancy didn’t seem to listen. All she wanted was for him to be born on or after June 10th, healthy and happy, that’s her only wish.

She hated cases like these, ones that made her sit behind a desk and just look at everything till it made sense. But it never did, not in her brain. Thinking like an unsub was the only time it made sense, but she never understood it. Kidnapping a dog just to kill a family was never going to be something one could just understand.

The only idea she had was to get someone inside the newest victims’ house and just wait for the unsub to return the dog. It would be the easiest way to bring him in for questioning. So she called Hotch.

“Hotchner,” he answered shortly.

“Hey, I was just wondering if you had a plan yet? If not, I’ve been thinking.”

“We’re trying to find a way to get eyes and ears inside the vics home,” Hotch explained, it sounded like he was driving and yelling over the speaker.

“I was thinking you could send in Reid or Morgan posing as a tutor or coach of some kind, then you can hide the equipment in the bag they bring in, it would be the least suspicious,” she ran her thoughts through to him.

“That would work, I’ll have the team see what we can do from our end,” Hotch ended the call abruptly. Still in the bad mood from when he left.

She couldn’t blame him, it’s a hard spot raising kids and having this job. Y/N and Spencer were still trying to figure out how they were going to pull it off. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for Haley, always being alone with Jack and half the time her life was in danger. The risk that came with the job almost didn’t feel worth it, especially when it meant losing your family on top of everything else.

They sent Derek in, with Penelope in his ear, as he set up the cameras and microphones. Setting up 24/7 patrol across the street in a model home. Meaning that Y/N’s job was basically over and all she had to do was kick her feet up and eat snacks until she could go home.

—

Spencer crawled into bed 2 days later around 4 in the morning, cuddling into her without even taking off his work clothes. She barely slept when Spencer wasn’t home, she opened her eyes when she noticed he was there, as if she hadn’t even slept yet.

He smelled like hotel soap and stale airplane air. “Hi,” he whispered as he tried to cuddle in close to her, being held back by her belly.

“Home just in time to have to fly out again,” she smiled at him softly.

“I know,” he sighed. “I doubt the bureau would like us if we used the jet to travel to a wedding. It’s bad enough we have one and no other unit does.”

“Are you excited or nervous?”

“Both.”

“Mmm,” she hummed along. “I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“I still haven’t written my vows and,” she stopped herself, frowning a little as Spencer laid a hand on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s all happening so fast. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to enjoy any of it and I’m worried if this is how fast the lead-up is, then how fast will the night be over?”

“Oh bunny,” he cooed. “I’ll make sure we get a moment alone, how about we sneak off during the party and go to the swing and just spend time together? Really make the most of our day.”

“Okay,” she smiled again. “A part of me wishes it was just us.”

“How about this,” Spencer said as he sat up, turning on the bedside lamp before getting out of bed. He looked through his underwear drawer and pulled out the box the rings were in. “Marry me, right now?”

“What?” She laughed.

“Just me and you, marry me?”

“It won’t count this way?” She rebutted, sitting up as well as she squinted in the light. Trying to wake up more.

“you’re not religious and you hate the government even though you work for them,” he reminded her. “Having a sheet of paper and dedicating my life to you are two completely different things.”

“I told you I don’t have my vows ready!”

Spencer sat on the bed, sitting directly across from her as he placed the rings on the bed. Taking both her hands in his as he looked into her eyes. “Just make it up?”

“You’re insufferable,” she teased him.

“And you love me,” he teased right back.

“Fine, Spencer Reid, you big fuckin’ dork,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “My whole life I’ve just wanted to love you. I don’t know how I managed to pull it off, but here I am."

She let out a long, shaky breath as she continued. "You complete me, I don’t feel right when you’re not around and I never want to lose you. Marrying you means more to me than just becoming your wife, I don’t care about the term or the tax benefits," she laughed as a tear fell down her cheek. he wiped it away quickly.

"I was perfectly content just being in your rotation. Being your partner for life is a blessing to me, I’m going to love you forever.” She picked up and ring and put it on his finger.

His eyes were glossy as he watched her shaking hand slip the ring over him. He loved her more than he even knew how to describe at the moment.

“Do you remember that one time you asked me to show you how a real man loves a woman?”

She laughed, looking down at her gigantic belly. “Kinda hard to forget when I’m carrying around this extra 30 pounds.”

“It reminded me of a quote I read on a swing one time,” he said softly, watching her eyes gleam as she knew where he was going.

“The unqualified truth is, that when I loved Y/N with the love of a man, I loved her simply because I found her irresistible. Once for all; I knew to my sorrow, often and often, if not always, that I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be. Once for all; I love her nonetheless because I knew it, and it had no more influence in restraining me, than if I had devoutly believed her to be human perfection.”

“What’s that from?” Y/N couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her cheeks, she had never known what book he was reading. She always wondered what his thoughts were in that moment when their eyes locked in remembrance all those years ago.

“Great Expectations by Charles Dickens,” Spencer replied, starting to cry as well.

That’s when she remembered it, looking over at the book that had been sitting on his bedside table for months. It was the book he re-read the most, the book he was reading that first night in Wichita when she asked to crawl into his bed. The book he put down before they conceived Matthew. The whole time she was falling in love with him, the way she did as a child, he was reading the same book because it reminded him of her.

“I didn’t expect that book to hold such a place in my heart the first time I read it. I only brought it to the park with me that day because it was the closest book to me, and I was having a really hard day,” he stopped to wipe his tears softly. “Yet somehow, every single bad day in my life has been made better by you. You’re my greatest expectation, and the only one I’m trying the hardest to live up to.”

“I love you,” she replied to him softly. Holding his face in her hands now as she stared into his eyes, “you’re always going to be everything I’ve ever wanted and all I’ll ever need. You’ve met every expectation, and beyond.”

“I love you,” he smiled. He took her left hand off his cheek, sliding the silver band over her ring finger, pressing it snugly against her engagement ring. “forever.”

“And then some,” Y/N added before kissing him softly.

She smiled against his lips, sitting back and looking at him with complete wonder. “Dr. Y/L/N,” she teased him, pretending to tip her imaginary hat.

“Agent Reid,” he copied her causing them both to laugh again.

“So when is our real anniversary then?” Y/N asked softly, trying to remember what day of the month it was.

“It’s April 20th.”

“Our anniversary cannot be 4/20!” She panicked. “Oh. My god!”

Spencer laughed from down deep in his gut, laying down against the sheets as she smacked his arm lightly. “I’m serious, but that’s so funny though,” she laughed too.

She laid back against the sheets then, Spencer cuddled into her side. His face in the crook of her neck while laying a leg over hers. She held him as close as she could, Matthew really starting to get in the way of everything she did now.

She let out a deep breath as she settled with Spencer against her. “I love you so much, my husband.”

“I love you more, my wife,” he replied. The words sounding like heaven on his lips.

chapter 26

She let out a deep breath when the dress actually zipped up. She was so worried that in the last 2 weeks her body had completely changed. JJ finished with her zipper, fluffing her dress and making sure everything was in place.

Her mom was wiping her tears for the 4th time in the last hour, Y/N couldn’t stop laughing every time she heard her sniffle. It didn’t feel as life-changing as her mother made it seem, Spencer and Y/N were already married in her opinion, this was just a nice formality for their parents.

She could hear all the people talking in her parent’s yard, a few kids yelling as they ran around each other. People were already drinking, there was food and snacks all around. It was just a big party where they were going to tell everyone exactly how much they loved each other.

As much as she was ready mentally, her body was shot. The butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t leave, the baby was kicking from the anxiety in her body no matter how hard she tried to calm down. It was nerve-wracking to be so open in front of so many people.

It was even worse with the fact she hadn’t seen Spencer since yesterday. As much as he claimed he wasn’t superstitious, he really didn’t want to see her before the wedding. Claiming his mother was the worried one, Y/N let it slide no matter how much she hated sleeping in her childhood bed all by herself with a mini-gymnast in her stomach.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked her softly.

She nodded, looking in the mirror at herself one last time. “Can I have a minute?”

“Sure,” JJ smiled, taking Debbie with her as they walked out of her room.

She stood in the window, opening the blinds and looking out towards the swings once again. Spencer was sitting there, swinging while staring at her window.

She smiled, feeling the butterflies leave her system in a beautiful flurry as their eyes locked. She was ready, she had always been ready to marry him.

She walked out of the room and down the stairs, holding the railing carefully. She was just wearing a pair of crocs under her dress, not trusting her big clumsy ass with heels.

She waited in the foyer as Emily walked across the street to gather everyone. She was officiating for them, Spencer wanted her to be the one to marry them, she was the closest thing to a sister he had.

Every single important person in their lives was in the crowd. Even Spencers father was there, in the back, quiet. Diana was happy to see him, Spencer felt indifferent. Gideon came too, which made it a little easier.

They all walked across the street then, gathering at the end of the makeshift aisle they laid out in the park. Penelope played a simple wedding march, starting the ceremony officially.

Everyone stood, turning towards them. Chloe went down first, dropping flower petals in big clumps here and there before running towards her mom. Then it was Y/N’s turn, opting out of the whole bridesmaid’s thing for the sake of not having to pick and choose between her co-workers and sisters-in-law.

Her dad extended an arm for her, she took it as she softly smiled at him. He looked like he was trying not to cry, “ready?”

“Let’s go,” she whispered.

Seeing Spencer at the end of the aisle was like a dream. She began to walk towards him, every step closer made her heartbeat louder and louder in her chest. Before she knew it she was standing in front of him, her dad giving her a soft kiss on the cheek before handing her over to Spencer.

The idea of giving her away was weird. He wasn’t giving her to him, he was simply helping her reach him. And he always had been.

Spencer’s hand was soft in hers and they stepped towards Emily together.

The music stopped then, causing them to turn to each other and smile. It was time.

It felt more like time stopped, however, getting a sort of tunnel vision for each other as the rest of the world faded away.

“Welcome everyone, you can take a seat,” Emily cut into the moment. “A few weeks ago Spencer asked me if I’d marry him off to his best friend, I of course said yes because who can say no to that face?”

Everyone laughed as Spencer blushed. “Spencer is the smartest man to work in the FBI, we’re not afraid to admit that. From the day I met him, he was nothing but informative and kind, as well as shy and personal. It took a while to learn anything about him, but once you get to know him he’s like an open book. And it’s a good story.”

“Like most good fairy tales, it’s a story told in two parts. Starting with a meet-cute of cosmic proportions, a plotline that would make any other ’right for each other at the wrong time,’ story run for the hills,” Emily exaggerated.

“And finally, a reunion,” her voice was soft then. “I’ll never forget the day Spencer held the door open for Y/N, she walked in with a smile on her face that was almost as big as Spencers. He introduced us to a childhood friend that day, not realizing she would become part of our family.”

Y/N felt herself getting a little choked up, seeing Penelope and JJ wiping their tears just off to the side.

“It’s a story best told in the first person,” Emily laughed at her own joke. “So, without further ado, ladies first,” she instructed, stepping away from the altar to keep the focus on them.

“Well?” Y/N shook her head at him, motioning with her hand for him to start speaking. Making everyone laugh once again. Spencer’s smile was adorable as he giggled.

“Would you say— hypothetically, of course, that soulmates are real, Doctor Reid?” She questioned him softly.

He nodded, “I would.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Because I think you’re mine. And I think I’ve known that for a very long time. There was something about you, that first day I saw you. You weren’t shoving dirt up your nose or pulling on my hair. You were reading a book, I believe it was Matilda, you were all by yourself and you looked sad.”

“Me, being me,” she laughed to herself, “I marched over to you and I asked if you wanted to play in the sandbox with me. One small gesture changed the entire course of my life, you became a friend and then a stranger again in the blink of an eye. I know what it’s like to know of you and not be in your presence and it’s the worst.”

She didn’t want to cry, but she knew she was about to. “I know you’re my soulmate because my soul physically aches when you’re not around. Like magnets, I’m pulled towards you and I’m willing to crush anything that gets in the way. You and I were once the same cosmic rock just floating through space, separated for millions of years until the time was right.”

“I found you right when I needed you,” she wiped a tear off her cheek quickly. “When we needed each other. And I’m never going to let you go.”

She turned towards Emily, grabbing a ring from her. “With this ring, you’re tied to me for eternity now, the way things always should have been.”

“I love you,” Spencer whispered, wiping his own tears before holding her hands again.

“Your turn, pretty boy,” she teased him one last time, laughing to try and stop the tears.

“Most of you know the story,” Spencer began his speech. Staring into Y/N’s eyes, trying to forget there was an audience.

“We met in kindergarten, she was wearing a sundress with green and pink flowers, much like today. You had bangs back then and a cute pink bow in your hair. And you were as stubborn then as you are now,” he smiled. “Mrs. Richardson had told me twice that we weren’t allowed to put water in the sandbox, no matter how important it was to the construction of my model pyramids. That’s why I was reading my book. You went to your backpack, grabbed a water bottle, and poured it right into the sand without thinking twice about the consequences.

“I didn’t really see you again until I was 13, I sat on that swing with my copy of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens while you sat in your window way up there.” He pointed at her house, past the swing set. “I’ll never know what you were reading or what you were thinking, but I have the exact moment I saw you ingrained in my memory,” Spencer’s words were soft as his thumbs ran over her hands.

“Out of my thoughts! You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since – on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets.” Spencer recited from memory.

“You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to displace with your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be. Y/N, to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But, in this separation I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp distress I may. O God bless you,” Spencer’s voice trailed off to a whisper as he reached the end.

“I read that quote moments before seeing you again, and part of me knew the universe had greater plans for us. And I knew, Love her, love her, love her! If she favours you, love her. If she wounds you, love her. If she tears your heart to pieces – and as it gets older and stronger, it will tear deeper – love her, love her, love her!”

“With this ring,” Spencer finally added. Lifting the last ring from Derek’s extended hand, placing it on Y/N’s ring finger where it belonged. “I vow to love you till my very last moments, and if heaven is real I’ll be waiting for your loving embrace.”

She wiped her tears quickly, looking up as she tried to stop her mascara from smudging. “You’re a dick sometimes,” she started to laugh before hearing the crowd do the same.

“You love me,” he teased her.

“I do,” she smiled, pulling him in and kissing him hard on the lips. Getting lost in his embrace as the world around them stopped.

—

Having every single person that she loved mingle around her parent’s backyard felt a little surreal. Her father and Rossi were smoking cigars together on the desk, Levi and Will were discussing training stories while Chloe and Henry chased each other around the yard.

Emily and Noelle were slowly dancing in their own little world to the music that played, not too far from Haley and Arron who had the same idea. Jack was talking to Derek, sharing stories about their favourite superhero.

Diana and Debbie were going around making sure everyone had a drink or a snack, discussing their children and showing off to everyone that was there. It was a lot to take in, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. This was the most perfect little wedding she could have ever asked for.

Spencer never left her side, holding her hand where ever she went for the majority of the night. Knowing she hated being the centre of anyone else attention, calming her down from all the eyes that were on her.

“Do you want to go to the swing?” He whispered in her ear when they were finally alone.

“Please,” she looked up at him with pleading eyes. Wanting to just be alone with him for a while.

She snuck out of the yard and across the street, Y/N sat down on the swing for the first time in years, her big belly thanking her for the relief. Spencer pushed her lightly on the swing, helping her swing in the late-night spring breeze in rural Nevada.

The light in her bedroom was still on, illuminating the empty room she called hers for the majority of her life. Still unable to process the fact that she did it, she married Spencer. She made a life in his orbit, she was happy and loved and making a family with the man of her dreams.

This was the best revenge she could have ever gotten on any childhood bully or predator in her life. Pure happiness, that no one could take from her. Knowing she did this on her own, meeting Spencer out of the blue and building a life of joy and peace was so unbelievably wonderful.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” Spencer asked softly as he continued to push her on the swing.

“I’m just amazed that I did it,” she said softly.

“Did what?”

“all this,” she waved her arm out in front of her. “I grew up, I made friends and a family and found the love of my life even after believing for so long that I never would.”

“the universe had better plans for you than you thought,” She could hear the smile on Spencer’s face as he spoke. “You’re so deserving of the world and then some, you’re worth the universe to me. Brighter than any star in the sky, more powerful than the big-bang.”

She dragged her feet along the sand, stopping the swing abruptly before turning around to see Spencer. His eyes glistened in the moonlight or the streetlight. Either way, his brown eyes were glowing as she looked up at him softly.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

She wrapped her arms around him as best as she could, pressing her cheek against his chest softly. “For showing me that love is real.”

“Being able to love you has been the best part of my life.”

She pulled him into another kiss, holding his face softly as she peppered kisses to his lips over and over. “You get me forever.”

“And then some.”

“Hypothetically,” she teased him lightly. “Anything is possible when the two of us get together.”

“I love you,” was all he could say before kissing her again.

They could hear the music travelling across the street for the yard, she wrapped her arms around him and swayed to the beat. Taking a moment completely alone with him to just appreciate him. To hold him close, hear his heartbeat through his suit jacket and just take it all in.

The rest of her life started at that moment, the birth of a new future. One with endless possibilities, endless happiness, and the most love in the whole world.

Soulmates, 500 years in the making.

Placing 500 more years of possibilities in the hands of Fate, who cradled them in her loving embrace. Making a future for them unlike any she’s made before.

Epilogue

2020

The birds chirping used to make her wake up with a smile, now it made her panic a little. She was so overly used to being woken up to a baby crying, a kid with a tummy ache, or the sound of fighting coming from the cribs in the twin’s room.

When it was quiet she worried, opening her eyes and looking around to see all 4 of her children cuddled up around her and Spencer. Completely asleep, and absolutely adorable.

Matthews’s face was beside hers on the pillow. His long hair falling over his face, just like his fathers used to all those years ago. She kissed her baby on the forehead, unable to fully understand that he was 10 now.

The twins were in the middle, Harper and Derek were attached at the hip all day long. Sleeping basically on top of each other, it was the only way they were peaceful. Since being squished together in the womb, they’ve become best friends and each other’s comfort person over the last 6 years.

Alice on the other hand was a daddy’s girl. Probably because she got the most time with him, 2 and a half years’ worth of all Spencer’s love and affection.

Spencer had quit the BAU when they got pregnant with their last baby, deciding he wanted to be with his kids full time. He wanted to be more present, to make more memories and just be a good dad.

Every morning Alice would find her way into the bed, she’d do whatever it took to get between Y/N and Spencer, cuddling into her father’s arms and going back to sleep. Almost every time, she would push her mom’s arms away, waking Y/N up in the process just to smirk at her as if to say; “haha my turn.”

She loved her little family. And they loved her too, she had been out of town for a week on a really bad case that required all hands on deck. They called her every day, begging her to come home soon, breaking her heart. So it wasn’t a surprise to see all of them snuggled in, taking in all the time with her that they could.

Matthews’s eyes fluttered as he woke up, his big beautiful brown eyes looking at her softly. “Mom,” he said softly with a smile before wrapping his arms around her neck and snuggling into her. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, Mr. Magoo,” she whispered into his hair, holding him close. He still smelled like her little baby, only bigger as he rested against her.

“Are we still going to Uncle Dave’s tonight?” He asked as he settled against her, wanting her to run her fingers through his hair. It calmed him as it did for Spencer, soothing his mind as it ran a million miles a minute.

“I think so,” she replied, picking him up softly and laying on her back more. “I think all your cousins are going to be there too.”

“Even Jack?” He asked, sitting up with wonder in his eyes. Jack was 15 now, and just the coolest dude in Matthews’s life. Much like how Spencer looked up to Hotch in the beginning.

“Even Jack!” She whispered with enthusiasm, trying to keep the others asleep but it was too late.

“Mommy!” Harper cried, pushing Derek away from her as she leaped into her mother’s arms.

“Hi sweetheart,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as she got smothered in hugs from the twins.

Spencer looked over at her then. Alice was snuggled into his neck, one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hair. She had always played with his hair every chance she could get. Especially whenever he held her or gave her a ride on his shoulders as they walked through the park.

“Hi,” Spencer smiled.

There he was, the love of her life. His smile made her feel at home, the love between them only growing every morning when they laid eyes on each other.

