he and his fur hat

Mr. Fox

A very elegant fox came to the hospital from Alaska this winter… I guess he wanted to check out some California sun.  His person wrote:

 I have a stuffed animal that I have had since I was a baby(35 yrs) and he is in some desperate need of help! He needs a good cleaning, some new stuffing especially in the face,neck,and top of the legs, and he has some mouse damage on one of his coat tails… I hope you can help. He is just too special to me to see him like this.

He arrived in a large, flattish box, his tail drooping close to his body.  He was tall (almost four feet with his top hat) and in a worn tuxedo.  A bit of a hobo appearance with his torn cumberbund and dirty suit. Excuse the blurry photos, I kept having to reach out to balance him.   As you can see, he couldn’t hold himself up on arrival:

First step was a spa.  He was unstuffed, and his wire (which should have held his tail out) came out to be straightened.  He also had his hat removed so it wouldn’t bleed on his white fur.  It had some cardboard that needed to come out for cleaning, too.

As with all spa patients, Mr. Fox got a new heart of his original stuffing, along with his straightened wires reinstalled and a whole lot of new stuffing!

Then it was on to tailoring… his tails needed stitching, and we recovered his satin cumberbund in new red velvet (sturdier than the satin).  Here he was, ready to return to Alaska, a right dapper gentleman fox:

He can stand and hold his tail out now, and his return box was much more of a column to accommodate his new healthy self. He headed home with a few weeks of winter to spare.  His person wrote:

He looks great!  Thank you so much!

madhattey  asked:

Can you believe Ed is imagining him and Oswald fight like husbands in those promos??? XDD

YES. And then he will imagine his Ozzie in hopefully a fur coat and top hat fashion singing to him. Ed you have some issues. Do you realize how damn gay you are for Ozzie no you don’t but you will soon. Man they need to solve their shit, I can see Fish yelling at them somehow that would be hilarious. Next ep will just feel like some spinoff Nygmobblepot gay show it seems like lol. Though I think in the end we may see Edward killing off hallucination Oswald obviously, like he became one with his Dark!Ed, halluciantionoswald will disappear. But THEN I can’t wait to see them meet IRL oh dear. yep, much relationship issues ahead lol. EXCITE. 

anonymous asked:

Oh hello! I just wanna say that I really.. REALLY adore your blog. It feels like I'm "talking" to an open minded person and honestly, I love this kind of people. Seriously. Also, personally, I never get bored over a conversation with someone like that. Is just, amazing. Sooo, I just want to wish you good luck with this blog. Now, if I may, can you make a sweet scenario with our dear Fyodor with his s/o who was, in the past, his childhood best friend? (it's ok if you don't want to, I understand)

Ahh thank you so much! I’m glad that you get the impression that I’m open minded haha, since I do try to be. If you ever do want to actually talk to me about anything I’m always open for chats too. Whether it be about BSD or anything else.

I actually did make a scenario a while back about Fyodor’s childhood friend confessing to him, so this one can act as a continuation. Part 1 is here.

You can hear the water ebb and flow beneath you and the wind moving through the trees. It’s a cool Spring night, to be expected this time of year.

He’s told you before that he likes this temperature the most. He can still wear his much loved fur hat and coat, and he doesn’t run the risk of getting frostbite.

In the Winter he would always come home with slightly reddened cheeks and snow covered eyelashes. This is why Winter was not sad for you; there were things to look forward to.

You were grateful for so much. Neither of you had been fortunate in your early years, but in finding each other things had changed.

You had been sensitive back then, like many children were. It made you quite the target. In grade school you were called annoying by various children, and chased around the field by some as they insulted you. Crying just resulted in you being labelled as a crybaby. It escalated from there, and resulted in you becoming withdrawn and quiet. When you couldn’t hold your words back, the teasing continued.

You still wondered why this had begun in the first place. Children have a knack for picking out the weakest link it seemed. 

When you first met him he had transferred to your school a few years in. He was tall for his age, and quite expressionless. You were drawn to him from the moment you saw him. A part of you realized your opportunity. If you got to him first, perhaps he wouldn’t start teasing you like the others.

