#think small cat being grumpy in the corner

[thirteenheavens]

Svt reacting to wonwoo gf being the complete opposite of him

But they go so well together like orange cat x black cat duo

Like Day and Night|| Jeon Wonwoo

Word count:800+

Notes: such a cute one hope you enjoy anon!

Wonwoo leads you into the room where his bandmates are gathered, his hand gently holding yours. They all turn to look at you, their eyes widening in surprise. Mingyu is the first to speak up, his voice filled with disbelief. "Wonwoo, you actually brought someone?"

Wonwoo nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes, this is Y/N," he says, introducing you to the group. The members exchange glances, clearly not expecting Wonwoo to be dating someone so vibrant and outgoing. They all say their hellos, but you can sense their curiosity and confusion.

"So, how did you two meet?" Jun asks, his eyes flicking between you and Wonwoo. Wonwoo tightens his grip on your hand slightly. "We met at a cafe," he replies simply. "She's... different from me." Minghao nods in agreement. "Yeah, we can definitely see that," he says with a chuckle. "You're like night and day."

The other members continue to observe you, their expressions a mix of amusement and fascination. Wonwoo seems slightly uncomfortable with their reactions, but he keeps a protective arm around your waist. The members start asking you questions, clearly eager to get to know the woman who has captured Wonwoo's heart.

"So, Y/N," Mingyu begins. "How do you handle Wonwoo's quietness? He's always so serious." You smile at him, squeezing Wonwoo's hand reassuringly. "It's not hard at all," you reply. "I just talk enough for both of us." The members laugh at your response, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes slightly, but there's a hint of a smile on his face.

"Do you ever get tired of him being so broody?" Seungkwan asks jokingly. You shake your head. "Not at all. I actually find it endearing," you say, looking up at Wonwoo with a playful grin. "He's like a grumpy cat that secretly loves cuddles." Wonwoo scowls at you, but you can tell he's secretly amused by your comparison. The other members chuckle again, clearly enjoying the banter between you and Wonwoo.

As the night goes on, the drinks continue to flow and the atmosphere becomes more relaxed. The members start to loosen up around you, and you can see them warming up to your bubbly personality. Seungkwan, in particular, seems to be enjoying your company. He keeps making jokes and engaging you in conversation, and you find yourself laughing at his antics.

"I like her," Seungkwan says to Wonwoo, a wide grin on his face. "She's a lot of fun." Wonwoo nods, a small smile on his lips. "Yeah, she is," he agrees, his arm still wrapped around your waist.

The other members join in on the conversation, sharing stories and jokes with you. You can feel Wonwoo's eyes on you as you interact with his friends, but he seems content to just watch you enjoy yourself. Seungkwan challenges you to a game of charades, and you enthusiastically agree. He hands you a piece of paper with a word written on it, and the rest of the members gather around to watch.

"Alright, Y/N," Seungkwan says. "You have to act out this word without saying it." You unfold the paper and read the word: "Tiger." You grin mischievously, knowing that you're going to have to be extra dramatic to get the members to guess correctly. You start by pretending to be a tiger, crouching down and making clawing motions with your hands. You roar loudly, earning a round of laughter from the group.

"Is it a lion?" Mingyu guesses.

"No, no," you say, shaking your head. "Think more animal-like." Wonwoo watches you intently, a small smile playing on his lips as he tries to figure out what animal you're impersonating.

Hoshi suddenly shouts out, "Tiger!" You stop your performance and point at him excitedly. "Yes! That's it!" you exclaim, jumping up and down in excitement.

The members cheer and clap for Hoshi, impressed by his quick guess. Seungkwan pouts playfully. "How did you know so fast?" he asks, crossing his arms. Hoshi grins smugly. "I have good instincts when it comes to tigers," he says, puffing out his chest. "Plus, Y/N's acting was very convincing."

Wonwoo chuckles softly, clearly amused by your performance. He leans in to whisper in your ear. "You're really good at this," he says, his breath tickling your skin. Wonwoo's smile widens as he kisses your cheek, a rare display of affection in front of his friends. The members notice the gesture and start to tease him.

"Look at Wonwoo being all sweet," Mingyu teases, nudging him in the side. Wonwoo rolls his eyes again, but he doesn't deny it. He keeps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

"Shut up," he mutters, though there's no real annoyance in his voice. Seungkwan smirks. "I never thought I'd see the day when Wonwoo would be all lovey-dovey with someone," he says. "It's adorable." You giggle at their teasing, enjoying the way Wonwoo is acting so possessive yet flustered. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling content and happy in his embrace.

[starry-mang0s]

Why is he angy? No idea. He just is.

[mugglebornmarvelite]

Golden Retriever, Black Cat

Paring: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader (Golden Retriever energy x Black Cat energy)

Summary: Based on this request + a lewd comment that a guy made about me in a skirt when I was 16. 

Word Count: Roughly 1.6k 

Warnings: Fluff, comfort, some cursing, mentions of jumping bones, a misogynistic comment from a co-worker 

Author’s Note: Just a cutesy little story for you. If you have a specific idea in mind that you would like for me to work on, please let me know :)

Navigation

After getting home and slipping your shoes off, you huffed, immediately looking for Peter. Your Peter. 

You found him in the kitchen. Looking deliciously handsome as always, you wanted to jump his bones, almost forgetting about your annoyance.

You grumbled and greeted him with whispered words and a tight hug.

Noting that you were uncharacteristically quiet, he gave you a small smile. “Hi, bug. How was your day?”

That’s all you need to hear to go off on a tangent.

“And then,” you said, throwing your hands up, “this asshole, this fucking buffoon, had the audacity to tell me I didn’t know what I was talking about and procceded to mansplain the topic to me. Me!” You spun around, narrowing your eyes at him as though Peter was the one who had offended you. “Can you believe that? I’ve studied for years, and he spoke over me like I was some kid who didn't know the difference between a psychology term and a pizza topping. The nerve of that dickhead.”  

Peter leaned casually against the counter, his glasses slipping down his nose, and he rested them on the counter. He observed you with that soft, amused smile that made his brown doe eyes sparkle, listening to your every word. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed, but you could see how his lips twitched as he held back a laugh.  

“Not at all, sweetheart,” he said, his voice warm and patient. “You’re always right. We should all be grateful to be in your presence.”  

You froze mid-pace and whirled around, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don’t patronize me, Parker,” you snapped, your voice sharp, like a hiss from a cat whose tail had been stepped on.  

Peter pushed off the counter, that damn grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth as he took a step closer. “I’m not,” he said with a soft chuckle, his voice dropping into something impossibly sweet. “I just think you’re perfect. My pretty girl.”  

Your cheeks flared with heat. Even in the middle of a rant, Peter knew how to both fluster you and ease your blood pressure. 

But you, being you, never liked to immediately give him the satisfaction of seeing you melt. It would only grow his massive ego.

You crossed your arms defensively, your cheeks puffing out in a soft pout. “Stop calling me that,” you muttered, eyes darting anywhere but his. You couldn’t handle the intensity of his gaze.  

“Why?” Peter tilted his head as he closed the space between you. His fingers, warm and gentle, tilted your chin up. Your resolve faltered as you looked into his warm brown eyes. “You are my pretty girl. My bug. My sweetheart.” His voice was teasing, but there was so much affection behind it that you couldn’t help but feel your defenses crumbling.  

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” you grumbled, turning your face away slightly to hide your smile from him. The last thing you wanted was for him to know that he was winning.  

Peter, of course, noticed anyway. He always did. That beautiful, beautiful fucker.

He laughed, that melodic sound that made your heart do summersaults, and pulled you into his arms. His big, warm hands settled against your back, pulling you close as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Your tried your hardest not to bury your face in his warm sweater. His scent. You didn’t know how much longer you could resist jumping on him.

“And you’re my favorite person,” he murmured against your hair, his voice so soft and steady it felt like a heartbeat in your chest. “Even when you’re grumpy.”  

“I’m not grumpy,” you muttered half-heartedly, the words losing all meaning as you melted into his embrace.  

“Whatever you say, bug,” Peter teased, squeezing you a little tighter. You rolled your eyes, but when he tilted your chin up again and kissed your forehead, all you could do was sigh.  

He melted off all of the anger from your body. Almost.

You were still annoyed by what the asshole said to you.

"I should have punched that sorry excuse for a human in the face for what he said to me when I was walking out." You whispered into his chest, not expecting him to hear you.

But your boyfriend had spidey senses.

Peter’s smile faltered, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What was that, bug?” His arms tightened around you slightly, the protective shift in his energy not lost on you.  

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, biting the inside of your cheek. You hated admitting when something bothered you, but Peter’s gentle yet intense stare made it impossible to brush him off.  

“What did he say?” Peter persisted, his voice low, almost dangerous.  

You tried to shrug it off, trying to mask your vulnerability under his scrutiny. “It’s nothing, Pete. I handled it. Told him off before I walked out. It doesn’t matter. I’m just being pissy.”  

But Peter didn’t let go. His hands remained firmly on your waist, and his eyes bore into yours, unyielding. “Bug,” he said, his voice quieter but no less intense. “That’s not ‘nothing.’ What exactly did he say?”  

You hesitated, your heart thumping louder than your words. You knew how protective Peter could be. His love could feel like a force of nature when it came to you.  

“He said...” you trailed off, your voice dropping to a whisper. “He said I was only good for my ass in a skirt.”  

Peter’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. His body stiffened. The gentle, golden retriever energy that usually defined him shifted into something possessive and protective. His jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, his grip on you becoming more solid like he was anchoring you against the storm rising within him.  

The muscles in his arms flexing, but never to cause you pain. He stepped back, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “That’s not okay,” he muttered, pacing now, clearly worked up. “No one gets to talk to you like that. Not ever.”  

You crossed your arms, leaning against the counter, watching him pace. “What are you gonna do, swing by his office in the suit and web him to the wall?”  

“If I have to, yes,” Peter retorted without missing a beat. His voice was firm, his tone serious, and his golden retriever energy took on a new intensity. “He’s scum for disrespecting you like that, he’s lucky I wasn’t there.”  

You snorted, your cheeks warming at his protectiveness, though your sarcasm couldn’t help but bleed through. “You’re ridiculous, you know that? A total goofball. A clown. No! The whole damn circus, Pete.”  

Peter turned back to face you, his playful grin reappearing. “Maybe,” he said, stepping closer again, his hands cupping your face this time, his large, warm palms practically enveloping you. “But you’re my girl. No one gets to talk about you like that.”  

The softness in his voice made your sarcasm catch in your throat, and for a moment, you were simply still, surrendering to his care. You melted under his touch, your black cat energy momentarily vanishing in the face of his gentle love.  

“You’re too good for me, Parker,” you murmured, your eyes downcast.  

“Not true,” Peter said immediately, tilting your face so you couldn’t escape his gaze. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Life would lose all of its meaning without you.”  

You sighed, finally leaning into him, your grumpy exterior cracking more. “Fine,” you muttered. “But if you’re gonna be this annoyingly sweet, at least don’t stand there looking stupidly handsome.”  

Peter laughed, and you felt yourself soften even further. “You’re impossible,” he said, pulling you into another hug. His golden retriever warmth surrounded you once more, and all you could do was let yourself sink into the comfort of his arms.  

“And you love it,” you teased, your lips curling up into a grin.  

“Always,” Peter said, kissing the top of your head as he held you close, his love wrapping around you like the safest, warmest blanket you could ever imagine. 

Later that night, you were cooking dinner and Peter silently snuck up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on top of your head.

You sighed, leaning back into him.

“What’re you making, bug?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, easing away any leftover tension in your body.

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” you hummed as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

Everything felt perfectly calm for a moment, just the sound of bubbling sauce and the warmth of his embrace.

That peace didn’t last long. It never has since Peter Parker stumbled into your life.

Peter spun you around to face him in one swift motion, his hands sliding lower along your sides.

“That guy was a prick for saying that about you,” he said flatly.

Peter’s grin shifted to something more playful as he looked you up and down. His large, warm hands squeeze you through your yoga pants. “But I will say, because I can say, that your ass is lovely.”

Your cheeks instantly turned pink, and you swatted at him with the dish towel. “Pete!”

He laughed a carefree sound that made your heart flutter. “What? I’m just admiring the view. My view. My favorite view.”

You rolled your eyes, but despite the teasing, you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your lips.

Peter Parker was going to be the death of you. Oh, but what a way to go out.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

[scarletwinterxx]

the grumpy cat's secret soft side - chwe hansol imagine

hiiii ~ tbh i liveeee for the black cat turn into golden retriever type of guy🥺😭😅 this one is soooo cute, i hope you like it🤍 i’m trying to make up for being gone in the past weeks hence why the back to back posts.

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’re hanging out with your friends at a café, and, as usual, Vernon is sitting at a corner table, a frown fixed on his face. His arms are crossed, his eyes barely leaving the book he's reading, and his presence is just… intense. You know the drill—no one dares to approach him unless absolutely necessary.

