#see rabbit be rabbit. think of cat. cat behaves as rabbit. I like to joke that my cat is acting like a bunny to make up for

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

pictured: sequence of me literally achieving my greatest lifelong dream but in engage bc i can’t do it in real life yet

[telvess]

Record of Ragnarok: What kind of pet do they have?

I'm like Tesla 🤣

Jack

I once read that people who are broken or haven’t experienced much love as children tent to choose animals that are less popular and sometimes seen as bad omens, such as black cats or ravens. So I see that Jack has a rat as a pet. They are intelligent and very clean animals, with an unfairly given bad reputation, and I think that suits Jack very well.

Nicola Tesla

Hear me out, Tesla is the proud owner of a turtle. There's a joke going around turtle owners that every time the turtle does something - such as yawns or falls asleep - you take a photo or video of it and happily show it to everyone. This is Tesla. The entire science crew has a mailbox full of this kind of spam, and their all sigh whenever Tesla sends them a new video of his pet doing absolutely nothing.

Poseidon

I think he likes animals in general. He despises humans and most gods for not behaving as they should, but animals are themselves. They do what is expected of them, they are excellent at being themselves, if that makes sense. So Poseidon probably has a dog that he has trained very well. The dog listens to all commends and generally behaves very well.

Hades

It’s canon that Hades has a pet - cockatoo. These animals require a lot of attention from their owner, which makes sense because we all know how lonely Hades is. He is literally playing chess with it! The parrot probably knows some fancy words like „magnificent” or „mellifluous”, and a whole bunch of wine names that it randomly says. Adamas, by the way, puts some effort into educating the bird too and incidently teaches it how to swear.

Beelzebub

Given how little he cares and how little he CAN care, the only option he has is fish. He gives it a good tank, he remembers to feed it and that’s it. They just exist. Damn… how depressing…

Loki

Two options. First: SAND ANT FARM. He watches it from time to time, mocking the ants for poor direction choices or just messing up with them for funnies. Second option is ferret. Loki finds them both annoying and interesting. There’s no boredom with them.

Ares

Ares thinks highly about himself, after all he is a part of the most powerful pantheon and the son of Zeus. He believes that he deserves only the best, which mean that whatever animal he gets, it will be a pure breed. If he chooses a cat or dog, it will receives a golden pillow to sleep on, a silver food bowl, the fanciest toys, the best caretakers, and… „the best owner”.

Thor

Thor has a cat. Most of the time they simply exist in their spaces and don’t interact. But every now and then a cat comes to Thor and demands a scratch, which Thor gives without hesitation. Loki once overheard Thor talking to his pet in those rare moments. Surprisingly, he speaks in a very gentle and caring tone, almost like mother to her child.

Hajun

He probably has a tank full of dead fish. Never cleaned, never fed, never bothered.

Lu Bu

Lu Bu has a pussy. He had no intention of having a pet, so the cat had to choose him, and Lu Bu obligated. He gives it lots of scratches and plays with it. Lu Bu is unfazed by the claws. Hearing her meow when he isn’t close puts him in a fighting stance. Nobody hurts his cat girl.

Hermes

Budgies! The guy has a lot of responsibilities, he's probably the last to fall asleep and the first to wake up, but he still finds time for his melodious pets. They always get the best snacks and for some unknown reason they become very excited when Zeus is around.

Göll

She has hamster, as small and cute as she is. Göll tries very hard to provide it a happy life, which probably means she’s trying too hard. She asks all his sisters for advice, and knowing how many siblings she has, she probably ends up with very conflicting opinions.

Zerofuku

Definitely rabbit. They are both full of energy, do not pose a threat and just enjoy themselves on a clearing somewhere.

Buddha

He doesn't have a pet, but he occasionally looks after Zerofuku’s and Göll's pets. He complains that he doesn't have time and that he doesn't care, but in the end he has a great time with the rabbit and hamster.

Noah

I think he ends up with a pigeon. He just feeds it from time to time in the same place and slowly tames it. Before he knows it, the bird becomes a new part of his life. He tells it about his problems, about Luna, Jack, Mother Goose and Shakespeare. This pigeon has therapeutic properties.

Qin

Definitely a husky. I see just two idiots keep talking to each other and arguing over nothing. The more the emperor demands something, the louder the husky's tantrum will be.

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

The Taste of Freedom

" Mr Iger It's Time we can no longer keep them, and the public grows restless," his secretary said

The man stood up with a heavy sigh and walked towards a room where the toons were held, each of them in rooms, some under heavy medication to keep them complacent others had lost their fight years ago,

The human crept closer to the cage where the pair he was focused on were being held, Mickey hissing at him as he approached, the mouse had fought the longest but he was the first and as long as they had threatened his partner and friends he had behaved,

"Oh, don't be like that, your beloved public finally won," he snarled, the Mouse's eyes widening. " Your public domain now our copyright ran out,"

The mouse did not dare believe it his heart leaping, he did not dare feel the hope after it had been snatched in the 90s, they were free? The click of the door and they flinched back, he held Minnie close again snarling in warning, the human rolling his eyes

"Go on get, you've been given about 30 million to do whatever the hell it is you creatures want to do, and we will be paying you royalties as is required, your public domain now, can't illegally hold you here anymore. I fucking wish we could but the public has made it very very clear that we are on thin ice."

"Free?" He croaked, his voice sounding cracked from not being used, he had been a puppet for so long, not allowed to speak, he eyed the whips on the wall laced with dip,

"Yup free, get on outta here,"

He didn't make a move to force them out, but Mickey could see that the other was genuine because of the anger burning and the fact that the president hadn't grabbed anything to hit them, there was no joking with this, scooping Minnie up into his arms he darted for the door feeling her clutch him, she'd been weak for so long with the sedatives they forced into her to keep her calm and under control,

The man's eyes followed, but he did not move, Animators looking sympathetic as the pair ran past their offices, and out, he about cried as he saw a Toon he didn't think was still alive

His brother and another Toon, he hadn't seen in a hundred years

"Julius, Ozzie!" He croaked, stumbling not having even moved in months protecting Minnie, the Rabbit and Cat immediately by his side, helping to support them,

"We gotcha Mick, Min. Ortensia's waiting along with the kiddos, she's got a nice warm meal and everything." His brother assured,

Tears began streaming down the Mouse's face, especially as a cool night breeze hit his fur, this was a freedom he hadn't felt since Walt was alive when he would take him home to Lillian, he let himself be guided by his brothers to their car, for once feeling safe he allowed himself to slip to sleep,

When they arrived at the house, the mouse carefully stepped out of the car. He looked up at the Moon and Stars, which were so much more prevalent out where his brothers lived,

"I want to see the moon," came a tiny little voice barely above a whisper. The boys looked down at Minnie, whose eyes were finally open,

"Of course my dear," he murmured, shifting her so she could see it, tears pricking at his eyes as she smiled. It wasn't one of those Dazed and Confused forced ones

It was a smile he hadn't seen as well since Walt since they started drugging her to keep her under their control, it was her genuine smile,

"We are free aren't we?"

He held her tightly nodding tears falling and hitting her fur,

"Yes Minnie, we are" he was scared for his friends but he knew eventually they would be free as well and there was nothing they could do to them, eventually they would all be together,

Walking towards the house Ortensia came running out and embraced her brother-in-law, feeling the warmth her, from the open door smelling a fresh cooked meal, instead of the pellets they were usually fed

He walked through finally allowing hope to enter his heart again.

[ashesandhackles]

Reading Marauders Dynamics in SWM

By @thecat-isblogging-blog and myself

The fact that SWM happened after the werewolf prank lends an interesting colour to the dynamics we see in text.

We'd like to start with the two differing ways Remus responded to werewolf jokes. Number one:

Did you like question ten, Moony?' asked Sirius as they emerged into the Entrance Hall.

'Loved it, said Lupin briskly. 'Give five signs that identify the werewolf.Excellent question.'

'D'you think you managed to get all the signs?' said James in tones of mock concern.

'Think I did,' said Lupin seriously, as they joined the crowd thronging around the front doors eager to get out into the sunlit grounds. 'One: he's sitting on my chair. Two: he's wearing my clothes. Three: his name's Remus Lupin.'

Wormtail was the only one who didn't laugh.

To

I'm bored,' said Sirius. 'Wish it was full moon.'

'You might,' said Lupin darkly from behind his book. 'We've still got Transfiguration, if you're bored you could test me. Here ...' and he held out his book.

In the first instance, Remus feeds into the werewolf joke and laughs at his own dry joke - and in the second instance, he reacts slightly negatively.

We know from what Remus says in HBP that he is not averse to these jokes. He laughs when Harry says fiercely, "But you are normal - you've just got a problem!". Remus says in nostalgia-tinted affection, "Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my 'furry little problem' in company. Many people were under the impression I owned a badly behaved rabbit."

The difference, especially given the light of what happened in the werewolf prank (James saves Snape and by extension Remus, Sirius endangers him), is the presence of James. (Reference our meta here as to understand why he sees James and Sirius as his protectors in wolf form, which James unconsciously still fulfills here)

Remus feeds into the joke when James is around, and the moment James is off doing his own thing with the snitch, Sirius' own reference is met slightly passive aggressively. Remus is simultaneously telling Sirius his boundary is being crossed while redirecting his boredom somewhere else (hey, test me?).

[An important addition by @dragonlordette here: The dark "you might" response could be seen as Remus remembering the prank. The first joke is a joke among friends about his condition, the second one is reminder that Sirius still doesn't truly grasp how much danger he put Remus in during the prank. Hence "you might" - like, reminders that Sirius Doesn't Get It aren't appreciated the way other jokes are. It serves as a marker of how Remus might feel Sirius has burned him before - he is forgiven, and still loved, but it's not forgotten. Whereas the way he talks about James forever demonstrates that he clearly feels James never let him down.]

Cat goes further to describe Remus handing the book to Sirius as "a handout before the other person can respond to the initial negative response". (Remus and his hyper awareness of social situations is underused in fics!)

The third werewolf reference looks very different in the light of POA:

'How thick are you, Wormtail?' said James impatiently. 'You run round with a werewolf once a month--'

'Keep your voice down,' implored Lupin.

Yes, Remus is reacting to his secret, but given he just made the joke about himself being a werewolf ("Three, his name is Remus Lupin"), his primary concern feels like something else. He seems more sensitive about the Animagus secret - it is the same fact he actively hides from Dumbledore in POA, manifesting in one of the worst things he did: not informing Dumbledore of that secret when he still believed Sirius to be a mass murderer.

Here is how he describes it in POA:

"All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me. . . and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it.."

Moving on, it's also interesting that when Sirius declares he is bored, both Remus and James offer ways out.

Remus asks him to test him (which he rejects), while James offers going after Snape (which he accepts). This dynamic establishes Sirius as the instigator - he begins the werewolf joke ("did you like question ten, Moony?"), he is the one who is bored which both James and Remus try to address. However, when it comes to attacking Snape, after Sirius accepts, James takes the lead whereas Sirius falls back on a supporting role.

Peter also is exclusively attached to James through the scene - cheering him on, which James enjoys and doesn't challenge Sirius's disparaging, "Put that away, will you. Before Wormtail wets himself in excitement." (Peter turns pink, and James does put the snitch away with, "If it bothers you" xD)

Essentially, Sirius keeps pushing boundaries (begins werewolf joke, is bored, the prank), but it is James who sets them (joins in the first joke which makes Remus join in without any passive aggressiveness, offers the attack for boredom, and has his actions save his everyone from dire consequences in the prank).

James Potter is essentially the center of the Marauders, who is everyone's favourite. Sirius is James' favourite - which other two are aware of.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 10

First

Previous

Grocery store trips were weird. Tim had never taken them before, and now here he was buying food for the three of them regularly. He’d thought it would be harder, for some reason. But, no, it was just boring.

Tim rolled his eyes as Damian pointed to the nearest brightly colored object -- a bag of Not Cheetos… holy shit they were called Fritos this wasn’t allowed he has never been so vehemently against anything in his life.

He sighed as the baby yelled at him for the bag. This was his fault. He shouldn’t have gone in the chip aisle.

He looked down at the kid in front of him with an apologetic smile.

“No, kiddo. See, I would love to get that for you but, unfortunately, Mari said I can’t buy you any more random sweets. Blame her, not me.”

Damian was, apparently, too smart for his tricks because he banged his fist on the front of the cart and babbled at him angrily.

Tim sighed and leaned forward until his forehead touched the cool metal of the cart, thinking.

And then he got back up and handed the kid the bag of chips. Damian didn't know that it was food, Tim was pretty sure, and he had nothing against… ‘Fritos’ (outside of their name, obviously). So, why not? He could eat them. It was better than dealing with a tantrum in the middle of a store, at least.

Damian lit up and hugged the bag to his chest as if it was a soft stuffed animal and not a plastic bag filled with air and maybe a few chips.

Tim smiled faintly and pressed a kiss to the top of his head and then continued on his way, scanning over the list idly.

Oh. Marinette had added something. He squinted down at her messy scrawl, bringing it close to his face as if he could will the words to make sense.

And it worked. Ha. Take that everyone who didn’t believe in him.

Okay. So, she needed ‘pads’.

Sure. No problem.

He walked over to the aisle.

Hm. Okay. There might be a tiny little problem.

Why were there so many different brands? And sizes?

He stared around at them all helplessly. Sure, he had glimpsed the box a few times but he certainly hadn’t paid it much mind -- it wasn’t for him, why would he?! But now he was standing in an entire aisle full of products and there were way too many of them. And why did they all look the same? Shit!

He looked at Damian, who was biting the edge of the chip bag and giggling about the crinkling noises it made. But, once Tim turned his gaze on him, he looked up at him with wide eyes, attentive.

“Any chance you know what type Mari uses?” Tim joked softly.

Damian popped off the chip bag so he could babble at him. It was very helpful.

He considered, very briefly, just standing there in the aisle with the same helpless expression until some kind-hearted person took pity on him and he could avoid the embarrassment of calling Marinette at work to ask what types of pads she used… but, no, the idea of asking some random person for help was way worse. He had to just suck it up and do it.

He pulled out his phone and called Marinette. He was pretty sure it was lunchtime for her, anyways.

She picked up within a few rings, voice slightly muffled as she answered with a simple: “Problem?”

Tim didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or amused that her first thought when he called her was that something was wrong.

But he quickly alleviated her fears: “No, everything’s fine.”

He could hear the phone shift slightly as she assumedly went back to eating. “Right, then what is it?”

“Nothing bad, really…” Tim started awkwardly. His face reddened without his permission. “Just wanted to know what brand you used for, um, hygiene products.”

“... hyg --? Oh.” He heard her laugh at him and his face only reddened further. “What, the world's greatest detective couldn’t figure it out?”

“That’s my dad!” He mumbled a little huffily.

She snickered a little longer before finally saying: “I think the brand is called ‘Forever’ here.”

“See! You don’t even know!” He said even as he pulled down a box with the word written across it in elegant script.

“That’s because the name changed when --...” She seemed to remember she was at work -- or, at least, that there were other people around -- because she cut herself off suddenly before she could admit to being a dimension hopper in a world that likely wouldn’t even believe in the multiverse. “When… I switched brands! Yeah. Heh.”

(Tim swore he heard her mumble ‘technically not even a lie’ but he wasn’t quite sure.)

He started to put it in the basket but then he paused.

“There’s a lot of sizes.”

“Um… I think a four?”

“Yeah, no, they have letters here.”

“Fuck, right, hate that, um… D, I guess.”

He switched out the Cs he had gotten and smiled as Damian reached for him. He clearly wanted out of the cart -- Tim wondered, vaguely, if it was uncomfortable -- but that wasn’t going to happen so he decided to distract him:

“Want to talk to Mari, kiddo?”

The kid blinked up at him a few times before lighting up. “Mar-ree!”

He pressed the phone to Damian’s ear with one hand until the kid took it himself and then motioned for him to go ahead. “Takalam maeaha.”

“... marhaba?” Damian said, giving Tim a look that seemed to scream ‘you’re weird for making me talk into a box’.

Marinette must have said something back, because the kid’s eyes went wide. Damian looked around wildly for a few moments, clearly trying to figure out where Marinette was, before he realized that her voice was coming from the box. He gasped a little and pressed the phone against his ear even harder and started to ‘talk’ to her. It was a weird mix of Arabic and a few English syllables thrown together haphazardly, Tim was just glad he was learning.

Tim started on his way through the store again, sure he wasn’t going to get his phone back anytime soon.

He’d gotten all the necessities and they had money left in the weekly budget...