“Are you going to say hi to mommy?” Spencer asked Alice, rubbing her back softly.

She raised her hand to wave softly before dropping it back onto Spencer’s head with a smack, “ow?” He laughed lightly, making her bounce on his chest and laugh in response.

She was always quiet in the morning, leaving all the talking to her siblings. She was the calmest of them all, she was also the easiest of the 4 of them. She didn’t cry unless she was desperate for food or attention, she slept through the nights and was just all around not fussy at all. A literal blessing to their lives.

The twins were a lot, they knew they would be. She doesn’t miss the days and nights of them taking turns screaming. And she definitely doesn’t miss the ache of her body as two babies sucked her dry for almost 6 months. Breastfeeding kicked her ass the most, eventually making her lose too much weight and faint from low blood pressure, it sucked.

The outcome was beyond worth it. Derek and Harper were the craziest, funniest, loudest 6-year-olds in the whole world. If they weren’t writing a show, pretending to direct a spooky movie or pulling pranks on their father, they were planning to.

They had a specific dynamic, Harper was the planner and Derek was the do-er. Harper would come up with the sneakiest, worst ideas a child could have and somehow always managed to convince Derek to do it for her. A modern-day Jekyll and Hyde terrorized her home.

But Matthew, He was the sweetest. Being a single child till the age of 4 meant he was around Spencer and Y/N all the time, just the three of them. He’s shy but outgoing, he speaks his mind and he isn’t afraid to share his thoughts and feelings. He’s the best part of both of them but with all the confidence to follow his dreams. He was handsome and smart, he was sweet and kind, he was her baby. Forever and always, no matter how big he got.

He’s smart like Spencer, but not jumping through elementary school as fast. They agreed to let him decide when he turned 14. He deserved the chance to grow up with his own age group, to make friends and memories that were good and happy, to build the confidence to stand up for himself and others before he finished school. He didn’t mind it, he enjoyed helping other students when he finished his work early and asking for extra credit assignments.

And he liked being in class with Roz LaMontagne. They were smitten with each other from day one, always holding hands and playing nicely. JJ and Y/N always felt bad peeling them apart from each other at the end of a playdate, they were best friends.

It was like Roz had 2 older brothers with Henry and Matt, the 3 of them being so close in age they were often mistaken for triplets, with JJ and Y/N being their lesbian moms. It was a ruse that came in handy when they saw men checking them out, or when they wanted a family discount at the zoo.

Her life felt perfect, it was far from it in reality but she was happy with that. She worked long hours, her kids missed her every day, she didn’t see Spencer as often as she’d like and she was always tired. But that was what it took, she would work herself to the bone in an instant if it meant that she could come home and be snuggled like this every time.

“How was your week?” She asked Harper, brushing her strawberry blond hair behind her ear as she cuddled into her other side. Now having 3 children laying on top of her.

“Dad took us to the air and space museum,” Derek answered for her.

“No way!” Y/N enthused. “You need to tell me everything you learned!”

“The Museum is the largest of the Smithsonian's 19 museums and its Center for Earth and Planetary studies is one of the Institution's nine research centres. More than eight million people a year visit the Museum's two locations, making it one of the most visited museums in the country,” Matthew explained, remembering the sign at the entrance from memory.

“Wow, what was everyone’s favourite part? Maybe we can go again soon and you can all show me?” She suggested, riling them all up till they were bouncing on the mattress and screaming suggestions back and forth.

“Okay, okay,” Y/N settled them down. Watching them all sit-down and smile as they tried to stop laugh and listen. “Why don’t we go get breakfast and spend the morning together before we get ready to go to Aunt Penny’s party tonight okay?”

“I thought it was Uncle Dave's party?” Derek asked.

“It’s at his house but you know how aunt penny plans,” Y/N smiled at him. “How about you all go get dressed and pick something nice to wear while I talk to your dad for a bit?”

“Anything I want to wear?” Harper questioned her, very serious.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head, “something nice, but yes your choice.”

“Yes!” Harper screamed, hopping off the bed making the whole room shake as she ran down the hall. The sound of her bare feet slapping the hardwood carrying through the hallway in an echo.

“Matty, I’ll dress Alice, can you just watch her for a minute?” Spencer asked as he placed Alice in the middle of the bed.

“Sure,” Matthew smiled. “Come on Ali, I’ll read you a book?”

She put her arms out for her brother to carry her, and soon enough it was just Spencer and Y/N all alone again. Spencer and her both falling back against the pillows and sighing in the quiet.

Spencer pulled her into a hug, wrapping himself around her as he kissed her cheek, “I missed you so much, I hate when you’re gone.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” she said softly. “I got a job offer last night, and I think I’m going to take it.”

“What is it?”

“VICAP and the BAU are merging, even more, I’ve been asked to be the Chief of VICAP to personally overview the program and pass the information along to Prentiss,” She explained. “It would be a 9-5 thing, 5 days a week. I’d be home for dinner and all weekend long. We could have another baby or go on vacation? You know the possibilities are endless.”

Spencer kissed her again, “you’d be able to help people and be home all the time.”

“Exactly,” she smiled into his embrace. “I told them I’d let them know later today, they want me to start next month.”

“Follow your gut,” Spencer whispered, happy at the decision she was making either way.

“My gut is currently saying ‘feeeeed meeee’, so let’s get going!” She cheered as she tried to escape from his embrace.

He just held on tighter, tickling her stomach and kissing her neck, “help!” She cried, joking obviously and the kids knew that. Sure enough, 4 pairs of feet came running back into their room, dog piling them.

“I said help! Not suffocate me?!” She teased them as Spencer let her go, each taking a child and tickling them instead. Everyone was screaming again, giggling from deep in their stomach, feeling sick from how happy they were.

She loved every moment of it.

—

After 10 years, the BAU had gone through a lot of changes. Everyone seemed to come and go at least once, some leaving for good when their families started. But there were a lot of new faces now, once someone was on the team they were family.

It was a rare occasion for everyone to get together, especially now that almost everyone had kids. Spencer and Y/N went from being the 2nd set of parents to aunty and uncle to 8 kids in 10 years.

That meant that there were currently 12 screaming kids terrorizing Rossi’s beautiful backyard as the adults sat around the fire. “Please tell me no one here has a baby announcement to make, I don’t think I can handle a thirteenth,” Rossi complained, grey hair making him look more like papa Rossi than uncle Dave now.

“No,” everyone said in unison, laughing at the abundantly clear meaning. They were all too tired to do it all again.

“Like Spencer’s mom said, why have another when you can stop at perfection?” Emily joked as she leaned into Noelle’s embrace. “PJ is the best little guy in the world.”

“Spencer makes some great kids,” Y/N laughed. Remembering that time Emily nervously asked them if Spencer would be the donor for her child. Wanting her kid to be born with the best DNA she could think of.

“That he does,” Noelle smiled, looking into the yard to see PJ, Michael and Hank roughhousing like they always were.

They all had kids fairly close together, always making sure each new member of the BAU's gifted children program had friends who were more like family in their lives. Their small chosen family expanded not only in size but with the amount of love they shared for each other.

Henry was 12 now, Jack 15. They had always gotten along well together, being a little more on the nerdy side. They welcomed Matthew into their little group with open arms, as well as Roz.

Hotch ended up becoming Section Chief, taking a desk job so that he could spend more time with his family. They welcomed Jessie 6 years ago, right around the time Y/N had the twins. She was a spitting image of Haley with all the stern seriousness of Hotch. Seeing her and Harper try and work together was always funny. Harper and Derek were always trying to start shit somewhere, while Jessie ran to Y/N to tattle on them. It was the funniest dynamic out of all the age groups, and it was only going to get worse as they grew up.

“I don’t know,” Y/N sighed, looking at her kids as they all smiled and laughed. The joy they brought her was unimaginable, “I think 5 would be interesting.”

“You’re a psycho, and I should know, I’m an expert,” JJ just shook her head, blinking at the craziness. “I can barely handle 3.”

“Alice was so easy though,” she whined. “All of them were good, I miss having a baby who wanted to cuddle with me. It’s not fair Spencer gets all the attention now.”

“You could always quit, they’d love that,” he teased her softly, not wanting to wake Alice as she slept on him, tired from playing with everyone during the afternoon.

“My new position is going to be better for us,” she smirked.

“What position?” Penelope yelled at her.

“I’m going to be the VICAP unit chief,” she smiled, watching them all light up as they congratulated her. Starling the sleeping Alice on Spencer’s chest.

“I think I’ve done enough fieldwork, I’d like to cook more dinners and read more bedtime stories now,” she smiled. “I never thought I’d say that.”

“I don’t think any of us did,” Haley added. “I never expected Aaron to slow down, but when he did I think it was the best thing he chose to do. Jack and Jessie love having him around all the time.”

“To 10 plus years on the job, 10 years of friendship and the 12 new lives we brought into this world,” Y/N said as she lifted her can of ginger-ale, everyone following with their own drinks.

“To family,” Prentiss added.

“To family,” they all repeated.

Taking a sip before smiling at each other, everything ended up okay. It was more than they ever expected, and everything they hoped for.

—

The kids all fell asleep on the ride home. Spencer and Y/N each taking one of the twins upstairs first, placing them in their beds softly before returning to the garage for the others. Finding Matthew trying to carefully bring Alice inside to help his parents.

“Hey Matty it’s okay,” Spencer whispered, placing a hand on his back. “you go inside with your mom and I’ll take care of this.”

“Okay,” he replied, extremely tired as his eyelids drooped.

Y/N wrapped her arm around his shoulders, he was almost as tall as her already and she wasn’t ready for that. “Come on my baby,” she whispered as she led him into the house and up the stairs.

She helped him change into a pair of pyjamas before helping him into his bed, covering him in his adorable planet-covered sheets. She tucked him in nice a snug before sitting on the edge, looking down at him as he closed his eyes and settled in.

She brushed his brown curls off his face, making way for the kiss she was about to leave on his forehead. “Goodnight my Matty Magoo, I love you to the moon and back.”

“I love you to the edge of the milky way,” he replied with a small smile. “I’m excited for you to be home more. Dad worries about you and it makes him sad, I like seeing you both happy together.” He rambled all his thoughts out at night just like Spencer did.

She kissed his head softly, holding his cheeks in her hand as she looked into his beautiful brown eyes. “You are so sweet, have a good sleep and I will see you tomorrow. I love you.” She told him again, and she’d tell him a million more times if she could.

“I love you, too, mom,” he smiled one last time before closing his eyes.

She shut off his lamp, closing his door on the way out.

She stood in the hallway then, a hand on her heart as she thought about just how much she loved him. JJ wasn’t kidding when she said you grow a love so big you’d kill for them.

Back in the twin’s room, she made sure they were comfortable for the night, taking Harper out of the crazy dress and pants she picked out for the day. Tucking both of them into their little beds, kissing their heads before turning on their nightlight. They didn’t like the dark, and they liked to keep their door open a little so buddy could sneak in.

In her own room, she found Spencer in bed, shirtless with a book. He got sexier as he got older, it was impossible and yet it happened. Every year he looked different, in a wonderful way.

His hair was fluffy, his tummy was fuller— a dad bod as Penelope would call it. He wore glasses all the time now, having a hard time reading without them. It made him incredibly hot.

She changed into a cute pyjama set, satin shorts and a spaghetti strap top, wanting to get his attention away from whatever book he found this time.

She could feel his eyes on her as she changed, not wanting to look at him and make him stop.

He put his book down when she got in beside him, still on the right side after all these years. “What?” She asked him as he kept staring at her.

“Were you serious?”

“Yes I do think you’re sexy, I didn’t think you could read minds too?” She teased him.

“Funny,” he smiled at her. “Do you want another baby?”

She shrugged, “we could Russian roulette this and just see if it happens?”

“Seriously?” His voice dropped, softer than normal. “Because I would have 16 more kids with you if you wanted. They’re all so amazing, every time.”

“I know,” she felt her heart melt. “Matthew said you get sad when I’m not here, he worries for you.”

“All week, Harper wore her regular outfits because she likes making you laugh with her silly ones,” Spencer told her. They liked to share secrets about their kids at night. Basically profiling them.

“I love them,” her heart felt like it was going to burst.

“Come here,” Spencer requested, waiting for her to sit on his hips and look down into his eyes like she always did. She brushed the hair off his face, holding his cheeks in her hands.

His eyes are so much like Matthews, but it was Alice who looked the most like him. She had his nose, his chin, she was tall and skinny and just the most adorable copy of him. Every feature on him was in one of their kids, he saw the same thing in her.

“Are you sure?” She asked him softly.

“The only thing in the whole world that I know for certain is that I love you and this family. Even gravity is simply a hypothetical, but you and me… I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” his words soft and his expression softer.

She kissed him, pressing her lips against his for the first time in a while. It always felt like coming home, this was where she was meant to be.

When she pulled back all she wanted to do was look at him for a minute, to imagine what new little face the two of them could make together. All 4 of their children were so perfect, she couldn’t imagine a 5th possibility.

“Put a baby in me,” She whispered.

She didn’t have to tell him twice, he reached over to the night table to turn off the light before kissing her neck softly. His big, warm hands wrapped around her back, pulling her in closer to him.

He was so much different now from the first time they did this. Confident, stronger, older, but he was still her soft boy. He held her with care, kissed her like she was made out of glass. The contrast of his actions and the feeling of his rough hands on her body made her feel like she was on fire.

He pushed the straps of her shirt off her shoulders, dipping her back a little so he could kiss her cheek. He pushed her shirt down, freeing one of her breasts, holding it softly in his hands before kissing the newly exposed skin.

His tongue swiped across her nipple, making her gasp and grip his arm as she rutted into the feeling. He cradled her head in his hands, laying her back with her head now at the foot of the bed.

Still, between her legs, he pulled the satin shorts down slowly to see she never wore any underwear under them. He smirked, running his finger softly over her vagina, watching in awe as she spread her legs wider for him.

She could see how hard he was, his erection making a tent in his boxers as he teased her softly. “Still so perfect,” he praised her. “Look how tight you are, sucking my finger inside that tight heat.”

She tightened around him on purpose then, feeling his finger slip in even more. “Fuck,” he gasped. Moving down more to place a kiss on her clit.

Her breathing picked up then, even after 11 years of sex with this man, the thought of his tongue on her still made her shiver. He was just that good, always getting better every time he dove face-first into her.

Her back arched the second his tongue connected with her clit. Pushing herself into his tongue more and more as he explored her. Two fingers were inside of her now, Spencer’s mouth kissing and sucking and licking every single inch of her pussy as she quietly gasped into the darkness.

She wanted to scream for more, she always did, but she couldn’t anymore. There were 4 sets of ears just down the hall trying to have a peaceful night’s sleep, she had to remind herself of that every time.

“Fuck, Spencer,” she whispered, biting her lip so nothing else slipped out.

“What?” He whispered against her skin, kissing her groin and lower tummy.

“Please,” she begged softly, sitting up and climbing onto his lap once more. “Daddy?”

It had been years since she said that to him, not able to utter the words once he actually became a father. It lit a fire in him, pulling her in closer before he ripped the shirt off her body.

He held her against him, kissing her neck as he basically growled at the feeling. Becoming almost feral with the thought of fucking her. She was in love with the feeling, when he got rough with her it was the best.

She enjoyed every second of it, knowing she’d wake up in the morning with beard burn on her neck and between her thighs, not giving a single fuck. It was so worth it, the tickle of his facial hair on her skin beside his mouth, she craved it.

“I need you out of those boxers, sir,” she panted, holding his hair as he continued to kiss her neck.

He pulled off her, looking at her in the darkness with lust-filled eyes. “Lay back,” he instructed her.

She always listened, laying back against the pillows as he freed himself from the confines of his underwear. Crawling on top of her and hovering slightly as he looked down at her. He brushed her hair off her face, kissing her lips lightly before smiling.

“Tell me again what you want?”

She smirked, “I want you to put a baby in me, fill me up. Let me make you a daddy again?”

The noise that left his throat was enough to make her clit twitch again, it was deep and guttural and beyond sexy. He became an animal on nights like this.

She spread her legs again, wrapping her knees around him as he pulled him in against her body. “Fuck me, Spencer.”

He lined himself up with her quickly, dragging the head of his cock through her folds a few times before he began to push in. Little by little, achingly slow. Teasing her, knowing just how badly she wanted him to pound into her.

“Yes,” she sighed as he bottomed out, dropping her head back against the pillow softly.

Her hands roamed his back, waiting for him to start to move again. Digging her nails in when he finally did, pulling out slowly before pushing back in with effort.

“Ah,” she moaned softly, covering her own mouth as he started to move faster.

“Shhh,” he reminded her, kissing her neck again as he found his rhythm.

“Shut up and fuck me then,” she sounded desperate. “Please,” she added. Not wanting him to stop out of spite.

“Shut up and take it,” he ordered, placing his own hand over her mouth as he fucked her harder.

She couldn’t believe it, he was holding one hand over her mouth while his other reached for her clit, making her jolt forward at the contact. It was everything she wanted, it was rough and powerful and just the best reminder that she belonged to him.

Spencer was hers, she was his, they created this entire world together. She felt so overwhelmed, she wasn’t aware that she was crying at the pleasure till Spencer moved his hand off her mouth to wipe off a tear.

“Keep going,” she encouraged him. “Please, please.”

“Shhh,” he soothed her, “I’m going to make you feel so good bunny, you’re going to be so full, so beautiful carrying another one of our babies.”

That did it for her, she tilted her head back as she arched her back. Pulling Spencer’s fingers into her mouth so that she wouldn’t moan too loud as she came on his cock.

Spencer shuttered at the feeling, fucking into her with vigour as he tried to hold in his own moans. Sounding more like a whimper when he finally came, spilling into her with the force of a Mack truck.

He dropped against her body then, breathing deep into her neck. She wrapped her legs around him tightly, holding him inside of her so nothing slipped out. “Fuck.”

“I love you,” Spencer breathed against her skin.

She ran her fingers through his hair softly before kissing his forehead. “I love you more.”

They stayed like that for a while, only pulling apart finally to get cleaned up. Spencer turned back on the light, helping her to the bathroom quietly before stripping the sheets off the bed.

She returned to a freshly made bed and a dressed Spencer waiting for her. She put her shorts and a t-shirt back on, slipping into bed and cuddling into him once more. Having to look presentable for when the kids eventually came running into their room at 7 am.

She sighed into his embrace, smiling softly against his skin. “What was that Buddha quote you told me all those years ago?”

“When you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer replied softly.

“Goodnight, Spence,” she kissed his jaw softly as she snuggled in closer.

“Goodnight, bunny.”

the end

[cannibalrotmeat]

Warning for some swearing/cursing!!

The sims is one of the few video games i can literally play for over 24 hours straight without getting bored. I currently have a family of 6 who i am developing lore for. The parents, Frankie Whitlock-Church and Dan Whitlock-Church, are both vampires (vampire-ish creatures at least) and also aro/ace, they are queer platonic partners and got married for tax purposes. they also had an old cat named Dollie. Eventually they said “Okay screw it we want children.” And adopted two kids (middle school age), Luis and Cam. Cam is AFAB and uses he/they pronouns, Luis is AMAB and uses he/they pronouns. Dan is AFAB but uses he/him pronouns, Frankie is AMAB and uses all pronouns. So they’re raising their kids, Dollie dies but gets revived as a sort of stitched-together-blind-as-fuck cat who is now immortal (she’s fixed tho, don’t worry). Their kids are nearing the end of middle school, they find a literal baby just crawling about in the woods without parents and decide to adopt him too, they name him Matty. No they do not legally adopt him, they just sorta pick him up and say “Okay, he’s ours now.” Because they’re like 1000 years old and don’t really care for laws and shit like that at this point. Cam and Luis have befriended their neighbor Gianna who is around the same age as them and lives with her grandma, Luis befriends a girl from school who is named Olivia, but Olivia’s grandfather is also Dan’s coworker who doesn’t get along that well with him so there will probably be something going on there, I like to think her grandpa is like “Oh he’s the son of that Dan guy, ugh, couldn’t she have had literally anyone else as her friend?” (Dan is a comedian btw, just starting out though, and Frankie is a stylist who has reached the top ranks of their field.) Olivia lives with both her parents, her grandpa on her mom’s side, and her grandma on her dad’s side, as well as her two toddler brothers. Now Luis and Cam’s adoption anniversary is in 2 days (shown as their birthday but i don’t want them having the same birthday in the lore) and idk wtf i’m gonna do about Matty’s birthdays. Cam’s full name is Cam Salmon Whitlock-Church, his middle name is Salmon, Luis likes to make fun of him for it. Luis and Cam are extremely close, Luis and Gianna are the only ones who know that Cam uses he/they pronouns. If i were to timeskip all the lore and stuff to when Cam and Luis are adults, Cam would change their name to Felix (but keep their middle name bc even though they act like they hate it, its sort of like a little inside joke) and shave their head, they’re the type to go “‘I ain’t wanna brush this shit.‘ *grabs razor*” and shave their own head Impulsively, but now they just keep it that way. Luis would probably cut his hair a bit shorter just so it’s easier to manage. Currently Luis is like, top grades in the school and then add mire extra credit on top of that, while Cam is just absolutely crashing and burning as they just absolutely cannot do the work due to ADHD reasons (laughs in projecting). However, Cam does show high creativity and art skills. Matty is still a tiny baby that can only eat, sleep, cry, and poop. I may update every now and then on what they’re up to, both game wise and lore wise.