Your friends chatter away, but their eyes keep flicking toward Vernon, trying to gauge the seriousness of his aura. You can practically hear them whispering:

"Does he even smile? He looks like he's plotting something dark."

"I bet he has some secret double life where he's a villain or something."

You roll your eyes, amused by the misconception. Sure, Vernon has this reputation of being the "grumpy cat". The guy who scowls at anyone who dares to speak to him but you know the real Vernon. The one who’s soft, playful, and okay, maybe a little too clingy when you're alone.

You sip your coffee, trying not to laugh at the thought of what they would say if they knew. They think Vernon is all sharp edges and cool indifference, but when it’s just the two of you? He’s a total golden retriever.

Later, the café empties out, and it’s just you and Vernon. You lean against the table, watching him flick through his book, clearly trying to seem like he's deep in thought.

"You know, you should really smile once in a while. People are starting to think you're some kind of cold-hearted villain."

He grunts in response, his eyes not leaving the pages "I don’t need to impress anyone. Why pretend to be something I’m not?"

You can feel the smile tugging at your lips. If only they knew how dramatically different he was when no one else was around. Just the other night, he’d insisted on cooking you dinner and then gotten mad at the TV when you laughed at a cooking show he didn’t even like. 

And the way his voice softens when he talks to you? Don’t even get you started.

"Mhm, sure. Just make sure no one sees you with your 'scary' persona, or they'll think you’re a supervillain." you tease him, a playful smile on your face

Vernon finally looks up at you, raising an eyebrow.

"You do realize you're the only one who gets to see me not acting like a 'villain,' right?"

You grin, taking a casual sip from your drink.

"Yeah, lucky me."

Fast forward to a few days later. You're out with Vernon and a few friends, walking through the park when you trip over a crack in the pavement. It's not that big of a fall, but you scrape your knee, and it stings just a little.

No one notices at first—except Vernon. His eyes snap to you, and you can see the panic flicker across his face. 

Before you can even fully recover from the stumble, he’s already by your side, crouching down with an expression that can only be described as dramatic concern.

"Oh my god, are you okay?! Did you hurt yourself?"

You blink, slightly surprised at how intense he’s reacting. He’s usually so calm in public, but now his eyes are wide, his hand hovering near your knee like he’s afraid even the slightest touch might cause more harm.

"It’s just a scrape, Vernon. I’m fine." you stutter, still surprised by his actions

He shakes his head vigorously, ignoring your reassurances, his face completely serious.

"No. You’re not. You're bleeding, and... you’re my responsibility!"

You blink at him wide eyed, "It’s really just a small scratch. It's not like—"

"Small?!" He looks at the tiniest red mark like it’s an open wound that could be fatal. His voice grows louder. "You’re going to need a bandage! I’ll—I'll carry you home!"

You can’t help but laugh at how over the top he’s being. The guy who looks like he’s plotting world domination in front of others is now losing it over a scraped knee. But he doesn’t seem to find it funny at all.

"Do not laugh! You’re injured, and this is serious business." he scolds you, already helping you up still chuckling, as he holds out his arms like he’s ready to scoop you up at any moment.

"I don’t need you to carry me, Vernon. I can walk." you assure him

"I insist." 

He’s so dramatic about it that it almost seems like he’s going to faint from the sheer concern he’s radiating.

"Is he seriously offering to carry you?" Dino asks, watching the whole scene

“What the hell is happening?" Seungkwan mumbles

You hear your friends muttering from the sidelines, their voices full of surprise, and you can’t help but smirk. This is the first time they’ve seen Vernon act this way, and they’re all shook by it.

"Vernon, seriously. I’m fine!"

But he’s already kneeling in front of you, looking up at you with wide, concerned eyes, ready to scoop you up into his arms like you're the most fragile thing in the world.

"Nope. I’m not risking it. Let’s go home. You need rest, and I need to make sure you’re not going to pass out or something."

You can’t hold back your laughter anymore."You're impossible."

"I’m just trying to keep you safe."

You finally let him win, letting him gently lift you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world, completely ignoring the curious stares from everyone else around. And despite how embarrassing this all is, you can’t deny it. You love how much Vernon cares about you. The "grumpy cat" persona is a total act.

You lean your head on his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

"You know, I’ve never seen this side of you before."

"Good. Keep it that way. I’m only like this for you, got it?" voice full of seriousness

"Got it."

And in that moment, you realize, as much as Vernon tries to hide it from the world, he’s completely smitten with you—and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[toribellsa]

Secret lovers au

Lando arrives at the McLaren base not in the best mood after the summer break. The vacation was wonderful, especially the part he spent in an apartment in Monaco with his boyfriend by his side. Lazy morning awakenings, lounging in bed, tender embraces, and countless kisses (Lando would bet he kissed every mole on Oscar's body at least four times), cozy and relaxed Oscar in his kitchen, bedroom, and living room in his usual short shorts that did little to hide the soft curves of his thighs — it was all perfect. But...

Wait, wait, wait. Lando needs to stop right now before his mind throws up a couple of hot memories. Otherwise, it will be very hard to explain to those around him why he was so energized by returning to work.

In general, the vacation went splendidly until Oscar reminded him that he planned to visit his parents in Australia while Lando and Max were busy with their cultural party program during the break. Lando and Max had indeed planned to hang out with friends during the summer break, just like they had done in all previous years, to divert suspicion. Max was the only one who knew about Lando and Oscar's relationship and actively helped keep it under wraps.

Initially, the idea of going on a trip seemed great to them. The many people who saw and photographed Lando with Max created excellent cover. After all, no one could suspect that behind the doors of hotel rooms, Lando behaved like a grumpy cat kept away from its beloved owner. He grumbled about not being able to have a proper conversation with Oscar due to the time difference; they were limited to texting and short calls before the Australian went to sleep. Only Max could listen to his woes. Oscar even joked that he now owed Max an expensive gift for putting up with Lando.

The hardest part for Lando was that Oscar wasn't physically there. During those weeks they spent together, he had grown accustomed to feeling Oscar's warmth under his hand, to his soft fluffy hair that had grown since the beginning of the season. He missed the slightly calloused feel of Oscar's palm in his hand, which also wasn't perfect due to countless training sessions for the team. Lando remembered the firmness of Oscar's broad shoulder when he rested his chin on it while hugging him from behind. He recalled the slenderness of Oscar's waist under his hands when he pulled him close for kissing sessions and the weight of Oscar on his lap when their kisses ignited into something more.

In short, Lando missed him terribly and wanted his boyfriend back immediately. During the trip, he regretted his decision more than once. He should have just stayed in Monaco or gone with Oscar to Melbourne. And now their team meeting in Woking was supposed to be the first since their separation since Lando's flight had only arrived late last night due to scheduling errors. Lando was damn angry about it because he had stolen time from himself that he could have spent alone with Oscar before the season started again when they would have to act as if the team was all that connected them.

With these thoughts in mind, Lando spots a familiar back ahead that he would recognize among a thousand others. The familiar hoodie, the familiar slope of shoulders, and of course, that familiar fluffy head with a "just got out of bed" hairstyle. A warm feeling spreads through his chest. Oscar decided to meet him. A soft smile appears on Lando's lips at the thought that they might steal a few minutes for themselves. This wouldn't be their first time hiding away in secluded corners, so he doesn't think twice when he takes a decisive step toward Oscar.

— God, Osk, baby, I've missed you so damn much! — Lando whispers heatedly as he wraps his arms around his boyfriend's waist and pulls him close as if wanting to merge into one whole being. He closes his eyes and presses his lips against Oscar's neck, leaving small kisses there. — I thought I would die if I spent even one more day away from you.

Lando’s hands slide lower from Oscar’s waist down to his thighs when he hears a surprised muffled sound and opens his eyes wide in fright. Right in front of them stands Zak with an expressionless face; Andrea looks surprised and slightly awkward (Lando suspects that sound came from their team principal); and Mark fucking Webber looks like he's about to have a heart attack but will first dismember Lando and scatter his remains across all 24 Grand Prix locations. Out of the corner of his eye, Lando notices that Oscar in his arms resembles a ripe tomato by the color of his face; Lando can clearly see embarrassment and slight panic on it. Oops.

— Can we explain everything? — Now Lando’s voice sounds unnaturally high-pitched, and his tone is more questioning than assertive. This is not how he and Oscar wanted to tell their team about their relationship when the time came — not at all like this. Oscar, still in his arms, weakly nods as if trying to lend some confidence to Lando’s words.

Zak wearily rubs his forehead and waves toward his office, beckoning them to follow him there. Andrea gives them an oddly reassuring smile and steps closer to pat both on their shoulders.

It seems this will be a very long (and embarrassing) conversation.

[samstree]

In New Light

post-canon obikin, 4k words, rated G. AO3 link here

The cat stares at Obi-Wan, blinking slowly with curious eyes.

“Well. Hello, there.”

Obi-Wan greets the creature at his door, staring back. The cat has sleek, black fur all over, except for the white streak on the side of his face. He is much smaller than a Loth-cat, with much shorter fur too. Possibly a less common sub-species of the tooka. He has blue eyes instead of yellow like most black cats, and oh—he’s missing a front leg.

A pang of sympathy swells in Obi-Wan chest. The poor thing. Where has he come from? Who is his owner? Did he wander all the way from the lower levels of Coruscant and into the Temple? Did he get injured because he’s a stray?

The cat sits on his tail, looking straight up as Obi-Wan crouches down before him.

“Hello, dear,” he greets the small creature again, this time in a much gentler tone. “Now, how have you wandered to my door?”

The cat meows, tilting his head, studying Obi-Wan for a moment before jumping right into his lap, making him let out a surprised sound. The missing leg does not hinder the little creature’s mobility, and he seems to have comfortably curled up against Obi-Wan’s stomach.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan says. When the cat meows in return, he answers, “I know, dear. I know.”

-

The cat follows him for the entire day.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here at the creche? The younglings will love you. I’m sure they already do.”

The small, dark creature hisses as a Togruta child attempts to pet him on the head, the rejection clear as day.

“Hmm.”

Obi-Wan cannot help but remember an equally grumpy padawan in the same situation. Anakin was fifteen when he was put on creche duty for the first time, and the boy all but jumped when the small children tried to hug him. The storm cloud remained on his face for a week despite the shower of affection from the younglings.

A smile comes to Obi-Wan’s face at the memory of Anakin’s teenage years, before it falls flat at the corners of his mouth.

There is no use thinking about it now.

Anakin already left.

He could never stay, not after what was revealed at the end of the war��Palpatine fooled everyone, and especially Anakin. The hurt ran too deep and too intertwined with the Order. It was a good thing that Anakin chose to resign after the Sith was destroyed, finding his independence, figuring out who he is outside of being a Jedi. He needed the distance, and it’s good he never looked back.

It’s a good thing, Obi-Wan tells himself again.

The cat has jumped to the top of Obi-Wan’s shoulder with a displeased sound, right before burrowing into his neck and rubbing his face against Obi-Wan’s skin. The motion makes it look like the small creature is trying to soothe him, which is ridiculous. It’s not like Obi-Wan is sad.

“Come on,” he says, petting the cat on the head and getting another quiet meow in answer. “You are not staying, are you? Well, then. Let’s get going.”

-

He dreams of Anakin that night. Again.

“Oh, dear heart. I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan apologizes to the image of Anakin conjured up by his mind. “It must be from those thoughts of you during the day.”

Dream-Anakin sits cross-legged on what used to be his favorite futon, a bright, ethereal aura shimmering around him. That’s how Obi-Wan knows he’s dreaming.

It’s how he always knows.

The Anakin in his dreams always looks the same. With tousled hair and youthful features, a slight tightness around his eyes, worn down by war and grief. He also wears the same clothes every time, the dark Jedi robes that has become his staple, but singed at the hem from battle. He didn’t stay long enough at the Temple to change out of them after defeating the Sith.

It’s what Anakin looked like when they said goodbye for the last time. At the hangar bay, Obi-Wan watched this version of Anakin close the door of his shuttle.

He stayed there for hours afterwards.

“Why are you apologizing?” Anakin frowns.

Strange. Obi-Wan has never seen him frown in a dream.

Anakin has also never looked different. He seems…older, the lines of his face sharpened with maturity, those familiar curls cut short and parted to the other way. He is still the same man, but it’s almost like the years they spent apart are showing on his face.

Oh, how these dreams torment him.

“For this dream, of course,” Obi-Wan explains patiently, despite the well of sadness overflowing in his heart. He’ll always have patience for his former padawan, even when it’s only a figment of his imagination. “It’s a clear sign of attachment. Attachment I should have acknowledged and let go when you left.”

“When I left, of course,” Anakin murmurs, looking away. “A perfect Jedi like you must have gotten over it immediately. What was I thinking?”

Anakin’s voice trails into a quiet tremble, a crestfallen look written all over his face. It suddenly makes Obi-Wan unsure of himself—he never wants to make Anakin sad.

“No, Anakin… I—” Obi-Wan starts, “I merely meant that—I should have let go. It was… it would have been the right thing to do.”

“Was it really?”