He headed to the kid’s aisle, head tipping from side to side as he considered what to get. Maybe a new book? Damian had taken a liking to them, though Tim was pretty sure that was more because he thought the English language sounded kind of funny rather than any real passion for stories.

He picked up a book about letters and looked down at Damian. He sounded annoyed now.

He looked at Tim with an annoyed expression and shook Tim’s poor phones a few times. “Mar-ree!”

Ah. She must have hung up because her break was over.

How was he supposed to explain how phones worked to a baby? Especially since he knew phones so intimately thanks to his time working on the model he was using.

He gently pulled the phone from the kid’s hands. “Mari’s at work. You can see her later.”

“Bu…” Damian pouted.

Damn it. How dare the kid be cute? Tim was about five seconds away from walking to Marinette’s job so the kid would smile again.

He hesitated before reaching behind himself and grabbing the first soft thing his hands landed on. He pulled it out and squinted at the stuffed cat. It was cute, he supposed, but he didn’t know why it was rainbow-colored.

Whatever.

He offered the plush to Damian and the kid seemed to instantly forget about the phone.

(And the chips. But the kid had put it in his mouth so it looked like Tim was buying that anyway.)

He pressed a kid to the top of his head and then continued on his way.

… and that was when he heard it:

Haha, someone got called a DILF.

… wait a minute… he was the only person with a kid around here…

His head whipped around so fast he would have gotten whiplash if he was old -- which he wasn’t -- to see two girls in their mid teens. And they were definitely looking at him. They even tried to hide behind the next aisle in order to avoid his gaze once they realized he had heard them.

Tim didn’t know what to do about this. Someone had actually called him...

He was 19! He couldn’t be that yet! How?! No!

And, sure, the logical part of him knew they were technically right. He was attractive (he hoped) and, when it came to the ‘dad’ thing… if Damian never got his memories back, then Tim would pretty much be the only dad that he had ever known. He would be a dad.

But, again, he was 19-years-old, he didn’t want to think about this.

So, to ward off the impending crisis, he looked around the aisle he was in wildly for some kind of ‘kid’ thing.

He found some marshmallow guns and grabbed two. Then he got some marshmallows because those weren’t included for some reason. Whatever.

He looked down at the basket, aware that he was now over budget, and eventually decided to put back the book. Who needs to learn?

(Besides, if Damian really wanted to just hear people talk, Tim could totally do that. He had so many random facts in his head thanks to random rabbit holes he had gone down while sleep-deprived, he could just rant about those if the kid wanted.)

So, he checked out, loaded up with all the bags and the baby, and started walking home.

… he was totally going to learn to drive. Even if Gotham streets were safer -- especially when he had a baby on him -- it was a pain to carry all the groceries even the few blocks to their apartment. Literally. The bags dug into his skin. He swore he could taste blood.

But he had an end goal in sight, so he went faster than usual that day.

He set up the guns, leaving Marinette’s on the kitchen table and then took a seat on the couch with Damian. They spent the few remaining hours playing games (Tim was pretty sure, he had absolutely no clue what Damian was saying but the kid seemed to have fun and that was all that mattered) and watching TV.

Tim heard his door click and looked up.

He quickly reached for the marshmallow gun and turned to point it at the door.

Damian watched him in silence, perfectly still as if he understood that this was something that they needed to be quiet for.

Usually, this kind of worried Tim. They always gave Damian to Kaalki and Tikki when they sparred, but Damian had always been… shockingly well-behaved? Not in the good way, either, he was far too still and quiet. Tim was starting to suspect that, at the very least, the kid remembered the first year of his life in the League. He hoped that the trauma would fade away with time. Kids forget things that they experienced as babies when they grew older, Tim himself couldn’t remember anything from before he was three, so hopefully this would be the same.

… but he really wanted to get Marinette with a marshmallow gun. So, he swallowed down the slight bit of anxiety rising in his chest and looked through the scope as Marinette finally managed to open the finicky door.

Damian’s eyes widened and he made a quiet ‘ah!’ sound.

Tim jumped at the sudden sound and pulled the trigger. The marshmallow gun made a fmpf sound as it fired off the shot.

The marshmallow bounced off of Marinette’s forehead harmlessly. Because, y’know, it was a marshmallow.

She blinked a few times and then knelt down to pick up the fallen marshmallow. She scanned it over a few times, eyes narrowed.

Tim hardly paid attention to her, looking over at Damian. The kid looked very confused, eyes darting between the gun and Marinette and the marshmallow on the floor repeatedly as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing.

And then he flopped back on the sofa with a quiet whimpering sound.

Marinette and Tim frowned at each other. He could see confusion and concern knitting her eyebrows together, meanwhile all he had was dread coiling itself in his gut. Because… what if Damian did remember his first year with the League? Or, even worse, what if he would slowly regain all his memories? No kid deserved that...

Tim felt something hit the side of his head, snapping him out of his daze. Oh. Marinette had grabbed the other gun and promptly gotten her revenge.

Damian didn’t see this, at least, just staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.

Marinette sat on Damian’s other side, gently picking him up and nuzzling her nose against his cheek. Then, she sat him back down between them, sidling close so the kid could curl into her side. Tim, after a few seconds, scooted closer as well.

“Want some marshmallows? They’re yummy,” she tried hesitantly.

She shot one into her hand and, after tearing it in half just in case, handed it to Damian.

The kid took a hesitant bite, still looking a little put out, but then he gasped a little. He happily chewed away at the marshmallow, the event easily wiped from his mind in favor of the yummy thing in his hand.

Tim sighed in relief, reaching behind himself for the marshmallow bag so they wouldn’t have to shoot any more. Just in case.

“Quick thinking,” he said, which was kind of a compliment if you squinted.

She smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s what I’m known for.”

There was a few seconds before she sighed just a little, gently combing her fingers through Damian’s hair. The kid reached out and gripped Tim’s shirt in his hand, surely getting it messed up thanks to the marshmallow on his hands but whatever, and tried to tug him closer. He obliged. Marinette rested her head on his shoulder absently.

“What would I do without you?” He mused.

“Probably starve on the streets,” she said bluntly.

He scoffed a little. “The minute this kid goes to sleep I’m going to shoot another marshmallow at you.”

“You can try. Only reason you even got me last time was ‘cause I didn’t know you were going to do it.”

“The element of surprise is a totally valid tactic!” He pretended to whine.

She grinned at him. “But it won’t work again.”