However, the boy avoided you as he did most everyone else. Many children, including you, attempted to speak with him. He would either walk away or never respond. Sometimes while playing outside, you would turn to find him staring at you from a few metres away, as if he wanted to approach you. You would wave, and he would walk away.

He finally spoke to you at a very strange time.

You had been pressing your hands into the ground. It felt like a sponge, as moisture from the rainfall was still imbued within it. A small pink worm popped out of the ground, and you eased it out with your fingers, staring at it as it wriggled in your palm.

“I’ll call you Mr. Wormy,” you said to it, “if that boy Fyodor won’t be my friend, I’ll just have to stick with you.”

“What are you doing?” you jumped at the sudden utterance, almost dropping the worm. Fyodor was standing beside you.

“I found a worm!” you said, holding your hand out to the boy.

He knelt down beside you. “It looks like a rat’s tail,” he said. “Can I hold it?”

You nodded, holding your hand closer. Fyodor picked up the worm, and watched it wriggle in his hand for a few moments.

“Can you be my friend instead of the worm?” you asked suddenly. “I mean, worms can’t speak. So they won’t bully me, but we also can’t talk about things.”

“They die quick too,” he responded. You nodded.

“We need to stick together, or else everyone will keep calling us weird.” you huffed.

“They call me weird?” he asked, seemingly unfazed.

“Yes! When you’re not around they call you all sorts of mean things. They’re scared of you, so they won’t call you that in person. Nobody’s scared of me, I cry too easily.” you exclaimed.

“So will you be my friend?” you repeated. “I’ll be your’s too. I don’t have to talk if you think I’m annoying. As long as you let me sit with you at lunch and recess. That way we won’t look strange for not having any friends.”

“I guess it’s fine,” Fyodor replied.

“Yay!” you said happily, “can I hug you?”

“No, I don’t like hugs.”

You pouted at his reply, but were still overjoyed that you had finally made your first friend.

You had stuck together since then, always the odd ones out. Now, you had been dating for a few months. Something you had dreamed of for years.

It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to go on late night walks. Fyodor enjoyed the city the most when other people weren’t around. You enjoyed staring up at the moon and watching the lights in old Soviet era apartment blocks flicker on and off.

The sprawl of an empty city brought with it mixed feelings of wonder and sobering isolation. Yet as you became lost within the dark spots of the street his fingers fit between your’s and tethered you to reality. For to tug was to find him there.

His eyes had an ethereal quality at night. They were as dark as the water beneath you.

Your arms rested on the rail of the bridge, with your chin on top. Fyodor had his head on his hand.

Most of these strolls were full of silent contemplation. This had been one of those moments.

“Do you think that you’ll ever tire of me?” Fyodor broke the silence, eyes still fixed on the darkened horizon.

“No. Fedya, you’re probably the most interesting person in the world. At least to me.” you reply, slightly confused by his question.

He hums in response.

“If anyone got tired of the other, I’m sure you would get tired of me.” you continue.

“I’ve never once found you boring,” he replies. “Well, sometimes you talk about boring things, but that doesn’t make you boring.”

You let out a small laugh. “I’m surprised.”

“You shouldn’t be. I’ve told you many times, I wouldn’t have spent this much time around you if I found you boring and unlikable. I have very little personal relationships, and I should probably value them more than I do.”

Hearing him acknowledge his own faults was practically unheard of. But there was always more to him. You knew that you would never know him entirely, and yet you hoped you could someday.

“That’s because you value the whole, right? You’ll make the world a better place, and in bettering the whole, you’ll bring your loved ones joy. Am I wrong?”

There was no response, often the case with Fyodor. You would offer your analysis of his behaviour and thoughts, and he would make no reply. You never knew if your thoughts were correct, but you figured if you were on the mark it would show how much you cared for him.

You turn away from the water to examine his face. It’s neutral as usual, unreadable.

“I love you, and I think I always will. Just remember that.” you say.

He turned after you said this, cracking a small smile.

“I feel the same.” he says.

“Can I get a hug because you didn’t say ‘I love you’?” you say playfully.

“No. I can write it down on a piece of paper if you want, then you can look at it whenever you want me to say it to you.”

You shake your head. “Why do you always insist on not hugging? We’ve done things now that are way more intimate than that.”