Tears trail down Anakin’s cheek, glistening in the bright light of the dream.

When Obi-Wan wakes up to the shimmering morning light, he wipes away the wetness on his face. There is no peace to be found in the Force, so Obi-Wan gets up and pads towards the living room.

The cat is sound asleep, curled into a perfect ball on Anakin’s futon.

-

“Do you have an owner?”

Obi-Wan is mostly thinking out loud as the cat licks at the blue milk, pouring another serving into the plate when a whine prompts him.

“Possibly, but there is no collar.” He touches his beard, humming absently. “I still don’t understand how you got here. There’s a long way from the lower levels to my quarters.”

The cat stretches contently when he’s done eating, soon beginning to find anything and everything in Obi-Wan’s room to be the most interesting thing.

“Hey, not those drawers. That’s where Anakin kept his tools.”

He really should have cleared those out, but alas. A ball of electrical cords has become the cat’s new favorite toy.

“No, not the spanner—that’s too heavy for you! Stars, don’t leave a mess everywhere!”

Heedless of Obi-Wan’s warnings, the creature has spilled out all of Anakin’s old things across the floor and is having the time of his life. Obi-Wan can only sigh while cleaning after him. It is only when the cat starts to push his tea collection off the kitchen counter when he has to intervene.

“No, not those! Leave an old man with his favorite tea, will you?” From the scowl on the cat’s face, the little guy doesn’t seem to care. “You’re as frustrating as a certain padawan of mine, my new friend.”

With that, the cat stops in his tracks, jumps off the kitchen counter nimbly, and looks up at Obi-Wan with those big, rounded eyes.

“Perhaps I should name you Padawan, with the way you are behaving,” Obi-Wan huffs, but there is no real anger in his voice.

In truth, he doesn’t mind the little mess. His quarters have been immaculately clean for years, but it never looks right. The disarray somehow fills a part inside his chest that he didn’t know was missing.

“You think I’m jesting, but I assure you I am not,” Obi-Wan continues sternly, holding himself like the Jedi master he is. “It’s not like that role will be filled any time soon. You will do just fine.”

He doesn’t want to think about the perpetual void left in his life. Obi-Wan will never have another padawan again, not after the way he failed Anakin. He has made his peace with it.

He really has. He just needs to breathe through the ache that creeps into every fiber of his being on every lonely night.

A sad meow, as if in sympathy. Obi-Wan bends down to pick up the cat and sits himself on the floor by the window, letting the sunbeam warm the both of them.

“No, I won’t call you Padawan, then. I don’t think…” he swallows, smiling tightly at the creature as he gets comfortable. “I don’t think I can bear it.”

Those big blue feline eyes are so round, the irises are nearly disappearing. Somehow, the unusual blue eyes of the cat bring him a sense of unnamed reassurance. He would have found it disturbing, if they were yellow.

“Well then, I guess I’ll be the one to take care of you. Not as a master, but a friend. It’s a dangerous world out there if you’re alone. There is no one protecting you.” Obi-Wan strokes the sleek, black fur as the cat falls asleep in his lap. The creature doesn’t shy away when he touches the stump where the front leg should be. “Is that how you got hurt? Because you were out there by yourself?”

All the answer he gets is a gentle rub against his stomach.

“I wish I was there with you,” he murmurs to himself, the numb emptiness in his chest tinging with regret. “I wish I could have protected you.”

Obi-Wan falls asleep with the cat curled against his chest, the purring guiding him into a peaceful dream land.

-

Dream-Anakin sits by the window with the sunlight on his back, his expression inexplicably sad.

“Why won’t you take another padawan, master?”

They are so close together, the sun lining the tips of Anakin’s lashes gold. Obi-Wan could easily reach out and touch him. So he does.

It’s a dream, after all. There is no point in shaming himself for wanting.

The short curls feel good between Obi-Wan’s fingers, but he’s still getting used to the new look. He is spotting all the minute differences about this version of Anakin—the mature steadfastness, the lightness in his eyes, the stubble grown under his chin.

“I’m still not sure about the hair,” Obi-Wan tries to change the subject. If it’s his dream, he gets to be cheeky, he reckons. “Will you consider showing up in the long hair next time? Just for your old master’s sake.”

“Obi-Wan.”

A sigh, and Obi-Wan tries to retract his hand, but Anakin catches him gently. The warmth of his flesh hand is as real as the Force humming in the air.

“Why would they trust me with another small child?” Obi-Wan finally says. “I wouldn’t trust myself.”

The offence on Anakin’s face is palpable. “You are the best master out there. Anyone would be lucky to have you!”

Obi-Wan laughs self-deprecatingly. “I’m sure you’d disagree.”

“Well, I’m right here, and I say you’re perfect!”

It’s ironic that the Anakin from his subconscious would defend him so, when the real Anakin knows more than anyone of Obi-Wan’s failure.

“I lost you, Anakin,” he simply says.

It ends the argument. Anakin closes his mouth, the sadness returning to his blue eyes.

-

It isn’t too bad, having a feline friend in Obi-Wan’s life.

His quarters seem less empty with a cat in it, along with everything he has added to make his new friend comfortable. The toys are now laid out, along with a new shelf for climbing. The cat bed is placed by the window, but rarely used when the little guy prefers to sleep on either Anakin’s old futon or by the foot of Obi-Wan’s bed. His habit of making a mess quieted down after a period of adjustment, and now Obi-Wan has learned to leave his expensive teas in the cupboard.

The cat loves the house plants, though. Obi-Wan is not sure if he’s imagining it, but his plants have never looked better, growing lusher and greener by the day. He has never been the best at taking care of them. It was Anakin who had a stronger connection to the Living Force.

When the ferns start to droop, the dark fluffy creature would fall asleep under their shade. When he wakes up, the leaves seem to gain new life again.

Obi-Wan also talks to the cat more and more these days.

The dreams persist. Every time he closes his eyes, there is Anakin. Sitting in their living room, or cooking in the kitchen, sometimes even curled up against Obi-Wan’s side in his bed.

Those dreams are the hardest. Obi-Wan’s mind is cruel to let him look at Anakin so closely, only to wake up alone in the quiet dark. The only consolation is the gentle, inquisitive meows of his cat friend.

He lets the furry thing bury his face against his neck to soothe the heartbreak. The pain lets up enough at some point, and he can breathe again. And then, Obi-Wan begins to talk.

He misses Anakin so much that the ache fills all the space inside his chest. If he doesn’t tell someone about it, he fears he will burst from it, and a cat is a good enough listener.

He lets his tongue run freely, trusting his memories to lead them from one story to another, jumping between the years they shared together. The pain and regret have been laying on his heart so heavily that Obi-Wan has nearly forgotten the joy that came with Anakin’s name.

His laughter, his passion, his unrelenting curiosity.

Anakin was his sun, but now, he has no one to share that warmth but a small cat.

“Did you know he cried when I took him to see rain for the first time?” Obi-Wan chuckles at the memory. “He was trying to catch all the raindrops, and when he couldn’t, he started to panic about wasting the water. Poor boy… I should have thought of that and not chosen the rainforest for our first mission.”

Obi-Wan lets out all the love he has kept inside. With only a small creature knowing his worst secret, he has never loved Anakin more freely.

“Do you think he could be in trouble? Knowing Anakin, he must have gotten himself into some sort of conundrum. More than once over the years, I assume. I worry for him too much, I know,” he whispers, letting the cat perch around his shoulders. “He’s too headstrong, too stubborn, much to his own detriment. He always tries to protect everyone, and never learned that he needed protecting too. I… I would have, had he let me.”

He drifts off again, worrying, wondering.

The dream is so warm that Obi-Wan never wishes to leave. He curls around the weight of Anakin’s body, wraps an arm around his waist to pull him even closer.

It feels good to steal these moments, basking in Anakin’s presence, just so he can keep on going in the land of the walking.

“What if I really am in trouble?” Anakin asks with mirth in his eyes. “It’s a big galaxy. I could run into someone dangerous. Say… a witch! Like in those fairytales on the holonet. She cursed me to be trapped in the body of a small animal, and the only way to lift the curse—”

He stops himself, the implication hanging in the air.

Obi-Wan finishes the thought for him, knowing this ridiculous boy and his romantic tendencies.

“True love, is it? The only way to lift the curse,” Obi-Wan says, rubbing their noses together. “I’ll find you, save you from the curse, and we’ll get to live happily ever after.”

Anakin blushes, his lashes cast down. “Yes, just like that. It’s really simple, master.”

Hope shines in Anakin’s eyes, bright and sweet, but Obi-Wan’s heart sinks.

“If only it was, dear heart.”

-

“Can you believe them? Denied!”

Obi-Wan huffs, chest rising and falling from anger. He lets the datapad fall to the sofa. On the screen is his application to take leave from the Temple, big red letters showing Application Denied at the top.

“I’m not even asking for long. It’ll take two—alright, maybe three—months at most! I’m a war general, for Force’s sake. I infiltrated the separatist headquarters! How long is it going to take me to find one person? Just one!”

Artoo’s light flickers, letting out a quiet beep in answer. He doesn’t dare move his dome due to the dark, fluffy creature perched on top of him, tail tucked away cozily. Both droid and cat blink at Obi-Wan as his rant comes to a stop.

It’s almost disturbing how well they are getting along. Obi-Wan has not seen Artoo take a liking to someone, or something, this quickly since Anakin left.

“I just want to see him.” Obi-Wan’s shoulders slump, all the fight leaving his body with resignation. "They are right about me—it’s... it's a sign of attachment. I just…”

A lump forms in his throat, and Obi-Wan turns his head away. It would be embarrassing to cry in front of a droid and a cat, but it’s hard to care when the loneliness overwhelms him like a tide.

Obi-Wan may have been slowly drowning all this time. He’s only realizing now.

-

That night, Obi-Wan silently opens his blanket in silent invitation. Soon enough, a dark lump of fluff enters his bed.

It’s unbefitting of a Jedi of his age and experience to need the comfort of a creature as small and fragile, but when the warmth of the cat curls around his chest, Obi-Wan finds it a little easier to breathe.

When fitful sleep claims him, his fingers are still buried in soft fur, his nose pressed against a fluffy head. His breath hitches from time to time, but a gentle, careful nudge always soothes him.

Dream-Anakin appears from under Obi-Wan’s covers, those dark curls sticking out everywhere as if someone has been ruffling his hair.

“Oh, master… Hey, come here. What’s wrong?”

Anakin’s voice is full of concern. His flesh hand reaches out to cup Obi-Wan’s chin, a thumb running small circles as if he has been preparing to comfort Obi-Wan, and now he finally has the chance.

Wouldn’t that be a nice reality? Anakin being there, always, ready to defend Obi-Wan from the sadness within him.

“They won’t let me come to you,” is Obi-Wan’s answer.

“Oh?”

Their bodies tangle up under the bedcover, fitting into each other like puzzle pieces. The warmth of Anakin gives Obi-Wan strength, so he lets out all the frustration.

“I thought I could see you, just this once. Just to make sure you’re alright. And I know, Anakin, when you left, you wanted nothing to do with the Order. With…” He lets the ache linger, lets Anakin see his hurt. “You wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Not you. Never you.”

A protest, so quiet it’s almost not there.

“Still, I was being selfish,” Obi-Wan continues. “I should not try to bother you again. Not after everything that happened. You must loathe to see an old man from your past, reminding you of all that hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Anakin insists, desperate. He pulls their bodies impossibly close, rubbing his forehead against Obi-Wan’s temple. “You were the kindest thing in my life. I just couldn’t see it until I left, and I—I never thought you’d still want to find me again, not after all this time.”

“How could I not? The thought of you being out there by yourself—” Obi-Wan’s voice shakes. “I thought I could bear it, Anakin, give it to the Force. I’m failing even that.”

It’s more than Obi-Wan has ever been willing to admit even to himself, alone in the quiet dark. Grief and foolishness have made him brave.

Anakin observes him with meaning in his eyes, remaining silent for a moment longer as if gathering courage himself. When he speaks next, his words are steady and patient.

“If you could see me now—the real me, right here with you, would you want to?”

Something about Anakin is different, beyond the shorter hair and the lines of his face. The warmth around him intensifies, the bright aura hums with anticipation. There is hope, so much hope rising from the ashes of the lost years between them, and Obi-Wan will not fail that again.

“I do. I want more than anything to be with you again, you must know,” he answers honestly.

“And why is that?”

“Because… I…”

“Say it, Obi-Wan. I just need you to say it.” A smile curls at Anakin’s lips. “I just need you.”

Oh, and how can Obi-Wan ever refuse that? He wasn’t there when Anakin needed him most, and it was already the biggest mistake of his life, but now…

Anakin is asking him of something again, and it’s something so simple. Only Obi-Wan himself, laying his heart bare.

He gives away his heart. Easily.

“It’s because I love you,” Obi-Wan says, plain and true. “I love you, Anakin.”

Light and warmth fills the dream, but nothing is brighter than the smile on Anakin’s face, his happiness almost from a fairytale.