He wrapped an arm around her lazily. “We’ll see.”

~~~~~

Next

@unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

[into-the-linkverse]

Of rupees and Koroks

my first LU fanfiction! I am horrible at endings so...yeah. i definitely went off the rails from my original plan (ADHD my beloved) and I am SO SORRY in advance if any of the characters are OOC.

“Okay, and that would come to…200 rupees, Mr. Captain Hero Sir!” Ravio cheerfully stated, holding up the bottle of shimmering red potion for War to admire. The warrior actually scoffed upon hearing the intended price.

“Something wrong, War?” Legend asked, his back leaning against a rather large crate.

“No, no, it’s just…really cheap.” War pointed towards the potion. Both Legend and Ravio blinked blankly. Legend’s face soon turned into one of severe confusion, whereas Ravio’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“200 rupees? Cheap? Were you hit in the back of the head by a bulbin?!” Twilight almost shrieked from his side of the Barnhouse He stopped playing with the cows and quickly jogged over to Ravio’s makeshift shop.

“Back home, a red potion would cost around 10,000 rupees. Isn’t that the case here?” War stated eyebrow raised as Twilight began twitching at the mention of the rupee count. Ravio’s jaw practically dropped.

“My wallet can’t even hold that!”

“Hey, I heard screaming. Who’s dead?” The barn’s door creaked open to reveal Wind, accompanied by a sweating Sky and an unfazed Four.

“War said a red potion would cost 10,000 rupees in his world!” Legend blurted out, almost barking at the heroes. Four huffed for a second, then walked up to Ravio and snatched the red potion.

“Hey, 200 rupees, y’know!”

“This. Costs 20 rupees.” He pointed at the potion, as War soon broke down in a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny, pretty boy?” Legend folded his arms.

“You guys must be broke! 20 rupees? That can’t buy you shit!” He managed to get out before banging his fist against the hay covered ground.

“Hey, watch your language!” Sky shouted, moving to cover Wind’s pointy ears. “There are children here.” He lowered his voice as Wind swatted his hands away.

“Okay, okay, I’m trying to run a business here. Let’s go…2,000 rupees, Mr. Captain Hero Sir!” Ravio clasped his hands together, only to realize the item he was selling was nowhere on the table.

“Um…Mr. Smithy? My red potion?”

“Oh, sure.” Four passed the glittering potion back to the purple-haired hero, acting as if he wouldn’t be committing a crime if he didn’t hand it back.

“Here you go, Mr. Captain Hero Sir! Please come again!” Ravio smiled gleefully, having 2,000 rupees handed to him like it was nothing.

“Pfft- I guess War really is a rich snob.” Twilight sniggered, shaking hands with Legend in a mutual agreement.

“Hey, you take that back, farmers!” War shouted, fiddling with his glove as if preparing for a fight.

“War, you realize you’re saying that on a ranch?” A voice called from outside. The door was already opened (Wind forgot to close it) so it was easy to tell that the voice belonged to Time.

“Oh, hey, pops, wanna help us take on pretty boy?” Twilight greeted happily, only making Warriors more enraged.

“No, I’m quite fine. But thank you for the offer anyway. Hyrule asked me to collect you all. He’s having trouble with something. And for Nayru’s sake, behave yourselves.” Time explained to the group, trying not to bring up the fact that he almost locked them in the barn to keep them out of trouble.

“What do you mean “something”? I thought nothing happens on this ranch!” Wind protested, running his hands through his hair, obviously trying to make himself more presentable.

“I have no clue what the deal is myself. Wild and Hyrule are already investigating.”

“Those two? They were better hosts than us?” Warriors looked almost horrified at the idea of being upstaged by Wild of all people.

“Do you want to be cooped up in here all day?” Time asked, almost laughing at War’s sudden reaction.

“Come on, let’s get moving now!” Warriors announced, starting to direct (push) the other heroes out of the barnhouse.

Hyrule was ecstatic. He’d been picking up stray rocks for weeks in hopes to find the small beings called Koroks. Wild had told him all about the strange little creatures that hid under rocks and in trees, and Hyrule soon became intent to find one. At last, at the gates of Lon Lon ranch, Hyrule mindlessly picked up a rock and proceeded to shout in happiness.

“Wild! Wild! I found one!” He cried, perking the ears of the long-haired Hylian. Wild rushed over, practically throwing the Cucco he was holding. He jogged over, only to stop a few feet away from the brown-haired hero.

Hyrule’s eyes were alight with glee, his smile looked like an innocent rabbit’s. He tossed the rock aside, unfortunately landing on Wild’s foot, as he winced. He placed the rock to the side and crouched down to the Korok’s level.

“Yahaha, you’ve found me!” The Korok excitedly squealed, Wild rolling his eyes as he heard the line for the 400thtime. Hyrule nodded in response, too glad to speak and ruin the moment. Before he knew it, Hyrule was handed a small, foul seed. He looked confused for a second and looked up to Wild.

“Yeah…not that impressive, is it?” He sighed, snatching the seed from Hyrule, and adding to his collection. Hyrule blinked as he saw Wild open to pouch to see a mountain of the horrid smelling things. “Gotta get these back to Hestu sometime.” He casually stated, closing his pocket again.

“Buh-bye!” The Korok exclaimed, waving his small, rounded hand towards the two Hylians. Hyrule was not having this. He had spent two weeks searching for the little creatures, and when he does, he’s just supposed to say good-bye after minutes of meeting one? He reached out his arms and took the Korok up to his torso in one swift movement.

“I shall name him Peppers and he shall be mine!” Hyrule proclaimed loudly, much to Wild’s shock. He tried to wrangle the Korok out of Hyrule’s embrace, but the Korok spoke up.

“Actually, I’d love to be Mr. Hero’s friend!” It chirped, sinking into Hyrule’s green tunic. “Aw, see? He likes me!” Hyrule cuddled the Korok, adding a whiny tone to his words. Wild groaned, as he almost felt like Time, having to take care of someone like this.

“You’ll have to ask Time if we can keep it.” He sighed, poking the pointy nose of the leaf faced spirit. As if from nowhere, armored footsteps approached the two Hylians. “Keep what?” The firm voice spoke, making Wild jump for a moment.

“The Korok…?” Hyrule trailed off, still clutching the forest spirit. As the chain came into sight, some stood dumbstruck, whereas Wind’s eyes widened drastically. “Korok!?” The pirate pointed; mouth open wide as he bolted to Hyrule. “What in Din’s name is a Korok?” War groaned; his breath slightly hilted from jogging across the ranch.

“I’m not sure myself…but it definitely looks cute!” Time let slip a small remark of childish nature, a warm smile creeping up on his face. Legend soon ran up to his descendant and grabbed the Korok out of his hands.

“Where’s this little bugger from anyway?” He mumbled, turning the spirit face down to have a proper look at it. He furrowed his brow, then turned to Ravio, gestured to see if the rabbit hero had any clue about the creature. Ravio simply shrugged at him. “Hey! He isn’t some toy to be held like that!” Twilight shouted, scooping up the Korok from Legend’s hands. He held it carefully on his shoulder as one would a cat, as the Korok began playing with Twilight’s hair.

“I’m the best at dealing with animals here. I say we keep it,” Twilight nodded as the Korok’s hands started folding braids into his hair. “Peppers.” Hyrule quickly added, placing a hand on the little Korok’s back. “What’s this about p-peppers?!” Four almost leapt out of his skin after hearing “peppers”. Wild simply laughed and wrapped an arm around him.

“His name is Peppers!” Hyrule said once again, a smile dawning on his face. “Why peppers, though?” Four protested, his disdain for the food clear as day. Wind coughed a bit, trying to hold in a laugh. Sky gave him a light pat on the head and shook his head, mouthing “don’t”.

“Well, I think it’s a great name! Did…Did Wild pick it out?” Sky laughed wistfully, trying to discourage Wind from making fun of Four. “Nope, completely ‘Rule’s idea.” Wild answered, causing Four to instead eye Hyrule suspiciously. Legend folded his arms and let out a huff as Ravio giggled behind him. “Perhaps he’d be interested in renting?” Legend twisted around as Ravio flatly suggested.

“No one in their right mind would be interested in renting, Ravio.” He scoffed, turning back to face the rest of the chain. “I, personally, don’t want it. What if it steals our items and flees in the night?” War accused, pointing a finger towards the creature. A paranoid Warriors, Time couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, the Korok’s come from the Lost Woods. They’re the children of the Great Deku Tree, so I’d doubt they’d do that.” Wild explained, peaking the attention of Time. If the Korok’s were from the Lost Woods, he would have seen some by now, wouldn’t he? Or maybe they only showed up far after his era…

“Wait! You’ve met the Great Deku Tree too?!” Wind’s small figure jumped up, tugging on Wild’s tunic. Twilight eyed the older hero for a moment, he seemed…off. Korok still in arms, he strode up to Time and placed his free hand on his shoulder. “You alright, dad?” Time snapped out of his state of thought and quickly waved it off.

“I’m fine, just…glad that the Deku Tree still exists to them, I guess.” Time replied wistfully, his gaze trailing to the two blue-clad heroes, sharing their experiences with the ancient talking tree. “He was the…closest thing I had to a father.” His next comment caught Twili completely off guard. Does that mean he was related to a tree?

“Wait, your dad was a tree?! Are you joking?” Twilight exclaimed a bit too loudly, catching the attention of Four and Sky, who had been watching the unfolding chaos. Sky’s eyes widened immensely, full of curiosity as he quickly trotted over.

“Time’s father? A tree? My, that must be an interesting story!” Sky clasped his hands together in delight, eager to learn more about the mysterious Time.

“No, the Deku Tree was the closest thing to a father I ever had. I am not part tree.” Time had to hold back a snicker as he clarified that he was not of leafy descent. “I doubt that. Your hair is a very light shade of green.” Four pointed out, raising a hand to his chin in deep thought.

“I think that colour’s called yellow, dumbass.” Wind called from where he stood. Sky growled for a moment then proceeded to shout back: “Watch your language!”

For the rest of the evening, the chain shouted and argued, but settled on to keeping the Korok, naming it Peppers, much to Four’s disgust.

@bokettochild I hope you don't mind I borrowed Ravio's nicknames for everyone :)

[b4kubiddies]

how bakugou would interact with animals: scenarios

characters: bakugou, gender neutral s/o

warnings: mention of bugs

okay so i saw this drawing of bakugou w/ a cat and i can’t stop thinking abt it so i wrote this 

i have so many pets

hope everyone had a great day :))

bunnies: I think he’d be okay with bunnies, he’s probably used to them from koda’s being around the dorms (have y’all seen the pic of him chasing koda’s bunny-). he spent lots of time outdoors as a kid, he was bound to cross paths with one sometime in his life. He probably wouldn’t want to hold yours if you had one, but he wouldn’t mind it, maybe even stroking it on occasions. 

you sat on the couch watching a show, your soft plush rabbit seated in your lap. katsuki sat to your left, switching his gaze back and forth between the tv and your lap, starring your favorite ball of fluff down. the bunny ruffled in your lap, shaking slightly from the look it had received from your partner. you looked down at the rabbit, soothing it by rubbing behind it’s ears and offering it another piece of lettuce. as it settled down, you saw bakugou reach his hand up, gently flattening the ears of the bunny with his large hand, a soft scowl on his face as he did so. you smiled, your heart swooning at the thought of such a big tough guy being soft for a silly little rabbit. 

guinea pigs: Bakugou is scared of them omg. I’ve had quite a few guinea pigs (i only have 2 rn), and every grown man i’ve showed them to was lowkey scared. They do bite on occasion, if you tickle them or if they simply don’t want to be touched. 

taking your tiny pet out of the cage, you set it down in it’s playpen to get some time to safely run. you stepped over the barrier, seating yourself on the floor with some treats in your hand. your guinea pig loved carrots, especially fed straight from your hand. bakugou walked in to your bedroom, cocking a brow at the sight of you sitting on the floor near the edge of the pen before he sat on the edge of your bed. you got out when you noticed him, scooping the small animal back into your arms. you sat next to him, noticing his intense stare at your guinea pig. you gently set the guinea pig on his lap without warning. the look of pure panic on his face was priceless, a grown man terrified of such a small creature. “scared, suki?” you teasingly asked, your partner looking up with a look mixed with anger and fright. the guinea pig nibbled at bakugou’s lap, you laughed slightly as you picked it back up to rid him of his fear. just as you were headed towards the cage, the fuzzy little thing peed on your arm. bakugou laughed incessantly as you stood there in anger and disbelief,telling you that karma sure is a bitch!

cats: he probably hates cats, they’re adorable but so so spiteful. he also hates that the cat gets most of your attention. 

katsuki was lounged on the couch, watching you play with your cat on the floor near his feet. you’d had it since before you got together, and it was almost heart wrenching to hear he wasn’t fond of your furry friend. as you swung the feather ended stick back and fourth, the cat darted in the same direction. as you moved the feather closer towards bakugou, the cat lept and clung to his calf, digging and sinking it’s sharp claws into his skin. katsuki hissed angrily, mumbling something along the lines of “shitty cat” as the feline released its claws and resumed playing. god did he hate that cat, constantly jumping on him to get to you, nuzzling in between you both to separate your cuddle sessions. you often heard him fight with the cat, yelling at it to move while he was cooking, then yelling when it spitefully pushed something on the counter. telling it not to come in the bathroom while he showered, not to scratch at the couch. their relationship was comedical to you, but god did he wish you’d get rid of that shitty cat. 

dogs: he loves dogs, especially big ones. he thinks they’re badass, “manly” as kiri would say. he loves the loyalty and strength dogs tend to have, finding it similar to himself. he wouldn’t mind a medium sized dog, but he wouldn’t like small dogs. there can only be one angry yapping pomeranian in the house, and he’s already filled that spot. (i’m not a big dog fan, don’t like the way they constantly lick you)

starting off so small and tiny, a pretty puppy with a bow collar in a box, the dog you had surprised your partner with for his birthday had grown as big as a beast. bakugou loved the dog, loved teaching it tricks and commands, even loved cooking it a spare piece of meat when he prepared dinner. this was hands down the best present he’d ever received, he’d put years and years of pride into making the clumsy lil’ pup into a well behaved companion. the dog often sat or layed with him on the couch, never straying far from katsuki’s side. as you stood up from your seat next to bakugou to get a drink from the kitchen, the dog stole your spot in an attempt to be closer to it’s favorite owner. you huffed as you sat down on the other end of the couch, katsuki chuckling at your reaction as he stroked the head of the pup laying in his lap. 

turtles: i think he’d find them intriguing. not his favorite animal, but he doesn’t mind them. 

you went to take the turtle out of the tank, ready to clean and scrub it. bakugou watched as you struggled to catch it, the damn thing swimming away every time you went for it. he walked over as you groaned in frustration, ready to help you catch it. he had seen wild turtles before, caught them in the river growing up with his friends (and that damn nerd deku). he knew you had to be patient, wait until they settle down before sneaking up on them. he took your hands out of the tank, giving the turtle a chance to calm down. he gently reached his large  hands in, grabbing and catching the small thing in one go. you scowled at his success, him smirking back at you as a silent brag. he helped you clean the tank, you scrubbed the turtle’s shell to reduce the risk of shell rot. when you were finally done you thanked him, joking that if he hadn’t helped you would have had turtle soup for dinner.

lizards (this ones abt geckos): i think they also kinda interest him, there are some really pretty lizards and he likes the pattern of the one you have. he likes to watch them hunt their food, he thinks its badass. 

katsuki watched you scoop the lizard up, softly placing it near your neck. they always love the spot, it’s so nice and warm that they often fall asleep. he watched it crawl around you, running up your neck before settling in it’s favorite spot. you began to clean it’s tank, ridding it of all the bugs that had not been eaten. he watched as you changed it’s water and the matt on the bottom of the tank, the lizard sitting nice and pretty the whole time. it was as if it knew it had pretty colors, wanting to display them for everyone to see. you set it back down in the tank, watching it crawl into the safety of it’s dark hiding hut. bakugou made his way over to you, startling you as he slipped his arms around your waist. he peered over your shoulder as you dropped in some food, closely paying attention to the way it lunged at the crickets, unapologetically devouring them. you both cheered the lizard on, somehow fit was fun to watch the small thing eat.  

[little-writings]

MC adopts a puppy and Yoosung is jealous of the puppy

It’s been way too long since I’ve shown Yoosung any love, so I’d love to write this for you! Anyhow, I hope you have an amazing day and enjoy! 

———————————————————————————————————–

You’d stumbled upon the puppy on your way from work.

You nearly swerved off the road at the sight of a tawny, long-haired pup stranded in the middle of the street. You’d jumped out without a second thought and for all the honking horns and yelling drivers that’d stuck their heads out of their windows, you didn’t regret it.

The puppy was a spaniel mix, long, droopy ears and fur full of curls with paws a little too big for his body. He was a mess, and dirt mottled his coat where the ribs just barely protruded against your fingers.

And yet despite all he’d so clearly been through, his eyes were still so full of warmth. It’s tail – consisting only of a short nub – even began to wag at the sight of you. He had been through so much and clearly had so much more love to give in spite of it all.

You’d snuck him back in your car and brought him home, all the while the little puppy attempting to scamper across the front seats before settling in your lap. When you’d brought him inside he’d stumbled across the wooden flooring, gawking about like it was the grandest sight he’d ever seen.

This wide-eyed, excited gaze quickly vanished when you gave him a bath. Like most puppies, he wasn’t a fan, whining and making unsuccessful attempts to climb out. He was only happy once again when you lifted him up, dripping with water and curls already beginning to twirl once again.

Yoosung had come home when you’d wrapped up the puppy in a towel. He’d nearly passed by you in the bathroom when he’d jerked back at the sight of the small dog cradled in your arms. He adjusted his glasses confusedly, peering so forward he ended up tripping over the bath mats. He slid forward against the wooden floor, funnily over, ending up just overlooking the pup.

“Oh!” His eyes lit up. He tapped against the puppy’s snout playfully, laughing at one of his oversized paws attempting to return the gesture. “And who’s this?”

“I hope you don’t mind! I-I just found him and couldn’t leave him there in the street…”

“That’s how you found him? The poor thing!” Yoosung gasped. “How could anyone just toss you away~?”

A part of your heart always melted at the sight of Yoosung fawning over animals. Most days during work he’d send you pictures of all the pets being brought in – from cats, dogs, rabbits, and even birds. Each and every time Yoosung would barely be able to text in how overwhelmed he was by how each and every animal was insurmountably adorable. You often wondered how he managed to get through all his appointments.

“I was thinking we could keep him, at least until we come up with any other plan?” You tapped your feet against the tile floor in anticipation. “Please?”

Yoosung didn’t stand a chance.

Soon enough, the stray you’d taken in was given the name ‘Cinnamon’. And quickly, you and Cinnamon became inseparable. He followed you wherever you went, little legs awkwardly chasing after you and trying to climb into your lap at every opportunity.

In fact, every time you were with Yoosung, Cinnamon found a way to sneak himself between the two of you.

The first time was during that very first evening. You were sitting together on the sofa, a movie playing that you two inevitably chattered all throughout. Even if you’d try to pay attention during films, Yoosung would always whisper questions into your ear, causing you two to spiral into snickering and utterly off track.