“Hugs are strangely uncomfortable. Though I suppose I can grant you one,” he sighs, like it’s a big deal.

You smile, quickly wrapping your arms around him and resting your head against his chest.

“Hug me back please.” you say.

Fyodor slowly wraps his arms around you.

He’s told you once that he doesn’t see much value in hugs. However, some hugs can be quite valuable. As you listen to Fyodor’s heartbeat, it gives him a moment to look at you openly. Too guarded to display emotions when anyone is looking, he stares at you lovingly, momentarily completely enthralled.

It’s Complicated

This one is for my baby, @teddyowl-bbs. I love you! <3


He’d gotten the last text message from Evan at three that afternoon, right after he had landed in Ontario.   

From Evan: I’m here. Safe and sound. I’ll skype when I get to the cabin. Reception is shitty up north. I love you. Wish you were here.

He had told him that it takes about an hour to drive from the airport to the cabin his family owned in northern Ontario, near the mountains. It was a family vacation, one that Evan had bailed on for the past two years because of work. But it was now eleven at night, and Jonathan had yet to hear from him.

He was pacing his bedroom, simultaneously looking from the phone in his hand, to the Skype screen on the desktop in the corner. Eight hours: eight hours without a word from his boyfriend. He didn’t know if he was alive or dead, or merely ignoring him. Jonathan’s mind was jumping to the worst conclusions: dead in a ditch, eaten by bears, killed by a serial killer, figuring out a way to break up with him…  

The last thought was the one to make him stop, because of all of them, it seemed the most likely. Sure, they were happy, but their relationship was…complicated. Jonathan was still H2O Delirious, the masked gamer, and Evan was still Vanoss Gaming, one of the most popular and most recognizable Youtuber’s out there. Besides the fact that they lived on complete opposite sides of the country, whenever they were together, they had to be cautious, lest someone out them, or Jonathan. It took a toll on their relationship, and though neither one ever said anything, Jonathan knew it bothered Evan. Evan had invited him to meet his family this weekend, but Jonathan said no, too afraid to admit that he was terrified that their relationship wasn’t going to last through the turbulence: that he didn’t want to fall in love with his family only to let them down when he couldn’t provide what Evan needed. And now, Evan was thousands of miles away, on a vacation that Jonathan chose not to accompany him on, not answering his phone.

Keep reading

❄Ice-skating (requested) - Preference #212❄

⛄Winter/Christmas Edition⛄

___________________________________________________________

Dan -

“Shit!” Dan laughed, nearly tripping over his skates before waving his arms around attempting to steady himself. “You okay there, clumsy?” You teased, skating closer and grabbing his arm to help. “It’s good. I’m good. I got this.” He grinned, getting tugging his fur hat over his ears. “All right, come along, come along.” He skated toward the middle of the lake and you followed. Though when he stopped suddenly you slid right into him, causing both of you two lose your balance. “Look who’s clumsy now, clumsy!” He laughed, your face inches from his “Oops.” You smile, going laying your forehead on his.. “I’ll let it slide this time.“

___________________________________________________________

Phil  -

"I didn’t realize that ice skating needed good coordination.” Phil grumbled, continuing to wobble around. “I thought this would be fun?” You grinned, tightening your laces; you weren’t much of an skater either. “These are hard to stand in!” You whined as the two of you slowly made your way to the rink, holding onto each other for support as you both nearly fall. Not even one minute after finally setting foot onto the ice, you slip and grab onto Phil who in turn crashed down next to you. “This is freezing!” He laughed, landing on the ice with a thud. “Well it is ice.” You teased and began laughing at how awful you both are. But of course, that didn’t stop your fun as you both stood up and attempted it again.

___________________________________________________________

Blackwood Academy

A/N: Sorry it’s a bit late! This one took longer than I thought… so for half of the world, this is technically a Boxing Day Special. >< Anyway, I hope you like this! Merry Christmas <3

[CHAPTER LINKS]

Summary: Dan has been thrown into a completely new environment as he joins a popular boarding school, Blackwood Academy, as a new student. After meeting Phil, a ringleader of the most infamous group of students in the school, Dan realises there’s a lot more to him than the man-made definition formed by other people’s opinions.