[dubersbutt]

Okay but what about super rough sex with Matty because you hate each other and it’s really rough and super hot

Okay the hate sex is more subtext than explicitly stated

Also: This is very self-indulgent and is full of fem dom/pegging

The knock comes an hour before you expect it to. You can’t help the smirk on your face when you open the door.

“Someone’s thirsty,” you say when you open the door and lean against the doorframe. 

“Shut up,” Matthew grunts as he walks past you into your apartment.

“If you’re not going to be nice to me, you can just leave,” you tease. Matthew rolls his eyes as he takes off his jacket, “Go to my room. You know how I want you.”

He walks off wordlessly. You start cleaning up your dishes, taking your time. You make sure each dish is spotless and bone-dry before putting them away, letting Matthew stew in your room. You check on your cat’s food and give her love before finally going to your room.

Matthew’s lying on your bed, naked as the day he was born, scrolling through his phone. He jolts in surprise when you close the door.

“You comfy in my bed?” you ask, eyebrow raised as you climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist. He doesn’t answer so you roll your eyes, “I’m not gonna fuck you if you don’t talk to me. You have to tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me,” he mumbles.

“You want me to ride your dick and spell my name?” you laugh at your own joke. “No, I want you to fuck me,” he says. 

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows in surprise. You’ve used the strap on Matthew before but never before a game.

“Are you sure?” you ask, sliding your hands down his body. 

"Please,” he moans, voice low and throaty.

“How am I supposed to say no to that?” you tease as you slide your hand in between and lightly.

You reach over to get the lube and settle yourself in between Matthew’s legs. His legs fall open and you’re taken by a surprise.

“You’re such a slut,” you laugh as gently tug on the plug that’s currently nestled between his legs. Matthew groans when you pull it out, “When did you even have the time to put this in?”

“Made a stop at the hotel from the rink,” he says breathing getting heavier as you slide one finger.

“You couldn’t even wait to get to my apartment?” you tease as the other two fingers slide in easily, “Already loose for me.” 

“Fuck me, please,” he begs, writhing against the beg as you press on his prostate.

“You’re so fucking impatient,” you tsk, “I have to go get my strap.” 

When you come back to the bed and Matthew is face-down, ass-up on the bed, a pillow resting underneath his hips.

“Oh my god you really are a slut,” you say as you run your hand over his ass, giving it a light smack.

He grunts into the pillow as you line up with his hole, “Fuck yourself back on me.”

You can see his hands tighten in the sheets as he moves back against you. You keep your hand on his ass. He pauses when he reaches the hilt, expecting you to do something but you smack his ass again.

“Did I tell you to stop?” 

He huffs as he continues to rock back on your strap. He lets out little moans as you thrust your hips forward to meet him. You lean forward, draping yourself over his back, stilling his movements. Your hand reaches between his legs, squeezing his dick.

“You’re my pretty little slut, aren’t you?” you groan in his ear, lightly running your hand over his dick. He moans at your words, head hanging low, “say it.”

“I’m your slut,” he whines, “I’m yours.” 

“Such a good boy,” you run your nails down his back causing a shiver to run down his spine.

You hold his hips as you pull all the way out, watching as his whole clenches on nothing. You tell him to flip over, smacking his ass again - he does lots of squats, someone has to appreciate it. You pull him into a bruising kiss when he does.

You thrust into him, pushing a moan out of him. One of Matthew’s hands is holding the headboard and his face falling into a perfect ‘o’. His other comes down to wrap around his dick, jacking off in time with your thrusts. You knock it away, replacing it with yours. His head falls back as he gets closer.

“You gonna cum, Matthew?” 

He nods, “Let me cum, please.”

“Yeah, baby, you’ve been so good for me,” you grunt as you you continue to rock into him.

He starts to pant faster, hips thrusting to meet yours as he gets closer. A tear rolls down his cheek. He cums with a groan, Matthew was never very loud when he bottomed, your name falling from his lips quietly.

You go to the bathroom to take care of your strap, leaving it on the counter. You get a wet washcloth before you return to Matt. When you finish cleaning him up he looks at you through his eyelashes.

“You haven’t gotten off yet.” 

“It’s fine,” you reply, “I’ll do it later.”

He rolls his eyes, “Shut your annoying ass up and sit on my face.”

[mjihkaaaa]

Transcript: “Randy Writes a Novel” by Randy Feltface

I have transcribed this hour-or-so-long comedy piece. if I put the transcript on tumblr, it might pop up in the search results of some poor sod wondering whether it’s a thing that exists. fAiR uSe DiScLaiMEr or something, I’m making no money off of this and am posting it out of the goodwill of my heart, and also I sat down for two hours to make the transcript so it’s probably work. /original date of transcription, not that it makes a difference: 2019-07-16 /link: you can find the actual piece yourself or buy the dvd like a good consumer