-

Obi-Wan nearly chokes on a mess of curls when consciousness returns to him.

Long limbs tangle around him, weighing heavily in the small bed. Naked skin presses against his torse, the warmth bursting like a sun. The morning light slips through the curtains, casting layers of silver in the room.

The body around him stirs, taking in a long breath. The dark curls lift up, and then, blue eyes are meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze, blinking slowly.

Obi-Wan went to bed with a small cat curled against his chest, but wakes up with a full-sized, naked Anakin right between his arms.

“Oh,” he says dumbly. “Was that you this whole time?”

He hardly cares about the answer when Anakin stares at him for a beat, and then bursts out laughing. It’s so beautiful that the experience of hearing it for the first time in years nearly steals all the breath out of Obi-Wan’s lungs.

“Anakin.”

With a flip of his body, Anakin has straddled across Obi-Wan’s hips, pinning him down. He managed that too easily—how has he gotten so much stronger? What happened to Anakin when Obi-Wan is not there?

When Obi-Wan looks up, he’s now seeing Anakin in a new light. He looks the same as in those dreams, the hair still tragically short, but dream could never compare to the sight before Obi-Wan’s eyes. The years have only made Anakin more beautiful, adding sharp angles to his jaw, elegant lines at the corners of his eyes.

Obi-Wan reaches out to touch, and lets out a breath of relief when skin connects with skin.

This is real. Anakin has come back to him.

“Did you mean it?”

Anakin can barely hide the smile with Obi-Wan cradling his cheek, tracing the lines of his chin. He turns to rub against Obi-Wan’s palm, tickling his skin. It seems something remains the same, even when he’s no longer trapped in a cat’s body.

“Between us, you are the believer of fairytales,” Obi-Wan answers, patiently. “The curse wouldn’t have broken otherwise. But you know I did, Anakin. How could I not? Though I have a question for you too.”

There will be no more lost years, Obi-Wan vows to himself. He’d fight another war before he lets himself lose Anakin again. They have all the time ahead to grow closer again, to share stories. To heal.

“I love you too,” Anakin answers cheekily, “if that’s your question. Of course I do, and it didn’t take being cursed into a blasted cat for me to realize.”

The insolence on Anakin’s face looks exactly the same as old memories, with a pout on his lips and defiance in his eyes. Obi-Wan can’t help his own laughter.

His fingers tug at the short curls at Anakin’s nape, schooling his expression back to something resembling displeasure.

“I meant to ask if you will grow the hair out again, dear heart.”

And from the looks of it, his request will be fulfilled easily enough. They have all the time in the world, after all, in their own happily ever after.

[heartfullofleeches]

makariy and sleephead darling for liffeeeeee :3

Makariy and Sleepyhead Bat Reader because grumpy sleep deprived cat + sleepy bat sounds cute plus bats are nocturnal. Picturing Bat Reader "renting" the attic to Makariy's new home and him only learning of his roommate when they're climbing up on the support beams to comfort. Maybe they're in an amateur rock band which he discovers after seeing their guitar tucked away in the corner of the room one of the rare occasions Reader is able to wrestle him down for a nap with him. He has an even bigger reason to want them gone because if they find out who he was that could be another whole shit storm.

Bat Reader genuinely doesn't care about his old life and just enjoys having a warm body to sleep next to because most of their band mates are busy during the day too-

-

"You were in a group too, Makariy?"

He knew he should've burned everything from that time period. A poster of the feline's grinning, youthful face tucked away in the recesses of his nightstand - staring back at him from your hands. Suddenly, Makariy feels like a stranger in his own bed. You lazily trace his a finger along the curve of his tail before folding the poster along its visible crises.

"That's so cool.... Hey, can I have more of the blanket? You're kinda hogging it all."

Makariy's arm stiffens beneath your head. "That's it?"

Fighting the spell of sleep, you raise your head from his chest as you mumble. "Yeah.. I think that's all I need right now. Your fur is softer than this pillows anyway."

"No, that's not what I....you don't have any questions?"

With a small shake of your head, you return to your previous position - siphoning the warmth from him since he's yet to give you what you asked for. "No....Not really. If you wanted to talk about it you'd have posters hanging up everywhere or something. It's nice we have that in common, but if I'm being honest I like you more as a body pillow than as an idol."

Makariy stares up at the ceiling, drawing circles by your shoulder blades right above where your wings sit nestled against your back. You've long since fallen asleep by the time his eyes meet your figured curled up to his chest. He takes a glance at the poster forgotten by you in favor of the real thing.

"....I think I like me more this way too."

[marvelmaven]

Broken But Brave Pt. 19

This is my first attempt at a fic, so encouragement and kind advice are welcome. Let me know what you think!

Bucky Barnes/Original Fem! Character

Set in an AU where Tony DOESN'T die after End Game and Steve is actually with Bucky till the end of the line.

Summary: Bucky is going through therapy, consulting with the Avengers, but not interested in living under Stark's roof, for reasons he thought should be obvious to everyone. On his way home to his Brooklyn apartment, he bumps into his new neighbor, a petite, self-proclaimed cat lady. But he notices something about her that will have him keeping his eye out.

Trigger warning: References to Domestic Abuse (Not Bucky)

Totally turning into a tower fic for a bit. I say turning, but it's already happened.

Part 19/?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Tony ordered a ridiculous amount of pizza (including quite a few onion and pepper that he’d gotten the pizza parlor to write ‘for old men only’ on the boxes) along with mozzarella sticks, toasted raviolis, and an enormous garden salad. As always, there was the Seinfeld-esk grumplings of “why would you put a cold salad on top of hot food, salad needs to be separate, it needs to be cold”. Lori was a bit overwhelmed with the opulence compared to the 3 pizzas she’d ordered a few nights ago, especially when James and Steve both finished an entire onion and pepper pizza each. Steve smiled, explaining “because of the serum, we burn calories at four times the normal rate of a regular human”. 

Nat asked when was the last time she’d had a margarita, and when Lori hadn’t been able to remember, acted as bartender again to make two pitchers. They went FAST. By the time they started the movie, she felt like she had a food baby in her stomach and was delightfully tipsy. James, ever so thoughtful, grabbed a blanket for her for the movie, which she insisted he share ‘You’re always saying you’re cold!’ and he finally relented. Cuddled up together, she enjoyed watching the movie, his arm behind her on the couch, leaning into his side. It was one of those moments, the moment where you know you are falling head over heels for someone, and the delightful signs that they’re falling right alongside you. 

Although Lori’d seen The Princess Bride a million times, every viewing made her notice something new, and she enjoyed that she was able to experience James’s first time watching one of her favorite comfort movies. She also had the same reactions for every moment. When Buttercup leapt out of the boat and the screaming eel was about to strike, she gasped and instinctively grabbed James’s hand. He smiled down at her and squeezed it back gently, but did not let go once Fezzik had rescued her, causing a  heat to swell in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with two slices of pizza and too many toasted raviolis. Nat, Sam, and Tony had a running commentary that Steve kept shushing, engrossed in the movie, and Sam, as grumpy as he had been at the choice, ended up being exactly like the Grandson in the movie, and getting very into the story. 

When Inigo finally cornered the six-fingered man, Lori felt tears well in her eyes when he yelled, “I want my father back, you son of a bitch.” She began to quietly cry, tears running down her cheeks. Softly, she explained to James, who looked concerned, what Mandy Patinkin had been channeling to get to such an emotional place, his own father’s death from cancer. James rubbed small circles on her hand with his thumb, shifting her closer to him, knowing that that was how she’d lost her grandmother, the woman who had raised her. 

Her eyes were dry by the end of the movie, and although it had ended, Lori didn’t want to move out of James’s space. She felt so comfortable and cozy, and it was such a delightfully intimate space. James made no shift to move, arm still flung behind her shoulders, Lori fitted perfectly into his side, head on his shoulder. Before this, James had always sat a respectful distance, at most their knees had brushed chastely on the couch, sending electricity throughout her body. This closeness was akin to heaven, how they fit together so well, her petite frame in his sturdy form. She glanced over to Nat who was not watching her, leaning ever so slightly into Steve and chatting about the movie with Sam. 

“Lori,” Steve looked over at her and she blushed with how the two of them must look, “what were you saying about the scene with Inigo and the six-finger man?” 

“Oh, so the actor who played him, Mandy Patinkin, had just lost his father to cancer. So before the scene, he was walking around outside, talking to his father, drawing the inspiration for the emotion from missing his father and the loss and the enemy that had been impossible to defeat. So when they shot the scene, all of Inigo’s lines, speaking to his father, it was Mandy speaking to his own father, not the character’s. So when he says to all of the offers from Count Ruben, ‘I want my father back, you son of a bitch.’, he was saying it to the cancer that took his own. That’s why it's such a powerful moment,” she felt herself tear up a bit, “I lost my Grandmother the same way, she raised me and took care of me. Ever since, that scene has always made me feel the same way, the finality of the unfairness of life.” Lori realized she had been babbling and put a hand over her mouth, “oh gosh, there I go again.” She laughed in embarrassment, “Sorry, I can be a total chatterbox sometimes.” 

Steve looked at her confused, “There’s no need to apologize Lori, it’s nice to learn more about you.” 

Nat added, “I saw Stark and Wilson tear up at that same part too, I think everyone can empathize, we’ve all lost people we love.” She glanced at Sam and Tony, but Lori felt James shift uncomfortably next to her. Eyes averted from the group. 

“Terminator, we went through this earlier, I don’t blame you,” Stark said succinctly, but kindly. 

James just nodded in response, eyes sadly meeting Lori’s. There was a fear in his eyes, but she thought she understood. When he had been the Winter Soldier, when James hadn’t been himself, he had killed Tony’s parents. She gave a soft smile and squeezed his hand, letting him know it was okay. How hard it must be, having the memories of your body committing horrors against people he would never have hurt. His eyes closed slowly in relief and pulled her closer to him instinctively. Finally, he spoke, voice hoarse, “I’m still so sorry Tony, I know the Winter Soldier was separate, I wasn’t in control, but I still see every victim, every mission in my sleep. It’s why I’m making amends.” 

“Consider me amended,” Tony said lightly, “Nat, let’s liven things up with another few pitchers of margaritas or tequila shots.”

Nat smiled broadly, “why not both?” 

Lori laughed, feeling the heaviness of the topic dissipate. She looked up at James, meeting his eyes again, “Have you ever done a tequila shot?” 

“Uh, I don’t think I have. We mainly just drank our liquor neat.” James replied curiously. 

“Oh, this is fun,” She smiled brilliantly at him and sat up, pulling him reluctantly to his feet. 

“This is a good time to remind you that I can’t get drunk,” he smiled down at her, “but let’s give it a go.” 

“Well, not on what Thor terms ‘mortal mead’, he’s brought Asgardian Ale and some special liquor that was aged in a special cask from a wrecked fleet? I’m not quite sure, but it worked. First time in over 70 years.” Steve replied. 

“Got your hands on any of that?” James asked making significant eye contact with Steve. 

“Nah, he keeps it in a flask he keeps on him most of the time.” Steve grinned ruefully, “but, I’m game.” 

Lori sat at the bar while Nat expertly poured the shots, chopping up a few limes into wedges  for them, and then sending bottles of salt down the bar. 

“What in the hell are we about to do?” James leaned down, whispering into Lori’s ear, sending a shiver of pleasure up her spine. 

“I’ll show you the ropes,” Lori whispered back, eyes sparkling. She took two shots from in front of her, putting it in front of them, wiped a piece of lime on the side of her hand, coating it in juice. She then sprinkled the salt onto her hand, and took a deep breath. If it was at Tony’s bar, this certainly wouldn’t be the cheap gasolina she’d done shots of in college. James mimicked her preparation with Steve, both of them exchanging quizzical looks. 

“Okay, this is how I learned, you say ¡Arriba!” She raised her glass up, and they mirrored her, “¡abajo!,“ she lowered her glass and they did the same, “¡al centro!” Lori brought her glass to the middle of her chest, and James and Steve laughed following her lead, “¡y pa' dentro! Then you lick, shoot, suck. Got it?” Lori was smiling brightly at James who was shaking his head as though she was mad. 

“Lick, shoot, suck?” James asked, “sounds obscene.” 

“Yeah, you lick off the salt, shoot the full shot, and then bite and suck on the lime. You ready?” 

The supersoldiers looked at each other, and then in a secret language of shrugs and head tilts forged in a lifetime of friendship, they seemed to finally agree. 

“Okay, let’s do this Lori.” Steve sighed, clearly feeling way too old for this shit. 

“All right! ¡Arriba, abajo, al centro y pa' dentro!” She licked the salt off her hand, shot back the tequila which was indeed much higher quality but still made her throat burn, and then sucked on the tart lime. She shook her head, face scrunched up at the sourness. James' laughter came out bright and clear afterwards, noticing her face, and she couldn’t help but grin goofily. Steve slapped him on the back, and it seemed like a vision of the way they used to be, back in the war, before the war, before James’s trauma. 