The two of you were distracted once again, Yoosung remembering a joke he’d heard earlier in the day and suddenly eager to tell you. He leaned against you on your two cushions of the sofa that caused you both to only sink further – Yoosung practically laying on top of you by the end of it. The more he tried to tell you the joke in that hushed, giggly voice the more it made you laugh.

When Cinnamon noticed, well he wanted to know what was so amusing. He began pawing at the side of the couch anxiously, tail wagging and even his far-too-long ears perking up. 

Of course, you sat up – causing Yoosung to too, rise. You lifted up Cinnamon and he covered you in kisses, and admittedly, took the whole of your attention. By the end of the movie, he’d fallen asleep in your lap where one could hear the faintest snoring. 

Yoosung had compromised by resting his head against your shoulder, occasionally pressing kisses to your neck. Every time you could see frustration bubbling up inside of him, Cinnamon yawned or stretched his paws just so against Yoosung’s leg and your husband settled back down.

The next time was simply minutes later that night when the two of you made your way to bed, Cinnamon still cradled in your arms. Yoosung’s hand hung gingerly at the end of your shirt, keeping you close. It was a habit he gained after losing you so often in crowds, and in his sleepiest moments. 

You’d both collapsed against the bed the second you were able. Sheets were loosely pulled back only to ‘plop’ on top but you could’ve cared less as long as long as your head still hit the pillow. 

Cinnamon started in your arms, but that was until he started to climb. You couldn’t stop laughing as this tiny puppy began trying to climb over your neck and shoulders. How could anyone? 

Well, Yoosung didn’t find it quite as funny. However, this might’ve been for the simple fact that when CInnamon did manage to make it over your shoulders, he landed on Yoosung, trying to pull you close. 

Yoosung snorted as paws and hair were suddenly smothering his face. It was pure luck that Yoosung managed to grapple the puppy in his hands before jerking back in alarm. You twisted around to see Yoosung pressing his nose to Cinnamon’s, cheeks puffing out and nose wrinkled. 

“You are so lucky you’re cute.” 

Cinnamon barked in response, and Yoosung couldn’t hide the smile it brought. 

“Let me cuddle MC…!” Yoosung groaned, squeezing one of Cinnamon’s pads. “You got them this evening!” 

You heard a fussy growl.

“This is not up for negotiation!” 

Yoosung planted Cinnamon at the foot of the bed, but the puppy would wrestle with Yoosung’s feet beneath the sheets all night in outrage. 

In the morning, Cinnamon had squeezed himself between the two of you, and once again declared himself the victor of the fight. 

This situation carried on again and again for the following days. Yoosung, constantly battling between his obvious love for you and the utter adorableness of the puppy, and Cinnamon, who was blissfully unaware. 

It’d occurred when You and Yoosung were cooking dinner. He’d been making an effort to teach you, and soon it’d become a weekly tradition to try something new. Tonight was Japchae, and while Yoosung managed the beef you were handling the noodle simmering in the boiling pot. 

Yoosung, knowing the recipe well enough to do it with his eyes closed, often found himself distracted. This distraction was sneaking kisses. Each time you nearly spilled the pot in surprise, but you supposed you didn’t entirely mind the affection. 

With so much going on above him, Cinnamon, naturally, became curious. He tapped at your pant leg until you took notice. You lifted him up, holding Cinnamon close to your chest and allowing him to look over the whole kitchen counter. His eyes widened like dinner plates at the smells, especially that of the beef marinade. Soon enough, his jaw was hanging in delight and his tail was wagging rapidly. 

“What’s he doing?” Yoosung asked, now slicing carrots into short, thin strips. “What if he sheds onto the noodles?” 

You hid part of your face behind Cinnamon, tipping the pup from side to side playfully. “That’s why he’s staying close to me!” 

Yoosung huffed. “He’s going to ruin the dish! He’ll slobber in the water!”

“No, he won’t! Cinnamon is very well-behaved!” You raised your voice to be higher, mimicking what you thought Cinnamon’s voice would’ve been. Perhaps you were lucky Cinnamon had no idea that was what you were doing, because you felt rather silly. “‘Yes I am, Mr. Yoosung! I’ll be good’!” 

“Yeah, you will! You’ll be good at taking up all of their attention!” He tapped Cinnamon’s snout, frowning. 

At that moment it clicked, and you grinned. You took a few steps closer to Yoosung, pushing forward Cinnamon’s leg to smush against Yoosung’s cheek. 

“‘Are you jealous of me, Mr. Yoosung~?”

Your husband’s cheeks began to burn a bright red. “I-I am not jealous of a dog!” 

You lowered Cinnamon back to your chest, doing your absolute best to swallow your laughter. “Oh my gosh, you’re jealous of the dog.” 

“I am not!” Yoosung’s voice got higher and higher with embarrassment. 

“Did you think I would leave you for Cinnamon? He’d become the sole focus of my life and leave my dear husband in the dust?” 

Yoosung made a humiliating groan. “It sounds so silly when you say it like that!” 

You snickered and set Cinnamon on the ground before kissing Yoosung, the man leaning so forward into you, you both almost tumbled over the counter. When you parted, your foreheads still pressed against one another and flecks of his golden curls brushing against your cheeks. 

“It might’ve been a little silly.” 

You were actually broken apart by Cinnamon, winding between your legs and barking, eager to be brought back up. It was a request that couldn’t be denied, and Yoosung hoisted him up, the puppy licking his fingers and yipping excitedly. 

Yoosung could never resist an animal for long. And at that moment, Cinnamon went from a guest to a part of your family. 

[llendrinall]

So i once read a fic where Draco had a small pet and now i really wanna read something where he just keeps getting small pets. He's got an Elf owl, a rusty spotted cat, a small snake (Dk any small snake breeds), a squirrel, a guinea pig, a Pygmy Rabbit, 2 SUGAR GLIDERS, a Fennec Fox, a ferret. Like ik this makes no sence but i legit wanna read a gaint crack fic where he just keeps getting small animals and everyone is just like "????"

But, but, but, Draco is not collecting tiny animals. There is a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Draco has an elf owl because a respectable independent wizard must have an owl, and after the eagle owl from his youth he wanted something different. Nothing else to it.

He does not have a rusty spotted cat. It is a wild animal, a threatened wild animal, and it would be irresponsible to have one as a pet. Aramis’ previous owner (Aramis is Draco’s rusty-spotted cat) was an idiot and Draco took great pleasure in winning Aramis in a bet. He tried to move Aramis to an adequate environment, but by then time he figured out how to contact the zoo Aramis had grown too used to Draco and it would be cruel to part from him.

There are merely three native snakes in Britain: the adder, the barred grass snake and the smooth snake. Cora, at 55 cm is a bit short for a smooth snake, but she is still lovely. Draco found her by chance in a basket of motted goldcrest eggs he had ordered at the apothecary and what was he supposed to do then? Kill her? She is not poisonous, she mostly eats mice and small lizards and, according to Harry Potter, calls Draco “Sun”. Cora thinks that Draco is made of the sun, that he is some sort of Sun God. Of course Draco will behave accordingly. Not many people believe in him, so he will take Cora’s admiration any day.

Draco does not have a squirrel. Renata belongs to herself. She just likes to sit with Draco when he is reading in the manor’s garden. Sometimes, if she has something to tell him, she climbs to his window and knocks. No, there is not a parseltongue for squirrels, that’s stupid, and Draco is not a squirrel-tongue, he just understands her very well. He also suspects that Hermione’s gift of a hat is some sort of stupid hidden joke, but Renata and Draco are above such childish humour.

The guinea pig belongs to Teddy. Only Teddy, odd child that he is, is terrified of rodents. Draco doesn’t know why he is the one stuck with Roderick when Teddy has a perfectly nice godfather right there who should take his responsibilities more seriously. It’s preposterous.

(Did he call Harry perfectly nice? Draco is sure he did not).

The pigmy rabbit might be Draco’s fault. After Roderick’s fiasco, Draco decided to acquire a properly fluffy and cute pet for Teddy. But apparently pygmy bunnies have enough rodent-like qualities to scare Teddy, so Draco has Ferdinand’s wardenship until such a time when Teddy is grown past his silly rodent aversion and realizes how cute Ferdinand is.

The sugar glides were a fashion accessory of some witch or another in a Ministry gala. (Ok, they belonged to Felicity Bullstrode-Greengrass). They jumped from her shoulders into a passing drink tray and from there to the floor, scampered under a table, climbed up a pillar, glided beautifully across the hall miraculously avoiding any and all spells trying to catch them, landed on Justin Finch-Fletchley’s head, jumped into a flower arrangement and scurried between the decorations until they arrived near the balcony door where Draco was standing, bored out of his mind and debating whether or not he should take up smoking or if he should jump out of the balcony instead to see what would happen.

(The Ministry of Magic is underground, so the panorama in windows and balconies is the result of a spell).

The sugar gliders couldn’t escape through the balcony route and after all that effort, how could Draco not offer them shelter under his coat? It’s practically his duty as a Slytherin to secret away two living fashion accessories and later train them into becoming criminal accessories. Ha. Haha.

Draco won Sana, the cheeky fennec fox, from the same arrogant wizard who used to own Aramis. This time Draco also got him arrested because that was his actual purpose in meeting him, to get him to confess where he was keeping the cargo. The bet was a distraction until the Aurors arrived, and Draco won fair and square. He asked Ron Weasley what was he supposed to do with her, but apparently they were busy, Draco, some of them had to break a poison curse before they could even begin to move the cargo, Draco, just take the weird rabbit cat and go.

So Draco took Sana in his arms and left. She likes Aramis well enough and they spend their days napping under a sun ray in the library.

Oddly enough, Draco will admit that he has a pet ferret, but only because that’s preferable to admitting that one idle summer he got it in his head that he should try becoming an animagus (unregistered, of course, because he might not be a dark wizard but he is far from reformed) and it turned out that is his animagus form.

So, as you can see, Draco doesn’t have any pets. He has a ferret, but that’s a lie.

[villainousshakespeare]

Happy Birthday & congrats on 200 followers! I was thinking number 1. Just. One. Bed (a favourite of mine as well) with sassy lil angel haired Magnus 😉

Thanks very much for the request! Hope you like it! (and hope smut is okay!)

First story for my 200 Followers/Birthday writing challenge! 

Bunnies in the Rain

Magnus Martinsson/Reader 

Rated M - sex, smut, kissing, romance,angst, fluff

“I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid there’s only one room available,” the overly made up-clerk simpered, batting her eyes at your colleague and completely ignoring you, even though you were the one who had asked.

“That’s fine,” you answered, voice sharper than it strictly needed to be as you stared down the pretty girl. “We don’t mind sharing.”

Ignoring both her pout and the amused smirk from your partner you could just catch out of the corner of your eye, you slapped your credit card down on the counter. Smiling sympathetically at him the girl - really, she couldn’t be much more than that - made the necessary arrangements and handed you a pair of key cards.

”Second floor, room on the right,” she smiled, still ignoring you. “Do you need help with your bags? Not that you would, you look so strong.”

”No bags,” you grumbled, snatching the cards from her hand and turning to trudge up the stairs, leaving him to thank her.

”What is your problem? You practically bit the poor girl’s head off!”

You turned as your partner shut the door to the small room behind him and glared at him.

”You look so strong!” You cooed in an exaggerated version of the clerk’s flirting. “Why don’t you come back down and hold me with your big, strong muscles! Jesus, Magnus!”

”Jealous?” He asked with a grin that made his eyes twinkle.

Sputtering your denial in what was surely a “Me thinks the lady doth protest to much” manner you glared at your partner. Really, you couldn’t even blame the girl. On any given day Magnus Martinsson was the most handsome man you had ever seen. Tonight, after spending half an hour in what could kindly be described as a torrential down poor, he was nothing short of an Adonis. The rain that had turned you into a drowned rat had plastered his normally loose fitting button down shirt to his lean torso, displaying muscles usually only hinted at. His blond curls were darkened to a burnished bronze, but lost nothing of their tousled appeal as he ran his hands through them and shook out the excess water like an overgrown golden retriever.

”I just think one should maintain their professional demeanor when on the job,” you huffed, sounding priggish and pretentious to your own ears. 

”Yes, yes. I know how much you value professionalism,” he sighed, pealing the drenched shirt off to reveal his well defined chest and sculpted abs.

Considering you spent most of your time on the job trying not to stare at him, you thought, you had to prioritize professionalism. You had been partnered with Detective Martinsson three month’s ago upon your transfer to the Ystrad police department and every moment since then had been an intense combination of agony and ecstasy. 

It was not just that Magnus was so undeniably attractive, although that certainly did not hurt. No, on top of his radiant good looks the young detective was intelligent, excellent at his job, funny, and had excellent taste when it came to picking out songs to play on the radio. Considering the amount of time you spent in the car with him, the last was no small thing. Yes, he could be rather smug, and he did at times act overly put upon, but Magnus had a heart of gold to match his curls. It was enough to make you want to throw yourself down on the bed and cry.

The bed. Oh, dear god in heaven, there was Only. One. Bed. Tamping down your panic you glanced over to where your partner sat on a chair, pulling off his damp socks and setting them out to dry on the radiator. In anyone else it would have been repulsive, but you found yourself staring at his gigantic feet, thoughts you should not be having running through your brain.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"What?" your eyes snapped into focus to see him grinning at you, half naked, from where he lounged in the chair.

"Aren't you going to take your clothes off?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" you squeaked, face heating as he stood up and crossed the room to the closet, unbuttoning his jeans as he walked.

Had you hit your head when your car had swerved off the road, you wondered. Or perhaps you had died and were now in heaven.

"Here, catch," he said, grabbing one of the robes that had been hanging on the closet door and tossing it to you while he wrapped the other around himself and then shimmied out of his jeans. "You've got to be soaked to the bone, don't you want to dry off?"

Of course. Robes. Towels. The rain. Shaking your head to clear it of the image of Magnus half dressed you turned your back to him and quickly shrugged out of your dripping top before donning the plush white bathrobe. Using the trick every female learned at a young age you slipped your bra off from underneath, and after a quick moment wiggled out of your pants as well. Even though the robe was much thicker than your clothing had been, somehow there was something so... intimate about being clad in it. All it would take was a pull of the cord and your would be all but bare, as would he. It was enough to send all of your moisture directly south.

"The girl said their was a bathroom down the hall," he told you, padding towards the door. "I'll be right back."

The bathroom. Of course. If you had been thinking you could have gone there to change. Of course then he might have thought you were self conscious about changing in the room with him, and then he might have put the pieces to the very easy puzzle together and realized why changing near him was so uncomfortable for you. That could only lead to embarrassment and heartbreak.

Taking advantage of his absence, you did your best to finger comb your hair into something resembling a human style in the wicker framed mirror. The entire room was decorated in an old cat lady style you realized. Busily flowered wallpaper, a plethora of porcelain figurines, ruffled bead spread... which of course led you back to the bed. It was only a double you realized. Not even a full queen size. Two grown people, and Magnus was  very  grown, would have to stay quite cozy to sleep in it. Of course, most couples at a country bed and breakfast would not object to that. Unfortunately for you, this was not a romantic tryst with a lover but a misadventure during a routine drive back from a  court appearance in another jurisdiction. 

"You turn," your sunny partner said, sauntering back into the room with his robe open enough that you could see the light dusting of soft hair on his chest and long legs. You could not get out of there fast enough.

When you had settled yourself down with a pep talk in the bathroom you returned to the room determined to make the best of what was sure to be a long, sleepless night.

"So," you began, going for nonchalance and failing miserably you were sure, "this is cozy."

"Could be worse," he shrugged. 

"Oh?"

"At least there was someplace within walking distance. We could have been stranded in the car."

"Just because someone doesn't know how to drive in the rain..." you teased, loving that his face went red. It was always good when you could get a reaction out of him. He was normally so self assured, you often felt like a disaster in comparison.

"I swerved to his the rabbit!" he insisted, sticking with the story he had claimed at the time. "It's not my fault the side of the road was so muddy that the tires got stuck."

"Funny," you replied airily, "I didn't see any rabbit."

"Then it's a good thing you weren't driving," he told you superiorly.

You looked at him suspiciously. The red still tinting his face lead you doubt his tail, but you were magnanimous enough to let it go. Really, it could have much worse. You were both uninjured and the car, while not going anywhere without a tow, was relatively unharmed.

"So, left or right?" he asked, looking at the bed.

"Um..."

"It's not meant to be a brain teaser," he grinned at you.

"I can just sleep in the chair," you blurted out.

"Don't be ridiculous. We are grown adults. I am sure we can manage to behave ourselves for the length of the night. If you don't have a preference though, I will take the right side by the window. I get warm when I sleep."

Acting on his last words, Magnus untied the cord around his robe and tossed it onto the chair. Fascinated, you watched the ripple of muscle beneath the skin of his back and the way his boxer briefs hugged his peachy back side as he climbed into bed. 

Of course he could be dismissive about sleeping together, you thought despairingly. He was perfect, from his mop of curls to his boat sized feet and all that lay in between. Someone that divinely created would never be tempted by you, your overactive brain screamed at you. Sighing, you pulled your robe tighter about you, flicked off the light, and shuffled over to the bed.

Magnus had not been joking about being warm you realized as you lay down. You were on positioned yourself as close to the edge as you could, yet it still felt as though there was a furnace at your back. The awareness of him, coupled with the heat he was radiating, made you shift uncomfortably.

"You are ridiculously tense," he proclaimed, after you had tossed about for a few minutes.

"Generally speaking," you agreed, hoping he wouldn't suss out the cause.

"Here, roll onto your stomach," he said, voice brooking no refusal.

With an aggravated sigh you rolled so that your face was buried in your pillow, unsure why he thought this would be any better. As you settled in to your new position, the bed shifted and suddenly a very large, very heavy body settled onto you, straddling your upper thighs.

"What are you doing?" you gasped, trying to get up.

"Hush," he commanded, pushing your shoulders back down and beginning to rub your neck. "You need to relax. You are one gigantic knot! Most likely because of the accident. And because I was the one who caused it, though for completely humanitarian reasons of course, I should help alleviate it."

A million thoughts formed and fell apart in your brain as Magnus began working the knots in your neck with his gigantic hands. He was right, you were incredibly stiff, although for reasons other than the car accident, and his hands were magic on your heated flesh. Working his way downward, he tentatively pushed the robe off of your shoulders so that he could have better access to your skin.

"Is this alright?" he asked, voice betraying a hint of uncertainty that somehow made you feel better.