||[Beard guy] Hey Randy? Yeah mate? ||[Beard guy] Ready to do this? (exhale) Yup! ||[Announcer] Please, without further ado... Welcome to the stage... The purple one... Randy! (Applause) YEEES! HELLO! THANK YOU! LOOK AT YOU ALL, MMMH! This is so EXCITING! This is my favourite bit of the show, this bit; The expectation - You don't know what to expect, I don't know what to expect. I've got high hopes for you people. I think you're gonna be fantastic. Some of you may have never seen me before, there's probably a couple of you wondering what the fuck is going on right now - couple of people up the back probably regretting smoking that spliff before they came in... "... ... ... the fuck is that?" it's alright, just relax. Throughout the show I'm probably gonna walk from about here, over to here. Any further than that, it's gonna ruin the magic, alright? And, um, this is pretty much what it's gonna look like for the next fifty-fix-and-a-half minutes, so just adjust your eyeballs to this shit accordingly. Looks pretty good, we did my tech rehearsal today, and we set this lighting stand and was like that looks good, that's good, and Stu, my lighting guy back there, said "iS tHaT iT?" and I was like ehh... eh... no, Stu, we can turn on the lamp as well, like this ... (lamp turns on). Yes. So we did that just to justify Stu's certificate for... in fucking... theatre production. GIVE IT UP FOR STU! UP THE BACK! (Applause) Who's having an alcoholic beverage this evening? (wooing) Ah-WOOO! I don't drink anymore, I used to SLAM that SHIT into my FACE like a WEAPON but I quit ... and nothing really changed, you know, I didn't notice too many differences between being sober and being a drinker ... UNTIL ... the first time I got pulled over by a cop, and had to do a random breath test sober. Because my physcial and emi-seeonal reaction was exactly the same as it had always been when I was a drinker. Which was ... - "OOOOH fuck I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked" - "wind down your window please sir" - "IIIII'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked" - "one long breath into the bag sir" - "NAAAAAAAAAA I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm- (blow) I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked I'm fucked" - "... you're free to go mate" - !!! ... oh yeah, I am, and the sense euphoria I felt was the closest feeling I've had to being drunk since I quit drinking. To the point where I now drive around on friday and saturday nights, LOOKING for cops. And if I get pulled over, I pretend I'm drunk just to get an extra rush... AHHH! Seriously, if you ever get pulled over, and you're sober, pretend you're wasted. Oh, the BUZZ! It's like shelving nine pills at once, it's fucking sick. Seriously, the next time the cop's walking towards the car, just be like - - "ohh, shush everyone he's COMING! act normal he's comin- put it down! put it down, he's coming! shush he's comi-!! he's here!" - "... ... ... Wind down your window please, sir." - "yeah, I'ma do that, I'ma do that, I'M DOING IT! ... Ah, it's electric. The button's in the middle 'cuz it's electric." - "... ... ... Have you had anything to drink tonight, sir?" - "NOOO ossifer [officer] not on a tuesday" - "It's a friday-" - "NO friday either mate!" - "One long breath into the bag please, sir." - "yes I will, you fucking champion ... y'know, people say youse are cunts but I don't reckon youse are, PBRRTT (blow) - WOOO! hahaaa..." (Cop checks bag, shocked.) - "Uh... You're free to go." - "FUCK YEAH! BRRRRRRRRR MEEPMEEP" (Applause) I took it so far once, I got down to the station for a blood test - ahhahaAA, gets addictive when you get to that stage... I've got track marks, it's out of control! and laDIES AND GENTLEMEN - you're very close, aren't you. Hello! (Shriek) Um... The reason we're here is because, didididii, didididi-didii, I wrote a book! Yes! Woo! Yeah, you can clap, but I'm concerned that it might be a bit shit. I don't know. It's weird - this is it here - I'm not sure if it's any good 'cuz I think I'm too close to it, y'know, I can't tell anymore. I'm concerned that it might be, like, an ugly baby that I'm looking at through the eyes of a loving mother? And it's not until I take it out for a walk in its little pram and people start screaming in horror and crossing the street to avoid me that I'll realize I've made a piece of shit baby? There's nothing worse than a piece of shit baby, is there... - "Ah, who's this little guy- WAUGH YOUR BABY'S A PIECE OF SHIT!" - "God... damn it..." But do I need to be told it's good to know that it's good? You know, that's how it goes with comedy; If I come up here and tell a shit joke, you tell me it's shit by not laughing, and I stop telling that joke. But with a BOOK I won't know it's shit until it's out there. Forever. Until I DON'T sell a million copies. Just wake up one morning, surrounded by towering boxes of unsold books, featuring on an episode of mentally deranged hoarders... We need to lay off hoarders, by the way. I think there's one too many television programmes "exposing the horrors" of people that like collecting shit. It's their house, let them do it! - "No we have to fix them!" No you don't, people are fucked up! If they wanna climb over a stack of cat shit stained national geographic magazines from the nineteen seventies to get to the kettle, fucking let 'em. THEY LIKE IT. - "Yeah but it's a mental illness-" Yeah, well, may be, but I would argue it's MORE insane to film them doing it, and then package it like a tacky microwave meal for one, so assholes can sit at home going "LOOK HOW SHIT THAT PERSON IS! They've got too many of the same thing..." ... Who's more insane in that sce-nario, I ponder... ANYWAY my book... My book is called "Walking to Skye", it's about a young man who walks from the southernmost borders of Scotland up to the Isle of Skye in the far north, retracing the footsteps of his great-great-grandfather and having a massive existential crisis along the way. It's a reeeeeeeeeeal HUMDINGER, and now that I've written it I'm terrified to let anybody read it, so what I've decided to dewwww, is; I'm gonna read bits of the book out, you're going to react, and then at the end we'll all collectively decide whether or not I should kill myself. Okay? Okay. Here we go. Hm-hm-hm. Ready? Everybody comfortable? No-one needs to go to the toilet, or get a drink, or anything? No? If you do, seriously, just go for it, because fucking... (waves hand in front of eyes). I'm not.. going.. to notice... Ahem, okay, ahem... Here we go. Alright. Here we go, here we go, okay. Khm. Blblbl. Okay. Phew. Alright. Here we go. Walking to Skye, chapter one. ... Phew. Okay. Khm. Blbl. Okay. Khm. Phew... (Sigh)... (Shivering) Read it... Just fucking read it... Come on man... Just... Son of a bitch... Pth... EHGgghhh... I'm too scared. (Audience goes "aww") No, fuck off. It's weird being scared for this, y'know, it's strange to be scared of something so intangible as JUDGEMENT. You know, I care what you people think, but taste is so subjective. Y'know, one man's "To Kill a Mockingbird" is another man's "Twilight" saga. Hello there, what's your name? (Matthew:) "Matthew." Matthew! N- where- right about there, mattie (adjusting line of sight)? Tell me, Matthew, what do you fear, what's your greatest fear, what are you scared of mate, we're all friends here, open up, unpack some shit, what are you-.. What's your biggest fear, Mattie? (Matthew:) "It must be rejection." Rejection? Same as me. <close> what do you know about my fear of rejection? </close> How old are you, man? (Matthew:) "Twenty-six" Twenty-six! The twenties are the time for rejection, my friend, it is the best time for rejection. Have you been rejected a few times? (Matthew:) "Quite a lot." Fucking rack it up, Mattie, rack it up mate, you just get- you wear those scars like a fucking warrior, mate! And then you get to thirty-six, my age, and you could not give a fuck, my friend. I'm telling you mate, rack up the rejection while you can, and then just.. fucking.. grab whatever's left. That's what you've got to look forward to. Let's hear it for Matthew! Yes! (Applause!) Rejection, eh? I think, actually, Mattie, Mattaroonie, Matterectomy, I think for me, Mattanoonles, I'm actually more scared of ... failure, in this case. I fear that I might've written a shit book, and as a result I'll fail, y'know. But I believe, Mattress, I believe it was Ernest Hemingway who put it best when he said "The first draft of everything is shit". And I often thought of that while I was writing my book, it's a great thing for young readers and young writers, sorry, to keep in mind, because it kind of lets you off the hook, y'know. And it makes you feel not so bad when you churn out something akin to Fifty Shades of Grey fanfiction. - "Every nerve ending in my body tingled as he boldly placed his swollen member directly onto my left shoulder ... and whispered into my ear ... 'tickets please' ... suffice to say, that won't be the last time I catch the bus to Broad Meadows." Khm. True story, true story. Okay, I'm gonna read the book - Broad Meadows, good suburb, Broad Meadows, good name! (Audience member goes WOOO!) Hahahaha, WEEEEEW! Has Broad Meadows ever had that reaction anywhere ever? How good is Broad Meadows- WOOOOOO! WOO! Wooing is one of few things you can do in a crowd. You can't woo when you're on your own, can you... You can't just be walking down the street like WOO! - "What's wrong with that person?" But if there's a group of you going "woo!" it's like, - "Naw, they're having a nice time, aren't they..." Wooing in- when you're in an audience is one of the few times you can get away with wooing. You can't, fucking- don't woo at the butcher's, y'know? - "I'll just have a ... 2 pounds of some sausages and uh, some pound of mince, and let me- six pound fifty WOOOOO!" - "I no longer wish for you to purchase my meat products." What was I talking about? Ah, Broadie? Yeah, Broad Meadows, it's a good name, Broad Meadow, like it makes sense, there was an expanse of just fucking... no stuff, there was some broad meadows, and they went "let's fucking build it here" and it was an honest name. All these new subdivisions now, they're all fucking, just... - "What are we gonna call this deserted swamp?" - "Um... Spring Valley Mountview Niceface." Fuck that! Name them honestly, y'know? - "Where are you living now?" - "Shitty water feature." - "Ah!" - "Where are you?" - "Stabbyville." - "Ah! ... How's that?" - "Yeah, it's good, it's close to schools, which is great, but um... We do get stabbed a lot though, it's a... You know, we knew the risks..." - "'Cuz it was in the name?" - "'Cuz it was in the name! yeEEeeAh." I like an honestly named place. I was Broken Hill recently, that's an honestly named place. - "We had a hill, we fucking broke it. Welcome to Broken Hill." Actually, Broken Hill have gone one further, they've named all the streets in the centre of town after elements. 'Cuz it's a mining town, they went thematic with that shit. So you're walking down Chloride, and you hit the corner of Bromide, or Oxide, I love that! That makes sense to me! I live in Collingwood - it'd be much easier to direct people to my house if I could send them to the corner of Soy Latte and Hipster Fuckwit. That'd take out all the guesswork ... When you're heading to Frankston, don't forget to check out the beautiful parklands on the corner of Bucket Bong and Pregnant Teenager. They are just enchanting. Alright. Gonna read the book. Blblblbl. You cool Matt? Sick. I'm gonna keep talking to you so you feel included. Therefore, not rejected. Khm, okay. Alrighty. Okay. Here we go. Alright. Shut up, I'm gonna read it. Okay. Phew. Walking to Skye, chapter one . . . Fascinating man, Ernest Hemingway. I didn't know a lot about him, but I kept thinking of that quote, "the first draft of everything is shit", while I was writing my book, and I started to think, "who are you to tell me my first draft is shit, Hemingway? What did you ever do that was sO fUckIng gOOd?" So I realized I didn't know anything about him, so I decided to do some research on him, and it proved to be an excellent means of putting off writing my book. And now I can tell you everything I know about him as an excellent means of putting off reading you my book, so... Swings and roundabouts, my friends, swoongs and rimbledibbledoodledoodoos, as they say in Scotland ... They don't say that. No-one has ever said that. Anyway, what I suggest we do, okay, is I'm just gonna tell you a little bit about Ernest Hemingway, bit about Hemmers, and then we'll just let the segway into reading the book develop organically. Like a runaway fungus at the bottom of a misplaced coffee cup. - "Aw, guys, how long has this been behind the couch? ... There's little people in it!" - "Save us! Save us from our porcelain prison!" - "wwWAAH!" (tosses cup) KSSSH - "We're free!" - (Running noise, tktktktktktk) - (Randy steps on the little people with an audible crunch) It's just for me, that bit, it's just for me!.. Okay. Okay, here we go, ladies and gentlemen, for the very first time I would wager in all of your living memories, I now am proud to present to you, the life and times of Ernest Miller Hemingway in approximately three and a half minutes. Go! (Background shifts) Born in Chicago in eighteen ninety-nine, son of a physician and a musician, reasonably uneventful childhood, decided to study journalism. Enlisted with the Red Cross during World War One, got blown up in Milan and spent six months in hospital with severe shrapnel wounds in both legs, fell in love with a nurse, they decided to get married. He came home to prepare, she stayed there and ditched him for an Italian soldier, which initiated a life-long pattern of him rejecting women before they had a chance to reject him. Take note, Mattie. Got a job as a foreign correspondent, fell in love with his roommate's sister, married her and moved to Paris. They hung out with Gertrude Stein, they kicked it with Pablo Picasso, he started writing in earnest, moved to Toronto, had a kid, moved back to Paris, published a couple of books, cheated on his wife, got divorced, married the other woman, converted to catholicism ... ... ...  Cut his head open after pulling on a cord thinking he was flushing a toilet, and instead ripped a skylight from the roof and smashed it onto his face, moved to Kansas City, had another kid, his dad committed suicide, he shot a lot of bears for some reason, had a car accident, had another kid, went to Africa to kill some wild animals and got dysentery - Karma! -, published another book, moved to Cuba, shot himself in the leg whilst aiming at a shark! Cheated on his wife, got divorced, married the other woman, published "For Who the Bell Tolls", sold half a million copies in a couple of months and got nominated for a Pulitzer prize, cheated on his wife, got divorced, married the other woman, became the self-appointed leader of a band of village militia outside of Paris, and was subsequently brought up on charges for contravening the Geneva convention and got away with it like a FUCKING CHAMPION! Got pneumonia, moved back to Cuba, and spent most of his spare time on his boat, tracking nazi u-boats with a machine gun and a pile of hand grenades - I AM NOT MAKING THIS SHIT UP! Had a few more car accidents, three more concussions, got clawed while playing with a lion! ... Got depressed, drank, got fat, published a couple of more books, went back to Africa to shoot some more wild animals and barely survived two separate plane crashed in the space of twenty-four hours, winding up with a fractured skull, internal bleeding, cracked spine, ruptured liver, first degree burns, and a paralyzed sphincter muscle - Karma! -, won a Nobel prize, had a file opened on him by J. Edgar Hoover, left a bunch of shit in a safe in Cuba and moved to Idaho paranoid that the feds were following him, which they were, because he spent most of the nineteen fourties working for the KGB! AGAIN, NOT-MAKING-THIS-SHIT-UP! Suffered from hepatitis, nephritis, hypertension, hemochromatosis, anemia, and impotence - Karma! -, got committed, received way too much electroconvulsive therapy and came out all fucked up, started hinting at suicide so immediately got re-committed, received another couple of months worth of electroconvulsive therapy, got released, put both barrels of his favourite twelve gauge shotgun into his mouth, and BLEW HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF. WHAT A GUY!!! (Applause) Ah... That is all true! What a fucking unit! Hemingway is the quintessential anti-hero, the talented, charismatic, belligerent, suicidal, alcoholic genius that can't keep his dick in his trousers. And he still found time to write about fifteen books! I've written one, and it took me ages, because I procrastinate like a motherfucker! I only got this written by doing most of the work in my local public library, because it's very difficult to masturbate in the reference section without getting caught. It's... It's almost impossible, in fact ... Almost. I don't even enjoy masturbating anymore, I just do it to avoid other tasks. And if it's something I really don't wanna do, I can seriously just go back-to-back wanks, just AARGH, just 'till it's painful, like NAAAAAAAAH, like hurty cum, like MWOOOAAARGH, WOOOMMMHHH MHHHH MMHHMHMMM RMMMMMHHHHOOkay fine I'll do the fucking dishes. And you know the weird thing about books is that you only really need to write one to be considered to be a great writer. Until last year, "To Kill a Mockingbird" was the only book that Harper Lee ever published. One book in eighty-nine years. To be fair that one book did win the Pulitzer prize and sold over fourty million copies, so she didn't really need to do another one, did she... - "Hey Harper, you gonna write another book?" - "Nope! Did you read the first one? FUCKING NAILED IT! FUCKING NAILED IT! I'm just doing the one. Just doing the one." Imagine if I did that. Came up here, told one joke, and then stared at you for fifty-eight minutes. - "You gonna tell another joke?" - "Nope! Did you hear the first one? FUCKING NAILED IT! I'm just doing the one." There's not many jobs where you can just do the one, is there... Just... Writers, and... Suicide bombers. Hard to do two of those... Or maybe UFC fighters that get punched in the head so hard in their first bout that cerebral fluid trickles out of their eye sockets. - "Ohhh, that's fucked Randy..." It happens. It's pretty much the perfect example of why we're sort of festering in this evolutionary cul-de-sac, isn't it? - "Welcome to planet earth, there's approximately seven billion of us, as you can see there's quite a few of us that don't have any clean drinking water, OH! Here's a large group of us that get paid millions of dollars to knee each other in the face! Obviously still... Ironing out a few of the kinks." Martial arts, mixed or otherwise, should not be the domain of fat-necked roughians trying to stomp on each other's ballsacks. Just as yoga should not be taught by twenty-two year old gym instructors that did a one week yoga retreat in Bali and now get around in low-slung fisherman pants with a bindy and a plat talking about mindfulness like they've ever had any fucking life experience at all. I'm sorry, you can tell me to relax and center myself when you spend maybe ten or fifteen years considering what that actually means. Until then, go back to taking photos of the froth on your coffee and shut the fuck up. And I'm torn! I'm torn because I do yoga! I buy oragnic vegetables. I blindly sign internet petitions without reading the fine print, give myself a good old pat on the back and go back to downloading hardcore pornography... I'm trying to be a good buddhist, I'm trying... But it's even difficult to identify as buddhist in the current climate without coming off as some sort of new-age pompous twat dipping his toe into the "What does it all mean?" kiddie pool while holding a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and staring lecherously across the back yard at your cousin's tits. - "Geez, Tamara's grown up since last Christmas, hasn't she..." And I mean, Buddha was just a dude who found enlightenment sometime around the fifth century, and he decided to stick around and talk about it, y'know. But he made it clear that everything's optional, I guess, y'know, "here's the thing I've discovered, I think it's pretty nifty, but you can find your own way through it". He was kind of like a benevolent woodwork teacher, just overseeing the workshop, but allowing his students to discover for themselves which machine is most likely to cut their fucking head off. - BRRRRRRRRRRR-WAUGH! - "It was that one, Gareth, well done. A plus, matey, A plus for you." And there's been loads of other buddhas since, right, but they haven't necessarily felt the calling to stick around and talk about it. I guess they just become enlightened and fuck off. I think that's fantastic. But ... Are you only enlightened if you're able to share it with people? Y'know? If I write a book and nobody reads it, is it still art? What is the collective noun for monkeys? ... ... ... Seriously, does anybody know what it is? I was trying to think of it all day. Anybody? (Inaudible audience response) What? (Audience member:) "Gang" Gang? Gang of monkeys? Coming through on my gang of monkeys, we're a little gang of monkeys, ooh-A-A-A! It's not gang! Anybody else? If you come up with something stupid, I'll sing a dumb song about it ..? What else? (Inaudible audience response) What is it? (Inaudible audience response) ... Oh you people are fucked. Does anybody know what it is? It's not barrel, by the way. It's troop. What, what did you say, uhh... Gang. Who-what, what's your name, who said gang? Where are you? (Victoria:) "Victoria." Victoria? How are you, Victoria? (Victoria:) "Great." Thanks for coming to my show. Hey, Victoria, riddle me this m'sister, have you read "Go Set a Watchman"? Harper Lee's new book? (Victoria:) "Naw." Naw. Has anybody read it? (Audience member:) "Half." Half. That is the best book review ever. - "I read half." Has anybody read "To Kill a Mockingbird"? (audience responds yes) yEES we reAD IT at scHOOL, fuck off. For those of you who haven't- for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, "Go Set a Watchman" was the Harper Lee book that came out last year, right, and if you don't know the backstory, alright, I'll just fill you in. Victoria, listen up. Um... Basically, Harper Lee, right? So, Harper Lee, she had a stroke in two thousand and seven, and until she died earlier this year, she was in like, assisted care, she was in a wheelchair, she was deaf and she was blind, and her sister Alice had been taking care of all of her affairs, until Alice died in twenty fourteen at the age of one hundred and three, like a fucking boss... Anyway before Alice died she was pretty much the last line of defence between Harper and this 'lawyer' that had just sort of been loitering in the wings, right. And when Alice died, this 'lawyer' just happened to discover the manuscript for "Go Set a Watchman" in the locked safety deposit box in an obscure vault in a random bank, where it had been busy minding its own business for the last fifty-six and a half years, and according to the 'lawyer', Harper was delighted that the manuscript had been discovered, and suddenly reversed her life-long vow to never ever ever publish another book ever ever again, particularly not "Go Set a Watchman" which she actually wrote before "To Kill a Mockingbird" and didn't think was very good. Other people think that maybe the 'lawyer' was attempting to get filthy rich by brutally fist-fucking an eighty-nine year old stroke victim, but the question is; ... ... ... The question is, if "To Kill a Mockingbird" had've stayed in that vault, alongside this newly discovered manuscript, would it still technically be a work of literary genius? Or is it only when something's been evaluated by the world and possibly someone's made some cash off it that it's considered to be valid artistic expression? Is art only art once it's been witnessed? Acknowledged? If I don't take a bow at the end of this show, does it devalue the performance? Will you feel unsatisfied? Or rejected? ... I recently read that book "The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work" by Alaine de Button, and in it, he says; "we might consider art as anything which pushes our thoughts in important, yet neglected directions". Now, I'd like to consider what I do artistic expression, but that sort of poses the question - do people really need their thought pushed in the direction of old ladies being brutally fist-fucked? Is that my artistic legacy? Is that what I'm gonna leave behind? Y'know, "Randy... He was the old lady fisting guy, wasn't he? Eh. Very droll, very droll. Yeah." Because Ernest Hemingway is remembered more for his literary talents than for being an insufferable cunt with a penchant for killing shit and cheating on his multiple wives, does his artistic legacy outshine his tactless and unfortunate personal life? Is it better to be a mindful human that leaves no palpable remnants of artistry behind, or a violently unlikeable sexual deviant that shits handfuls of heart-breakingly beautiful sonnets and sonnatas out of his asshole before brunch? Because it's the image of the tortured, self-destructive artist that prevails nine times out of ten. Amy Winehouse was just a girl that wanted to sing some songs, do you know what I mean? So... Should I just keep my fucking mouth shut? And try to navigate towards enlightenment, leaving behind an intangible trail of good deeds? Or do I dive deeper and deeper into the inky, black ocean of self-destruction and self-indulgence until I nail my chosen art form, leaving an echo for the eternal wonderment of countless future generations that will just breeze over my asshole personality? ... it's what's keeping me up in the night times. Eh... (Pause) Y'know, from the moment we're born we become less than human? You know that? E-... E-hh... Eh... All the bacteria from our mother is passed onto us on the way out of the womb, and from then on, we just continue to collect shit, on the inside and the outside, until the day we expire. Occasionally, you get to choose what that shit is, but most of the time you have very little say in where it comes from or when. You just have to duck and weave your way through the shit for as long as you can, until the chunk of shit with your name on it finally-AAARGH! cleans you up. Look, I know this was billed as a comedy, but a-ha-ha-HAA! LET'S TALK ABOUT DEATH! Woo! There are some pretty fucking ridiculous ways to die, though- OH, like that guy, that scuba diver they found when they put out the bush fire! *oh my go-od have you heard this fucking sto-ory?* They put out, like, a bush fire, and they found a dude in full scuba gear, and they figured out that the water bomber plane or helicopter that scoops up the water to put out the fire accidentally picked up a diver and dumped him into the flames! What a fucked up way to go! It's pretty much the polar opposite of "He died peacefully in his sleep", isn't it? Just dumped out of a plane into a blazing inferno... with a highly flammable gas tank instead of a parachute strapped to your back? - "NOOoo!" (Explosion noice) "I just wanted to look at the fish..." What do you say to his family? - "Uhh... At least he died doing what he loved." Well, he was a firefighter that enjoyed skydiving and water sports, but I'm not sure he ever wanted to combine the three... That's better, isn't it? - "Tell more jokes you little purple fucker." I had a good joke the other day - How do you know if a hippie has been to your house? ... They're still there. Haa... How do you know if someone's vegan? ... They'll tell you, yes, ahaHAHAA! Hahahaha, I'm vegan. Um... I initially became vegan for environmental and ethical reasons, and now I just do it to give people the shits at dinner parties. Like, - "Get it away, I can't eat that, meat is murder, STOP HAVING FUN EVERYONE!" It's a funny conversation, the vegan one, you bring it up, people just go - "... shut up fuckhead" But it's funny, 'cuz you know you don't actually need to eat meat. You don't NEED it. Nobody actually needs it. Unless you're on hemodialasys and you have to inhale a rare porterhouse steak every three hours to stop your kidneys backing in, you don't actually need it. That makes it a choice, and it's your choice. As long as you understand that that choice is born from belief and that particular belief is called "carnism". It's an inherited belief system that sort of conditions us to eat meat, and the notion is so... pervasive, I guess, it's viewed as a given rather than a choice. But it's totally a choice. - "Where do you get your proteins from then you little poofter!?" PEAS! (Gasp) It's crazy. And I know it's easy to just lump veganism in with all the other food allergies and just go - "They're the annoying fuckheads that don't eat the good stuff" which I get, I totally get... We're having Christmas at my house this year, right? Three months out, my cousin calls me to discuss her son, my cousin's son, which makes him... Someone I couldn't give a fuck about, anyway; She calls me up, the first thing she says - she doesn't even say hello - the first thing she says is "Brayden can't have blue." - "What the fuck? - "BRAYDEN can't eat BLUE FOODS." Apparently this kid, if he eats anything with a blue food preservative in it, he just KLKH (imitates death) just taps out. That is bullshit! Firstly, don't call your kid Brayden. Secondly... secondly, blue is not even a natural colour for foodstuffs. It occurs very rarely in nature- name me one blue food. (Audience member:) "Blueberry." BLUEBERRIES ARE FUCKING PURPLE! I'm talking about mentos blue, like seven eleven slushie blue, what flavour is that? Fucking highlighter? - "Ah no Randy, blue means mint-" MINT IS GREEN- if you planted mint and it came up blue, you would SET that SHIT on FIRE. - "And that's cool! It's cool! it's like ice, it's like water!" Water is clear. The only time water is blue, is when there's billions of tonnes of it and it's all in the one spot. And then it's got all sorts of shit in it, like salt, and SHARKS ... BLUE MEANS SHARKS IN IT! don't eAt iT it'S gOT SHARKS IN IT! You know, when sharks eat people, it's fucked, but it shits me how they immmediately go out and kill the shark like - "awrH it's gONe roGUe. iT's gOnE rOgUE!" No it hasn't, it's just doing what millions of years of evolution have programmed it to do, fucking swim around eating shit. - "yeeeeeeeah but ... ... ... it came into our bit. thIs bit's oUR bit oF tHe ocEAn." No-see that bit there? That big fucking wet bit? That's its bit. This bit here, all of this dry bit here, that you're standing on with your legs, your legs that have evolved to stand on the dry bit, that's your bit. You go into its bit, you're going to get bit. That's the lesson. ... Paddle out next to a seal colony and wiggle your ass around like a slutty little ol' dove, complaining when you get munched. It's that weird disconnect, y'know, it's the same thing as carnism, it's like if I imagine a pig is just a pig, and all pigs are the same, then I can detach what is on my plate from how it got there. It's just how most of us are brought up, y'know. But if you saw someone slit the throat of a Labrador, and then string it upside down to die an excrutiating death just squirming and bleeding out at the end of a steel hook, you'd think it was a bit fucked. How is a pig any different? It's not. It's actually not ... I said that on stage in Rock Hampton, in Queensland about four months ago. I was like, "how is a pig any different?", and a man in the audience yelled out "BACON!". Touché, sir. You win this round. He actually came up to me after the show - I was standing at the merch desk not selling anything - and he-.. I saw him coming from the other side of the room, just this massive dude, like - (stomping noises) - "Ah, you're a large man" and he said - "I was the one that said bacon" - "fucking don't kill me" and he goes - "nah, you alright mate, you alright mate, you alr-" It's the most passive-aggressive Aussie male thing you can say to another- - "naah, you alright mate, you-" It basically means "I wanna punch your fucking head in, but I don't wanna upset me misses. You alright mate." Anyway, he goes to me, - "Mate, you're not gonna make any friends in rock hampton being vegan. Did you know that Rocky is actually the beef capital of Australia-" - "ah fuck I didn't know that" - "-with over two and a half million head of cattle within a two point five k radius of the town centre?" - "fuck I didn't know that either" - "And that is a fair wack of the thirteen million head of cattle in Queensland alone, seventy percent of which is bred purely for export. Few fun facts for ya matey, few fun facts." I said - "thank you sir I did not know any of that" Did you know that, globally, cows produce thirty-eight percent more greenhouse gas than every single car, truck, bus, boat, train, and plane combined each year? That breeding animals for food uses up one third of the planet's fresh water? Takes up fourty-five percent of the earth's surface, and is responsible for a whopping ninety-one percent of amazon destruction, making it the number one leading cause of species extionction, resource consumption, and environmental degradation destroying the planet on a daily basis? FEW FUN FACTS FOR YA MATEY, FEW FUN FACTS FOR YA! Now, I'm aware this is in danger of becoming a TED talk at this point... - "jesus, a lot of statistics, is there gonna be a test?" It's alright, it's fine, I'll read the book, alright? I'll read the book. Not forcing my opinions on you, I'm merely saying them with a microphone, and you're paying for it. LOCK THE DOORS-no, seriously, okay, here we go. Khm. I'm gonna read the book. Y'know we've got McDonald's home delivery now? Does anyone do that? (Audience responds) You... You do? You know you can already get it in your car? You can get it without getting out of your car, but what McDonald's have now done is they've removed the gruelling walk from the front door to the car, so you no longer have to do that humiliating - "BWAAAAAARGGGGGHHHHH- WUUUUUUUUUAHHHH! OOOOOOOAAAAARGGHHHH! Now I have to reverend carpool! Oh, God damn you, God damn you -click- MRRRRRRGHHHH! HMMMMMRGHH! MMMMOOUUHHH WHY CANNOT THEY JUST BRING IT TO MEIN HAUS?" Well now they can. I think it's a good thing. Keep the fatties off the streets, STOP 'EM HOGGING UP THE FOOT PATHS, if they wanna eat shit, let them do it in their own home- WHO'S WITH ME? (Audience starts applauding) Don't clap that, it's a horrible thing to say. yoU'RE moNSTerS! ... Okay. You all good Mattie? Sweet. Okay, here we go. Blblblblbl, okay, kh-hm, alright, here we go, buggedabuggedabuggeda, okay. Stop it! Okay ... Do you like my typewriter, by the way? Isn't it beautiful? It's basically here just as a prop, but occasionally I am always tempted to just go ... (humming). Eh? A few "Murder She Wrote" fans in the house? Heyo? Everyone else going - "What? What is that? Sounds like an old person's joke." ... it is! It is! It totally is! Alright. Here we go. Okay, fuck, here we go. Blblblblbl. Walking to Skye, chapter one ... I bought a bookshelf on Gumtree recently, um, it was an amazing experience, I'll quickly tell you about it and then I'll read the book, but- I found it strange, becasue it made me start to think about the way our, like, methods of communication have sort of changed over the years, y'know? In the old days, if you wanted a bookshelf, you'd just go see Gareth the Bookshelf Guy, 'cuz he was the dude in your tribe that made the bookshelves, he had a little bookshelf cave, he was REPUTABLE. Now any mad bastard can sell their shit on Gumtree, you know what I mean? As a species, we're sort of able to cope with knowing and gossiping around like a hundred, or a hundred and fifty people. That's like the limit of our tribe. Any more than that, it starts to get confusing, which is why we created abstract constructs like territories and deities to unite larger groups of people under an imaginary common factor. And it works the trick, because we only really gather en masse on special occasions, but I think like social media and mmmh... It's fucking all that up, y'know? I think we're able to deal with the thousands of people we're connected to on a daily basis, and as a result we neglect our immediate one fifty, y'know? That's why I never get invited to parties anymore. It's not 'cuz I ramble on about veganism and fisting old ladies, it's because I'm not on facebook and everybody just assumes you are. I am so behind on the births, deaths, and marriages of my friends that I feel like the time traveller's wife every time I go to a party, I'm like... - "This is Tim, he's our son, he's six now-" - "Fucking... Didn't even know you were pregnant." Anyway, you know smartphones, aren't they great? You know that, right, they're not, they're not that great, you don't need the internet in your pocket, you work at Cole's, okay? You're not working for the president, you don't need it, you don't need that much information. And also, what was the point of developing opposable thumbs for you to take a photo of your head, post it on the internet, and then just stand by for validation. No-one gives a fuck about your head! They'll only validate it in order to gain permission to post a photo of their own head on the internet and stand by for validation. The people who give a fuck about your head will at some point see it in real life. Fuck your head and the neck it rode in on. Your vanity is sucking up my bandwidth ... Anyway this is what's going through my head as I'm on Gumtree looking for a bookshelf, because- you know when you put something on the... on the... in like... in the search in booktree- in booktree? what the fuck- When you put something in the search on Gumtree - I'm having a stroke up here - When you put something in the search, right, and like, there's always a couple of things that come up in the list that are like the polar opposite of what you searched for, and like "get out of my head gumtree algorithms, CONSPIRACY!"? No but seriously, it's all you type, it's like "bookshelf", and it's all bookshelf, bookshelf, bookshelf, grammophone? Huh. Bookshelf, bookshelf, bookshelf, combine harvester? What the fuck? ... Huh, that's actually a pretty good price. Anyway, on this particular day, I found two bookshelves that worked for me, in terms of cost, and more importantly, geographical convenience, 'cuz I'd be fucked if I'm driving to Broad Meadows to pick up a bookshelf, right? So I type in bookshelf, and I see the two things, and I'm like okay, one seller is Cathy, the other is Morgan. I send them both the same text message, "Hello! I saw your bookshelf on gumtree, is it still available?". Cathy texts back straight away, saying - "sorRRY iT wENt thIS MorNING!" - "That's cool, Cathy, I'm sorry I gave you an annoying voice in the retelling of this story." Morgan's response came through a couple of minutes later, and simply read, - "It was my wife's bookshelf." ... HOW DO YOU RESPOND TO THAT? Aside from the fact that it doesn't answer my fucking question... His use of past tense in that sentence unnerved me slightly. I'm like, aahhh, I should probably just find another bookshelf... And then I noticed he lived in the suburb next to me, so I replied; - "Is it still available?" He responded with the letter Y. Just a Y. Is he asking me why I wanna know if it's still available? Or is it a Y for "yes", and he's so in the throws of grief that he can't manage the E and the S? I assume it's a Y for "yes" and respond, - "Cool! I'll take it. When's a good time to come and pick it up?" No reply for fifteen minutes, I'm like... ah he's forgotten about it, fuck it, I'll find another bookshelf, and then when his reply actually does come through I realize he spent those fifteen minutes crafting his response, because it's a FUCKING THESIS. He must've felt so bad about only using a single consonant in his previous text that he just massively overcompensated with this one. Also, for some reason, felt that the use of punctuation? Entirely unnecessary. So it's just one obscenely long sentence, which reads; - "You must come and pick up now I only have short time here at house and also it wide so bring van or trailer and there's stair but I can help you carry it down stair if you come park out front walk up path ring bell and I will help you carry it to trailer or van I only accept cash and if you do not come now I will sell it someone else" (Shriek) Again I'm thinking, ahhh, I should just find another bookshelf at this point, but now I am FASCINATED by Morgan, and I simply must meet the man. So I drive over to his house- before I left, I sent him a message saying - "Cool, I'll be there in ten minutes" and he replied "ok", but spelled it OK-A-Y which just fascinated me more, that he'll use four letters to spell a two letter word, but only one letter to spell a three letter word, MORGAN IS OFF THE FUCKING CHAIN! And as I'm driving over to his house, I'm trying to picture what he's gonna be like, y'know... His pidgin English might suggest ethnicity of some sort, but I don't wanna racially profile him; Maybe he's an old man who recently lost his wife and is not that very good at texting, or maybe, and I'm really hoping this is the case, Morgan is just batshit crazy. So I get to his house, and I go up to the- ehe, I park out front walk up path ring bell, and I... I brace myself for the door to be opened by like, an old man in a smoking jacket, wearing fishnet stockings and suspenders, just puffing on an opium pipe while a butler just creepily polishes a goldfish in the background, and then a tiny pugdog wearing a fez hat just trots up the hallway, sits on the mat, looks up at me and says "RELCOME TO OUR ROVERY ROME!"... And then the door opens, and I am thoroughly disappointed. Before me stands an average caucasian male in his mid-thirties, dressed casually, hipster sheek, stubble, glasses with designer frames, expensive watch - I immediately think "architect?" but the house is too cheesy for that - it's like a double story doll's house with bay windows - but definitely a designer of some kind? Maybe a graphic designer? He's too skinny for manual labour, but he's too hip for the public sector, BUT THIS CAN'T BE MORGAN. Because Morgan's text messages would suggest that he's not that technically savvy, and then the man standing in front of me says - "Hello my name is Morgan" AND THE PLOT THICKENS! He invites me in, shakes my hand, closes the door, and twenty minutes later, I will be witnessing Morgan perform some of the most aggressive acts of violence I've ever seen in my life, and I will be speeding away in my car bleeding from the face. Here's how this shit went down... I go into the house, and I notice two things immediately; One, this is a house in the throws of renovation. Nothing too extreme, but there's like drop sheets on all the furniture, there's freshly painted walls, there's a bathtub wrapped in plastic in the hallway, awaiting installation- someone's doing some work on this house. The second thing I notice, on the way up the stairs to the second floor, on the first floor landing, is a wedding photograph featuring a very cleanly shaven Morgan with a very beautiful bride. Very much in love! The photograph is very much on the floor, and the glass in the frame is very much smashed. She's not dead, she's left him, and THE PLOT THICKENS A BIT MORE FOR MORGAN! And as Morgan unceremoniously like, kicks the photo frame to one side on the way up the stairs, I really wanted to pry into Morgan's life and ask heaps of inappropriate questions... But he was clearly a broken man. He had this terrible air of sadness around him, so I didn't wanna intrude. Luckily for me, though, I didn't have to, because Morgan immediately began oversharing and told me the whole fucking story aaAAAH! Thank you Morgan! I shall hang off your every word and then retell your tale to two hundred strangers and record it for a fucking DVD! He IS a graphic designer -YES!- and he's really good at it. He does like massive rebranding campaigns for large corporations, he gets flown all over the world doing this shit, right? About four years ago, a woman hired Morgan to rebrand her florist business, and he did such a great job she married him. And he thought everything was just fine, until about three months ago. Morgan had to do a presentation in Sydney, right? But he was on his way home from overseas and got stuck in Dubai due to a flight cancellation, so rather than cancel the meeting, Morgan suggested to these businessmen in Sydney that they do a Skype chat, because he's so technologically savvy, despite his fucking baffling text message style. So Morgan checks into a hotel, cracks open his laptop, and starts skyping with this room full of businessmen in Sydney, who are all watching Morgan on a massive screen on their boardroom wall, right? And everything's going great, Morgan is totally nailing it, until about halfway through; He realizes that a file he wants to show these dudes is on the desktop of his home computer back in his home office in Melbourne. And he decides to live share the desktop of his home computer on the Skype chat. He knows how to do that, he can remote control his computer from anywhere in the world, it's not particularly new technology, but Morgan makes it sound so impressive. So this room full of businessmen are all watching keenly, like - "OOAHP! MARGARET, BRING IN SOME BISCUITS, THERE'S SOME NEW-FANGLED SHIT GOING ON IN HERE!!!" as Morgan clicks a few buttons and (click) brings up the desktop of his home computer on the Skype chat. Now, what Morgan doesn't realize is that his wife has been using the "Photobooth" app on that particular computer to take pictures of herself. To take naked pictures of herself. To take naked pictures of herself... doing some pretty fucked up shit. It's embarassing, to say the least, just as Margaret came back in with the biscuits- - "I've got you the b-WHUIEAAAAURRRHHH!!!" Now, those of you who are familiar with the Photobooth app will know that how it works, is it accesses the built-in camera in your computer and with the click of a button, (click) takes a photo of you when you're standing in front of your screen. And if you know that, you also know that if you leave that application open, the camera also stays open, witnessing whatever may be happening in front of the computer, in real time. Such as your wife, in your home office, fucking your best mate. OOOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOORGANNNN... Nooooo... Morgan then goes on to tell me she's keeping the house, his former best mate is moving in, and while they're out for the day shopping for fittings, Morgan must suffer the indignity of moving his shit out, and selling the stuff they don't want on Gumtree to this guy. Ahhh... It's at this point of the story that Morgan starts crying, he breaks down, and I do not blame the man, it's fucking horrible and I just wanna give him a big hug and say "Everything's gonna be alright, Morgan", but I am holding the full weight of a BOOKSHELF halfway down a set of STAIRS and Morgan is the only thing stopping that bookshelf from caving my face in- I was like, MORGAN! MMMMORGAN! And Morgan managed to pull himself together ... for about eight seconds? And then just went BAHHH and let the bookshelf go. I fell backwards, it literally rolled over me, and took out the light hanging above the staircase, I'm now lying on my back getting showered in broken glass, as the bookshelf turned end over end and just went FONK right through a freshly painted wall at the bottom of the stairs. I'm like, AAH. aaAAAh. aaAAAAAAhhh. aaAAAAAHHH. I've got a tiny cut on my forehead which is just pissing blood, for some reason - apart from that, I'm fine. Morgan, however - he's not fine! Morgan is the opposite of fine. Something happened when the bookshelf lodged itself in the wall and his sadness just (click) went away in a second, and he started PISSING HIMSELF laughing. Hysterical. And he had the creepiest laugh I've ever heard in my life- I'm standing there like "this is weird" and he's like "mwhueHUEUEEUEUEUE! mhhwuEUEUEUE!" like some sort of demonically possessed baritone cookaburra, - "mwhueEUUEUEE, a-HOGUGUGUGAGAGAGA!" - "Um... Uh..." - "mwueEUEUUEUEUE" - "can I still have the bookshelf?" - "yuuEEEEAAH" We extract it from the wall - the bookshelf, incidentally, showing no sign of having just rolled down a staircase and smashed through a wall. We carry it out to my car- we had to stop about six times, 'cuz Morgan was like - "Hang on a minute, mwueHUEUEUEUEUEE" We got it to my car, put it on the trailer, and Morgan was in such a great mood he let me have the bookshelf for free. Ohh! Hahaha... Mm... And that's where the story SHOULD end. But there was something about the bookshelf going through the wall that flipped a fucking switch in Morgan's head, and he is now hungry for more destruction. So as I started tying the bookshelf down to my trailer, Morgan just strolls over to like an upright mailbox on the front lawn and just starts trying to wrench it out of the ground. Really putting his back into it. I'm like, "are you okay buddy" and he's like "YEAP" (struggling) HUAH! He pulls it out of the ground whereupon he wields it like a fucking battleaxe and just starts smashing up the front garden, just beheading the daisies, fucking up the lavender... I'm like, "uhh, hey Morgan, maybe you wanna stop and think about that" and he whirled around and looked at me like Jack Nicolson chasing Shelly Duvalle up the stairs in the shining and said - "WHY DON'T YOU MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS?" ... yep, yep, cool, man, yep, yep... Now, I like tying knots. I'm quite good at tying knots if I tie something down I take my time because I want it to stay there... But as Morgan nonchalantly strolled up the driveway, rolled up the garage door, and put the mailbox through the windscreen of an Audi!? I must admit, I kind of rushed my knot tying job. I got in my car, I'm about to drive off, I'm like, looking at the house going "ah, I'm sure he'll be fine" and then an armchair smashed out of an upstairs window and just went DOINK DOINK DOINK DOINK down the front lawn. I was like "... what's my duty of care in this situation?". I didn't want to call the cops on him, I didn't want him to trash the house, I'm like - "daw fuck I'm gonna have to talk to Morgan" So I got out, I walked up the driveway shitting myself- you know when someone does something really violent and you're just like "ah, fuck, we're not supposed to do shit like that!"? Yucky, just yucky feeling in my tum-tum- and I'm standing there, standing there in the garage and there's like an adjoining door in the garage that leads into the house. I can see in through the door into the house, up the staircase, it's like a wooden staircase, and I'm standing in the garage just going - "ah fuck..." (gulp) "morgaaaan. Morgaaaan!" Like I was calling a cat for its dinner? "Morgan! Moggie-moggie-moggie-moggie-moggie!" And then I notice a small trickle of water start to come from the top step. And then a little bit more water, and then QUITE A LOT OF WATER, just pissing down the stairs like shitty water feature, I'm like "aw that can't be right" and then Morgan appeared on the top step holding a hammer like this: - "BAAAH!" (jumps out) I was like - "WOAH!" and he's like - "mwhuEUEUEUE" Starts running at me wielding the hammer, like "UEUEUEUE", I'm like "aw no no I just wanted to buy a bookshelf..." he's like "UEUEUEUEUEUE-.. RRAH!" runs straight past me, I'm like - "Where are you going?" he's like - "UEEEH!" made a beeline for my car, I'm like - "NO, MAN! STOP!" he's like - "UEUEUEUEUUEUE" - "STOP IT! JUST STOP!" He spins around and goes - "I just checked my phone, she texted me fifteen minutes ago saying she'll be here in fifteen minutes, WE'RE GONNA GO!" and gets into my car! - "fucking... jesus... fuck me" I run down the lawn, get in the driver's seat, I'm like - "What was with the water?" he goes - "Ah, I put plugs in all of the sinks and turned all the taps on!" I'm like - "Oh that's fucked" He's like - "JUST DRIVE!" I was like - "AAH!" I took off so quick, rounded the corner of his street, and the bookshelf just went "mrrreeUUWh-BOOSH" and exploded against the guard rail, just exploded in a shower of badly tied knots and broken dreams... So me and Morgan just fucking left it there, like a little breadcrumb for his ex wife to find on the way home to her destroyed gingerbread house. I dropped Morgan at a train station. I have never seen him again. And that, my friends, is why I no longer shop on Gumtree. Thank you very much! Thank you very much. (Applause) Haha, ah, fuck... You know my favourite bit of that story? I just made it up. Yes, not true. There is no Morgan. MMMH! It's very unsatisfying, isn't it? - "But I saw him in my head. I saw Morgan in my head." ... ... ... Why is it we can feel so robbed when someone tells us a story we just heard isn't true, and yet so satisfied at the end of a fictional novel? Y'know? You know that? ... You know the other great thing about that story? First draft. FUCK YOU HEMINGWAY! ... (sigh) Can't end on that, can I? - "Those LIES? WE DID NOT COME HERE TO BE HOODWINKED, SIR!" The truth, eh? ... The truth is, I'm... I'm not an exceptional person, y'know? Nothing interesting really ever happens to me, I'm massively flawed, and I think I'm quite forgettable, if I'm being a hundred percent honest. And this isn't the shit bit at the end of the show where I get on the cross, I'm like "lOve mE on the wAY OUt thE doOr". It's not that, it's just that I don't think- on a scale from one to memorable, I'm not that memorable. Not on like the Morgan sort of scale, not on the Ernest Hemingway scale, certainly, y'know... But if I tell a great story, maybe people will remember that instead. Remember the card trick and just... pretend that they don't know how it's done, y'know? ... But must we leave a legacy? MUST we make an impact? Do we HAVE TO leave a footprint? Is it okay to just settle, seek safety, nest, y'know? Or must we constantly shake our lives up, or suffer the indiscriminate cruelty of having it shaken against our will? Must we try to carve a path through the tall grass, feeling as though no-one has ever felt how we feel? Terrified at what may be lurking low in the grass on either side of us, but just pressing ever on with that paleolithic instinct deep within our chromosomes that the only way is forward, that you HAVE TO keep going? That eventually you'll stumble upon the edge of the field, hitch a ride from a passing car, and meet up with the rest of the gang for tea and sandwiches at the old town hall? ... (deep breath) Do we feel like the path that we are carving through the grass is all our own? Only to finally float above the field with the sweet relief of expiration and realize that the field is insignificantly miniscule in size, and that there's only one path through the grass - the exact same one that every human has trod before us will ever after, just stumbling blindly along a tiny hyphen between the words "birth" and "death". And when reduced to that level of crisp simplicity, fear cannot exist ... So. (pausing, readying) Phew. Walking to Skye, chapter one: (Blackout) (Applause and credits)