“Quite a toast, where’d you learn that one, and what does it mean?” Steve had his arm around James’s shoulder grinning as he leaned over to speak with her. 

Lori’s face hurt from smiling, thanking Nat for the margarita she placed in front of her, before explaining. “Well, I learned that in college, you can also just clink your glass on the bar to scare away the devil, but I prefer that one. It means up, down, to the center, and to the inside!” 

“Descriptive, I like it.” James leaned forward to grab the margarita that Natasha poured him and Steve, licking the salt off the rim. Seeing his tongue moving along the glass made Lori feel hot and tingly. 

“Well, this should probably be the last round for me before bed, I need to be at the lawyer’s tomorrow by 9:30. She looked at the clock on the phone Tony had lent her, it was almost 12:30. She grimaced, looking up at James, “this might be a rough morning tomorrow.” 

“I’ll get you a cup of coffee before you even get out of bed, doll,” He looked down at her and it made her feel like the only person in the room, “and you have a very sober driver for tomorrow thanks to this damn serum.” 

Lori felt a flush rising up her chest, feeling that Nat must be right. Why would he be so kind, so attentive, so thoughtful, if he didn’t like her. Softly she said, “Thanks, Buck.” 

The use of his own nickname for the first time made him blush and wipe a hand over his mouth to conceal an elated smile. 

Next

[prettygirl-gabi]

Home

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Rating: General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, Mutual Pining

Category:F/M

Fandom:

Relationships:!idol Woozi x !f plus-size baker Reader

Summary: You're the embodiment of home to the grumpiest man you know, but why?

Trope: hates everyone but you

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Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the seventh installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

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It's funny how love finds its way into the most unexpected corners of our lives, like flour dust settling into every crease on a well-loved baking sheet.

Take Woozi, for example. Known for his grumpy demeanor and an attitude that screams "leave me alone," especially when he's in the zone creating music. He’s not someone you'd think would charm many hearts, especially not someone like me, a plus-size girl who loves the warmth of an oven and the sight of a perfectly risen cake. But for some reason, he'd always hated everyone—except me.

From the first time we met, I sensed a different kind of vibe from him. As if behind those narrow, focused eyes, behind the slightly upturned lips that hardly ever smile, there was something just for me. Of course, I'd never admit that out loud. What if I was wrong? What if those stolen glances and the occasional shared joke were just figments of my hopeful imagination?

But today was different. Today, I was going to test this theory. Today, I invited Woozi over to bake with me.

The doorbell rings, cutting through the sweet aroma of vanilla and cinnamon already filling my kitchen. I wipe my hands on my apron, a silly one with a cartoon cat saying, "Bake the world a better place," and answer the door. There he stands, looking unusually casual in jeans and a hoodie, balancing a box of strawberries and a quart of cream in the crook of his elbow.

"Hey, you managed to survive my complicated directions," I tease, stepping aside to let him in.

"I have a GPS, Y/N. It's not 1970," he retorts with a small, almost imperceptible smirk. It's moments like these that fuel my suspicion that beneath that tough exterior, there lies a heart that beats just a bit faster for me.

We find ourselves in my cozy kitchen, the counter already laden with ingredients and bowls. It’s a modest space, but it’s the heart of my home, adorned with hanging copper pots, whimsical mugs, and a couple of photos pinned to a corkboard.

"So, what's the plan, Master Baker?" Woozi asks, placing the strawberries and cream next to the other ingredients.

"You, my dear sous-chef, are going to help me make strawberry shortcake," I say, handing him an apron that reads, "Mr. Good Lookin' is Cookin'."

"Seriously?" He snorts, holding the apron at arm's length. "You're ridiculous, Y/N."

"But you love it," I challenge, raising an eyebrow. To my surprise, he ties the apron around his waist without another word.

We start mixing the ingredients, working a studio," I say, as I knead the dough.

"I can bake, I just choose not to," he replies, focused on slicing the strawberries. His fingers work deftly, and I can’t help but admire their grace. "Why do you think I agreed to come here?"

"Because I'm amazing company and you were dying to spend some quality time with me," I joke, though I hope some part of it rings true.

"Ha, you wish gum drop. I just had today off." He said with a wink before shaking his head. "No I actually wanting to hang out wthyou seriously, and free food." He says with the most sincere tone in his voice.

It’s not long before the conversation mellows into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the clink of bowls, the hum of the refrigerator, and the occasional bubbling laugh when flour puffs out too forcefully from the bag.

As we're readying the dough for the oven, I find my eyes wandering over to him more than I intend. There's a delicate smudge of flour adorning his cheek, and I can't resist.

"Hey, Jihoon," I call out, a devilish grin playing on my lips. As he turns, I swipe a fingerful of flour across his nose.

He freezes, blinking rapidly before staring down at me, speechless. I burst into laughter, but it’s short-lived as he dips his own fingers into the flour bag.

"Oh, it's on," he declares, before flicking a generous pinch of flour back at me. It catches in my hair and eyelashes, sending me into another fit of giggles.

We’re immersed in a full-blown flour fight within seconds, laughter echoing off the kitchen walls. He’s surprisingly quick, dodging and weaving with the agility of someone much nimbler. But I hold my own, scattering handfuls of flour at him, my cheeks burning from too much laughter.

Our cat-and-mouse game eventually leads to us standing face-to-face, breathing heavily, both coated in a fine layer of white. His eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen, a hint of playful mischief lingering in those normally serious depths.

"Truce?" I whisper, holding up my hands.

"Truce," he nods, but neither of us moves away. Instead, he reaches up, his thumb gently brushing flour off my cheek. The touch, though small, sends an electric shock straight to my heart.

"There's something I’ve wanted to ask you," he says softly, his thumb lingering on my skin.

My heart skips. "What’s that?"

"Why is it," he begins, his voice barely a murmur, "that out of all the annoying people in the world, I don’t hate you, hmm?"

I laugh softly, though the weight of his words trembles through me. "Maybe because I'm not annoying?"

"No," he shakes his head, taking a step closer. "It's because you’re the only one who makes me feel... home. Like this kitchen. Warm, inviting, and...not alone."

My breath hitches at his confession, my own feelings bubbling to the surface. "Jihoon... you too. You’re the only one I feel genuinely comfortable with."

For a moment, time suspends itself, the only witnesses to our silent heartbeats being the butter-drenched dough and sliced strawberries waiting nearby.

Then, as if connecting the dots of a long-unread map, Woozi leans in, his lips brushing mine softly. It’s brief, almost hesitant, but it speaks volumes of unspoken emotions. When he pulls away, his eyes search mine for any sign of regret, but all he finds is a reflection of his own longing.

"Thanks for the flour fight," he gently pulls away resting his forehead against mine and whispers, a genuine smile breaking his usually stoic face. "And the baking."

"Anytime," I reply, my heart glowing brighter than the kitchen lights. "Welcome home, Woozi."

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‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

Dividers : by ioveartfilm

[citruswriter]

Have some food and drinks since you deserve it, your works are amazing 😍

🥞🥪🌭🍟🍕🧀🥨🥓🌮🌯🥙🥙🍔🍷🥛🧃🍼🧋🍻🥂🍾🍸

I am enchanted by that angel fic where his lil sibling exchanges his freedom for theirs sooooo I got this idea, what about the same plot but with husk and his lil sibling reader, this time reader taking husk place and becoming alastors newest servant.

Sorry for my bad English 😭

You're the best, take your time 🫂👑

Whiskey & Kittens

Listen with me! ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

A/N: Omfg this is GREAT! I love it. *evil laughter* Also thx for all the nutrients. 😋

Warnings: Angst, soul deals, alcohol, Reader is also a cat demon, Husk being a grumpy bitch as always.

"I can't believe she did that for me!" Angel Dust's hushed whisper came. Husk sat on the stool beside his boyfriend, rubbing soothing circles into his back. "Exchanged her soul for mine? I-I didn't even think that was possible!" He ran his fingers through his fur before leaning onto Husk. The large winged cat wrapped his arms around the spider. "She cares about ya a lot. She wants you free, Angel. That's what family does. They look out for each other". Was all he said as Angel lightly cried into his shoulder. Off and around the corner, unbeknownst to them, a small figure stood in the hall, holding her breath as she listened. Exchange of souls? Now there's an idea.

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It was a normal day in the hotel. Charlie and Vaggie had everybody doing activities like always. Even Angel's little sister was there, although she wasn't present as she always was now that she was contracted to Valentino. The hotel was filled with laughter and warmth. But you was on a mission. "Hey do you mind helping me with the kitchen clean up before you go?" She said, speaking to Angel's little sister. The young spider demon smiled and got up. "Yeah sure! No problem!" She said as she allowed herself to be drug away. The two girls began to work in silence, cleaning and scrubbing down the kitchen. "You didn't drag me in here just to clean did you?" The young girl asked and you smiled softly and turned to her. "No... I wanted to ask you about... your deal? I overheard Angel and my brother talking about it. Is it really possible to exchange souls?" You asked.

The young woman raised a brow at you before crossing her arms and nodding. "Yeah. It's not exactly as simple as an exchange though. You need to give them something they can't refuse. The deal needs to be of equal value. You can't trade a rock for a diamond". She said and you nodded, grinning to yourself. She then straightened up and narrowed her eyes at you, "You're not gonna do what I think you're gonna do... are you?"

You glanced at her and you sighed, wringing your fingers. "I have to try. He's my brother. I want him to be free with Angel. They deserve it. Besides, Alastor isn't... so bad". You replied, tone unsure and the spider demon's eyes widened slightly. She seemed ready to try and convince you to not do it before sighing and shrugging. "I can already tell that nothing I say or do is going to talk you out of it..." She replied before approaching you to lay a hand in your shoulder. "But please. Be careful. Alastor is a dangerous man". All you could do is place one of your own hands over her's, thumb swiping over her knuckles in a reassuring manner, before giving a firm nod.

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A knock came at Alastor's door, causing the demon to perk up and tilt his head. "You may enter," was all he said, giving the person permission to open the door and enter his space. You took a deep breath and opened the door, two glasses in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in another. "Got a moment?" You asked as you sat close to him, pouring you both a glass before nudging one of the cups his way.

You never drank alcohol like your brother did but that didn't mean you didn't indulge from time to time. The liquid burned your throat as you took a sip. It was painful but it felt good. Alastor hummed softly, eyeing the glass, before shrugging and taking a sip himself. "And what do I owe the pleasure, my dear?" The man asked. You had a plan. He knew it. He could tell. He just didn't know what...

"Have you heard about the details of Valentino's latest deal?" You asked and Alastor quirked an eyebrow at you. Where were you going with this? "A little, yes". He answered, taking another sip of his drink. "An exchange of souls... I didn't even know it was possible..." You murmured and Alastor only hummed back. "I'd like to exchange my brother's soul for mine". You said finally. Alastor couldn't help but chuckled as he downed the rest of his glass, clawed hand reaching for the bottle to pour himself another glass. "A bold offer. Alright. I'll hear you out. Why should I make this deal?" He questioned and you looked up at the man, a glimmer of hope in your gaze. How cute...

"You know I'm not like my brother. I'm smaller, more agile, and a skilled fighter. Sure my brother can kick some serious ass but let's face it, I'm better. I'm also, a woman. It's much easier for me to manipulate and negotiate." You said with a shrug. "Plus, it would be a sort of... two for one deal. Husker's souls would be free, yes. But you'd also have me on a leash. Just throw a threat or two his way and he'll still listen just fine. And I think you know this". You downed the rest of your liquid, tail swaying being you as you dared to stare the man in the eyes.

"Hm. I suppose you do have a point". Alastor said, finger circling the rim of his glass. He seemed to be thinking, weighing the pros and cons. Your ears twitched nervously as you studied his body language but damn was this man hard to read. "Very well. You have yourself a deal, miss ma'am".

Alastor extended his hand, green glowing around the room. You took his hand without a second thought, shaking his hand and nodding. Green erupted around the room, symbols lighting up as the deal solidified. "Pleasure doing business with you".

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You shakily sighed as you exited the Radio Demon's room. Looking around, you sped walked down the hall. You needed to get to your room before- "Mind telling me why you're walking outta the Radio Demon's room?" A gruff voice came, causing you to stop dead in your tracks. Fuck. "I had some leftovers whiskey. So I decided to gift it to the old man and share a drink with him. That a crime, Husker?" You asked, crossing your arms and smirking in an attempt to throw him off.

"Stop fuckin lyin. We both know that I can always pick up on your tells". The man hissed out and you sighed, throwing your arms up and continuing your walk to your bedroom, forcing your older brother to follow you. "I'm assuming the green sigils were just a side effect of the drinking?" He scowled and you laughed nervously.

"Please don't tell me you sold your soul, (Y/N)". He said softly, voice laced with worry as you reached your bedroom door. "Well... yes and no." You said nervously, walking in, but the familiarity of your room did little to comfort you. Husk looked at you confused. "What'dya mean? Either you did or you didn't". He said.