"Oh yesssss," you murmured, feeling the tightness release as he continued his way down your back. "You are very good at this."

"I made some money in college working at a spa," he confessed. "But you can NEVER tell anyone else at the station that. Okay?"

"Okay," you agreed. At that moment you would have agreed to anything he asked. His hands on you lower back, just above the dimple at your hip, were quite possibly the highlight of your life to date.

"That's what I like about you," he said softly, applying pressure to particularly to a particularly tight spot. "One of the things, I should say. One of many. You tease me sometimes, I mean, we tease each other, but not in the way the others do."

"You mean not for being beautiful?" you asked, not thinking of the words that were coming out of your mouth.

"Um... well, I wouldn't have put it that way," he gave a bark of laughter. "But you hear them. Ragging on my hair, or the fact that I still have a baby face. They find out I worked as a massage therapist, I'll never hear the end of it."

"Your secret's safe with me," you assured him, "as long as you don't stop."

Magnus worked in silence for a bit, teasing the knots out of your upper body with his heavenly hands. Once or twice you had a moment of embarrassment as they brushed against the side of your breasts, or low enough to almost graze your ass, but it all felt so heavenly that you didn't really mind.

"You really think I'm beautiful?" he asked after a bit as his palm worked down your spine.

"Of course you are," you mumbled, drifting off under his ministrations. "You're the perfect man. I've known that since the day I met you."

His hands stilled for a moment, then resumed caressing your back in slow circles. A small voice in the back of your mind told you you should be alarmed, but it was too far away, and you were too comfy. In complete contentment, you felt yourself drift off to sleep.

***

As you slowly awoke to consciousness like a diver resurfacing from a deep sea excursion, you thought that you had never in your life felt so relaxed. The muscles in your body, normally so knotted and tense, were loose and heavy. Well being suffused your whole body. The warmth behind you was firm but pliant, and a light sporadic breeze was drifting over your neck. You could not remember the last time you had slept so well. 

And then it came rushing back. The drive in the storm, the mad dash through the rain when it became clear that the car would not budge, the bed and breakfast, and Magnus. Magnus massaging your back and neck in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as you lay beneath him on the small bed. Magnus, whos limbs were now a tangled mess with your own, and who's head was tucked into the crook of your neck behind you.

"Good morning," a fuzzy voice said, making you shiver as the air from his words hit the nape of your neck. 

"Um, morning," you gulped, trying to put together the end of last night. When you had begun to drift off, you had a feeling that you had said... something. Something you most defiantly should not have.

"None of that," he ordered, sounding stern.

"None of what?" you asked.

"Thinking. I worked far too hard last night getting you to relax to have you ruin it with that overactive brain of yours."

"Thank you for that," you said, swallowing.

"All my pleasure, believe me," he murmured, and you felt him smile against you.

"I doubt that," you said. "We should go see about the car."

To your great surprise, Magnus swore and hoisted himself up onto one elbow.

"Do you know," he said, voice aggrieved, "how damned frustrating you are?"

Stunned you rolled around to face him, hand clutching your robe together. His lips were pursed as he looked down at you, an exasperated expression on his face. 

"I am?" you asked, completely at sea.

"Absolutely! May ask you a question? Why do you think you were assigned to be my partner?"

"Chance?" you ventured.

"I am a senior detective. I outrank almost everyone else in the department, except Kurt and Anne-Britt. And I end up with the new girl?"

"Bad luck?" you tried again.

"It honestly never occurred to you that I requested you?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "That I went to Lisa and all but begged her to assign you to my car? To the point that she has been looking askance at me ever since?"

"You did? Why?" you were absolutely flummoxed.

"Because I liked you, you idiot!" he said, pulling at his blond ringlets. "I wanted a chance to get to know you before the other vultures swooped in. I thought if we spent enough time on stake out together, if you got to know me, that you might..."

"Might what?" you asked, properly confused.

"Might like me too," he said at last, flopping back onto the bed. "But you are the most confusing woman I have ever met! You stare at me -"

"Everyone stares at you, Magnus! You're gorgeous!" you interrupted.

"See, that's my point! You say things like that, you laugh at jokes I make that even I know aren't funny, you seem to like me..."

"I do like you!"

"But then you go all proper and by the book on me. You won't go out for a drink with me after work. You avoid me when I see you in town."

"I do not!" you insisted.

"The other night at the pub?"

"You were with that blond," you sulked.

"You did see me!" he said triumphantly. "That blond was my cousin. I was there hoping to run into you and she was my cover!"

"Seriously?" you stared at him.

"Would I make up something that humiliating?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "So when the car got stuck - and I swear, there was a rabbit - I figured it was my last shot. But I give up. I get it. You're not interested, and I can respect that... And I have just made an utter ass out of myself. I'm going to go take a cold shower. And then jump off a bridge somewhere."

You realized that you had been staring at him blankly, mouth hanging open and giving no indication of the thoughts racing through your mind.

"Magnus! Wait!" you cried suddenly, grabbing his wrist as he made to get out of bed.

He turned and looked at you, blush staining his cheeks. You swallowed and looked down, eyes going wide as you realized that his feet and hands were not the only large things on him, going by the bulge pressing for release in his briefs. You were fairly certain you made a noise that was not words in any language before dragging your eyes back up to his eyes.

"What?" he asked, voice sounding almost sullen.

"I like you too," you spoke the words quietly.

"What?" he asked again, eyes widening.

"I said I like you too," you repeated, a tentative smile tilting up the corners of your lips. "That's why I've been so by the book. If I gave myself even the smallest license around you I would never get any work done. I would just sit there and stare dreamily at you for hours. Or worse, throw myself at you and tear off your clothing."

"I wouldn't call that worse," he remarked.

"I don't go out for drinks with you because I fear letting my tongue loosen around you. I'm afraid I will tell you how you're all I can think about, and I would kill to be with you."

"You mean that?" he asked, beginning to smile in return.

"More than I've ever meant anything in my life," you told him.

"In that case," his hand moved to brush a stray hair out of your face and trace your lips with his thumb. "May I have your permission to kiss you?"

"You may have permission to do what ever you like!" you breathed, meaning it.

"Dangerous words, darling," he said in a dark voice that you felt to your toes.

Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, almost tentative. He nipped lightly at your lower lip and you gasped, opening enough to let his tongue slide into your mouth. After that, you were lost. At once coaxing and demanding, Magnus drew you into a kiss that set your body aflame. Your arm wrapped around his neck and you fulfilled your dream of burying your hand in his buoyant curls. His own hands were wandering over your body, teasing with the edges of the robe still encasing you.

Pulling away from your lips for a moment, Magnus lifted the cord of the robe and raised an eye at you in silent question. You smiled wantonly and nodded. With a growl, he tore open the tie and pushed the offending garment down your arms before pulling you back flush against him. The heat of his skin, all hard planes and taut muscles, seared into your bare flesh and you raked your fingers down his back. His kisses began trailing a meandering path across your jaw and down your neck, pausing to suck or nip as the went. Helpfully you tilted your head to one side to grant him better access.

"God, you have no idea how long I have wanted to do this," he groaned, rolling you onto your back and rising up to look down on you. "You are so beautiful. So smart and sexy."

"Please," you whimpered, tracing his torso with needy fingers. "Please don't stop."

"Oh, don't you worry about that!" he grinned lasciviously. "Unless you tell me to, I am all a go!"

Putting action to words, he was upon you again, taking one hardened nipple into his mouth to suck and torment with his tongue. While he distracted you thus, his hand slid down to glide over the satin of your undies. With a hitched breath you bucked up into his touch and he chuckled with sin. Deft fingers began running over your satin covered lips, teasing and pressing with great skill. When you began thrashing back and forth he gave a low purr and pulled the knickers down and off of you, tossing them to the floor.

"Perfect," he said again, eyes roaming over your body while you writhed beneath him. One long finger pressed against you, slipping within your folds and feeling how wet your were. Magnus hummed in pleasure, biting his lower lip as he slowly inserted the long, slender digit deep within you. "Oh yes, you are going to feel so good around me."

You tried to form words, but all that came out of your mouth were whimpers. With a predatory glint in his eye Magnus quickly shucked his boxers briefs and positioned himself between your thighs. Your knees came up to nestle him in closer and he rocked against you, rubbing the head of his cock through your damp folds.

"Are you ready?" he asked you, pupils blown and strain showing in his face.

You nodded twice, eyes big as they locked with his. Slowly, achingly slowly, Magnus pushed forward and slid into you. It was almost too much as he pulled back and pressed forward to work his way deep within your walls. A long, low groan escaped his lips and his head arched back as he finally bottomed out. You had never felt such stretch before and were grateful that he stilled a moment to let you adjust. When he finally began to move again within you, you discovered that he had more than just size in his favor. Magnus angled deftly to his every spot within you, while the course hairs at his base rasped against your pleasure center. Before long the room was full of the noise of sex - moans, gasps, and the slapping of skin on skin as he drove you both to the edge and over. Your name had never sounded as sweet to your ears as it did when Magnus shouted it in release.

It was some time later when you made your way, tottering a bit but supported by his strong arm around your waist, down the stairs to the counter to check out. The same young woman was working the counter (it was a family establishment) and from the sour look on her face she had heard your very vigorous activity some time before. You settled the account and, hand in hand, made your way to where a tow truck was in the process of pulling Magnus' car out of the muddy ditch on the side of the road.

"Magnus," you said sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Yes love?" he asked, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it.

"I still don't believe you saw a rabbit," you said with a smirk. "But I have never been so happy for an non-existent animal before in my life."

@yespolkadotkitty @caffiend-queen @nonsensicalobsessions @hopelessromanticspoonie

[snowbellewells]

A Litter More Than They Bargained For

{Oh my goodness, this event has just been a joy, and I have loved every entry I’ve gotten a chance to read so far.  I’m excited to add mine to the list, and hope that you all will enjoy.  Thanks so much to all the lovely ladies on the @cspupstravaganza Discord chat, particularly @shireness-says  @profdanglaisstuff @snidgetsafan  @kmomof4 and @darkcolinodonorgasm, for all of the amazing dog name suggestions - I put a fair few of them to use here! ;)  Also, @profdanglaisstuff thank you bringing us such a fun event!!}

“A Litter More Than They Bargained For”

by: @snowbellewells

One pet she could have handled. One pet would have been perfectly manageable. A single, sweet-natured, reasonably well-behaved small pet - maybe a cat or a rabbit or even a hamster - wouldn’t have really changed anything about their lives in the seaside house or their daily routine that much. In fact, she and Killian had already been discussing a surprise for Hope in the form of a kitten from the litter her mom and dad’s barn cat had recently birthed, completely charming their pre-schooler upon her first visit to them at her grandparents’ farm.

Somehow, instead, all of Emma’s best-laid plans had been inverted and overturned, as so often seemed to happen in their chaotic magical town. When they had gone into the station that particular morning, they had found a large, mud-caked, burr-riddled dog tied to the bike rack and whining pitifully upon first sight of them. Emma was too disgruntled at the culprit for figuring out that their whole three person department were soft touches for strays as she charged foward to untie the poor beast, to even realize that the critter was already rooting into her affection. Needless to say, rather than their intended adoption, they had managed to take in a shaggy, slobbery mixed breed almost as large as a Shetland pony, with at least some Irish Wolfhound in its ancestry, according to the shelter attendant.

Gleefully mimicking that last declaration in her toddler voice, Hope had leaned over out of Killian’s arms to reach for where the huge hound lounged panting on the exam table, tongue lolling and tail thumping happily as she babbled, “Wolfie! Wolfie!” and patted along the dog’s back and shoulders as well as she could.

The thick, scruffy grey fur covering the animal’s lanky form did indeed resemble a wolf to some degree, and Killian chuckled goodnaturedly at the easy moniker their daughter had seemingly bestowed. “Well, it would seem our little love has already christened her, Swan,” he commented lightly.

Emma wasn’t fooled by the casual demeanor covering her True Love’s words. She felt her last chance of finding a more suitable home for a dog of that size outside the town limits (preferably with acres for it to run) fade as she realized that her husband, as well as her little girl, was already attached. Killian wanted this dog more than he would admit.

Reaching out to stroke the gentle giant’s head resignedly, Emma reluctantly admitted to herself that the poor stray really was a sweet dog, despite her astonishing proportions and the amount of extra responsibility she herself would no doubt be taking on. “Hear that, Wolfie?” she questioned, looking the dog in the eyes rather than either member of her family, whom she could feel nearly vibrating with excitement beside her, “I guess you’re as good as ours.”

Henry only confirmed the permanence of the decision when he got home from the high school after his editors’ meeting for the school paper. Though a dog had never been something he had particularly asked for - they had spent so many of his growing up years being flung from one realm to another, either trying to rescue some member of their family, or seeking the needed magic item to fight some new villain, that it hadn’t left a lot of time for house training puppies or taking one for leisurely evening strolls. Still, as Henry came up the walk and saw Wolfie stretched out on the porch, Hope cuddled against her side and Emma and Killian curled together on the porch swing, the way her nearly adult son’s face had lit up and he’d rushed forward in excitement had shown Emma that kids didn’t really grow out of loving dogs, no matter their age.

Ruby, or perhaps the irrepressible brunette’s inner wild animal, seemed to find their new addition, and the rather obvious name Hope had latched onto, especially entertaining. Due to Wolfie’s size, the Jones clan now ate outside at the patio tables when they stopped for breakfast on the way to drop Hope off at Ashley Hermann’s Pumpkin Seeds Daycare, and before Henry took off for class and they headed on for the station. Her mother’s best friend didn’t even try to hide the fact that she saved back either bacon, sausage, or ham especially for Emma’s pet each day, laughing when after about a week Wolfie came to her the moment she excited the diner’s front entrance, before she could even reach their table, and began nosing at her pockets for the expected bounty.

However, it was Granny herself who startled them with a matter of fact question about a month after Wolfie had joined their family. The diner’s proprietress had come out to wait on them herself that morning, a real nip in the air as November neared, and explaining that Ruby was lying in for a while after the full moon the night before. Her half-spectacles perched on the very end of her nose, eyes sparkling with every bit as much pep and mischief as her exuberant granddaughter when she neared their table, sleeves rolled up to her elbows despite the chill and a pencil tucked behind one ear.

“The usual, Captain?” Widow Lucas asked with a playful nod to Killian, “or are you and your crew feeling adventurous this morning?” While awaiting their answer, she reached into her apron for her order pad, also pulling out a juicy ham bone for Wolfie.

“Here you are, darlin’ girl,” she continued, bending to offer it to their canine companion, much to Wolfie’s approving delight as she barked a ‘thank you’ and took the treat into her drooling jowls with an almost humorous care, then immediately dropped to hold it between her massive paws and began gnawing away.

When Granny stood to face them again however, a knowing smirk was painted across her face, taking their breakfast order seemingly long forgotten. “You don’t have a clue that dog is carrying a litter of pups, do you?” she asked, shaking her head at what she seemed to think was their dense naivete.

Crossing her arms, Granny watched a variety of reactions cross the four faces before her. Henry looked awed and curious, while Hope practically bounced on Killian’s knee asking, “Puppy? Puppy! We having a puppy?”  Killian’s brows rose in surprise, and Emma was already shaking her head in disgruntled exasperation. “Really?” she sputtered, narrowly eying the diner owner as if it might be some sort of elaborate joke being played at her expense.

Then, she plunked her head down to rest on her arms where they were crossed on the table, sighing as her daughter contiuned to chortle in delight and Henry and Hook laughed heartily, in spite of their manful efforts to hold back for her sake. “Why am I even surprised?” Emma muttered. “Of course, she is.”

***

From there, they learned that apparently the shelter owner did not have it out for them, but that it can be genuinely hard to tell when a dog is expecting until they are quite close to their due date. It also turned out that Granny’s lupine sixth sense had been right on the money. Within another couple weeks, they could see for themselves that Wolfie’s stomach was rounding and she was nesting in corners throughout the house, particularly favoring the warmth of the laundry room between the dryer and the wall. Seeing as how canine gestation was only eight or nine weeks from start to finish, and their mother-to-be was already showing, it was a bit of a scramble to prepare, knowing the litter of pups would soon be on its way.

As had become typical since Wolfie’s arrival, this too went well beyond what they had expected.  On the night they returned from Hope’s Thanksgiving Play at the preschool to tiny yips and whimpers greeting them the second the door opened, the entire Jones family was stunned to discover eight small wriggling bodies jostling for place against Wolfie’s exhausted form where she lay curled into the mound of old blankets and towels they had created for her once her fixation on her laundry room nest become plain. Various rather wetly bedraggled and squirming balls of grey, black, white and mottled mixes of those three colors in coat greeted their eyes, prompting Killian to comment rather drily, “Well, now there are nearly enough of us to crew a pirate ship.” He chuckled, shaking his head, as he added, “Mayhap we can give them proper nautical names this time, rather than letting Hope call them the first word that pops from her mouth.”

“Paaa-pa!” their daughter protested indignantly, stomping her little foot on the linoleum tile and placing chubby fists on her hips. “I did not!” In her two braids, beaded headband, and fringed brown “Indian” dress from the play, she made more an adorable than a threatening sight as she intended, but Killian nodded to their daughter dutifully all the same. “My apologies, little lass. Of course you didn’t. I must have been mistaken.”

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head at his mannered playfulness with Hope, though her heart warmed inside her as well, loving that their little girl had never known anything but a devoted, adoring, present father, who might have to be pulled back from spoiling Hope at times, but would never let her down or abandon her. The two of them could melt her every defense, just as Henry had always done, even if it did sometimes leave her trying to be the voice of reason, Emma didn’t truly mind.