[artificialqueens]

Merry Christmas, Baby, You Sure Do Treat Me Nice (Pearlet) - Sammy Indigo

A/N: Puppies. It’s Pearlet with a puppy. At Christmas. That’s it.

Working in a bar meant that Matt often found himself walking home in the dark and cold early hours, and in order to make it home to Jason faster, he snuck through the alleyways on the backs of buildings that would be long closed for the evening.

Jason hated it. They had friends who had been attacked and intimidated, in similar situations, and the thought of Matt walking home alone in the dark winding passageways, away from any civilisation, kept him awake until he heard his boyfriend’s key in the front door of their apartment.

It was worse in the winter. The dark nights were longer, the air colder, and some nights Jason felt like he couldn’t cope. The anxiety ate at him as he waited up, curled on the couch with blankets covering him as he shivered, watching late night infomercials, trying to take his mind away from his worry about Matt.

It was a Sunday night when Matt was late coming home. Technically a Monday morning. It had been snowing steadily for a few hours, and the air outside was foggy. The club closed up at two, and was locked up around two thirty, Matt home and safe by three. But it was three thirty-seven, and Jason was feeling sick as he paced the living room.

Matt wasn’t answering his phone. It was going straight to voicemail. If he wasn’t dead already, Jason was going to kill him.

And then the key jangled against the lock. He struggled with the lock for a couple of seconds, keys clacking against their door. Jason heard him swear from the other side.

When the door swung open, and Jason ran towards Matt (whether to kiss or kill him, he hadn’t decided), it took a second for him to register that Matt had something in one arm, tucked into his coat. The thing moved of its own volition and Jason stopped in his tracks. The thing’s head poked out.

“What the fuck is that?” Jason asked, already knowing the answer.

Matt grinned. “I found a puppy.” He pulled back his collar to fully reveal the little dirty pest. “He’s so adorable. And he was all alone in the snow.”

Jason crossed his arms. “I thought you were dead, you jerk. You didn’t answer your phone.”

Matt had the decency to look sheepish. “It died at the club.”

“You will, too, if you ever fucking do that to me, again.”

“I’m sorry.” He held out the puppy, as though it were a peace offering.

Jason took a step back, grimacing. “Put it in the bathroom and close the door. That shelter on third probably opens at like seven or eight. We’ll drop it there in the morning.”

Horrified, Matt tucked the puppy back under his coat. “No.” He said. “Jay, he followed me. I rescued him.”

“We are not keeping that thing in our house.” Jason said. “It’s probably got rabies. Or scurvy, or something.”

“Scurvy is what pirates get.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Matthew.” Jason snapped. “Just know, that I won’t have that damn dog living in my house. Got it?”

Matt pouted.

……………..

Four weeks, three trips to the vets, and four hundred dollars later, and the puppy was still in the apartment.

It squeaked at Jason’s feet as he tried to do their dishes. He looked down at it. The fluffy white fur around its face was flat on one side from where it had been napping under their kitchen table, just minutes before. It yawned and stretched its short legs.

Jason waited for it to look up at him. “I don’t like you.” He said.

It tried to tug on the bottom of his jeans, and Jason hissed at it. The puppy whined and backed away with its tail between its legs.

“Okay,” Matt said, walking into the room and scooping up the dog, “I get that he’s not your favourite thing, but you’re not actually a cat, Jay.” He nuzzled the puppy’s head. “You don’t have to hiss at him.”

“It’s a menace.”

“He.” Matt said. “And he’s not. He’s just a puppy. Aren’t ya, Snowball?”

Jason groaned. “Snowball? You named it?”

“Yeah, it’s cute, right.” Matt cuddled the puppy close. It licked his face. “’Cause I found him in the snow, and he’s white. Like a ‘lil snowball.”

“Oh, God.” Jason threw his pink rubber gloves into the sink. “Does this mean you’re attached to it? You named it, and now you’re attached to it?”

Matt held Snowball up to his face. “He’s my baby.”

“Fuck’s sake, Matthew. You’re a grown man.”

……………….

  Snowball peed on the carpet.

And chewed holes in Jason’s shoes.

He cried through the night and woke them up at three am.

He left his toys in the middle of the room for Jason to trip over.

And he took all Matt’s attention by just sitting there, acting cute. That was supposed to be Jason’s job.

Plus, he was expensive.

It was the holiday season, and everything seemed to be more expensive. Even their rent had increased as their lease renewed, and Jason and Matt had had to sit down with a calculator, and papers spread across the coffee table, to work out their finances. Jason felt guilty. Matt was having to pick up the slack, working at the club five nights a week, and then picking up a seasonal job as a delivery person during the day. He was exhausted, and Jason felt like shit when their friends asked if he was still on the sick from his job.

When he voiced this, Matt told him to shut up. That his mental health was worth more than any money he would be bringing home from a dead end job that was detrimental to him. Matt was an angel, but Jason couldn’t help but feel inadequate sometimes.

“Please don’t forget to walk Snowball.” Matt said as he pulled his jacket over his hoodie. “Otherwise you’ll be cleaning up pee, again.”

Jason sighed. “It’s fucking freezing. Can’t he walk himself?”

Matt glared at him. “Please?” He said, walking over to Jason on the couch. He leaned over the back of it, wrapping both arms around Jason’s shoulders and hugging him. “Please try and be nice to the dog? Just try, and I’m sure you’ll grow to love him.”