"I... well um... I didn't sell it per say more so than I... exchanged it". You said with a sheepish smile. Husk looked at you with confusion, processing your words, before his eyes went wide in understanding. "You didn't..." He said, approaching you. He gripped your arms with such a force it made you wince in pain. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared down at you. "Tell me you didn't, (Y/N)! Tell me this is all some sick joke the two of you decided to pull on me!"

You sighed before giving the man a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Husker. But it's no joke. I did it. Did it for you. You and Angel... you two deserve to be happy... Focus on redemption, maybe the two of you can be rejudged and go to heaven together. And when you do, think of me. Send me a card or something." You said, years pricking your eyes as you cradled your brothers face. The cat demon choked back a sob as he hugged you, crying into your shoulder as you stroked his fur.

"You're so fucking stupid." He sobbed and you laughed softly. "I love you too, dear brother".

I'm it's short and really shitty but I promise I worked hard on it. *sob*

[mrchiipchrome]

Character Introductions

(yes, I know I should've done this before the first part was posted but I didn't so y'all get it now)

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Nika Mühl as herself

Height: 5’11

Age: 20

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#10), Croatia (#10)

Nicknames: Mühl, Love, Secretary Of Defense, Pookie (only by Paige)

Nationality: Croatian

Instagram: nika.muhl

Alt: nikalovesbball

“I don’t like her like that, we’re just friends, nothing more.”

“I don’t know what I want yet, but I do know that I want it with you. Not someone like you, it’s you that I want.”

“You know, I was always a Chelsea fan.”

You as Yourself (shhh, just imagine.)

Height: Tall as fuck

Age: 18

School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#10), England WNT (#10/2+8)

Nicknames: Grumpy, Kid/Kiddo, Troll Child (Leah), Baby, Tiny (only by Paige), Captain

Nationality: English

Instagram: y/n.y/l/n

Alt: norflondonforever

“North London forever, whatever the weather, these streets are our own.”

“I want a beach house in Barcelona, with the most amazing view of the water. And maybe a dog, or a cat. And I want to run a small surf shop at the corner of the beach, hidden away from everything. That’s what my legacy will be, just you me and our beach house in Barca.”

“Sorry coach, I gotta go see ‘bout a girl.”

Gabbi Broussard as Emma 'Em' Whitmore

Height: 5’9

Age: 20

School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#18), USWNT (#28)

Nicknames: Em, Emily, Emma Hayes (only by you to annoy her), Ugly 

Nationality: American/Canadian

Instagram: emwhit18

Alt: thebetterwhitmore

“Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from Flushed Away.”

“I think you need to stop thinking about what everyone else wants and start thinking about what you want. This situation, it’s not your fault that you caught feelings, but it is your fault that you’re pushing her away, so man the fuck up and do the right thing.”

“Will you stop singing that already?”

Callum Turner as Callum 'Cal' Whitmore

Height: 6’4

Age: 23

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Men’s Basketball Team(#26), US Men’s Basketball(#22)

Nicknames: Cal, Gollum, The Rat from Flushed Away

Nationality: American/Canadian

Instagram: callumwhitmore

Alt: nottheratfromflushedaway

“I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.”

“Em, dad called, he said shut up.”

“Watching you trying to flirt is the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”

Robert Sean Leonard as Coach 'Dad' Daniels

Height: 6’0

Age: 66

School/Team: Head Coach of Harvard Women’s Soccer Team

Nicknames: Coach, Dad, Coach Dad, Pops, Ancient Being

Nationality: American

Instagram: headcoachdaniels

Alt: doesn’t have one, he’s too much of an old fart

“It’s called intermittent fasting, look it up, you should try it sometime.”

“No, for the last time, me and Coach Hansen aren’t secretly married with two dogs, you all need less free time to come up with theories like that, this isn’t dead poet’s society. Extra training sessions the whole week out.”

“Are those hickeys? Okay ladies, when you want to have sex make sure to cover up the evidence after, I do not need to know more about your intimate lives than I already do.”

Ethan Hawke as Coach Hansen

Height: 5’11

Age: 62

School/team: Harvard Men’s Soccer Team Head Coach

Nicknames: Coach Daniels’ Husband, Dad #2, Mr. Sir

Nationality: American/British

Instagram: headcoachhansen

Alt: an old fart like his husband, so no alt for him

“So you kids thought you’d get a different answer from me than from Coach Daniels? Why are you kids so incessant on trying to find out if we’re together or not.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I kissed Coach Daniels last night. It was like something straight out of a movie, something so poetic about it.”

“This is Buddy, me and Coach Daniels adopted him so that he could be our mascot. No other reason.”

Paige Bueckers as herself

Height: 6’0

Age: 20

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#5), USA Women’s Basketball Team (#5)

Nicknames: PBuckets, PB&J, The Third Jonas Brother

Nationality: American

Instagram: paigebueckers

Alt: p5buckets

“I’ll beat you on Fifa all day every day.”

“God Nika, admit it, you like her. I can see it from a mile away and this thing you’re doing, this back and forth, will they won’t they, is going to hurt you both in the end. All I’m suggesting is that you evaluate what you want from this relationship and then take it from there.”

“I’m always right, it’s scientifically impossible for me to be wrong.”

Leah Williamson as herself

Height: 5’7

Age: 25

School/Team: Arsenal Women’s Team (#6), England WNT (#6/8/5)

Nicknames: Lee, Will, Spurs Nr 1 Fan, Oldie, Capi

Nationality: English

Instagram: leahwilliamsonn

Alt: will.i.am.son

“I’M NOT A SPURS FAN, STOP SAYING THAT.”

“Y’know in all the time I’ve known you kid, I’ve never seen you this enamoured with someone, you’re so in love it’s making me sick.”

“You’re like the little sister I never had.”

Lucy Bronze as herself

Height: 5’7

Age: 30

School/Team: FC Barcelona Femení (#15), England WNT (#2)

Nicknames: Lucia, Robert, Luce, Prehistoric Being, Dad

Nationality: English/Portuguese

Instagram: lucybronze

Alt: bronzesilvergold

“Ugh, the ladies just love me don’t they.”

“I’m down with the lingo, I’ve got so much rizz that the boomers come running. Cowabunga.”

“Love is…love is effortless, it makes you feel all jittery and when you’re around them you feel like you can do anything. You’ll know it once you feel it kid, don’t try to rush the process, let it wash over you like the waves at the beach.”

Everyone else as themselves, also the other's alt instagrams will explained when they appear

[asher-agere]

Kwitiwchuchu :3 hwehe, grumpy chuchu wthi cg Dazai..? /nf

A grumpy kitty? I can totally do that for you! Chuuya would be suuuch a grumpy kitty cat!

Kitty Chuuya + Caretaker Dazai

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

⛦ Chuuya and Dazai are always fighting in some way, this doesn’t stop when Chuuya is regressed! Dazai will tease the little kitty cat and Chuuya will hiss and meow at him in return! He has scratched Dazai before and no he does not regret it. Dazai deserved it! Of course Dazai’s teasing has no true ill will, but Chuuya does have a short temper, and Dazai knows how to push his buttons. If any feelings are ever truly hurt though they’ll talk it out to avoid problems in the future!

₊ ⊹ Chuuya, while regressed, has a very limited vocabulary. Not to mention Dazai just naturally has a much wider vocabulary than him. This leads to Chuuya losing most arguments (Couldn’t be that Dazai is better than him at something… Just a vocabulary issue of course!). Dazai of course continues to taunt “Nothing to say to that, Kitty Cat?” This lead to Chuuya either lashing out with a scratch which leads to wrestling on the floor, or he’ll go off and pout, which usually ends with Chuuya on the ceiling!

⛦ First up, feisty kitty! When Chuuya is feisty he won’t hesitate to tackle Dazai to the ground. You might be thinking “Chuuya is so small, can he really tackle someone?” The answer is yes! He can manipulate his gravity to make his body as heavy as bricks, then all that weight just slams into Dazai who has a fairly skinny build… Down to the ground they go! Chuuya will also get himself cornered on purpose so he can kick! His legs are strong. He’ll press his back up against the wall and kick with all his might! This has given Dazai a black eye before. It’s ok though because he deserved it. Probably

₊ ⊹ Then we have pouty kitty! Chuuya tries floating up to the top of the ceiling to pout, it’s his favorite pouting place! However Dazai adapts. After it happens a couple of times he just buys a ladder (Using Chuuya’s money of course). Anytime Chuuya goes up to pout he’ll climb up and simply give Chuuya a tap, No Longer Human deactivating Chuuya’s gravity manipulation (The ceiling is high up, Chuuya has time to reactivate it before anyone gets injured!). Chuuya of course always directs his fall to land on his feet too!

⛦ Nicknames! Of course Dazai calls Chuuya “Kitty” but he’ll usually overdo it by acting extra cutesy words “Teeny weeny little kitty cat” Chuuya gets very flustered and usually lashes out insisting that he hates it, but he doesn’t. Of course there’s the classic Soukoku pet names! Dazai will always call Chuuya “Slug” it doesn’t matter the situation. I also think Dazai would just use generally cutesy pet names like “Honeybun” just to get on Chuuya’s nerves and see him all flustered!

₊ ⊹ Cat naps are very important! They help keep Chuuya content and happy, less grumpy! A sleepy kitty very quickly gets fussy and feisty… It’s rather counterproductive truthfully. So cat naps! Dazai will prepare a bottle of nice warm angel milk and hold Chuuya in his lap while he feeds it to him. He’ll massage Chuuya’s palms as if they’re paws and scratch the kitty cats chin. Chuuya is such a happy guy! He’s purring super loud and nuzzling into Dazai’s touch until he eventually falls asleep

⛦ Chuuya is such a pouty kitty! And he’ll pout about anything! Being told to go to bed, not getting the snack he wants, not being held 24/7. Terrible crimes! He claims to, and acts like, he hates Dazai. Dazai of course dramatically collapses on the ground, claiming he can’t go on if his darling Chuuya hates him. Chuuya continues his pouting for a few minutes… But then gives in. He goes over to Dazai and gently headbutts him, tilting his head to the side like a curious animal. Dazai is magically revived and all is well!

₊ ⊹ Chuuya of course has some cat toys, things like mice, fish, birds, etc. Sometimes he’ll bring them to Dazai as gifts! He’ll just wander up to his caretaker, then stare up at him waiting for praise for his amazing catch! However, Chuuya also does this when he breaks something. Running around and broke a vase? Uhhh bring the biggest piece to Dazai! What about the rest? Leave it there of course, it can’t be that important… He still expects praise! He’s very sad when Dazai doesn’t give him any

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

I think I’m getting better at writing pet regression! Thank you so much Ren for giving me a reason to do research and practice!

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

low key wanna see how it is to be takemichi's hyperfem!younger (one or two years younger) sis who is very shy and is also a crybaby like him :3 have a good day!!!

Thank you so much for requesting!

If crying was contest, you two would be biggest winners ngl.

Unlike Takemichi, you're very fashionable. He thinks your style is "too girly" and all, wouldn't be fan of it but it's YOUR style so, he doesn't have a say in this.

He likes that you're bright person tho. It's like you're his sun and he's your sun.

Watching movies together and bawling your eyes out because a dog/cat died in it.

He'd be very caring brother tbh and considering the fact that he has seen many deaths, both in the future and past, he'd be very overprotective. No matter what, he won't allow you to get hurt.

He'd also be funny brother, without even trying. Like he'd tell you his plans and you'll burst out laughing at how stupid he is.

You two have similarities and a lot in common, but you tend to be passive person, which he's not. I think that differences you two a lot. Also, you're more accepting than he is.

Ofc you'll get to know his gf and friends. Honestly, you love going out with Hina and Emma because 1) they have good taste in clothes 2) they're girls and you want more female friends.

You'd be helping Takemichi with choosing gifts for Hina and help him plan something ACTUALLY romantic. Chifuyu, in the corner, grumpy and pouting that his ideas got rejected.

Okey the first time you met his friends...That was SO EMBARRASSING. You aren't used to having many friends, especially guys. So that would be so embarrassing for you and Takemichi would have to calm you down, saying you didn't leave bad impression.

You two care about each other so much and aren't like other siblings who are playfully assholes to each other. Even playfully, it's obvious that you two would sacrifice your lives for each other.

Being gangster brother's hyperfeminine sister actually sounds good. Though it's hard to imagine Takemichi as a gangster and doesn't have a vibe of one.

Both of you are satisfied with small gifts ngl. Whatever it is that you two gift each other for birthdays/Christmas, it'll just be so special for both of you.

Every single time you'd be happy with something so simple such as finding a flower, making flower crowns and etc, he'll be swearing to god every time that he'll protect you so you'll have good life.

[doveatheart]

A Toast~ Part 2

Alastor x reader

A/n- Okay I’m back! I’m so happy y’all are enjoying my small little Alastor Idea. I promise Alastor will meet you soon. I think I’m going to make two versions, one fem reader and one g!n reader. Anywho, if you have any questions you can chat me or go to my page to ask. As always, Dove

Warnings: Cursing, Angel being Angel (flirting), alcohol.