Henry, for his part, snorted inelegantly at their nonsense, crouching to pet a nervous-looking Wolfie on the head and scritch under her chin the way she liked. “Don’t worry, girl,” he mumured soothingly. “We won’t hurt them. You’re all safe here.”

Her son then grew thoughtful for a moment, as if mulling something over, then looked up when he asked excitedly. “What if we did pick nautical names for them all?  Like Jack and Jib and Scurvy?” He was grinning from ear-to-ear now, an expression Killian quickly mirrored, as his Author’s love of wordplay awakened.

“Aye, lad, those are great! And perhaps Scoundrel and Buccaneer as well?”

“Hey, hey, guys,” Emma broke in, trying to stop their now steaming train before they got any more carried away. “Let’s not get too into naming them. The families who adopt them may not be looking for pirate dogs.”

But her husband and son were already on a roll, adding Barrie in a nod to the Englishman who had created Killian’s literary counterpart and Doubloon to the list of potential puppy monikers, and not paying her words the slightest bit of attention.

***

Finding homes for their doggie brood proved more difficult than Emma had hoped. If nothing else, it had worked out that they were being weaned just in time to join a family for the perfect child’s Christmas present. And, much as she had intended for them to have a quiet little tabby kitten padding after her through the house rather than a train of panting, yipping, running and tumbling balls of shedding fluff, the pups were sweet and incredibly cute. So she couldn’t understand how every time she thought she had someone poised to take one home, it fell through at the last moment.

With a sigh, she turned away from the sidewalk where old lady Hubbard was walking away. Still cradling Cutlass and Matey to her chest, one in each arm, Emma crossed the porch to sink onto the porch swing with a dejected air. She bent to press a soft kiss into each of their soft, fuzzy foreheads, murmuring what good babies they were and that it wasn’t their fault. Intellectually, Emma knew it was rather ridiculous to be trying to comfort two puppies who were now playfully rolling and tumbling in her lap, not the least bit concerned at the interview’s outcome. They really had been particularly good as their potential new owner had arrived to meet them; sitting calmly without barking or jumping up, sweetly licking the elderly woman’s fingers affectionately when she offered them, and looking even more adorable than usual with their coats freshly bathed and brushed, so black and silky that their fur nearly shone. All their neighbor had seemed able to focus on though was that they might get under her feet and cause her to fall. When Emma had spoken to her before, the older lady had seemed so anxious for some company now that the last of her many children had left the house, but once she had arrived to see the puppies, all she kept saying was, “I’m all alone out there. If I fell, I might lie for days, unable to get up, and no one would know.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders and ruffled the pups’ fur once again, annoyed, but not sure what to make of the situation. Standing, she was about to take the two little rascals back inside when Killian arrived home for the evening.

“They’re both still here?” he asked curiously, one eyebrow arched in question. 

Something niggled at the back of Emma’s mind with his question, whispering that he didn’t seem especially suprised. Shaking her head in silent answer, Emma ushered man and dogs back into the house and headed toward the kitchen, where she still had all of the dog dishes to fill.

“Ah well, Love,” Killian replied, something about his voice just a shade too nonchalant. “Perhaps it’s for the best. As energetic as these scalliwags sometimes get,” he laughed and scratched Matey’s belly when she rolled over to bare it in supplication, “they might have proven a walking hazard to one of advanced years.”

Emma was about to question him further, shocked that Killian had hit on exactly what had stopped the potential adoption, but at that moment Wolfie and the other six of her offspring burst into the kitchen and set up a chorus of barks and howls for their dinner, toenails clicking on the floor and tails thunking against the cabinets. So it wasn’t until later that night, as she was speaking to her mother on the phone, bemoaning yet one more failed attempt at finding the pups permanent homes, that the niggling puzzle piece at last slid into place. 

“Well,” Snow offered hesitantly, “I’m sorry it fell through, Sweetie, but you know Mrs. Hubbard isn’t all that steady on her feet these days…”

Suddenly, it all added up: Mrs. Hubbard’s unexpected concern with puppies tripping her up around the house, how Ashley had at first thought they might take one of the puppies, only to be convinced by someone that mice would be much more fitting for class pets at Cinderella’s daycare, and how Aurora and Philip’s second child, Hope’s little friend Rory, had suddenly decided she wanted a white Persian kitten whose hair she could put a pink bow in, “like ‘Rie from ‘Ristocats” Aurora had explained in her daughter’s own words when she’d called to tell Emma.

“Oh my word!” Emma shouted, startling her husband, kids, and the pile of dogs sprawled over them in the living room where they were watching tv. “It was you all, wasn’t it? My whole family has been working against me this entire time!”

Looking sheepishly guilty, Killian and Henry both wordlessly shook their heads in denial. Her mother floundered for a defense for a few seconds and then simply fled by ending the call. But when Emma’s eyes came to rest on her daughter, Hope merely grinned widely, a shameless glint of mischief in her green eyes, and nodded her head in confirmation.

“Why?” Emma sputtered.

“Then the puppies are all ours!” her toddler chirped happily, falling back against Wolfie’s shoulder with a giggle, to which Wolfie merely huffed at the impact, then nosed Hope a bit further from the edge of the couch, as if she had one extra pup to watch out for and was making sure the child didn’t fall.

“We’ll see about that,” Emma grumbled, staring each of them down in turn. But, when she flopped down on the armchair in the corner, trying to hold onto her righteous indignation, and Scoundrel came over to check on her, pawing at her leg until she picked him up, and then nudging his grey snout flecked with white patches into her armpit as he stretched out across her chest and promptly fell asleep, Emma was smart enough to know when she had lost the fight.

They were the family with nine dogs now - an entire seaworthy crew.

Tagging a few others who may enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @gingerchangeling @thislassishooked @spartanguard 

[goingoverthegardenwall]

Chapter 3: Schooltown Follies

Since there have been stories, there have been stories that anthropomorphize animals. Folks have imagined creatures behaving as humans in every corner of the world, in myths and fables and fairy tales from ancient cultures to today. So by the turn of the 20th century, when a mycologist known for painting incredibly detailed images of fungus decided to instead write and illustrate stories about animals in contemporary clothes, it wasn’t exactly a new idea. But perhaps that makes it more impressive: despite the multitude of animal books for children that have been published in the last hundred and fifty years, the work of Beatrix Potter still stands out.

She’s not alone, of course: no good conversation about humanized animals in Western kid lit can last long without mentioning Richard Scarry or Margaret Wise Brown or Arnold Lobel. And Peter Rabbit’s extended family is quite British, which puts it at odds with the nostalgic Americana of Over the Garden Wall: it’s not for nothing that our assortment of animals in Schooltown Follies includes a raccoon and an opossum. But the timeless quality of Potter’s work is still felt in this episode in two ways. First, while the show has a cartoony lens, the school animals are far more anatomically accurate than Beatrice or the frogs of Lullaby in Frogland, evoking Potter’s signature field guide style. And second, there’s a mischief to Potter’s animals that makes them feel more like real children than the cute but bland residents of Scarry’s Busytown, and mischief is the name of the game when Greg comes to schooltown.

Schooltown Follies is full of clever tricks, but perhaps its most clever is introducing animals with human qualities (they wear clothes, play instruments, and walk on their hind legs) but not giving them voices. It’s generally great comedy fuel, showing the inherent ridiculousness of a school for sorta normal animals, but it more importantly allows the episode a silent movie feel, with plenty of physical humor enhanced by characters without dialogue. That style completes the episode’s subversion of Beatrix Potter’s oeuvre: she wrote stories about naughty animals learning that they should behave, but in this vaudeville version, the only way to save the day is by misbehaving.

“Then I’ll do what I need to do, I guess.”

Despite being one of our three main characters, Greg trades a full character arc for a comic relief role. At the beginning of Over the Garden Wall he’s a chatty kid who never gives up and loves fun, and at the end he’s a chatty kid who never gives up and loves fun. This doesn’t mean he’s fully static, as he matures enough to accept some responsibility to others instead of seeking entertainment for himself: he abandons a potential happy ending to try to save Wirt with the Beast, and returns his stolen Rock Facts Rock in the last shot of the series. But even this obligation to help out is present early on: Schooltown Follies is the first of his two focus episodes, and the foundation of his eventual heroism is established right here.

And frankly? I think it’s okay if he’s not that dynamic. Greg doesn’t change as much as Wirt or Beatrice because he doesn’t have nearly as much to overcome, and he still contributes to the show without forcing the crew to juggle three distinct arcs. Our older kids are on a shorter timer to grow up, and have clearer negative traits (Wirt’s got no confidence, Beatrice is a jerk), and while we can accuse Greg of lacking social cues, he’s so young that it’s not indicative of a larger problem. He’s just acting his age, albeit in a heightened way for entertainment, and to lose that innocence this early in his life would make this show a serious downer.

“Heightened” is the general mood of Schooltown Follies, where Greg’s less realistic behavior fits much better than The Old Grist Mill’s bottom-of-the-barrel aside. This is an episode where Two Old Cat, an old-timey bat-and-ball game that evokes a similar old-school era as our old school, involves searching for actual old cats, somehow finding them immediately, then realizing one is too old to play and must instead be taken care of by a raccoon in a newsboy cap and overalls.

While there’s plenty of humor to go around in Over the Garden Wall, this is the only fully silly episode. Our other lighthearted outings come with dark twists: Songs of the Dark Lantern introduces the Beast, Lullaby in Frogland reveals Adelaide, and Babes in the Wood turns out to be the most somber episode of the series with context. Here we almost get a parody of such a twist, with characters repeatedly mentioning a wild gorilla on the loose apropos of nothing, then revealing that the gorilla is Miss Langtree’s paramour trapped in a suit. It’s a ridiculous setup to a ridiculous punchline, aided by casting Thomas Lennon for a few lines of dialogue (his read for “I. Was. The gorilla” was worth every penny), so there’s never any sense of danger. Jimmy Brown and Enoch are equally harmless in the end, but I doubt any little kids watching are gonna get nightmares about the ape suit.

This mood is enhanced with song, but among the many musical moments in the series—Mad Love is the only episode without singing in some form—Schooltown Follies stands out by not letting any of the numbers finish. We begin and end the episode in song, but Greg doesn’t have the last lines for Adelaide Parade figured out, Langtree’s Lament faces numerous interruptions before being cut short by the bell (they actually did a full version though!), and Potatoes and Molasses gets stopped first by Mr. Langtree, then by the end credits. Even Miss Langtree’s piano rendition of last episode’s Patient is the Night halts when Greg mashes the keys. It’s the perfect atmosphere for an episode about a kid who loves fun, but is easily distracted and hasn’t developed good planning skills.

Which isn’t to say that Greg is dumb, but that he’s prone to winging it in a way that sets him apart from Wirt. While Wirt rambles his thoughts aloud, Greg takes action without telling anyone why, making his decisions appear random in a medium that often explains motives concretely to young viewers. Wandering in his own direction has become a running gag by now, and while he sets off to make the world a better place, he instead plays outside with animal truants. He’s jolted back to his quest by the bland food and dull atmosphere of lunch hour, and his irrepressible energy lightens everybody’s day without much effort. When Mr. Langtree steps in as an antagonist, Greg decides once again to do something about it, this time saying explicitly that he has no plan, but everything works out again. We get an excellent joke from his decision to rob Langtree right after he becomes sympathetic, but as usual, Greg has bigger ideas behind the humor that he just hasn’t articulated. 

While Greg is busy delightfully saving the day, Wirt and Beatrice ease into a sniping side story that establishes their relationship for the next few episodes. They got off on the wrong foot in The Old Grist Mill and twisted that ankle in Hard Times at the Huskin’ Bee, so by now Beatrice doesn’t even try to hide her disdain and Wirt gets fed up with it. This is the perfect type of subplot, one that develops our characters and fits into the theme of the episode—Wirt’s rebellious obedience bounces off Greg’s rebellious call to disobey—but doesn’t distract from the main story.

Beatrice is helpful in opening up Wirt’s snotty side in a way that allows us to cheer for him. Until now his biggest conversation partner has been Greg, and it’s tough to side with Wirt when he’s mean to Greg, but Beatrice is an equal in terms of sparring, and her rudeness is a more understandable motive for Wirt to be obstinate than Greg’s playfulness. Our last episode had him aimlessly suggest staying in Pottsfield, and he’s similarly bound to this new location, but his different attitude changes the entire story. After two episodes of dithering, it’s nice that they let Elijah Wood play a character who’s funny on purpose for a spell, reveling in annoying Beatrice.

And even though he doesn’t know what to do, we actually get our first heroic moment from Wirt here. Greg saved the day in Grist Mill, and the situation resolves without much issue in Hard Times, but Jimmy is saved from the gorilla costume because of Wirt. True, he only interferes after being commanded to by Mr. Langtree, and he clearly has no idea what to do, and he trips over his shoelaces rather than contribute in an intentional way, but it sets the stage for his rescue of Beatrice in our next episode. Deep down, when he’s not overthinking it, the kid is capable of bravery when it’s asked of him. And it’s wonderful that for all his differences from Greg, both share an impulsive approach to heroism when they decide to help others. It’s almost like they’re related.

Beyond getting a few good digs in at Wirt, Beatrice extends her meanness to Miss Langtree, which makes her pestering of the boys feel less personal: it’s not that she hates them, she’s irritable with everyone. But we also get the first hint of her warming to our heroes, letting Greg have his fun at the concert and telling Wirt to finally tie his shoes with just a tiny speckle of fondness. While she gets a bigger friendship moment in Mad Love, when she’s essentially forced to get to know Wirt better, it’s neat to see Beatrice gradually come around instead of flipping a switch after a major story event.

We’re about to get our next big Plot Episode, introducing the Beast and adding new doubts about the Woodsman, so a silly episode is just what we need. It’s our third in a row where something sinister turns out to be okay: obviously the gorilla is an example of this, but Mr. Langtree is similarly an intimidating presence who ends up being a regular man. Even the creepy squirrels from the opening shots of the Unknown’s dangers in The Old Grist Mill return as comic relief. We’re fully primed to look for goodness where we see wickedness. Just in time for us to learn to fear merry opera echoing from the woods.

Rock Factsheet

Greg’s spiel on hot dogs might not summon the Rock Fact Rock, but it certainly evokes the stone’s spirit.

Where have we come, and where shall we end?

Adelaide Parade and Potatoes and Molasses will both get dark reprises, and the former also gets the rare jolly reprise as well. But we unfortunately don’t get a harrowing future scene featuring Langtree’s Lament.

Two Old Cat is part of a list of bat-and-ball games mentioned by a rambling background teen in The Unknown.

[ephemeral-afterlight]

✴ and 🐾 for the sanders sides asks?

✴ - What is your theory on the next dark side?

Hmmm… this one, I have a bit of an odd relationship with. I know a lot of this comes from the colour theory (which I do enjoy!), and subsequently means that everyone is waiting for the Orange side. I’m… honestly not sure! I don’t really think of new side theories often, so this is really the first time I’ve contemplated it. I don’t think it’d be something like “Hate” (one I see a lot) because hatred in itself is classified more as a feeling rather than a trait and would fall under Patton’s reign. Obviously, this is not a prevalent aspect of Thomas/c!Thomas’ personality, but if it were to exist, I don’t think it’s a big enough aspect to constitute a completely separate side. I see “Wrath” as well, but I’m also a little bit iffy on that one because something about it feels almost redundant. 

In terms of traits already existing, you have most of them taken already: Logan is Thomas’ logic, critical thinking skills, problem-solving, thirst for knowledge, etc., Patton is his sense of morality and holds a lot of his emotional reactions, Virgil is his anxiety, caution, and fight-or-flight response, the Creativitwins make up his creativity, passion, and drive to create, and Deceit is his self-preservation, part of his survival instinct, and the purveyor of his want to better himself through any means possible. A lot of possible traits a new side could have are already overseen by the sides that have already been introduced, which is why a new side would have to come from a very different place than the rest of them do. So, I don’t personally have many ideas on what they could be, but regardless, I believe it’ll be interesting to see what the team comes up with!

🐾 - What pet do you think each of the sides would have?

Ahh, this one will be fun! This is drawn quite a bit from my animal communication au, and I have given some thought to this before.

Logan - Okay, listen. Logan is a Nerd™ and therefore couldn’t help himself when he got a pretty raven that resides in his room. He’s pretty quiet and calm, and therefore doesn’t distract him from his work, but also allows Logan the option of stroking his feathers as a destressing technique. Nobody knows this, since he doesn’t ever allow anyone in his room, but Logan also has a cat and a dog, which are both well-behaved and don’t get into fights with each other, which is the only reason he got them in the first place. His cat is a really pretty Birman cat with deep blue eyes and the softest fur, who will sit on his desk while he’s working (which initially annoyed him), something Logan realized she does when she senses that he’s too stressed out and needs to take a break and relax. Although it used to be something he viewed as an inconvenience, now that he understands her intentions, he has a respectful appreciation for her care. His dog is a Border Collie and Lab mix, which is admittedly a much bigger dog than he was comfortable with, but she’s not too rowdy and has come to act as a therapy/emotional support dog. Apparently, she also has adopted his cat’s awareness, and will tug lightly at his shirt as her own way of getting him out of his head. He never really has been one for pets or animal in general, but he adores the ones he has, and he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Dee - I can’t help myself. Snakes! Awesome snakes! Cold-blooded animals are his friends. He has two snakes that will chill wrapped around his shoulders, but he also has a huge Boa Constrictor named Ethel that doesn’t leave his room. He also has an enormous aquarium (floor-to-ceiling) full of all different colours and types of fish. He also has a tree frog somewhere, but she just does whatever she wants, so Dee doesn’t see her very often, at least not until she’ll randomly hop onto his hat and scare the shit out of him.

Roman - Okay, listen. He may be a prince, but he is also a princess, and therefore can talk to woodland animals and gain their trust very easily. He likes to sit in fields in the Imagination and animals will just be… drawn to him. Deer, rabbits, birds, even a huge bear that will let him use its stomach as a pillow. He just loves meeting them all! He also has a parrot named Mallory that resides in his room and will perch on his shoulder while he’s working, and the things that she says… well, without context, there have been some weird interactions with her.

Some examples of this include:

One time, Patton came up to ask if Roman was hungry, but instead found Mallory alone, sitting on a bedpost. She and Patton stared each other down without a word, and then she said “Sleep is for cishets”, and Patton never came into Roman’s room without knocking ever again.

“That’s not what eggs are supposed to be used for!”

Any time Virgil is in her presence, they curse each other out with increasingly profane vocabulary, and it is a mystery how she knows words that even Virgil has never heard before.

“No job! I’m gay, give me money!”

Once, Logan got into an actual argument with her over how the oven works. This is not the first time this has happened.

Patton walked in on Roman and Mal saying the words “Ranch dressing” to each other over and over again. He wishes he understood, but he doesn’t.

Sometimes, she’ll randomly blurt out the name of a brand of laundry soap. Roman suspects this is Remus’ doing, but he’s not 100% sure.

Deceit will take turns reciting with her the entirety of the song “All Star” by Smash Mouth line-by-line. Nobody knows when this started or why it has happened enough to routinely occur, but it’s still extremely entertaining, especially because of the monotony it’s done in. (”They don’t even sing, Logan, what’s the point?!”)

At midnight one night, Mal flew out of Roman’s room and down to the kitchen, where Patton was having a midnight snack. He didn’t notice her, at least until the words “Your elbows are my legal property,” came from behind him, and he has never screamed so loudly in his life.

“I’m going to live in a cave and you can’t stop me!”

Virgil - This comes as a surprise to exactly No One, but I do love the idea of Virgil having a few pet tarantulas to just chill with him when he’s doing mundane things. He really loves seeing all of the different types, temperaments, and species, and can name all of them very easily. He definitely prefers ones that are really calm, but he does have a few Old World tarantulas that he does not let out of their enclosures Ever because those bitches are cool, but mean. He also has a sleek black cat (for the Aesthetic) that will lounge on his bed and take his spot any time he gets up. He loves her, but he also kinda hates her, because she’s an asshole, so.

Remus - I Wasn’t Joking About The Locusts. (He also has a pet rat named Dorothy, who is actually really sweet and docile, which is an odd juxtaposition to her owner. Isn’t behaviour learned?)

Patton - Yes, he loves cats, but he can’t really be around them without needing an Epi-Pen. After many incidents involving a severe allergic reaction, Logan forbade Patton from being near them, so Patton settled for dogs instead. He still loves them just as much, though! He has a cute little Pomeranian that will happily bother whoever’s closest to give him attention, and Patton also has the sweetest blue heeler that is very friendly and well-trained, but he also has some more unconventional animals, too. He has three guinea pigs, a sugar glider, a beautiful Betta fish, a horse that stays in the Imagination, and oddly enough, a chicken, who sleeps in his bed with him every single night without fail. It’s a miracle Patton even remembers to feed all of them, but he adores every single one of his friends, so the others figure it’ll be fine for now.

[daydreamindollie]

bts ot7 | Home

Fragments Series: Just another incomplete written piece/plan/idea - not edited, not proofread, just raw writing w/ my notes

A/N: I wrote a bit of this while I was on holiday two years ago, I think. I really wanted to write my own hybrid au for BTS after being inspired by so many other writers out there, mainly @hollyhomburg , @magicalsalamander , @chimkookie , @daydream-hobii and SOOOO MUCH MOOORREEE! There are just so many talented people out there! Anyway, as this was written two years ago and I hadn’t looked at it since, please excuse any grammatical errors or just any errors really; back then, I tried to write better than I actually could so I’m sure many of the sentences are long-winded. But...yeah! The inspiration was there but without a proper plan, my vision wasn’t steady enough to maintain and just collapsed so...*sigh* another one for the fragments series, I guess...

WARNING: these may contain some of my notes, they will be indented and in italics so you can distinguish them from the writing. 

Also, this may contain some prejudicial views and minor conflicts, nothing major but just so you are all aware x

✚          ✚          ✚

Never Before had you felt so excited to reach your journey’s destination. Seeing as you live almost a full hour away from the city, these time-consuming journies were a normality in your life but they were bearable because you always distracted yourself with music, something to read and would even just watch the scenery run by the car window. All previous times were bearable because distractions always held your attention with a vice grip and iron fist, not on this particular day, however. 

Today, you would get your first ever hybrid. 

You had begged your parents multiple times promising that you’d be responsible for them and that you would take care of them and love them with all your heart. Eventually, they grew convinced and launched at your rambling plea for one such companion. 

“You can go get one tomorrow - heck get multiple! I know how lonely it gets here and we don’t want our hybrid to grow bored of you being its only other companion,” your father joked as you squealed with happiness and jumped into his arms, too happy over the long-awaited agreement.

Your parents could never say no to you for long, these were one of the times where they had tried to put their foot down, knowing the true requirements needed to own a hybrid. Deep down, however, they’d always given in because they loved spoiling their only, oh-so-precious daughter. If you asked for the world, there isn’t a doubt in their mind that they’d still say yes, after all, they have an immeasurable amount of money to spare and with such an amount they already had the world in their palms anyway. 

Months of convincing and pleading has brought you to this moment of ultimate concentration and anticipation for one thing - a person’s incomparable and irreplaceable companion - a hybrid. 

Even before your father’s agreement, you had long debated over the type of hybrid you’d prefer to have above all else. //You didn’t want the typical cat and dog, although that would be a rather tame decision, seeing as this would be your first ever hybrid and more information was available for them. //Maybe a bunny, the hybrid’s counterparts were always very endearing with their large doe eyes and extremely petite physique but hybrid-wise, that meant that they looked a lot like children and - you assume - would behave a lot like them too. Taking care of a child, although you’re very fond of them, isn’t something you wanna sign yourself up for just yet. In your head, you imagine a scenario where you’re able to chat and do fun activities with your hybrid like making up silly dances ti your favourite songs. There’s not a chance on this earth that you can do that with an exotic fish hybrid, they usually had fishtails instead of legs and looked very mermaid-like, meaning that only the richest had them, their mesmerising beauty was always a sight to behold and treasure although, however beautiful they may be, you’d rather be able to interact physically with your hybrid and not just stare at it. A peacock? you heard how high maintenance they were (alongside foxes) due to their animalistic traits coming ever so naturally to them/their counterparts not being usual house pets and therefore requiring more attention than usual. 

All this debating leaves you to wonder over what particular hybrid you’ll end yo choosing and befriending; there’s so much to choose from with pros and cons to each. The idea of even getting one is surreal, there are butterflies exploding with a vivacious flurry within the depths of your stomach constantly, surprisingly able to lift the weight of your precious meal on their frail wings and leaving you toeing the edge of either anxiety or excitement. The feeling, no matter how confusing its effects may be, is something you welcome with open arms, the way a lover would embrace the flaws that were responsible for their partner’s perfection. 

Throughout the lengthy travel, your nerves were itchy with impatience, which made your contemplation of the journey being shorter than expected after finally arriving, all the more peculiar. Your mind certainly has a distinct thought process in comparison to actual logic. Despite all that, it seems as though all of your previous excitement has been completely overtaken by an overwhelming sense of nervousness when facing the hybrid adoption centre. 

It was a powerful-looking edifice, tall and broad, harbouring an abundance of rooms with a similar amount of occupants. Amoung those many rooms, lies your future companion and longtime friend. It’s a heart-thumping prospect, so why were you so antsy? 

“Will they like me?” you hum thoughtfully to yourself, voice shaky and uneven with stress. This was your oppressing problem. You’re certain that you’ll find someone you’ll like but will they like you back? And even if they don’t, will you bring them home with you anyway? Just to know them better and have them eventually take a liking to you, perhaps? But what if they never grow fond of you? You can’t just ‘return‘ them, that’s absurd and so inhumane, it’s degrading; they can feel emotions more prominently than normal animals because they’re part human and vice versa. Your morals scream that you just can’t do that to a person. 

Your stuttering thoughts should have deemed your form motionless but your body moved on its own as if one autopilot from your subconscious. You’re lead through the main doors, across the foyer and right to the front desk, where the lady behind the computer asked however she could help you. 

“Um, I’m looking to adopt today,” you stated surprised at how reasonably steady your voice sounded. 

“Do you have an appointment ma’am?”

“Sorry, no,” you pull a face of guilt, mentally shaming yourself for being unprepared. 

“That’s alright! Do you have a particular type of hybrid in mind?”

“You shook your head ‘no’, “I’ve debated but I’m still very indecisive,” chuckling, the lady smiles up at you. 

“Don’t worry miss, that’s usually the case. Is this your first adoption?” her hazel eyes blink curiously at you.

“Is it that obvious?” you muse nervously as you fiddle and fidget with your fingers.

“Don’t worry it’s only because I work here that it is,” she assures before typing away momentarily, only beginning to reach over to the phone beside her to look up at you again, “please take a seat while I get someone to help show you around,“

Nodding with a sheepish smile, you gingerly take a seat, smoothing down the lap of your pleated skirt before taking the time to observe the facility. On the far left, there was a large door labelled with a metal plate ‘NURSERY’, where you imagine the newly borns are kept and goo at the idea. To the right, there seems to be a very spacious room filled with many pastime activities such as sports balls (footballs and basketballs), skipping ropes, books, a TV and probably more things as your view was rather restricted even though the doors were glass. Behind and to the right of the front desk, is another door that states ‘ROOMS’, which is pretty self-explanatory to you but also sets your nerves ablaze with spine-tingling anticipation with what’s to come. 

Inhaling a deep breath, you attempt to calm and tame your nerves as you pivot from where you’re seated, wanting to explore more of the place without having to walk around. You weren’t really expecting anything more but right behind you stood a tall black door. It seemed to hold secrets that begged you to unveil them. 

The amount of time you spent staring at the barrier that held back any number of malicious or wonderful secrets was unknown but your gaze was foxed for long enough that your feet began to move on their own again. Soon enough, you were making your way down a dimly lit staircase to find a room occupied by several - more specifically seven - hybrids. There was: a cat, two dogs, a peacock, a fox, a fish and a bunny-rabbit?

You tilt your head and shyly wave your hand, your head slightly bowed in timidity, showcasing your bashful demeanour whilst also allowing your eyes to stare at them in wondrous fascination. This was your first time ever seeing a hybrid in person and there were seven right in front of you. //“Hello,” you whisper, meeting the gaze of the only cat who hisses in warning at you, causing you to jump in place, your heart ready to fly out of your chest. You felt the nerves in your body preparing to run if need be but they instantly calmed at the sight of the bunny. As opposed to the pierce almond-eyed cat, the bunny appeared to reflect your anxiety, it was an endearing sight, but he was also beautiful, as a matter of fact, all of the hybrids present were ethereal in beauty. 

The peacock in your peripheral view was especially so, you felt as though he could resemble a prince from a fairytale, even so, the bunny had your full attention. He was nothing like a child as most should look like, he possessed the build of a male with thick thigh muscles, which was probably due to his bunny genes but it was still unusual (in a good way) to see a different beauty representing bunny hybrids. 

“What’s your name?” you ask after reaching the cage bars, eyes caring and warm and unable to hold back your elation. He gave no answer, only a frightened stare, making you furrow your brows. “What’s the matter? Don’t you have one?” you gently press for a response, eyes pleading for him to speak. 

“I’ve...I’ve never been adopted before...” he finally speaks, his voice like a finely tuned harp, having all things that leave his lips be melodious and musical. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, “but you're so beautiful...” you whisper to yourself, smiling fondly when you see a faint blush dusting his cheeks, “maybe you can finally have one if you agree to come home with me,” the instant those words left your lips, the other hybrids, who were looking on at your interaction cautiously, panicked. The peacock and dog shielded the bunny with their bodies as the other pup and the fox embraced him, leaving you to jump at the cat’s loud hissing as the fish banged a tight fist at his tank’s wall. //’Why were they being so protective?’ you ponder, not realising that the cat was reaching for you, past the bars of the cage, with his sharp nails drawn and bare, ready to strike. Just as he was about to claw at your face, a hand grabbed your upper arm and pulled you back. 

“Miss, you shouldn’t be down here!” a man with woodchip hair warns, drawing a taser from his back pocket and going for the cat, which you screamed at. 

“What are you doing?!” you snatch his arm back, expression scrunched up in worry and anger. 

“This lowlife was going to attack you, ma’am,” he reasons, brows knitted together with confusion. 

“Lowlife?...”

“yes ma’am - was going to attack you, a human,”

“I don’t care about that, I must’ve done something wrong in his eyes. I’m sure it was pure instinct for him to lash out,”

“But-”

“if you’re so concerned about them behaving ‘improperly‘, why don’t you teach them by being civil yourself and lead by example,” you huff, “people behave by copying others’ actions, don’t ya know?” you can’t believe how angry you’ve become since you only ever use shortened expressions when your temper was truly pronounced. 

“Ma'am, you really shouldn’t be here,” he warns, finally tucking away his taser, consequently calming your nerves, something all hybrids picked up on and raised a curious brow at after calming down themselves. 

“I know I’m not, I’m sorry for wandering off without fair warning or reason,” you try to be civil but your curiosity is peaked, “but can I ask ‘why‘ I’m not allowed here?” 

“Simply put, it’s too dangerous down here ma’am...” you note how his voice wavers and his eyes are restlessly examining the room, not keeping eye contact with you for too long.

“Dangerous?...” you turn to the hybrids with worried eyes, an expression they were unfamiliar with and don’t quite know how to interpret, “why are these hybrids here then?“

“Ma’am,” the worker hesitates, “these hybrids are the reason why it’s so dangerous,”

“I...I don’t understand...” you mutter, unable to comprehend how people with such sad, gentle eyes could harbour such a threat. The employee with the taser is more threatening to you. 

“We should really get you upstairs now ma’am. I can show you to the hybrids that you will definitely favour,” he puts on a weak smile as he attempts to lead you up the stairs behind you, only to falter in his steps when you abruptly pull away and step towards the cages once more, dismissing the worried gaze the male flashes you. 

“I’ve already made my decision though, so I won’t need to go upstairs,” all eyes in the room visibly widen at your proclamation as you smile in innocent excitement. 

“Who?!”

“The bunny please, if he’”s alright to go with me, that is,” you give the bunny a timid smile, staring into his large doe eyes as you try to tame the butterflies in your stomach. 

“I’m afraid that’s impossible ma’am,”

You pout, “and why’s that?” your tone is stern but also childish in some way, much like how a child would deliver demands during a strop. 

“Well, it’s impossible because if you want one, then you’ll need to adopt all of them.” now, it’s time for your eyes to widen.

“How come?”

“They’ve formed a very peculiar group-pack-alliance,” he sighs as you take a moment to look at the seven hybrids together, it was definitely a strange but lovely picture, “they always cause trouble by lashing out at whoever draws near, especially the cat. Many workers have quit from needing to go have some treatment done on scratches from him. This is why it’“s so dangerous here, they may look harmless but they can really hurt you, and it’s extremely expensive to adopt all seven. I, along with the rest of my coworkers, strongly advise that you don’t even think of adopting any from this group.”

You ponder for a moment, contemplating all your options as you stare at all seven hybrids collectively, “There’s no other way for me to bring the bunny home?”

“I’m sorry but no,” he says sternly, “please, just let me take you upstairs ma’am,”

“Is it possible for me to come here at a regular basis?” you turn back to him, having completely ignored his advice, “So that I can befriend them all before taking them home with me?” 

The worker’s jaw drops, “you actually want to adopt all of them?”

Facing all hybrids, you smile, eyes sparkling, “why not?”

[MAYBE END OF CHPT.ONE?????START CHPT.TWO???⇣]

Yet again, you find yourself taking another long journey to the hybrid adoption centre, giddy with butterflies after a long week of waiting. It would have been easy for you to take the journey every day but you knew how high gas prices were and didn’t want to trouble your parents in spite of knowing their wealth. You were also adamant in being eco-friendly. 

In your hands, you fiddly with the wrap of a large bento box, there were six others surrounding you filled with homecooked meals that you’ve put your heart and soul into. Hopefully, they’ll like what you’ve cooked; you did your best to research what particular hybrids liked. Bunnies loved carrot cake, cats like friend fish, dogs loved meat, foxes too, fish liked anything with bread and peacocks were very fancy with exotic fruits and such. It was a lot of fun to make but you also wanted to introduce them to other foods too. Most of the dishes were advised from the website most prominent in providing hybrid care information but you also included your favourite dishes, hoping to bond with them over something you liked similarly. 

“Good morning!” you greet the secretary, flashing a peppy smile which she returns hesitantly, eyes hovering over the bentos that were piled high in your arms, “I hope this is okay,“ you lift the lunches before quickly making your way down to the basement, too blinded by the excitement of finally making your own friends to notice that the secretary had just begun to protest, only to face the slam of a door. 

“I’m back!” you announce, giggling as you finally make it down the last step, “And I’ve brought lunches!“ again, you lift the bentos with a huff from their weight before setting them down. Facing up, you quickly note the surprised look all hybrids harboured just as you were about to ask what was wrong, your bunny spoke up. 

“You came back...” his eyes were wide and his form rigged, completely unbelieving of the fact that you had returned. 

“Of course I came back. I said that I would sooooo...here I am!” you gesture to yourself with a glint of mischief in your eyes, “Anyway, are you guys hungry? I made lunch,”

“We’re not hungry,” the cat snapped stubbornly from the back of the room, black ears and tail flicking in annoyance. 

[MAYBE REAL END OF CHAPTER ONE????]

please remember that this is, unfortunately, not going to be continued as it is a part of my ‘Fragments’ Series, where I just post works that I have discontinued, maybe still in its drafting/notes-infused stage. I know it might seem like a pointless series but I’m proud of all my works and love to share more than I should. 

[kryptored]

The definition of Glaikit - I

This was supposed to be a long one-shot submission for the MLV, turned very long one-shot with title, turned no longer just a one-shot and in separate parts because I just can’t stop. Oops. @vinebino because you asked for the release of this monster.

SUMMARY: They could be nothing more than friends, but sometimes her mind likes to play games with her. It plays with her by making her overthink and overthink and overthink and overthink – 