Jason twisted his face into a grimace. “I don’t love anything except you and pizza rolls.”

Matt kissed his cheek. “Be nice to Snowball.” He kissed him again. “And I’ll be back later. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I guess.”

Matt stuck his tongue out at him as he grabbed his bag and walked over to the door. Snowball trotted behind him, yapping and trying to jump up Matt’s legs.

“Bye bye, baby.” He cooed. “You gotta stay here and Daddy’s gotta go to work now-,”

“No.”

“-so I’ll see you when I get home.” He petted Snowball’s tiny head. “And Dada Jay-,”

“Absolutely not!”

“-is gonna walk you.” Matt stood up straight and blew Jason a kiss. “Love you, Dada.” He laughed.

Jason glared at him as the door closed.

Snowball sat down, face almost pressed against the closed front door, and waited. He whined for a few minutes, but upon realising Matt was not due to return anytime soon, he quieted, though remained at his guard of the door.

“Dumb dog.” Jason muttered on his way through to the bedroom.

………………….

It was over two hours later when Jason was awoken from an unintentional nap by his phone vibrating very close to his face. He cracked open an eye and quickly closed it again at the bright assault from his screen. A minute later, it buzzed for a second time as a reminder for the unread notification.

Jason resigned himself to properly checking it this time, and smiled when he saw the first line of a message from Matt.

Love you baby, don’t forget that

Jason smirked. Matt was such a softie. He made the effort to sit up on the bed and open the message, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The rest of the message popped up and Jason pursed his lips.

Love you baby, don’t forget that

you need to walk Snowball.

Jason typed out a message back.

Fuck off.

Not a minute later, and Matt responded with his own message, followed by a string of heart-eye emoticon faces.

Walk the dog, Jay. Love you, both.

Out of sheer pettiness, Jason chose not to respond.

In the living room, the stupid dog was still waiting by the front door. As Jason walked in, Snowball’s head perked up, and he watched him move around the room, remaining in his position by the door.

“Apparently,” Jason said, rooting around in the pile of laundry on their chair for a sweater, “you need to be walked.”

The dog jumped to his feet and began pacing in front of the door. Jason pulled the sweater over his head.

“You know what that means?” He asked.

Snowball whined.

“Walk?” Jason said, and the dog scratched at the door. “Huh. Didn’t know you could understand me.” He pulled on his scarf and coat. “Mattie got you a leash. Where does he keep it?”

The question wasn’t necessarily posed a the dog, just a rhetorical one aimed at the air, but when Jason began wandering around their kitchen, looking for the leash, Snowball made a beeline for the cabinet under their sink. He butted his head against the cabinet door, crying.

The leash, was in the bottom of the cupboard, obviously having been thrown there by Matt after his walk early in the morning. Jason looked down at the fluff at his feet.

“Let’s get this over with.”

  …………..

  The dog had pooped, and Jason was still mad he had had to pick it up, but aside from the trauma of that, and the fact that it was colder than a witch’s tit outside, the walk had gone without issue. To himself, Jason had to admit, he hadn’t actually hated walking Snowball. He had ended up being stopped on four separate occasions during their small excursion, simply because people wanted to pet Snowball. When they told Jason how cute the puppy was and how well behaved he was, he had felt a sense of pride that he had no right to.

Maybe, Jason had enjoyed it a little bit. But that was just because he was an attention whore.

He told Matt it was awful and he hated every second of it.

But he walked Snowball again the next day when Matt asked.

And the next day, when he asked.

And the next day when he didn’t ask.

And the next.

And the one after that.

Until it was Matt’s day off from his daytime job, and somehow they ended up walking him together.

“So, I was thinking we could maybe order take out and snuggle?” Matt said, pulling slightly on he and Jason’s linked arms as they walked. “I know it’s not super Christmassy, but-,”

“No, that sounds lovely.” Jason smiled. “I mean, it’s just another day, really? Christmas is just for the kids. That’s what my dad used to say.”

Matt pulled a little at Snowball’s leash as the puppy strayed too close to the roadside. “I guess. But I still want to go see the Christmas lights tonight.”

“Are we bringing the dog? It might be too long for him to walk. We’ll have to carry him.”

“Uh,” Matt gave him a peculiar look, “I assumed you’d want to leave him at home?”

Jason bristled. “Well, obviously. I just thought that you’d want to bring him. And I can’t be bothered with arguing.”

“Okay.” Matt smirked. “Well, we don’t have to bring him.”

“No, no.” Jason said, looking down as the dog trotted by his feet. “We’ll bring him if you insist.”

“Well, I wasn’t insisting, but okay.” Matt made to turn a corner and go down a side street, but Jason put a hand on his arm.

“No, Snowball likes going this way better.” He said, pulling him across the road.

Smiling, Matt followed him. “Okay, then. If you insist.”

  ………………..

  They went to the Christmas market to look at the lights, and half an hour in, Snowball began lagging behind them. Matt picked him up and put him inside his jacket and within ten minutes he was sound asleep against his chest.

“How big do you think he’ll get?” Jason asked. “You think you’ll be able to carry him in your coat for much longer?”

“He’s got kinda small paws.”

“What?”

“Like, if puppies have big paws they say they’ll be big dogs, but he has small paws.”

Jason slowed their walk as something on a stall caught his eye. “I hope he stays small.”

“Why? You gonna get a handbag to put him in?” Matt laughed.

The little stall next to them held Jason’s attention enough that he didn’t respond to Matt. A young woman behind the small craft table her wares were displayed on, waved, and Jason walked over. Matt trailed behind him, and amused smirk on his face once he realised what the lady was selling. He brushed a gloved hand over Snowball’s fur and whispered in his fluffy ear. “Your Dada’s going soft.”

“Hi.” The woman said. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” Jason replied, distractedly, looking over the various things on the table.

“I’m Adore. Everything on the table is handmade by me, and all individually priced. All safe for your fur babies. ”

“Cool.”

She looked at Matt, smiled, then spotted Snowball in his jacket and beamed. “Oh, cute!” Adore pointed to the dog. “Adorable. How old? And what’s their name? Oh! How long have you had them?”

Matt grinned. He stepped forward beside Jason and wrapped an arm around him. “Snowball.” He said and Adore squeaked. “He’s a few months old we think but not one hundred per cent sure. I found him in an alley.”

“Oh!” Adore looked heartbroken. “A rescue.” She perked herself up and smiled again. “But how wonderful he has his fur-ever home.”

Jason looked up at her. “Actually, he’s a temporary guest.”

“No he’s not.” Matt said.

“He would be if it were down to me.” Jason said.

Matt rolled his eyes. “Sure, Jan.”

Jason smacked his arm. “We best be going.” He nodded at Adore. “But, erm, you have cute stuff here, I guess.”

“Thank you.” Adore grinned. “Here.” She handed Jason a card. Taped to it was a tiny packet with two little biscuits in. “I make things custom, and I’m a just a pretty cool person. And those are puppy-safe treats.”

“Thanks.” Jason said. “Er, see you around.”

As they walked away, Adore called after them.

“Don’t forget! Puppies need presents off Santa, too! Unless you’re Jewish. But I make cool stuff for every religion! Call me!” She waved. “Bye Snowball. I love you!”

Matt turned to Jason. “I bet she’s so much fun to smoke with. We should invite her to New Years.”

“We don’t even know her.” Jason said, opening the little packet of dog treats.

“But I want to.”

“I kind of do, too.” He inspected one of the homemade biscuits, then held it close to Snowball’s face. “She had micro-braids, and somehow was pulling them off.”

Snowballs nose twitched, and he opened his eyes. He licked the treat once, then nipped it out of Jason’s hand, crunching it and dropping crumbs inside of Matt’s coat. He snuffled in the jacket, trying to vacuum up the dropped morsels.

“She must make good treats.” Matt said.

Jason nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced back over to Adore’s stall. “Hey, listen, you go on. I’ll meet you by the cheese stand. I, erm, I have to go do something.”

“Do what?”

“Nothing.” He snapped. “Just, something. I’ll be like five minutes.”

Matt watched, as Jason not so subtly took the long route around to Adore’s stall. Matt walked towards the cheese stand, speaking to Snowball under his breath. “Why Dada can’t just admit he likes you, is baffling to me.”

  ………………

  On Christmas day, Matt kissed Jason awake at four am, wished him a ‘Merry Christmas’, and left to go to work. Snowball was still asleep when he left, and Matt chose not to tease Jason about the fact that the dog had slept all night curled into the space behind where Jason’s knees bent.

The day was long, and cold, and hard, but in the early afternoon Matt was all done for the day, and excited to get back home. He picked up food to share with Jason, and stopped at the corner store for a couple of bottles of cheap red wine for them to get drunk off of.

He struggled with his keys, but quickly got the door unlocked, and slowly opened it with the expectation that Snowball would be waiting on the other side. However, the dog did not, as he usually did, greet him by chirping at his feet until Matt showered him with attention. A part of Matt was a little disappointed in the lack of fuss made at his arrival home, until he caught sight of his boyfriend asleep on the couch with their dog on his chest.

Matt closed the door and put down his bags.

His family was fucking cute.

Jason opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at Matt. “Hey,” he held out his hands, “baby, come snuggle me. It’s Christmas.”

Snowball snored on Jason’s chest. Matt had to bite his lip. The dog was wearing a knitted Christmas sweater.

He walked over and sat himself on the floor in front of Jason, leaning up on his knees to kiss him slowly. “I love you.” He said. “Merry Christmas, Jay, I love you.”

“I love you, Mattie.”

Matt rubbed his nose against his cheek. “Where did the dog get a sweater from?”

Jason kissed him again, putting a hand on his cheek and rubbing Matt’s ear. “Mmm, I love you, baby.”

“Love you. Where did the dog get a sweater?”

Snowball, awoke, climbing over Jason to get to Matt. He shook and the sweater slipped to the side. Jason fixed it.

“You love him.” Matt teased, picking up Snowball. “You bought him a sweater because you love him.”

“I don’t love him.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. I just was concerned he’d be cold.”

“You love him. You love our dog.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nope.”

“Oh, yes.” Matt grinned. Snowball tired to lick at Jason’s cheek from his place in Matt’s arms. “He loves you and you love him, and that’s okay.”

Jason said nothing, and Matt took that as a victory.

“I love you.” Matt said. He put Snowball back on Jason’s lap and the dog curled up. “I fucking love you.”

“Yeah, well,” Jason blushed, “I love you, too.”

“And our puppy?”

Jason tugged at the tiny knitted sweater on the dog, and smiled. “Maybe a little.”

[will-you-be-my-savior]

asks for 08/22/18

anonymous asked:

Um, hi. I think that one of my roommates ended up here yesterday. He seemed kind of insulted when we asked him what happened. Figured I should borrow this thing to explain some stuff. That guy, he kind of clings to the belief of being human for his own mental health's sake. He got bullied badly as a kid for that unnerving feeling his species causes in humans and whatever I am. It's not that he's dumb, it's just his mind is working so hard to protect itself from a breakdown. -Mayhem Tom

Tord: …

Tom: i told you he wasn’t stupid.

Matt: … is he okay?

(tord feels like an idiot. he judged him more harshly because they were counterparts but now he regrets that.)

anonymous asked:

He probably would be okay now if his parents weren't jerks that didn't believe in therapy, especially after they had him exorcised when he wasn't even possessed. Not his fault his species makes humans uneasy and the kids in his class broke his arm and leg. Just glad he had a friend in that class that wasn't bothered by that uncanny valley feel and protected him until he got over how his species normally doesn't fight. He'd be a lot worse if he hadn't. - Mayhem Tom

Tom: i had a feeling he’d been through a lot…

Tord: … shit…

Matt: who was the friend?

(tord seriously regrets the way he acted last night.)

anonymous asked:

Well, Edd was that friend, they've stuck by each other since primary school. No one really wanted to be friends with either of them. They're still best friends today, and I'm kind of surprised cause Edd's laziness from being half sloth demon gets pretty annoying for me and Matt most of the time. Then again, Tord's probably done his best to stick with the only people that never tried to hurt him or always called him a monster for something he can't help. -Mayhem Tom

Tom and Matt: *twitch*

Tord: i suppose that makes sense. his counterpart was probably my best friend throughout most of my time in school as well.

(tom and matt are on edge, but otherwise fine)

anonymous asked:

Are those two okay? They seem kind of like the Tord here after he's had a panic attack. - Mayhem Tom

Tom: … we’ll… be fine.

Matt: it’s no big deal.

dudawakmax asked:

OK I heard that people where in the edge and I come as fast as I could. NO TALKING ABOUT THE GREEN DEVIL IN FRONT OF MY BABY BUNS!!!!

Tom: it’s okay duda, we’re fi-

Matt: DUDA! *squeeze* we haven’t seen you in a while!

anonymous asked:

Okay? I'll avoid mentioning his name for now on if it's an issue. Don't know what happened to put people on edge talking about him, but I won't ask. - Mayhem Tom

Tord: probably for the best…

dudawakmax asked:

Five tests in this week, I'm just kinda busy :P And NOPE! NO GREEN DEVIL SHIT NEAR MY BABY BUNS.

Matt: i thought i was a bat not a bun?

Tom: really duda, we’ll be fine.

dudawakmax asked:

You can be a vampire bun!

Matt: *giggles*

anonymous asked:

Wait, your Matt's a vampire? Huh, the one here just makes potions and glamours. - Mayhem Tom

Tom: … yeah he is, but he can do that too.

Tord: he once made himself look like pat just to fuck with the people in the cells… we watched the footage back later… it was terrifying.

Matt: my favorite thing to make are the potions that make your skin glow!

(he means actually glow, like a glow stick)

anonymous asked:

He mostly just sells his glamours to other creatures and beings to hide as humans. He does make a lot of potions for beauty and stuff though. - Mayhem Tom

Matt: i don’t like potions like that… it’s not real.

Tom: most supernatural creatures here just stay away from humans rather then go through the trouble of getting a glamour, unless they can shapeshifter like me or just look human enough like matt.

Tord: human’s don’t generally get told about the supernatural here. and if they do find out it had better be because someone told them of else… *neck snapping motion*

dudawakmax asked:

Wow wow wait. You turned yourself into Patty cake?

Matt: with a glamour, yeah.

anonymous asked:

We don't kill any humans that find out, we first see what they're planning. If it's dangerous, they lose several days worth of memories when witches specializing in memory wipes show up and just, make them forget all about the fact that 'monsters' live among humans. If they're beneficial, they can keep their memories. A lot of the monsters that think Tord is human don't mind him knowing. He just wants to learn and stop the ones that hurt others. - Mayhem Tom

Tord: i think the main reason they don’t wipe memories here is because they tend to overestimate rather then underestimate those who find out… if they found out once what’s to stop them from finding out again?

Tom: if a person is perceptive they stay perceptive no matter how many times they have their memory wiped.

dudawakmax asked:

Cool! Can the glamour change your height too? Like, turning me into mister eyebrows?

Matt: a glamour is more an illusion then a transformation… so yes it does change how tall you LOOK.

anonymous asked:

We try to avoid killing cause it could draw unwanted attention. Especially since some of the more dangerous creatures like to move here and hunt instead of just buying cloned meat from Bing. - Mayhem Tom

Tom: we just have specific “people” who come and kill them just like any other human would. these “people” essentially don’t exist in modern society so any evidence the police found would just lead to dead ends.

Tord: when i’m in power we’re changing that…

Tom: well duh.

anonymous asked:

Take over the world? You guys are pretty different than everyone in my world. No world domination plans here. I think. Might need to triple check with the Tord here just to be safe. Though the worst anyone's found in his room is his gun stash and where he hides his hentai. - Mayhem Tom

Tord: if there was any other way my system would work i’d take it in a heart beat but they’re pretty reliant on having a single leadership with all the necessary resources available.

anonymous asked:

Well, good luck with that then. I better put this machine back before the others realize I have it and want to try talking to you too. - Mayhem Tom

Tord: thanks, i guess.

Matt: bye other tom!

spooncryptid asked:

Hewwo!!

Matt: come get your pets. * holds out his arms*

spooncryptid asked:

//happily jumps up into Matt’s arms// yay!!!

Matt begins to vigorously pet you.

spooncryptid asked:

//purrs and snuggles into Matt//

Matt is content.

spooncryptid asked:

Mmm, so what’s happening today?

Matt: remember mayhem from yesterday? Well his tom was talking to us for a bit. After that tom left to go pick up the parts he ordered and Tord went to go get us dinner.

spooncryptid asked:

There’s another Tommy too??

Matt: appears so. He was rather nice even.

spooncryptid asked:

Is there another Mattie??

Matt: yep! He said his Matt is magic but not a vampire.

spooncryptid asked:

That’s confusing, how am I supposed to keep track of two of everyone?

Matt: he just put mayhem in front of his name.

spooncryptid asked:

Well they certainly are a lot of mayhem!

Matt giggles. He liked that joke.

spooncryptid asked:

Dyou know what Tords getting for dinner?

Matt: nope. all he said was that it was some kind of Americanized German thing.

spooncryptid asked:

Huh, I wonder what it’ll bt

Matt: all the weird stuff he’s gotten for us has been good so far.

spooncryptid asked:

Tommy doesn’t like the food??

Matt: oh tom loves the food! He just doesn’t want to admit it!

spooncryptid asked:

Why not??

Matt: I dunno. He’s stubborn?

spooncryptid asked:

That doesn’t make sense

Matt: I think he thinks that if he admits that it’s good he’ll be losing or something.

spooncryptid asked:

Hed lose a game?? What would he lose???

Matt: I don’t know. Tom and Tord are always like that. Like they are always playing a game neither knows all the rules to.

spooncryptid asked:

That’s confusing, how do you win if there’s no rules?

Matt: i don’t know that either… they don’t make a whole lot of sense.

spooncryptid asked:

They sure don’t

Matt: nope.

Tord: *coming through the door* oh! hello cryptid.

spooncryptid asked:

Hi Tordie! What did ya get for dinner?

Tord: some strange Americanized form of schnitzel with a side of potatoes au gratin and green bean casserole.

Matt: sounds good.

spooncryptid asked:

Mm smells good

Tord: i’d hope so.

Matt: gimme!

Tom: *enters room* whatever…

spooncryptid asked:

Hi Tommy!!

Tom: hey cat freak.

(it is said with affection)

spooncryptid asked:

Are you ready for dinner?

Tom: i guess…

Tord: …

(tord is getting tired of this BS)

spooncryptid asked:

Cmon, can’t you smell how tasty it is!!

tom is glaring… tord is gonna break something.

spooncryptid asked:

What’s with you two??

tom doesn’t know who made the food and is being bitter. tord doesn’t wanna admit who made the food cause he’s a paranoid little shit.

spooncryptid asked:

Why does it matter who made the food????

tom hates eating things when he doesn’t know who’s touched it…

spooncryptid asked:

If Tord knows about that then what’s the big deal about telling him? Why is it better to cause tension??

he’s embarrassed…

(can you guess why)

spooncryptid asked:

I have an idea...

do you now?

spooncryptid asked:

That’s honestly kinda cute but st ill

tord is shocked. he thinks you might know. he’s questioning how that could even be possible.

spooncryptid asked:

Mmm, I’m hungry! Let’s eat!!

tord is enormously grateful. they all sit down to eat.

spooncryptid asked:

Food food!!

tom: puts a small plate with servings of the sides and two small pieces of breaded meat.

spooncryptid asked:

//purrs softly//

matt is okay now, all he hears is soft purring.

there seems to be a section that got deleted here. basically spooncryptid revealed that tord was the one making the food, tord got embarrassed, tom pulled him out of the room and started making out with him and matt had to cover his ears because he could hear them.

spooncryptid asked:

//is just a sleepy cat hat//

matt sits down against a wall and leans into it and tom and tord re-enter the room looking very disheveled.

spooncryptid asked:

//stops purring and jumps down//

Matt: aaawww.

Tord: what are you two doing?

spooncryptid asked:

Nothing.. //sits in the corner a bit nervous//

Tom: … *is very suspicious*

Tord: right…

spooncryptid asked:

... sorry....