(N/N) = nickname, (Y/N) = Your name, (L/N)= last name, (f/d)= favorite drink

Part 1

Part 2 *already here!*

Part 3

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▪️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~▪️ The gravel beneath you gave a satisfying crunch as you walked up a Broken sidewalk. Damn turf wars. You say angrily to yourself. You were on your way to the Happy hotel, we’re they tried to redeem sinners so not everyone would die at extermination. Was it really possible? You had to act fast. If it was possible (not implying you believe it is) then you wanted to be the first one. You approached the tall building, it’s red tinted walls complimenting the red sky of hell nicely. The neon sign on top read, “Hazbin Hotel”. Wha- never mind. You quickened your pace. Once you reached the big wooden doors you knocked. There were obviously people inside, you could hear talking. Then shuffling, and footsteps. The door found open in a flash which somewhat startled you. There, in all of her bubbly royal glory, was the princess of hell.

“He-“ you were immediately cut off by her slamming the door. “That was quite rude.” You mumble to your self and knock again.

This time it was opened by a “moth” girl. Though she resembled a moth somewhat, she had this aura around her. She had grey hair and a X on her left eye.

“What do you want.” The girl said angrily.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to talk to the princess.” You reply cooly.

“I do mind. Please state your business.” She said holding a spear to your chin.

You chuckled and lowered the spear.

“Charming. Now my business involves the princess so please, If I could speak. I’d like to know more about your hotel.” You plastered a strained smile on your face, Gripping your cane tighter.

Oh did I forget to mention, your cane is a Legit murder weapon? It somewhat resembles a potion bottle on top (or whatever you want). You can turn it into a sword and slice peoples heads off. It’s the best way to kill.

“Oh.” The moth girl says. She opens the door hesitantly and lets you inside, still clutching the spear in one hand.

Your presence did not go unnoticed. All heads turned your way. One head of an especially famous person that you loved dearly.

“Heya (N/N)!” Your spidery friend said with a wave.

“Angie!” You said, walking over and hugging him. His four arms wrapped around you welcomingly.

You went to the annual overlord ball one year and Valentino decided to bring his pet. You two pretty much had one long conversation and became friends.

”What brings ya to the Hotel?” Angel asks.

“Curiosity mostly.” You reply.

▪️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~▪️

After The princess insisted on you calling her Charlie, which you knew would not happen for a while, Angel proceeds to ask you a bigilloin questions about you, how many sinners you’ve killed, your love life.

“Angel dust, I love you but sometimes you need to shut up.” You threaten after he asks you if you have a crush.

Love had always been a hard topic after you died. You visited earth a few months later and found out your current boyfriend/girlfriend (before you died obviously) poisoned you for your money. You, let’s say you never had any feelings after that. You hoped that they would drop down here and you could rip them to shreds while their still alive.

“Wouldn't that be great.” A grumpy cat, bird, Cat bird, said from behind the bar that sat tucked away in the corner. He stared at you with a emotionless face and continued wiping at a glass.

“But you love it when I talk Husky~” Angel said leaning over the speckled countertop.

“Screw off” Husk pushed Angel of the counter and flipped him off.

You looked to the cat, ignoring Angel failing attempts to seduce the Grumpy sinner.

“(F/D) please.” You said. You turned to Charlie after getting your drink from Husk. “Please tell me more about your Hotel.”

Charlie then jumped from the couch where she was sitting next to the moth girl.

“Well I’m Charlie, the owner. And this is Vaggie, my girlfriend.” She pointed to moth girl.

“Take a deep breath, hun.” Vaggie sighed.

Charlie took a deep breath and continued talking.

“Well that’s Husker, our barteneder. Nifty is our housekeeper. And Angel is our first patron.” Charlie then inhailed again and continued speaking. “We do have our manager but he’s somewhere… Well at the Hazbin Hotel we work on redeeming sinners so they don’t get brutally murdered at extermination.”

“Doin’ great hun.” Vaggie gave Charlie a thumbs up.

“What gets a sinner redeemed?” You questioned. This had genuinely peaked your curiosity.

“Well we only know a little. Just that you act selfless, and act nice…?” The princess said.

Interesting, they didn’t know how someone got in.

“Well I’m amazed. If you would like, I’d like to help with your ‘Project’.” You remark standing and setting your drink on the counter. “I could be a valuable asset. I have a reputation and not a preferably nice one. I could guard your hotel for a simple fee…”

“We are NOT making any deals. Already dealt with one asshole today.” Vaggie snapped at you, standing.

“Oh ho ho! Who said I would make a deal? Vaggie you are quite intriguing. No no no, I ask for a room and access to your books Miss Charlotte.” You say, an unusual happiness in your voice.

“Of course!” Charlie said practically jumping. You held out your hand. Vaggie then held her girlfriend back from not shaking your hand.

A static filled the room. It didn’t sound harmless either. It almost had this frequency that made you scared. Almost.

“Oh Alastor! This is… oh I never got you name.” Charlie said looking behind your shoulder then at you.

“ (Y/N) (L/N), pleasure Princess.” You said politely. You then turned behind you to be met with a charming smile. Though you looked past that smile. You saw pain, curiosity.

“Alastor dear, pleasure to meet you. It really is.” he held out a hand to shake yours. You gladly excepted. “My dear, you look familiar. Have we met?” He asked, his staticky voice laced with intrigue.

“The Radio Demon. I believe we have. I am also a overlord. Perhaps I should say that I’m known as ‘The Poison Demon’. Does that ring a bell?” You detached your hand leaning on your cane.

“Well I think it does.”

“I thought it might. You know people say we are almost the same person, and I can see some sense in that.” “Me too, darling.” he then leans on his cane he same way that you do, which thus produces a chuckle to escape your lips.

You couldn’t help but see the cannibals face brighten at your little laugh. You both gaze into each others eyes. His crimson pupils meeting your (e/c) ones. It gave you a weird feeling.

“Like we don’t need another psychopathic killer running around.” The bartender mutters. Alastor then shoots a death glare to Husk which immediately shuts him up.

“Are you ready to see your room (Y/N)?” Charlie’s voice calls behind you.

“See you around Alastor.” You turn on your heel and walk after Charlie at a brisk pace.

What just happened…

▪️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~▪️

A/n: Ahhh it’s done! Part 2 everyone! I think it will be a few days for the Next part because of my other story. But for now I hope you enjoyed and see you soon!

If we want a tag list I can start one but that’s if anyones reading and actually cares 🤣 Comment if you want to be in the non-existent tag list

[neko-artist-meow]

Art not mine

TITLE: THE CURIOUS CAT

Cassandra Vole prided herself on control.

Control over her studies, her image, and, most importantly, her magic.

So when she successfully transfigured herself into a cat, she was nothing short of pleased with herself. The transformation was flawless—her movements elegant, her balance impeccable. It was one thing to read about Animagus transformations, another to actually attempt it.

Just a bit of practice, she told herself, padding down the corridor on soft, silent paws. She wanted to test how long she could hold the form and how well she could move without suspicion. A simple, academic exercise.

But then, of course—disaster struck.

Just as she turned a corner, contemplating whether she should return to her dorm before testing the limits too much—

“Oh Merlin, look at you!” a sweet and gentle voice sounded right behind her.

Cassandra barely had time to react before she was lifted off the ground.

No—no no no—

Two hands cradled her gently but securely, pressing her against the warmth of a familiar chest. Cassandra didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Alice.

She stiffened immediately, ears flattened in alarm, but Alice was already grinning down at her with so much affection that Cassandra couldn't think straight.

“You’re the cutest thing ever” Alice breathed in awe, holding Cassandra up in both hands as if she had just discovered the meaning of life.

Cassandra wanted to die.

She had been prepared for a lot of things.

Alice Vayne enthusiastically cuddling her was not one of them.

And then, as if the situation wasn’t bad enough—

“I swear, you have the same gorgeous green eyes as someone I know…” Alice murmured, tilting her head. Her lips curled into a soft, amused smile. “They’re really pretty.”

Cassandra is used to receiving compliments from her suitors and her fans, she undeniably could listen to them all the time like their words didnt mattered at all.

But somehow, everytime she receives one from Alice, she cant find a reason why it always make her cheeks warmed up.

She swore that if she were in human form, her face would have been burning.

Alice hugged her tightly, feeling its fluffiness pressed against the skin of her neck and cheek, Cassandra could feel the curve of her smile against her fur and somehow thought that maybe choosing a cat for an animagus wasnt so bad after all.

But then Alice's fingers moved to scratch behind her ears as she looked at her with warmth in her eyes. Cassandra’s fur bristled—not because she hated it, but because—because—

Oh no.

An involuntary purr rumbled in her throat.

Oh NO.

Alice giggled. “Oh, you like that, huh?”

Cassandra felt her body tremble and her eyes slowly close and weaken from the burst of pleasure she receives just by being scratched behind her ear, her fingers curled into her palms as if she's holding herself together.

She could feel the warmth rising to her face—except she was a cat right now, so the best she could do was flatten her ears and mentally scream.

Her body betrayed her.

Her tail flicked lazily, a deep, relaxed purr vibrating through her small frame as Alice’s fingers continued to stroke her fur.

Get a grip, Cassandra! she shouted at herself. You’re a Vole! You’re elegant! You are not—!

Her thoughts were interrupted when Alice lifted her closer—so close Cassandra could feel the warmth of her breath.

And then—

Alice pressed a soft gentle kiss to her cheek.

Cassandra's eyes widened and her mind felt like it retreated at the back of her head.

What. What. WHAT.

Her tail flicked wildly in panic.

I must leave - NOW!

She tried to remove herself from Alice's arms only to get pulled deeper into the hug.

Alice just beamed, completely oblivious to Cassandra’s internal crisis.

“Do you belong to someone?” she wondered aloud, cradling Cassandra against her chest like some treasured jewel. “Or are you just a little troublemaker sneaking around?”

I belong to myself, Cassandra wanted to hiss, but all that came out was a tiny, grumpy meow.

Alice laughed.

The sound sent warmth curling through Cassandra’s stomach in a way she did not want to analyze.

“I’m taking you with me,” Alice declared suddenly.

What?!

"I want to show you to my friends, who would believe that there's a cat that looks exactly like Cassandra."

Before Cassandra could react, Alice was already walking, cradling her securely in her arms.

"Whose cat is that?" Daniel asked.

"I dont know, but she found me." Alice's mouth formed a proud smile like she's holding the House Cup.

"Rather you found it" Ivy gave out a soft chuckle, her eyes smiling at the sight of Alice knowing how much she is fond of cats. She slowly walked closer and gently placed her hand on the Alice's shoulder to gaze at the cat only to feel a shiver down her spine, a familiar reaction that she often feels only around their bully Cassandra.

"Doesnt it give the same look as Cassandra?" Alice told them proudly laughing at her precious discovery.

"Its so cute, Im gonna die!" she said holding the cat with both hands stretching her arm for them to see its features more closely.

"Rather scary." Daniel argued crossing his arms as he raised a brow at the cat.

"You should put it back wherever you got it, it could be contagious." Ivy scold her lightly with a disapproving look at her face.

Contagious!? Excuse me!?

Cassandra releases a grumpy meow.

"Awww, you poor thing, did they talk badly about you? Dont worry, I will protect you from them." Alice giving her a pat on the head.

"There, there." then carefully brush her fur.

Then she gave a glare to Ivy and Daniel.

"Let's go Darling, if they dont like you, we dont like them too. Hmph." then she proceed to leave, Cassandra gave them a shot glare with a hiss as soon as Alice turned.

"Honestly, that cat just give me the same creeps as Cassandra." Ivy complained.

"I feel it too, but what's worse is that cat's more important than us." Daniel answered.

As soon as Alice was on the Hallway.

“Sorry about that, let me make it up to you, I know just where to take you” Alice murmured. “I’ll show you around. Let’s go on a date!”

Cassandra froze.

D-DATE?!

Alice, still unaware of Cassandra’s complete and utter internal collapse, began strolling down the corridors, showing her off like she was some prized treasure from the paintings on the wall to every creature. Giving her a tour around the castle, from every room to the Green Houses and finally she stopped to rest in the grassfields with a great view of the Black Lake and the Castle while Cassandra completely situated on her lap, being hugged by her from behind.

“Ive said this a lot of times now, but you really do remind me of someone, sadly we couldnt find her, she's the one I actually wanted to show you off to, she'll probably adore you just as much.” Alice continued thoughtfully, stroking her fur absently. “She's a bit haughty but secretly adorable…”

Cassandra was going to combust.

This was torture.

She wanted to escape, but every time she shifted in Alice’s arms, the girl just held her tighter.

Then she placed another kiss on her other cheek, Cassandra could feel the heat rise in her ears.

If she could speak, she would hex Alice into oblivion.

Alice giggled at the cat's protest with a satisfied grin.

“Oh, you’re as grumpy as her too." she cooed.

I am going to kill you, Cassandra thought.

Then— she carefully turned the cat to meet it by its eyes and pulled out something from her sleeve.

“I have a present for you.” Cassandra felt something soft bought closer to her cheek just behind her ear.