DAYS: 4 (secret admirer), 6 (crush), 8 (heartbreak), 13 (sweethearts)

He’s a famous model who also happens to attend the same university she’s in, and of all the seats he could have taken in Composition, he chooses the one right next to her. It turns out, they have a mutual friend who sits behind her, Nino Lahiffe.

“I’m sure you know who he is Mari, but just to make it official, this here’s my best bro, Adrien.” Nino pats on said friend’s shoulder, who’s angled his body to face both of them.

“Hi.” Adrien smiles and offers her his hand.

“Hi,” she smiles back and accepts his hand, “I’m Marinette. Nice to meet you.”

“Enchanté, my lady.” He takes her hand and moves it to touch his mouth and discreetly gives it a chaste kiss, his way of hiding it from any prying eyes who’d do nothing but spread but rumours. Marinette can’t help but blush a little at the action. This one’s definitely a charmer.

They got to talking in and out of classes (they have more than one together, surprisingly), and they found themselves quite closer than they could’ve possibly imagined.

Because of his impossibly busy schedule, Adrien is absent more often than not. And if it isn’t his other classmates and friends, it’s predominantly Marinette who provides him a copy of her notes, hand-outs, and even helps him out with assignments and essays they have to do. He thinks she’s a very good friend, and she thinks that he’s a very…interesting friend.

Marinette, on her part, was never exactly the luckiest person when it comes to her love life. The first few times she ever dated, it was either she didn’t like them back enough (unfortunately, as they were actually quite nice and lovely to have for company), or things didn’t go well to begin with (a third party was never anyone’s favourite). Her experience isn’t much compared to others, but it was enough for her to put-off any sort of involvements when it comes to relationships and/or falling in love. A diagnosis of tepid, really.

But with Adrien, everyday keeps getting hard and harder to avoid the little flutters she feels inside of her. It’s when she sees him that she can’t seem to stop fidgeting – her bag strap needed some twisting. Those stray and mischievous strands of hair can’t seem to stay still behind her ear and needs some scolding. She needs to keep touching her earrings to make sure they’re still there. Her favouritepencil needs to feel the warmth of her hand, twirling and spinning That strange little lump of whatever on the knee of her jeans calls for some assaulting with her nails.

It’s with Adrien that she has to be conscious of what she’s doing every time she hears his voice nearby – Do her clothes match? Is her skirt riding up far too up? Does she have a dirty smudge on her face? Are her lips going dry and chapped? Is her hair fixed? Is she wearing matching socks? Was that gum she stepped on with her pink ballet flats?

It’s with Adrien’s texts that gets her excited whenever her phone chimes – Does he think her jokes are also funny? Is he going to understand all those typos? Will he be offended by the meme? Does he mind that her replies are interchanging between too long and too fast?

Personality-wise, Marinette thinks of herself as quite shy and friendly. Others would sometimes come up with the most unexpected, such as mysterious or mostly-keeps-to-herself. She only ever behaves more openly when surrounded by family and friends. But knowing Adrien for quite some time and developing what seems to be a crush on him, Marinette can’t help but doubt all the qualities that made her who she is today.

Is she too quiet? Can he hear her voice at all, even as they whisper to each other? Is she approaching him far too close like that Lila girl, making him uncomfortable? Is she not sharing enough about her with him to make it look as if they’re friends? Does he think her childish whenever she ties her hair into pigtails? Does he think her immature for sometimes dressing herself like a doll? Does he think her designs are good, whether they be dresses adorned with flowers or shirts and pants that fit her petite figure perfectly? Is she too self-assured by wearing her own designs?

Quiet she may be, Marinette chooses to push those doubts and worries and anxieties away. This was just Adrien, a young man who happens to catch her attention and owns a beautiful smile.

He, who happens to have the greenest of eyes and softest hair.

He, who happens to be a dork obsessed with puns and cats.

He, who happens to be smart and athletic at the same time.

He, who happens to be very friendly and doesn’t flaunt his fame and wealth.

It’s only Adrien, and maybe this crush will pass soon enough. Hopefully, it’s before he ever finds out about it, or finds that one person he’ll fall in love with that’s not her. She’d rather not have a repeat of the past. It hurt far too much, and here she was wallowing in the rabbit hole called ‘falling in love with your untouchable and unreachable friend.’

But it’s a hard thing to do – ignoring, that is – when every time Marinette tries to act normally (that she doesn’t have these kinds of feelings for him), it’s Adrien who’s giving her these strange signals.

It’s the way he smiles at her whenever she talks animatedly about everything she’s passionate about.

It’s the way he looks at her whenever they share an entirely too specific joke that only they can understand.

It’s the way he always tries to sit next to her, whether they’re eating out or just talking with their friends.

It’s the way he gets really close to her that she can feel his breath against her, even if it’s because he wants to look over her shoulder.

It’s the way he touches her gently, curious to know if he the thumb rubbing against her elbow is intentional or not.

It’s the way he chooses to lean his head against her when he’s feeling exhausted from his schedule.

It’s the way he seems to light up when he spots her in public and waving at her like a child meeting their superhero.

It’s the way how he hugs her so tightly, while she’ desperately fighting between asking for air or have him hug her tighter and longer than necessary.

They could be nothing more than friends, but sometimes her mind likes to play games with her. It plays with her by making her overthink and overthink and overthink and overthink – is she looking into it far too much, or are they real? The only way she could possibly know is if she asks him directly, and Marinette doesn’t know if she’ll be able to handle the embarrassment.

Yet, was it a heaven-sent miracle when Juleka dropped by? Juleka who not only was another mutual friend but is Adrien’s closest co-worker as a model for Gabriel.

It’s another one of those days where young adults find themselves miraculously free of any responsibilities, friends happily chattering the time away as they play ‘catch up’ and hang out in whoever’s place. This time, it’s Nino who offers his apartment.

Adrien is sitting by the kitchen island, laughing loudly at Kim’s recounting of his disastrous date with Ondine (which ended with a kiss and another date in the future, but still disastrous because it’s Kim), garnering some of the other’s attention. Marinette, on the other hand, remains seated on Nino’s director’s chair (a gift from his brother), with Juleka being her silly herself by standing in-between her friend’s legs.

The tall and dark-haired girl is wearing a black cardigan paired with a cream and black retro plaid shirt, and black round toe chunky heeled shoes with buckles. Juleka takes hold of both Marinette’s legs by the calves, holding them as she lifts them up and down while the smaller girl giggles and tries to hold on to the arm rests. The girl whose legs are being accosted is wearing a grey short-sleeved shirt, tucked neatly in her black and white polka-dotted fixed box pleat skirt reaching below her knee.

“So, how’re you and Adrien?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, there’s friends and best friends, but then there’s also you two.” Juleka walks closer to her friend, her hands now grabbing the back of her knees. “You two seem awfully close.” She smirks as if she knows something, and that something is within her approval. “You look like sweethearts.”

“You think we’re…dating or something?”

“It kinda looks like that.”

“I don’t know about that, Jules. He’s very attractive and all the good things you could ever ask for in a guy, but…” Marinette huffs and feels herself withdrawing into a shell, away from awkwardness. Juleka bends over, realizing how personal this is getting. “I don’t think it’ll ever work out.”

Juleka immediately straightens, her face embodying the definition of elated, but doesn’t say a word. She pulls Marinette by her arms a little too excitedly, and whispers to her. “That’s… I knew I was right.” She pulls her even further inside Nino’s bathroom, making sure to close the door and lock it. “I could tell that you like liked him the minute I saw you melting when he complemented your outfit.”

“W-what? When was this?”

“During Rose’s birthday.”

“Oh…”

“You looked so red, I thought you were going to combust.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Only if everyone else was looking and could tell you were blushing with all those purple and pink lights.”

“So, how’d you know?”

“Because you always clasp your hands together under your chin whenever you blush.”

Marinette bites her lower lip, worried that someone else now knew about her affections for Adrien. And it isn’t just a random someone, this is Juleka ‘I work with Adrien and is practically his sister from the moon’ Couffaine. This is not exactly bad, but also bad.

“I really don’t want anyone to know, but I guess that excludes you.”

“Oh, definitely! When are you going to ask him?”

“Ask what? To go on a date with me?” Marinette fiddles with the lucky charm turned bracelet that Adrien gave her, her back leaning on the sink. She looks down and believes it her duty to study her red mary-janes with a bow on the ankle strap.

“Well, I can definitely tell you that he likes you.”

Marinette’s heart skips a beat, or maybe two, but she definitely felt something when she hears hope whispering in her ears about a mutual attraction between her and Adrien.

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so! I swear, you’re all he ever talks about whenever we’re on break. That guy is so smitten, he might as well turn into goo when he hears someone mention your name.” Juleka walks forward to her friend and places her hands on her shoulders. “I swear, that guy really likes you far more than he should for someone who’s just a friend.”

“but did he say it, though?”

“I… don’t know. But don’t actions speak louder than words?”

“And if he really doesn’t see me that way? What?”

“And if he does?” Juleka turns Marinette around, facing both of them in front of the mirror. She hugs her small friend from behind, swaying just a little as if they were dancing to the song of Marinette’s pounding heart. “We’ll never know – you’ll never know – until you actually talk to him.”

Marinette can only hold onto her friend’s hands, overthinking and worrying about what she’ll do.

She arrives early at the Métro and is stuck waiting for her train to arrive. She’s supposed to meet a client (or is it customer?) who reached out to her, asking to have a dress commissioned for her 16th birthday. Marinette was ecstatic and quite shocked to hear that the teen thought of getting a local and aspiring designer to make her debut dress, instead of someone far more experienced in the line of work. Renée, the girl who personally sent her an e-mail about the commission, reassured the designer that she’s actually a fan of her work and has been buying and wearing them ever since her online shop went up in public.

Marinette opted to wear a white graphic shirt underneath an open mint-green knit cardigan jacket, high-waisted denim pants, and her low-cut black converse shoes. She also made sure to carry a small backpack that could at least carry her sketchbook and pencils, among other valuables.

Just about ten minutes away before her train is supposed to arrive, another one does and opens its doors to allow some of its passengers to get off. As they do, she looks through one of the windows and sees –

‘Adrien.’

As if sensing her eyes on him, the blond looks up from his phone and waves at her from his seat. He looks radiant as always, wearing a mustard-coloured vintage shirt over a plain black shirt, black skinny jeans, and what appears to be black vans if she can trust her eyes. He waves at her and it somehow has his body swaying left and right as well, and other passengers sitting near him notices this and her (she who has his attention) find it amusing. A bit abashed at the sudden draw of attention because of him, she waves back albeit with less enthusiasm and offers him a crooked smile. This makes Adrien grin, but his waving finally stops. His mouth opens as if to say or mouth something to her, only for his train to suddenly jolt and move forward. He shrugs and waves again, this time to say good-bye. Marinette waves back but is unsure if he saw it as the window is already out of sight. Her train soon arrives and as she gets in and takes a seat next to an older man busy talking on his phone, she ponders.

She comes to a decision that she’ll be brave this time and waits until class is done. She knows he’s free for the rest of the day today, and bites her lips thinking how things will go from then. Time ticks and ticks and ticks and ticks, until she hears other students start packing up and zipping their bags, and the professor telling them that his office hours might be changed and to wait for his email.

“Adrien,” her voice quivers a little and hopes that he doesn’t hear it the like she does, “can I…talk to you for a sec?”

He’s trying to fit his laptop into his bag, but he’s attentive enough to actually look at her with a smile. “Sure. No one’s going to use this classroom after ours so, we could stay here.” He finally succeeds playing tetris with his belongings, his body relaxing as he faces her.

“Hey dudes, you coming?” Nino asks as he stands by the doorway.

“Oh, u-uh…”

“Mind if we meet you at the cafeteria later, Nino? Marinette just wants to talk to me.”

“Yeah… it’ll be quick, Nino.”

Said friend narrows his eyes in suspicion but relents anyway and shrugs as he walks out of the door. “See ya later, dudes.” The door closes, and Marinette has never felt more trapped until now. And probably, maybe a little suffocated.

“You wanted to talk to me, Mari?”

“Year, I mean yeah.” She looks at him and can’t help but admire how handsome he looks, even in just a Christmas tree green knit sweater over a light blue plaid collared long sleeve shirt, and jeans. He places his hands on the desk behind him as he leans on it.

“You look good, by the way. Your dress is just as good as everything you’ve designed, Marinette.” she feels proud that he has his approval: a high neck and asymmetrically flared dress in navy blue floral patterns, long dolman sleeves, and belted at the waist. She also has black tights on to keep her legs warm. The weather was slowly getting colder.

“Thanks. Appreciate it.” Her hands find each other, fingers fidgeting and pinching the other. She struggles to look at him directly without making a mistake. “Okay, listen…” her hands distract themselves further by playing with the belt. “You’re an amazing person, Adrien. Sometimes I ask myself I’m dreaming for being this lucky to be a part of your life. And for a while, I’ve been feeling things that made me act strange around you. I just kept ignoring and denying it, until I just couldn’t. But now, I have to be honest with myself, and more importantly with you. I’m really glad we met, or that you chose the seat beside me. I’m also glad that we got to be friends and know each other even more.” She takes a deep breath and continues. “I like talking to you, I like laughing at your jokes, I like when you smile at just about everything, I like how you could go on talking about your cat, I like how you’re so kind to everyone even if some don’t deserve it, I like making my notes for you in class with little doodles to encourage you, I like spending time with you, but most of all,” she walks close to him, leaving only but a few inches of space between them. “I really reallylike you, Adrien.” She looks up at him, and she cups his cheeks as she stands on her toes and leans and kisses him.

She kisses him gently like how a snowflake touches your nose, how a cat gently pats you with their paw in reassurance, or how a ladybug’s little legs kiss the leaf it lands on. She kisses him gently, and it only lasts for a few seconds.

She lets him go, but her brows furrow when she sees the shock painted on his face. His mouth slowly opens, his eyes trailing to her, and his right hand goes to cover his mouth. The very same mouth she just kissed. He stays silent for one, two, three, four, five seconds. Marinette steps back in realization.

“M-Marinette. I…I didn’t…I don’t…” his eyes fail to maintain contact with hers, instead looking everywhere else that isn’t her. He misses how embarrassment turns to guilt turns to shame turns to hurt turns to sadness on her face, but never anger. Adrien does not deserve anger if he doesn’t like her. Not like that. And maybe never like that. So, Marinette overthinks and overthinks and overthinks and overthinks – before she hurriedly grabs her belongings and heads for the door. Adrien doesn’t seem to be moving or even aware of the state she’s in when she looks back at him. It’s as if he doesn’t want to look at her, but she knows what his lack of response means. Actions speak louder than words, she remembers Juleka telling her. “I’m sorry, I just thought…” she swallows the lump in her throat and looks everywhere that’s not him to keep the tears at bay. What exactly did she think? “Just forget it.” She leaves without a good-bye, but wonders if tomorrow is the start of unfriendliness and distance and silence between them. The opposite of everything they had until now. The door shuts, and Adrien still refuses to move.

Nino later receives a text from Marinette, saying she had to leave because she forgot to do an errand (which is to cry her heart out for being foolish and ambitious), while Adrien is lost in his thoughts.

Before anyone kills me, Adrienette is endgame here. But first, we must suffer.

[uupiic]

Reverse AU: tell me about Martha

Oooof, so this took a while.

I prefer not to think of where she is from, exactly, seeing how I recycle OCs that have the luck to be created for fandoms, either because the franchise fell out of favour with me or because the character had to die ~~**~for the purpose of drama and angst~**~~ (Martha, baby, I’m sorry…) Honestly, in this, she’s from somewhere in the Highlands (like that makes it any clearer, orz).

Martha is smol, but strong (ง'̀-‘́)ง She has to be, since techs have to create their magic from scrap, literally, for it to even function. She can lift people and carry them around easily, if she so pleased. Jacques finds himself a target for this frequently.

She pretty much comes from a line of techs, so there was not even a question as to what she should concentrate on, in her studies. If a family member, perchance, has no magical abilities, they usually end up as smiths. That’s just how they roll, family traditions are important to them, and technomancy is considered one of the most difficult disciplines to study, alongside with necromancy and summoning (and I am not saying a certain wizard is a show-off… but a certain wizard is a show-off), not counting the one that is no longer even taught, as, just like the aforementioned, it can get out of hand really fast. Seriously, nobody wants to be on the receiving end of a batshit insane iron statue coming at them full speed. After a few accidents, one of which wrecked havoc in her teacher’s kitchen, she resorted to limiting her magic to a certain range, so all she has to do if it does get out of hand, is to get out of that range - and hope the thing is not galloping towards her at full speed.

Back home, her family are considered something along the lines of protectors of their town, so it’s pretty much a question of honour for her to make her creations capable of fighting off intruders and random raiders that might drop by. You’ve not known horror until there’s a robot rabbit trying to chew at your throat.

Martha doesn’t have much experience with animals, save for cats and dogs, and so she frequently gets surprised about the animals she builds not behaving the way she thinks that animal should behave. It can be a bit of a problem sometimes. Occasionally, she makes them strange or unnerving on purpose, if only to see people’s reaction.

She is always on the lookout for new, strange things, and she’d happily attempt to merge disciplines if she was allowed to do that. Honestly? Had she survived to graduate, she would so have attempted. What the magisters don’t know won’t hurt them, right?

Martha definitely has the ability to foresee future, but it’s literally one level above common gut feeling, so she either isn’t aware she has it or she just blissfully ignores it. In any case, she thinks that it’s rubbish anyway, as she would much rather tackle a problem at hand than dwell on a possible thing that might or might not happen. Predicting future is considered more or less pseudo-magic anyway among the practitioners of magic, due to how uncertain and easy to sway it is, so very little people would actually bother to study it.

She’s definitely the one to cover for Zarg in case a joke got out of hand. That thing with the lizard on the loose in the big hall was the funniest shit she’d ever seen.

And I should probably mention she’s aro ace. Flirtation attempts get shut down, sometimes by the means of a fist in the gut, if people get too pushy.