Tom: what are you sorry for?

spooncryptid asked:

Uh... not thinking.. before I say stuff....

Tom: *sigh*

Tord: okay. *looks very pleased with himself*

spooncryptid asked:

Mmm.... I’ll try harder to not do that anymore....

Tord: it’s fine.

Tom: why are you acting like you just got fucked? i just kissed you.

Tord: because it was a nice kiss.

spooncryptid asked:

//curls up in the corner, again//

mat turned into a bat and curled up with you.

spooncryptid asked:

//cuddles Matt//

tom turns himself into a tiny monster and tord picks both of them and you up and carries you all to bedroom to all go to sleep together.

spooncryptid asked:

Mm, goodnight...

Tord: night…

Tom and Matt: *cooing*

[gospacegay]

LRTIHEW: Part Seventeen

The title stands for “Longest Rusame Thing I Have Ever Written”.

First Chapter: https://gospacegay.tumblr.com/post/165808913233/lrtihew-part-one

Previous Chapter: https://gospacegay.tumblr.com/post/166426662663/lrtihew-part-sixteen

There is swearing, fluff, eventual smut, insanity, and lord knows what else

Ivan listened to his guest's rambling, then stared into his tea cup. “I do not think I will be welcome at this event, Alfred. I decline your offer.” he replied honestly. “Oh come on. It's not like you'll be doing anything else, cat man.” the American goaded. Russian huffed, reminded of why he tried to kill Alfred so long ago. Suddenly the wrapped present came to mind.

A spark of light in this dark conversation, Ivan smiled for real. “What?” Alfred asked suspiciously. “Oh, nothing. Just that I have a surprise, America.” The Russian informed teasingly, looking smug. “You're not gonna blow something up are you?” the tanned nation asked bluntly. “No, nothing so... elaborate. I will show you, yes?” Ivan responded with glee. It was fun to watch people overreact to nothing.

After a few suspenseful moments, the purple eyed Slav finally got up to reveal the surprise. He returned from the coat closet with a newspaper wrapped box. Alfred eyed it critically as it was handed to him. “And this is... ?” he trailed off questioningly, slowly tilting the light package. “Happy early birthday, America. I wish upon you many more years of success.” Ivan explained, sincerely meaning it.

Alfred tore into the present with no warning, an excited child. The box was shredded in moments. The colorful tissue paper was revealed beneath, pausing his frenzy. America gingerly removed a black and blue sweater, the texture plush. “It's so soft! Where did you buy it?” he asked, pulling it over his head. It was slightly baggy, but a good fit.

“I'm offended. I made that personally.” Ivan scoffed, not really upset. “Cool... and a dagger?” Alfred wondered, picking up a sheathed knife. “Oh. Yes. It is an excellent letter opener. I gutted a Nazi officer with it in 1944.” Ivan informed pleasantly. There was a pause, and he wondered if the historically gory weapon was in poor taste.

“Holy fuck that's so cool!” Alfred gushed, taking the perilously sharp weapon out. Examining the blade, the younger nation asked “Is there like, still Nazi blood on it?” Oh, Ivan's cold heart was alight at this moment, bursting with joy at being understood. Destroying lives was bad, but the adrenaline rush of combat felt amazing. Having a just cause increased the high. “No. It would have corroded the blade over time. I did take a picture though.” the Russian informed calmly. “I'll take the picture too... if that's chill with you. Make it a matching set, ya know?” Alfred replied, enamored with his new gifts.

Ivan was pleased and impressed. He never even thought of making the historical pieces a matching pair. He slipped the dagger in hesitantly before. If Alfred was freaked out by it, Ivan would pass it off as a sick joke. A typical Braginsky maneuver as expected by most non-trusting nations. Instead the war mongering American was loving the gesture, completely unafraid.

Maybe. Maybe they could be friends. They did have a few hobbies in common. The internet had mentioned sharing hobbies was very important. “I... will visit on the day of your birthday party, Alfred. For a short time.” Ivan answered cautiously, wringing his hands. “Cool man. I look forward to it.” the American replied. “I will not be partying with the others.” Ivan insisted stiffly. “Got it. Zero tolerance for fun. The mighty Russian Federation has no need for this fun, for it is too inefficient. Beep boop.” Alfred teased in a robotic voice, a twinkle in his baby blue eyes.

Ivan frowned, but said nothing. With no audience, there was no point to insulting his guest. “So... what ya doing?” Alfred prompted, childish like always. “I was working. I was... talking with Koshka about my evening plans.” Ivan replied, uncomfortable without their usual banter.

Alfred whistled, brows raised, before saying “You talk to your dead cat for company? Holy shit... Wow. Okay. You. Me, we're doing something today. Something that living normal people do.” “Like what?” Ivan grumbled, already annoyed. “I don't know. Stuff. What do you do normally?” Alfred asked, resuming his quest to kill every cookie on the platter.

Ivan had to think about that. It had been a while since he last went out. “I work, and train with weights, and... fish a few times a year. I go bear hunting in the fall. I go to the shooting range to test new gun models for my boss. I travel a lot, but that's for work. I read, I knit... I... that is it.” he summarized. Ivan also painted, but he viewed the hobby as a feminine one. It would only be fuel for ridicule from others. He also drank to numb intense loneliness, but it was more of a crutch than a habit. Not that he felt alone. That would mean having weaknesses.

“So adventurous. So I saw a flyer for this festival. I think we'll go.” Alfred said, sarcasm fading to genuine interest. After a bit, his foot was fully operational again. After an hour's drive to Pushkino, a small city north of Moscow, they arrived at a carnival. The sun, as well as sunflowers and horses, was a prevailing theme. “A summer solstice fair.” Ivan breathed, feeling a tingle of excitement. “I almost forgot I had those.” he said quietly. There was authentic Russian cooking abound at food stalls. There was small games and a petting zoo. As Alfred dragged Ivan to everything in sight, he made cheers and crows of delight. Russia was slowly acclimating to the atmosphere of joy radiating from the young Russians around him.

After feeding some goats at the petting zoo area, America was talking a mile a minute. “... and Mattie was totally pissed, but whatever. He's not mad at me now that –” The honey blonde tripped on a small rock, landing face first in a mud puddle. The classic comedy of the situation was undeniable. A ripple of laughter escaped Ivan, followed by another. When Alfred squinted in anger with a mud streaked expression, the Russian roared jubilantly, clutching his gut.

“You're a dick.” Alfred pouted, mourning his white cotton shirt. Catching his breath, Ivan pulled the muddied blonde off the ground. “Thank you, America. I am most entertained.” he said with a smirk. All too soon, both their cell phones were going off. America's boss sounded livid, faded Russian accent audible from a few feet away.

“Yes, sir. I know, I know... I'll go try again.” Alfred whined, rolling his eyes. He hung up, Ivan also finished attending to work texts. His superiors had no clue he was blowing off work for a summer fair. “Fuck. I have to go renegotiate with China again.” the younger nation sighed, running a hand through golden locks. Ivan imagined Kozlov scolding America like a mother hen over the phone. The scene was a funny one.

“You said they were not going well.” Ivan prompted conversation while buying a candied apple. “No. I want to start paying him back but the interest rate is like a million percent. There's no point if the interest is higher than the minimum payment.” Alfred lamented, walking along. The Russian nodded, following beside him. Licking his candy apple in thought, Ivan came to a conclusion.

“I will come with you.” Ivan stated authoritatively. “But... why?” Alfred wondered, baffled. Ivan remained silent, lighting another cigarette. “Um... well. Okay I guess. I'll let the boss know, then we can head off.” the American continued, dialing a number. Ivan ended the process before it could be finished. “No. No one will know.” the Russian ordered, staring Alfred in the eyes. There was a tense moment, then Alfred shrugged. “Fine. Be weird.” he scoffed.

[will-you-be-my-savior]

asks for 08/20/18

tord has a surprise for you spoon.

anonymous asked:

Hi Tom!

tom finds the fact that he is the first one you choose to talk to funny as he can’t even give you a response at the moment.

(24/40?)

tom would love it if you could ask questions. he really wants to have thumbs again.

anonymous asked:

Hopefully, Tom can get his thumbs back soon. I know I'd go nuts without thumbs of my own. -Glitchy Anon

Tom: *whine*

Tord: if i could make it go faster for you i would.

Tom: *huff*

(25/40?)

anonymous asked:

At least there's more for Tord and Matt to cuddle with while you're like this. Is Tom like a giant heater in this form? -Glitchy anon

Tord: … yes and no… he’s just as warm as he was before, with the slight added bonus if a thin layer of fur. but… he doesn’t even fit on the bed like this and so far he’s refused to let us try matt’s idea of sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor with him… none of us have gotten the best sleep these past few days.

(26/40?)

anonymous asked:

can i pet him (*´∇｀*) -shy anon

tom examines you, especially your hands. he finds them clean enough to touch. you are allowed to pet him though he’d advise you to avoid his limbs and mouth as they are deceptively sharp.

(27/40?)

anonymous asked:

Why not make a giant nest of pillows and blankets? Those can be so comfortable sometimes and Tom can keep you warm. - Glitchy Anon

Tord: and that had been my suggestion. which he shot down as well. don’t know why.

(28/40?)

anonymous asked:

Wow, a nest of pillows and blankets would have been fun. What about a pillow fort with an open top? Those are really fun and comfortable! - Glitchy Anon

tom glares at you. if he could talk he’d be telling you not to give them any ideas.

(29/40?)

anonymous asked:

What's wrong with pillow forts? They let you kind of let loose the inner child and have fun. Maybe you guys could at least take naps in one and set up some books or games for when the three of you just want to block out the rest of the world? - Glitchy anon

tom never found the idea unappealing. he’d ask you to stop if he could.

(30/40?)

spooncryptid asked:

Hewwo! I’m back!!

Tord: good! now close your eyes!

(31/40?)

spooncryptid asked:

Oh?? Ok! //puts paws over eyes//

tord is placing something around your neck. you’ll be very happy when you open your eyes.

(32/40?)

spooncryptid asked:

What is it? Can I open my eyes now??

Tord: yep. *is holding one of matt’s mirrors*

(33/40?)

spooncryptid asked:

//opens eyes//

tord shows you the mirror.

(34/40?)

~~~

endragoneel asked:

oh! hey tom! hey y’all! how’d the picnic go?

Tom: *chirp*

Tord: it was nice.

(35/40?)

endragoneel asked:

awesome~ ! whatcha doin now? :D

Tord: paperwork mostly.

Tom: …

(36/40?)

spooncryptid asked:

Oh? Oh! Ooh!!!

Tord: so… what do you think.

(if you’re curious that was a pic of my kitten. why the quality was so bad)

(37/40?)

anonymous asked:

Glad you guys had a fun time on your picnic. -Glitchy anon

tom is twitching expectantly. two more asks.

(38/40?)

anonymous asked:

Someone's excited.

if tom could talk he would say “no duh!”

(39/40?)

you- YOURE SO SOFT ヾ(@^▽^@)ノ - shy anon

tom appriciates the compliment and the ask.

*poof*

and you’re petting his head…

…

and he’s gone…

(40/40) (M!A 1 end)

endragoneel asked:

you okay tom?

Tom: FUCK YES I AM! I HAVE THUMBS!

spooncryptid asked:

It’s pretty!

Tord: … is that all you’re gonna say?

anonymous asked:

lmao that was fun while it lasted ~

Tom: SHUT UP I HATE YOU!

spooncryptid asked:

Im a cat!!! Im a cat I’m a cat!! //runs and jumps around the room happily//

Tord: and there’s the reaction i expected!

endragoneel asked:

NICE!!

Tom: YESSSS!

anonymous asked:

lmao what if i m!a-ed tord into a cat for uh... 5 asks. only five lmao just to play with spoon

… he’ll hate you as much as tom does… it is done.

spooncryptid asked:

//stops before running over and rubbing face into Tords leg// thank you! Thank you!!!

tord is chuckling.

*poof*

….

the only way to describe the sound he just made is a yowl.

(1/5)

endragoneel asked:

i image it’s really rad to be able to talk again~ (although i kinda wish i had that ability to shapeshift too~...)

Tom: yes it is!

anonymous asked:

OH NO another one (＞人＜;) do m!a’s hurt? are you okay tord? - shy anon

… do you expect him to answer as a cat? if he could he’d tell you that no it does not hurt and that no he is not okay. tom is a shapeshifter! he’s used to this.

spooncryptid asked:

//runs and hides spooked by the transformation//

tord finds that unimpressive… yet oddly enticing.

(2/5)

spooncryptid asked:

//pokes head out// what happened?

Tord: *meow*

(Tord is very unhappy…)

(3/5)

spooncryptid asked:

//crawls back out up to Tord// cat?? //sniffs//

Tord bats at you. He does not like being sniffed.

(4/5)

endragoneel asked:

i- oh frick. uh... i don’t know much about cats.

Tom: why would you need to?

spooncryptid asked:

Mrow! //bats at Tord//

Tord did not appreciate that but the human part of his brain understands it.

*poof*

Tord is relieved.

(5/5) (M!A 2 end)

endragoneel asked:

*points to tord* well... i guess it over now so that’s good!

tom left the room already. he’s in his work room now.

spooncryptid asked:

//runs and hides again//

Tord: i don’t think it’s gonna happen again. you can come out.

anonymous asked:

How cute was Tord as a cat? I missed it. -Glitchy anon

this should answer your question.

~~~

spooncryptid asked:

//pokes head out// cat??

Tord: i was the cat… now i’m not… it is so strange to go from two legs to four…

spooncryptid asked:

//comes out// its a lot faster tho!!

Tord: maybe, if you know how to walk.

spooncryptid asked:

Mm, I’m hungry, dyou have food??

Tord: cat food or people food?

spooncryptid asked:

Food food!! Tasty food!!!

you’re a cat, he doesn’t know what you find tasty. just pick something.

spooncryptid asked:

Meat!! Hungry!

Tord: … how about some bacon. i’ll get some for myself too.

spooncryptid asked:

Ooo!! Yummy!!!

Tord: yes very. can you keep up now?

spooncryptid asked:

Yea!!

Tord: good! follow me.

(2 asks until you get to the cafeteria)

spooncryptid asked:

Bacon bacon!!

tord agrees!

anonymous asked:

lmao he’s bother by the legs? i’m curious.... m!a tord to having spider legs for hm... 3 asks! so like, spider centaur lmao. he can still talk.

… come back and ask this tomorrow. we don’t need to spook spoon a third time tonight.

spooncryptid asked:

Im have all my legs legs leg leg!!

Tord: i’m glad you like your gift.

???: what would you like red leader?

Tord: just my normal dinner, extra bacon.

???: sir is the bacon for the cat?

Tord: yes why?

???: cat’s can’t eat red meat sir.

Tord: that would matter if this were a normal cat but as it is anything but i’m fairly certain it can eat bacon.

???: … yes sir. *gives him his dinner with extra bacon*

spooncryptid asked:

Bacon!!

???: OH MY!!!

Tord: i told you it wasn’t a normal cat. now come on crypt, we’ll eat this in prince’s office.

spooncryptid asked:

I want the bacon!

Tord: and you’ll get it. in just a second. prince! you in there!?

Matt: *through door* yeah! come on in!

spooncryptid asked:

Bacon time!!!

Tord: yes bacon time.

Matt: you’re sharing bacon!? That’s a new one!

spooncryptid asked:

Mattie!! I have all my legs!!! I'm a cat!!!!

Matt: yes you do! *picks you up and puts you on his lap* i’m happy for you. *pet*

Tord: *hands matt some bacon* i’m just glad it worked.

Matt: *holds bacon out for you* yup.

spooncryptid asked:

//eats the bacon and purrs//

Tord: glad to see you’re enjoying yourself.

Matt: awwww! cute!

spooncryptid asked:

Mmm, pets, pets are good

matt is happy to oblige.

spooncryptid asked:

I miss getting pets

matt is saddened. he pets you with enthusiasm.

spooncryptid asked:

You give good pets Mattie

Matt: thank you! tom thinks so too.

Tord: *SNORT*

spooncryptid asked:

Dyou give Tord pets too?

Matt: …

Tord: what’s with that face?

Matt: *zips his lips*

spooncryptid asked:

Dyou get pets Matt?

Matt: i get brushies!

Tord: we go over him with a tooth brush some times. i don’t know why he enjoys it.

Matt: *happy bat noise*

spooncryptid asked:

A toothbrush? That's weird

it is actually a thing. it’s how they groom baby bats in captivity.

spooncryptid asked:

//rolls on back// do pau and pat get pets?

Matt: your tummy is so soft!

Tord: that would depend on if they want pets.

spooncryptid asked:

Mm, imma big chubby cat

Tord: if you keep eating like this you most certainly will be.

Matt: did you tell it about its surprise?

Tord: oh my god i forgot! and you remembered! good job matt!

Matt: *really happy bat noise*

spooncryptid asked:

Surprise?

Tord: take a closer look at your paws.

spooncryptid asked:

My paws?

Tord: just don’t rip up the curtains.

Matt: when i press on the toe beans out pop the…

spooncryptid asked:

CLAWS!!

Tord: you’re welcome.

Matt: i got you a scratching post. it’s in tord’s room.

spooncryptid asked:

I HAVE CLAWS I HAVE SCRATCHIES!!!

Tord: just pay attention to where you’re scratching and i won’t have to get claw caps.

[will-you-be-my-savior]

asks for 08/16/18

spooncryptid asked:

Good morning Tommy! How ya doing?

Tom: *mouthing why me?* what do you want cat freak?

spooncryptid asked:

I just wanted to hang out! Like friends!

Tom: *sigh* do whatever you want.

spooncryptid asked:

So what’re you doing?

Tom: prepping the suit for it’s first flight test.

spooncryptid asked:

Oo! That sounds fun!

Tom: it’s not fun, it’s dangerous… you probably wouldn’t know the difference though, would you?

spooncryptid asked:

I mean sometimes danger is fun, not always, but this sounds like a fun danger!

Tom: … i’m not doing any weapons testing yet. i’m just testing to see if it can get off the ground and hover.

spooncryptid asked:

Ye! Flying sounds fun!

Tom: not when there is a very real risk of explosions.

ew-unfinished-au asked:

What kind of flight mechanics are on the suit?

Tom: The back mounted rockets give lift through guide channels that run the thrust away from the body and down while the boots allow for directional control based on their angle and individual output.

spooncryptid asked:

Like fireworks!

Tom: maybe if fireworks were filled with blood and viscera.

spooncryptid asked:

Well I can’t handle big noises, you have fun with your fireworks! Imma go find Matt

Tom: good luck finding him. he’s doing an “exercise” with the new recruits. he’s basically playing hide and seek, except he’s always the one hiding.

anonymous asked:

Sounds like it might have been hard to set up. I hope the test goes well.

Tom: … me too.

spooncryptid asked:

Oh! I’m good at hiding! I’m not the best at finding though. maybe I’ll uhh.. darn, there’s no one else that tolerates my existence

Tom: just wonder around for a bit, the soldiers will eventu-

???: FOUND YOU!

Matt: good job! now report to your superior your thought process.

???: yes sir!

spooncryptid asked:

WOA!! Oh! Hi Mattie!

Matt: wha- oh! hi weird cat! *energetic waving*

Tom: prince! what have i said about hiding in my work room!?

Matt: not to…

Tom: and why not?

Matt: because it’s dangerous and i could hurt myself…

Tom: and?

Matt: and i forget to lock the door…

Tom: exactly.

spooncryptid asked:

That was loud! I got spooked! You spooked me!

Matt: OH! i’m sorry!

Tom: whatever… prince you need to leave. i don’t want you getting hurt if this thing blows.

spooncryptid asked:

It’s ok! Loud things happen, can I hang out with you?

Matt: i don’t see why not.

Tom: remember, don’t bring him into the restricted section.

Matt: got it!

Tom: repeat.

Matt: don’t bring him into the restricted section.

Tom: good.

spooncryptid asked:

Oo, what’s the restrict section?

Tom: matt?

Matt: the place visitors aren’t allowed to go!

Tom: good.

Matt: *happy bat noises*

spooncryptid asked:

Well I’m not a visitor, I live here too! In the trash cans!