A tiny red rose.

Cassandra went completely still, slowly just watched Alice, her gaze tracing over the latter's face like she was memorizing something she already knew by heart. Then slow as the tide, Alice placed the small delicate flower on the ribbon placed on her neck.

"You're as beautiful as this rose."

Cassandra felt her world tilted, like the air around them danced and played a music only her heart could hear. She felt her world grew vast but her eyes were situated only to the person right in front of her like she was the only thing that mattered at that moment.

“Im sorry for stealing your precious time.” Alice's gaze become soft and her tone much gentle as she apologized with guilt beneath her voice. “I just love cats, they’re my favorite.”

Then a smile formed in her lips as she traced the cat's fur with her fingertips "I wanted to have one, but sadly I couldnt - my mom is allergic, I was only allowed to have a toad."

Cassandra finds herself listening to her, like every detail mattered more than the notes in her book.

And then, as if this moment couldn’t get any worse—

Alice pulled her close and whispered, “Well, whoever you belong to, I hope they know how lucky they are.”

Cassandra’s stomach flipped.

Her entire existence was in shambles.

She barely had time to process before Alice cupped her cheeks and pressed another soft kiss to her forehead.

Cassandra let out the tiniest, most humiliated meow of her entire life.

Alice beamed. “You really are the cutest.”

Cassandra melted.

This is the worst day of my life, she thought miserably, her tail flicking erratically.

But a traitorous whisper in the back of her mind murmured—

Or maybe the best.

When they got back to the dorm Alice placed her gently on her bed still adoring her, like she was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen in Hogwarts for the past years.

Then Corabelle and Cecaniah just came who were busy chatting, until -

"Its brilliant how Cassandra transformed herself into a -

"Cecaniah! Corabelle! Look what Ive found! Isnt it the most cutest cat!?" Alice beamed excitedly pulled them over.

"Is that-" Cecaniah said when she noticed Corabelle swinging her head violently noticing the glare in the cat's eyes.

Dont you dare!

They knew Cassandra's cat form, being the first ones to saw how she successfully pulled out the Transfiguration spell.

"Oh yes, how deplorable, I-I meant adorable, where'd you find it?" Corabelle stuttered, her body felt tensed as a sweat slowly drip down against her temple.

"Just outside the dorm, doesnt it look exactly like Cassandra?" Alice grinned proudly as she lightly stroke the cat's head.

The two laughed nervously "I think we should bring it back to its owner, its probably worried about it."

"Um - also Daniel and Ivy are looking for you. Dont worry we'll handle the cat from here."

"Alright, please take care of her for me." Alice gave a regretful gaze upon the cat. Then lastly she pulled it to a hug and placed another soft kiss on its cheek smiling.

"Goodbye, Darling, till I see you again."

The two had their lips parted and eyes widened unable to comprehend what just happened right in front of them before Alice stormed off the room happily humming.

As soon as Alice was far off, Cecaniah hurriedly ran through the door and locked it her hands trembling from the grasp on the doorknob and after that Cassandra went back to her form shotting a glare at the two.

"So did you intentionally - " Cecaniah asked.

"Of course not!" Cassandra cut her off, flicking her hair.

"So what's it like being Alice's Darling?

Was the kiss -"

"Dont you dare continue what youre saying!" Cecaniah asked only to be cut off again by Cassandra who had her cheeks turned red.

"If you dare speak about this to anyone I'll hex both of you." she warned them.

"Honestly I prefer the cat."

"Me as well." the two exchanged a knowing look.

At the Great Hall, during dinner Alice sat across Cassandra noticing a familiar rose on her ribbon.

Suddenly realization hit her.

But knowing Cassandra she'll probably get mad if she knows that she knew, so to break the awkward silence between them.

"No wonder why I didnt see you around." she reached out her hand on the rose and show it to Cassandra whose eyes widened as she spotted the rose she forgot to remove, Alice gave her a knowing smile.

"Busy tending at plants?" she continued.

"Yes, and a very wild one indeed." Cassandra replied, her head turned away refusing to meet Alice in the eyes with her cheeks still flushing mad red, and elegantly took a sip at her cup of tea.

Alice can't help but to smile softly at another unexpected moment she had shared with Cassandra.

Surely another memory she wouldn't forget.

[crowandmousewritingco]

Paring: Shane "Dio" Morrissey x Din Djarin

Words: 1.8k

Rating: G

Summary: Dio doesn't lose fights, but what happens when he does.

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: So we have au verse called The Fill House where several Pedro boys live together in a house together in a modern au, and this is one of those drabbles. These are meant to be fun little one-offs for whenever inspiration hits. If you want more information about the au we have a whole list here.

Dio didn’t lose fights. He had an image to keep up and he worked really hard to maintain that facade. Except today. Some punk had gotten lucky and snuck up behind him when he was on a smoke break outside the local record store. Apparently he had looked at his girl “wrong” while pursuing the newest metal selection, and sent him to the ground with a decent punch to his cheek. His lackeys took it from there kicking him while he was down and giving him a minimal chance to fight back. Once they had done the damage they wanted, the gang abandoned him in a pile on the alley leaving him to lick his wounds.

He could feel his hard shell crumpling as he slammed the door to his shared house. Desperately wanting to not draw any attention to him, he kept his head low as he hoped no one would see him in this state. Especially Dieter. The last person he needed right now was that disaster calling him one of his annoying nicknames. 

Though unfortunately for him that wasn’t the case. The “parents”--Din, Joel and Frankie– were gathered around the kitchen island when he stormed past them, thick platform boots thumping against the wooden floor. They looked up when they heard the clatter. “Dio?” Frankie asked, seeing the state of the youngest member. 

Dio held out his palm and only briefly looked up at the trio. “Don’t,” He sneered and hurried his way up the stairway leather jacket swooshing behind him. The trio exchanged glances as the noise slowly dissipated. Clearly something was wrong. Dio was usually just his grumpy self but he would linger for a bit before seeking solace. 

Din swirled his coffee cup staring at the empty staircase. “I’ll give him 20.” 

Joel hummed and finished his mug of coffee. Frankie held out his mug for another cup, and Joel took it, giving the other man a quick kiss on the head. Frankie couldn’t help but look behind him watching where Dio once stood. 

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Din reassured him when he noticed the worry etched on his already worn face. 

Frankie turned back to the others and sighed. “I know but I worry about him sometimes.” 

“I think we all do,” Joel added as he sat back down in his chair and handed the mug back to Frankie. 

The warmth of the mug made him feel a bit better, but he would still be worried until Din went to check on him. In the meantime, he found comfort in leaning against Joel’s side as the other two conversed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dio slammed the door to his bedroom and quickly shucked off his leather duster, not even bothering to hang it up, kicking off his platforms with none of the kindness he usually had with his attire. Ezra looked up from his desk where he was working on his current craft of choice. “Well don’t you look like something the cat dragged in.” 

“Fuck off,”  Dio sneered and fell onto his bed. He pressed himself into the corner of his bed bringing his knees to his chest making himself as small as possible. The world didn’t need to see him nor did he want anyone to notice him. His thoughts sending him spiraling were familiar and unwelcomed. 

Ezra sat on the edge of his seat. “Something has caused your neurons to fire in the wrong sequence?”

Dio growled and grabbed the nearest object– one of his many pillows gathered over the years-- and threw it in Ezra’s direction. Ezra being used to this behavior deftly dodged it. “Get out!” 

Ezra sighed and set down this craft with annoyance before getting up from his seat. He grabbed the doorknob and opened it. He turned towards the upset goth as he was leaving. “Fine Oberyn and I had plans that didn’t involve such a violent creature.” 

With another louder growl he threw another pillow which bounced harmlessly off of the closed door. When he was finally alone he let his facade crash around him. Soft quiet tears flowed down his cheeks bringing black streaks of mascara running down his face as he curled up in a ball. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just like Din had promised, 20 minutes went by before he softly knocked on the door. He didn’t hear a reply, but that was normal for Dio. Carefully he pushed the door up a crack enough to see inside. Soft sobs escaped through the opening making his heart pang from the sound, and when he peeked inside the room he saw the puddle of black curled up on the bed. His form was gently shaking from his sobs as he hid his face in the stuffed goat Din won for him at their last arcade date. 

“I told you to get out,” Dio weakly fought back, not bothering to look up from the safety of his stuffed animal. 

“It’s just me,” Din softly replied as he slipped into the shared room. Dio lifted his head with some effort and his guard was dropped when he saw his partner. Tears threatened to fall again and he gently reached out for Din to take his hand. 

Din of course obliged, wrapping the smaller hand in his well worn palm. He could feel Dio shaking against him. Carefully while still holding his hand, Din arranged himself on the bed so Dio could press his face into the safety of his chest which is exactly what the shaking man did. Like a moth to a flame Dio curled himself into the comforting touch of his partner. Now that his safety net was there, Dio didn’t let any of his emotions back. 

Softly he sobbed against the material of Din’s shirt, turning it a darker shade from the tears. Din stayed silent letting his boyfriend roll with the emotions. Dio always kept his emotions so deeply locked up some times like this were important for his mental wellbeing. Din gently ran his fingers up and down the fabric of Dio’s shirt soothing him the best he could. 

It worked and soon Dio’s sobs turned to soft sniffles as Dio finally let all the feelings out. He didn’t stop his soothing even after Dio spoke. “I lost a fight.” 

Din glanced down at the vulnerable goth. “That sounds like it was scary.” 

“It was. I didn’t see ‘em coming. Didn’t even get time to prepare. It was an ambush which was some bullshit.” He cursed out though with less energy he usually gave when he was swearing. 

“Was it someone you knew?” Din asked softly, gently playing with a stay black hair. 

“No some fucking drone thinking I was trying to take their girl.” He snorted sadly. “Wouldn’t he be shocked when he finds outs I don’t fuck like that?” 

Dio was silent again before he continued. “I was just scared. I can hold my own in a fight, but…not when that happens.” He took a deep breath. “I have to keep my image in line or people will think I’m getting soft.” 

“What people?” Din asked

Dio gave a short shrug. “Just people.” 

“And what makes these people so important that you need to have this wall?” 

Dio was silent for a while and Din had to look down to make sure that he was still awake. “It’s always been this way and it always will.” 

“Only if you want it to be like that. You are a different person than when you first moved in. Remember how you were so scared to acknowledge your sexuality.” Din added gently, kissing Dio’s forehead. 

Dio groaned. “Fuck that was embaressing.” 

“But now you are openly out and enjoying your true self.” 

“What does that gotta do with anything?” Dio asked, glancing up at the older man’s face. 

“It’s up to you but maybe you don’t need that shield anymore.” Din offered softly. 

Dio thought about his words for a while. “Dieter is gonna have a fucking field day with this.” 

“I will deal with Dieter. You just be whatever you are most comfortable with.” 

Dio stayed silent mulling over Din’s opinions. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time for him to let down his wall sometimes. 

“If I let this go I’m not changing my style.” 

Din let a short chuckle out of his nose. “And I wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

Dio smirked and kissed his cheek as they continued to cuddle for a bit longer. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey no fair! It’s my turn to pick the movie,” Dieter pouted as he tried to reach the remote Ezra was holding above his head. 

“You would be incorrect my gem, remember you selected that we observed the classic movie Grown Ups for last week's perusing,” Ezra countered keeping the remote out of his boyfriend’s reach. Everyone was gathered for the weekly movie night. The little groups had formed–Oberyn watching his two partners tussle for the remote with amusement while lounging on the shared recliner while Joel sat alone for now on the corner couch. 

“Ya but we were making out the whole time!” Dieter complained. 

“Dieter please you’ve had your choice,” Frankie sighs as he came back with a few bowls of popcorn. Dieter pouted and slumped back in the recliner. Ezra smiled and gave his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek as a consolation prize which seemed to pacify Dieter. He settled himself between Oberyn and Dieter. Frankie set the bowls of popcorn on the coffee table before sliding in next to Joel. 

Ezra scrolled through his options, picking “Charlie Countryman.” “Are we prepared? Wait, where's the goth and the silent one?” 

“We’re here,” Din replied as he and Dio wandered down the stairs. 

No one was bothered that the pair were late except for Dieter. He rolled his eyes and was about to complain when one look from Din’s stoic face shut him up (and made him a little horny.)

Dio took a deep breath and walked around the couch to Joel. The older man glanced up at him and Dio blushed as he sat down in Joe’s lap. Joel’s eyes widened only a smidgen, but his shock turned into a soft smile. His thick arms wrapped around the smaller boy's waist and pulled him in so he was flush with his chest. 

Frankie peeked over at Din who had joined him on the other side of the couch, surprised at the goth man’s outward display of affection. All Din gave in response was a wink. Frankie smiled in response, glad for whatever magic Din worked. 

Ezra peered around the room. “May I start the film?” 

“Go for it,” Dio added, taking a handful of popcorn, and Ezra pressed play on the remote.

Everyone took in the movie though once again the plot was lost to the making out. Movie nights were always better like this.

```````

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