Chapter Ten

“Merry Christmas!” Alex’s enthusiastic voice breaks through Dan’s deep unconsciousness, instantly transporting him from his dream back into the dim light of their bedroom, the dark blueness of the morning struggling through our curtains.
Dan chuckles sleepily, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?" 
He peers at the alarm clock. "Like, seven?”
“Alex…” Dan moans jokingly, burying his head back into the pillow. “Do we really have to get up now? I didn’t even wake up this early when I was back at home." 
"Oh, lighten up, you Grinch! This is the tradition here,” Alex says. “So, are you getting up or what?”

“What time do we have to be down there by?” Dan mumbles.

“Well, we all go down to the Common room at 7:30 and exchange gifts, Then at 8, we all go to the dining hall for a crapload of breakfast, and then watch movies all day until Christmas Dinner. Sound good to you?” Adam chuckled.

“Yep,” Dan sighs in relief – the day seems to be pretty laid-back, in contrary to the idea he’d had of Christmas at school, fearing stupid lessons all day. He reluctantly wriggles out of the warmth of his duvet, sits up, and stretches, feeling the tension of the night’s sleep in his muscles unknot satisfyingly. He know there isn’t any time, or point, in straightening his hair so he shakes the brown waves out, letting them flop messily over his forehead.

As he notices Alex isn’t changing clothes either, he follows him out of the door, shuffling in his slippers and tying his dressing gown up.

The Common room is gloriously decorated, tinsel glittering up against the high walls and fairy lights prettily peppered around the room, giving off a warm light filling the room which adds nicely to the excitable atmosphere and chattering voices spreading to every inch of the room.

“Hey!” the others beckon enthusiastically, calling them over to their usual corner, which looks distinctly festive as opposed to the textbooks and plain sofas that would lay there on any other day – they had now been replaced with an enormous pile of presents.

To Dan’s relief, his Amazon deliveries had arrived on time, so he wouldn’t be empty-handed

“Merry Christmas guys!” Dan grins, rotating around the group and hugging them all individually. It’s almost unbelievable to him that he’d actually known these people for less than 3 months, yet he’d already made the closest friendships with them than he’d ever had before at his previous school. Sure, he had friends – as far as classmate acquaintances go, but he isn’t nearly as close to them as he is to these guys.

“Merry Christmas, Dan. Open your presents!” Zoe points to the pile eagerly after their hug.

Dan chuckles, sitting down into the sofa and putting his presents on the table along with the others.

As the presents are being sorted into their individual piles, Dan lets his eyes wander over to the other far corner of the room, his eyes scanning through the distinctive group of dark t-shirts and facial piercings until he notices Phil.

He’d distanced himself slightly away from the others, in a separate conversation with Charlie, although it looked as if he’s zoned out of that too, his thoughts in a different place. His dark, unbrushed hair hangs messily over his fringe, partially covering his bright blue eyes until he flicked it away every so often. He’s wearing a loose, plain black t shirt and checked pyjama pants, although he seems to be able to look effortlessly good in them, almost as if he’s modelling some sort of designer label as opposed to just rolling out of bed at 7 in the morning. Unlike how Dan looks right now – as if he were ready to roll back into bed, let alone be seen modelling his fluffy dressing gown and bear pyjama pants down any catwallk.

Charlie chatters away to him, his hands fiddling with the fur on his wolf hat whenever he looked at Phil in a very teenage-girly manner. Dan can’t hear what they’re actually talking about, but by the amount of engagement Phil’s expressing, it doesn’t look like a very interesting conversation topic.

He doesn’t look bored , as such, he just looks… sad, almost. Like he’s in another world entirely, and probably not a very happy one. He hadn’t once smiled, or said anything to anyone else other than Charlie; and even then he hadn’t said much to him.

Dan’s heart suddenly jumps as Phil’s eyes avert to his, noticing him. Dan struggles to look away, despite knowing that in any other situation, staring is usually considered rude.

Being too caught up with his own inner turmoil, Dan hadn’t yet noticed that Phil’s actually smiling for the first time.

At him.

Shit.