Tom: are you signed up as a soldier? if so we need to take a look at ALL the personnel files. there is no way something like you would get through the vetting process.

Matt: but you don’t have Clarence?

Tom: clearance.

spooncryptid asked:

No! I don’t wanna go to the vet!

Tom: … only soldiers?

Matt: with the proper clearance may enter any restricted areas.

Tom: excellent.

Matt: *very happy bat noises*

spooncryptid asked:

If it means going to the vet I don’t wanna go to the restrict section!

you have just given tom a very powerful weapon. he won’t forget that. matt drags you away with him.

spooncryptid asked:

So what do you wanna do Mattie?

matt is confused. he’s just taking you with him to do his daily jobs. his next job is delivering medical supplies from storage to the med bay.

spooncryptid asked:

Oh! I probably can’t help with that

Matt: oh thats fine! i don’t need help.

(it will take about three more asks to get to storage then two more to get to the med bay)

spooncryptid asked:

What are we bringing over?

Matt: bandages, needles, drip bags, just normal medical stuff.

spooncryptid asked:

Mm, I don’t like needles

Matt: thats okay too, i don’t have to take them out of the crates or anything. i just have to move them.

anonymous asked:

How often does the med bay need supplies delivered?

Matt: not too often, they only really deal with accidents on base. and things like red’s injury maintenance.

spooncryptid asked:

What kinds of injuries happen on base?

Matt: not much. mostly just recruits making mistakes in training or burns and cuts from research and development.

spooncryptid asked:

Have you ever been injured on base?

Matt: … do paper cuts count?

spooncryptid asked:

I’d think so! Paper can be evil!

Matt: yes paper is evil and mean! here you go.

???:thank you, prince sir. would you like your daily drink?

Matt: i think i’ll wait until dinner today.

???: of course sir.

spooncryptid asked:

Ooh, are you a prince?

Matt: *wistful sigh* i wish, but no, that’s just my code name around base.

spooncryptid asked:

When Tordie takes over the world is he gonna make you a real prince?

Matt: that would be lovely. *wistful smile*

spooncryptid asked:

Where would you want to be prince of?

Matt: red said it would all be one place when he was finished… so there.

spooncryptid asked:

Ooo, prince of the whole world

Matt: that sounds so luxurious! *happy bat noises*

spooncryptid asked:

You could do anything you wanted!

Matt: yeah!

spooncryptid asked:

What would you wanna do if you were a prince?

matt is content. he just shrugs.

spooncryptid asked:

I’d turn into a normal cat again

Matt: why would you need to be a prince for that?

spooncryptid asked:

Well I’d have to be able to find the person who can turn me back, and I can’t do that right now, if I was a prince I probably could!

Matt: i guess i never thought of it that way.

spooncryptid asked:

Yea, also I’d be able to make her do it, cuz even if I could found her now she wouldn’t do it

Matt: her?

spooncryptid asked:

She’s the one that made me an ugly potato baby!

Matt: does she have a name?

spooncryptid asked:

I don’t think I ever learned her name, if I did I don’t remember it

Matt: that’s too bad. maybe we could have helped you find her.

spooncryptid asked:

Really? You’d do that?

Matt: i don’t see why we wouldn’t!

spooncryptid asked:

I mean you and Tommy are the only ones who don’t completely hate me.. I mean, I don’t understand why even you’d go out of your way to help me

Matt: red says it shouldn’t matter what our personal opinions are we should always help if we can.

spooncryptid asked:

Oh.. I mean, I still feel like I’d be an exception to that rule, I haven’t been the best to people since I’ve been here

Matt: you could always ask him yourself. he’s in his office if you wanna.

spooncryptid asked:

He really doesn’t like me though, what if I get yelled at?

Matt: … so long as you just got to the point and asked he’d be pretty calm.

spooncryptid asked:

I dunno..

Matt: i mean you don’t have to. i just think it would make you feel a little better.

spooncryptid asked:

He’s kind of scary

Matt: why? what about him scared you?

spooncryptid asked:

Death threats and insults, I’m usually fine with it but talking about Her makes me feel things more

Matt: well… i’m almost done here, do you want me to come with you?

spooncryptid asked:

Mm, yea, that would help

Matt: alright! lets go!

spooncryptid asked:

Ok!

matt picks you up and rushes off to tord’s office.

spooncryptid asked:

Oh, am picked up! That’s.. it’s ok?

matt got a bit over excited… he put you down outside tord’s door.

spooncryptid asked:

Mmm, ok, we can do this

Matt: yeah.

Tord: *through the door* prince? you can come in.

spooncryptid asked:

//hides a bit behind Matt//

Matt: *shifts into a bat and flutters into the room clinging to tord’s back*

Tord: … well alright then… oh! what do you need?

spooncryptid asked:

//cough// uh, hey there.. Tord, good to see you

Tord: … did you need something?

Matt: *squeak*

spooncryptid asked:

I was just, uhh, I mean.. I-I was wondering if um... //nervous shaking// y-you uhm.....

Tord: *whispering to matt* does it have a point that it will be getting to.

Matt: *affirmative coo*

spooncryptid asked:

I-I’m uhh..... I-I don’t wanna be an ugly potato baby anymore.. um... I-I wasn’t before.. so, uh....

tord is waiting.

spooncryptid asked:

Th-there was, uhh.. I was- I can’t... //nervous silence// I-I’ll just go! sorry!

Matt: *SCREECH*

Tord: just calm down. really what do you need?

spooncryptid asked:

It’s nothing! I’m just- uh, I need to go find Pat and see if he’ll set me on fire again, right now, at this moment

matt screeches again as tord presses a button that closes and locks the door before raising an eyebrow.

spooncryptid asked:

Nevermind, I can die here, that’s fine too

okay stop. your doing the opposite of what Matt told you to do. what’s goin’ on here?

spooncryptid asked:

Tord spooky, emotions hard

Tord: that i understood. keep going.

spooncryptid asked:

I.. I-I just came in here to say that I can’t give you any candy today cuz my wittle paws hurt, that’s it! I’m just a bit more useless than normally!

Matt: *HISSSS*

Tord: i don’t like being lied to… i can tell you’re nervous but this is getting ridiculous.

spooncryptid asked:

If you let me out I’ll just go get run over by a car and stop wasting your time

Tord: that would upset matt. so no.

spooncryptid asked:

I just... //tears up// I-I don’t wanna do this!

Tord: … to… fucking… bad…

spooncryptid asked:

I’m fine! I don’t need it! I’m happy! //tries and fails at blinking back tears//

Tord: *glares*

spooncryptid asked:

I-It doesn’t matter!! It’s nothing! P-Please just let me go

Tord continues to glare at you as he grips the pen he’d been holding so tight it cracks down the middle and finally snaps in half… it was metal… in his flesh hand..

spooncryptid asked:

//flinches at the pen breaking// p-please it doesn’t even matter... y-you’d think it’s stupid

Tord: you have… one… last… chance.

anonymous asked:

Are you seriously playing the pity card after what you did dude?

he knows there will be consequences if he goes to far… so hush.

spooncryptid asked:

//chokes back sobs// I-I was a n-normal cat a-and I just w-wanted to be normal again!

Tord: *blinks* oh… is that all?

Matt: *affirmative nuzzle*

spooncryptid asked:

//ugly cries on the floor//

Tord: oh… oh my…

Matt: *worried squeaks*

Tord: …

spooncryptid asked:

//sniffling// C-can I go find a c-cliff to jump off of now?

Tord: no. matty batty would you be a sweetheart and go find somethings for me?

Matt: *affirmative flutter*

Tord: thank you. i need my necronomicon, tommy’s magic book and a first aid kit please, i seem to have metal and ink embedded in my palm. *unlocks and opens door for matt and closes it quickly*

spooncryptid asked:

Wh-what? What’re you gonna do?

Tord: look into if there is a magical fix for your problem. i haven’t tried to do magic in years but it’s worth a look.

spooncryptid asked:

Y-you’re gonna help me? W-why would you care?

Tord: someone should always be able to ask for help. and so long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else they should always receive it.

to that anon i told to hush…

spoon was giving me an opportunity to demonstrate something very difficult yet very important. an aspect of tord’s character that i had yet to really show and i wanted to capitalize on that. i apologize if i came off as rude or as if i was picking a side.

spooncryptid asked:

B-but... I thought you hated me?

Tord: what i feel towards you should not impact how you are treated.

spooncryptid asked:

That doesn’t make sense...

Tord: how so? you are a sentient being. you deserve everything any other sentient being receives.

spooncryptid asked:

I’ve hurt you and others, why would I still deserve help?

Tord: because, being an ass doesn’t make you any less then anyone else.

Matt: *squeak*

Tord: ah thank you. you can set that stuff on the desk. we can get started once I’ve dealt with my hand.

spooncryptid asked:

But wouldn’t you try to stop people who hurt you so they don’t do it again?

Tord: wounds mend. sometimes they get ripped open, but that doesn’t make a new wound, just makes it take a little longer to finally scar.

spooncryptid asked:

But what about hurting other people? You don’t know if I’ll still hurt people after this

Tord: you’ll be a cat. a cat with no claws. what are you gonna do?

spooncryptid asked:

I could still bite people!

tord finds it funny that you think that would scare him.

spooncryptid asked:

I mean, what if I got rabies or something and bit someone?

Tord: then you would be dying too…

spooncryptid asked:

I’d still be hurting someone!

Tord: okay. shut up. if i went by your logic i’d want most of the world dead. i don’t by the way.

spooncryptid asked:

... I don’t deserve help..

Tord: are you alive?

spooncryptid asked:

I guess??

Tord: then you deserve help.

endragoneel asked:

(is it okay to jump to tom?) hey tom! how’s your work going! it seems really rad!!! you e been working hard! have some tea-!

Tom: … uh… good… thank you?

(just so long as you don’t just randomly leave a conversation it’s fine)

endragoneel asked:

sorry for randomly popping up like that- i’m just excited to see your work! it looks awesome!

tom is flattered.

endragoneel asked:

you meantioned earlier you were gonna test it? :O!

Tom: yeah i just finished the first flight test. i’m about to start making adjustments.

endragoneel asked:

sounds exciting!! good luck with it!

you confuse tom at the same time as you flatter him. he likes you but thinks you’re a lot to handle.

endragoneel asked:

oh- sorry i try not to be overwhelming, but sometimes i can’t control it— can i watch the test? i’ll stand over there

tom doesn’t know where you’re gesturing to but it doesn’t really matter as he’s almost do-

tom exploded.

endragoneel asked:

no-! ah... is he okay? he can come back if he’s dead if not, right? SHOULD I GO GET EVERYONE?!

you act like they didn’t hear. yes he’ll be fine, he just needs to grow his legs back.

endragoneel asked:

i cant really help with that, can i... what should i do then?

not stand in any door ways… tord isn’t gonna stop so you can get out of the way.

endragoneel asked:

yeah... maybe i could fix the coffee maker if there’s nothing else? i could probably do that

as the only ones who drinks coffee tord and pau would appreciate that.

endragoneel asked:

it makes tea and hot chocolate too-! let me see— ah! it overheated. i wouldn’t worry tho, there’s plenty of parts around i could use (if i have permission?)

you’d have to ask tom, who’s unconscious… and bleeding out…

he’s lucky only the boots were out or tord would see.

spooncryptid asked:

WHAT WAS THAT SOUND IS THE WORLD ENDING?????

tord did not appreciate having that screamed in his ear. the moment he gets to the lab he’s dropping you.

anonymous asked:

oh no... i’ve come at a bad time >~<; -shy anon

not really… tom’s gonna fine in like half an hour.

(don’t be shy shy anon you are welcome here)

spooncryptid asked:

I have no idea why he was carrying me but ok

he wasn’t gonna leave you alone in his office.

spooncryptid asked:

That’s fair

you have been dropped rather abruptly. tord can’t hold you and open the door.

spooncryptid asked:

Ouch

if tom weren’t bleeding out tord might have cared.

spooncryptid asked:

Sounds fake but ok

i said might.

endragoneel asked:

oh, well luckily i didn’t much extra parts, i asked another soldier, they said yes! do, good news is that machines fixed! (i got some tea, your chamomile is excellent) bad news is, well... *sips tea* you know

tord does not appreciate your humor. he’s glaring.

endragoneel asked:

sorry tord, i don’t mean to be insensitive, i’m still new... how about i find out what else i can do to put myself to good use. Pat, what else can i do?

pat: *surprised* you noticed me? most people don’t. i’m sorry what was the question?

endragoneel asked:

what can i do to help? i just got here and tord already doesn’t like me... but i did fix the coffee machine!

pat: pau will be glad to hear that you fixed it. to help? could you go grab us a meal from the cafeteria, a big one, tom is going to be quite famished when he wakes up.

dudawakmax asked:

Ha ha... this is a bad time to come back.

tom will be happy to see you when he wakes up though and tord has relaxed quite a bit. matt wants a hug.

dudawakmax asked:

*hugs Matt* It’s gonna be fine buddy, Tom is strong.

Matt: duda!

Tord: hello again. we know but it still gets to us at times to see him like this.

Tom: *groan*

endragoneel asked:

sure! i’ll go see what i can find-

Pat: protein is best.

dudawakmax asked:

Funny how you guys used to hate me. Author-Chan sends kisses, she hopes Tom get better soon.(I wish I could use magic or something to help Tom, but I doubt the mod would let me)

Tord: we never hated you, we just distrusted you. you didn’t make the best first impression.

Matt: hi author-chan!

tom: … ow.

(did no one read the rules post! i actually MADE A RULES POST! its in the important info.)

endragoneel asked:

alright! i guess i’ll just ask if all else fails-

yes.

endragoneel asked:

i’m back- how’s everyone? here’s the food! *hands tord two trays* also, someone gave me this to give to matt

Matt: i’m not supposed to take food from strangers.

Tord: it’s okay blue can eat it, right blue.

Tom: fine. i need to regain mass anyway.

endragoneel asked:

this isn’t from me, a random person told me to give to you, matt... it’s packaged!

Tord: even more reason for the immortal one to be the one to have it instead.

Tom: most myths about vampires are just that but some are true.

Matt: i need to be careful not to eat too much garlic and to avoid certain types of mineral water.

endragoneel asked:

i don’t know what it is! but please be careful! how’re y’all holding up?

Tom: better, my legs have grown back, i just need to regain some muscle mass before i can walk again.

Tord: i’m okay too, just needed to calm down. sorry about the glaring and all, i was a bit… tense.

Matt: i’m hungry! i’m gonna go to the med bay and pick up a snack.

endragoneel asked:

oh! i think that’s what the package was matt! also, i’m glad y’all are okay <3

Matt: still can’t. sorry.

Tord: who the fuck sends blood to someone?!

Tom: at least it will make it easier to transform the mass into a usable form.

spooncryptid asked:

I hit my head and passed out, what’s going on?

tord dropped you on your ass.

spooncryptid asked:

I’m just making an excuse for disappearing, I guess my tiny legs just couldn’t keep up with everyone else being fast

Tord: oh quit complaining tom didn’t even have legs.

Tom: no matt carried me here, you were the slow one.

spooncryptid asked:

Ah, everyone hates me, finally things feel normal again

Tord: hate is to strong a word for what we feel for you, more like mild annoyance.

Tom: pat hates you, we just don’t really like you. there is a difference.

endragoneel asked:

well we could forget about it... tom do you need anything?

Tom: at the moment? just time. and maybe another blanket, its kinda cold here without matt.

spooncryptid asked:

Oh! I can be warm! //starts attempting to climb onto Toms bed//

tom picks you up and drops you between himself and tord.

(they all sleep on one huge bed at this point. if they didn’t matt would have night terrors, tord wouldn’t sleep at all and tom would be to restless an paranoid to even close his eyes.)

spooncryptid asked:

Why am I being picked up so much today?

Tom: because you small and slow?

Tord: *yawns* yeah, pretty much.

spooncryptid asked:

Well yea, but I was also small and slow on other days and I wasn’t picked up at all

… have you not noticed them warming up to you at all? i get that it can be hard to tell with tom but you must be able to see it from matt and tord.

spooncryptid asked:

Yea but it’s just the change from not really being physically integrated with at all one day, and being picked up by all three of the bois the next

think back to the show… how often was tom LITERALLY THROWN INTO SOMETHING BY HIS FRIENDS… these boys are grade a assholes. they found you annoying yes but tom and tord used to find matt annoying. also, you fed tom and you showed weakness to tord. matt just likes picking things up. your actions over today and yesterday did this. you fit in just fine. (also tord wants to keep you as a pet when he figures out how to change you back to a normal cat, if you wanted to stay of course.)

endragoneel asked:

i have another blanket! here~ stay warm! how’re you feeling now?

Tom: admittedly better, thanks.

endragoneel asked:

how’re paul and pat?

they are a couple rooms over getting ready for bed. you can visit if you want.

anonymous asked:

aaah >~> i’m back... it seemed better at this time- shy anon

yep.

spooncryptid asked:

//cuddles Tom// am warm! Am useful!

Tom: very *yawn* useful

anonymous asked:

lmao can i m!ask tom to be stuck in a monster form (once he recovers of course uwu) for 10 asks? like one that’s pretty big but small enough to fit in the base

… technically yes, but… mod t is under a lot of stress right now and art is not their main focus so it would still be just written responses for a little while longer. also ten asks seem to pass really fast on this blog… you still wanna do this?

endragoneel asked:

if everyone’s sleeping i think i’ll call it quits for the night- wait matt is still there! i’ll go introduce myself then

matt is on his way back from the med bay after having a midnight snack.

endragoneel asked:

hey matt~ i’m ever! *puts hand out so he can shake it*

Matt: ever what? *shakes hand very confused*

endragoneel asked:

Ever is the name! short for Everey! it’s a bit confusing and there’s lots of puns haha - how’re you?

Matt: puns?

(you’ve made matt very nervous. tread carefully.)

endragoneel asked:

oh uh... don’t worry about it! how’s life on the base? i just got here and it seems really rad !

Matt: life is good! better… good!

dudawakmax asked:

Nope! No puns! Not here, not now

Matt: DUDA! *squeezes*

(this is how he will always greet you.)

endragoneel asked:

oh! a person appears! the famous duda! nice to meet you<3

Matt: yeah duda is the best! they made tom and tord feel better after they had a “red” day.

dudawakmax asked:

Hey! Its nice to meet you. (Love ft too ❤) *hoop Matt* heya matt! How are you feeling?

Matt: *blink* boop!

(matt has returned the boop. he is very happy.)

endragoneel asked:

they sound very nice! hope i can help like that someday... i don’t think tord likes me that much...

Matt: … i kinda hope you never have to. but your willingness to try is sweet.

anonymous asked:

lmao (guess lmao anon is mah name) sounds good! i expected text... if ten asks goes too fast how about TWENTY YEEHAW

alright, i’ll start tomorrow cause right now he’s asleep.

endragoneel asked:

i didn’t mean it that way... well anyway, what’s your favourite thing to do here?

Matt: it’s fun to put on different uniforms and exploring the base! if my make-up is good enough they don’t recognize me and i get to learn how to do something new. every one is really nice here.

anonymous asked:

lmao he’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up

not really. his monster form is more natural to him than his human form. but he will get kinda annoyed when he remembers in his pure monster form he doesn’t have thumbs.

anonymous asked:

oh no they’re asleep >~< -shy anon

tom and tord are asleep. matt pau and pat are still up for a bit longer.

dudawakmax asked:

Awn! This new person is so sweet! I like them!!

yes they are! duda meet ever, ever, meet duda.

endragoneel asked:

that sounds fun! can we try it? also, very nice to meet you duda !! : D

Matt: maybe in the morning, i’m gonna head to bed soon. i don’t want to have to sleep alone after red and blue wake up.

endragoneel asked:

i should head to bed too! g’night! sleep well!

Matt: sweet dreams!

dudawakmax asked:

Goodnight honey!! See ya tomorrow

Matt: night. *yawn*

spooncryptid asked:

//whispering// hi Mattie, I’m useful!

he literally just walked into the room, saw you there and shrugged before picking you up, again, taking your place on the bed and plopping you onto his chest. he was out like a light.