“Dan? Hello?” Alex waves a hand in front of Dan’s face as he snaps back into reality. He manages to give Phil a secret grin back, before turning to his own group of friends. Luckily, they hadn’t picked up on exactly who he’d been smiling, or even looking at, which is a huge relief. Dan doubts he’d have these friendships for much longer if they find out he’d been making eyes at their absolute arch-rival.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Dan mumbles, reaching out to his pile of presents.

After he’d unwrapped most of the gifts and said his fair share of ‘thank you’s’, Zoe thrust her present to him, a flustered grin on her face.

Dan unwraps her present, feeling like a bit of a twat with everyone watching him. After a few seconds of silence, he’d exposed a heart-shaped box of chocolates and Zoe stares at him expectantly, giggling slightly.

"Are they okay? I was going to get the deluxe box but-”

“They’re fine,” Dan grins. "Thank you, Zoe,” he glances up at her, “that’s really sweet of you,” he pulls her in for another hug, and as he pulls away, he realizes her cheeks had flushed

“Are you blushing?” Louise asks, giggling as Zoe’s cheeks turn a deeper shade.

“No!” she denies bashfully, shielding her face with her hands.

Dan laughs along with them. They all part their separate ways to get dressed, before meeting back in the Common room for the movies.

Dan decides on a red checked shirt and black skinny jeans, and straightens out the hobbit-like mess that lay on his head. Looking self-consciously at himself in the mirror, he turns to Alex.

“What do you think?” he asks him anxiously.

Alex eyes him up and down, nodding. “Nice.”

“Thanks…” Dan turns back to himself, continuing to tug down on the shirt and smooth his hair out accordingly.

“Dude… it’s school. Not a Chanel fashion show,” Alex smirks, rolling his eyes at the way Dan stares at his reflection. “Come along, pretty boy.”

Dan gives himself one last nervous check-over before heading out of the door, being suddenly joined in the corridor by a crowd of others as they all made their way back into the Common room.

Several DVDs later, they begin filing up for Christmas Dinner in the dining hall. Dan couldn’t help but notice Phil’s disappearance after the second Harry Potter movie, and he hadn’t yet returned. Dan’s mind begins to wander, wondering where he’d got to, but he tries not to think about it too much – he’s probably just gone to his room, or something.

For five hours.

He tries to forget about him. He tries to join in with all the pulling of Christmas crackers, laughing, eating, and wearing paper hats, but he can’t stop himself from tentatively glancing over at the empty seat, or corner of the table where he should be sitting.

His other friends don’t seem at all fazed by his departure, not even Charlie. It’s as if they haven’t even realised he’d disappeared.

“Where’s Phil?” Dan thoughtlessly blurts out, and immediately regrets it.

“Who?” Carrie looks up blankly, as if she too had forgotten about him. She glances over at their table for half a second, not even taking in the fact he’d gone. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”

“Why’d you care?” Alex frowns suspiciously, and Dan’s face flushes red. He quickly glances down at his lap.

“Oh, no reason, I just-…” he shrugs awkwardly, silently scolding himself for being so stupid as to sound as if he cares about his whereabouts. He settles for a subject change. “So, what did you guys think about-…”

The rest of the afternoon followed pretty smoothly – no-one questioned Dan’s aloud thoughts any further, but the nagging thought wouldn’t vanish. Not even after the food, which he’d eaten unusually quickly to try and distract himself.

It’s useless. He discreetly excuses himself from the table, power-walks along the huge corridors, and disappears out of the main double-doors into the freezing cold December air before anyone can question him. It’s then he realises it probably would’ve been an idea to bring some kind of jacket, but obviously, being cold isn’t exactly his main priority right now.

He walks along the snow-dusted paths, completely deserted considering the entire population of Blackwood were either at home, or in their separate dining halls for the Christmas Dinner.

After a cold walk, he finally arrives outside the music hut, his heart thudding. He swallows his fears, shivering outside the door before he grips the door handle and twists it. As he pushes the door open, surely enough, he finds Phil sitting alone on the sofa, a look of concern on his face which vanished after seeing that it was Dan behind the door, and not Charlie.

Shutting the door quietly, Dan walks over to him without saying anything, setting his bag down beside the sofa and sitting next to him.

Phil stares into space, and it’s the first time Dan’s seen him actually shiver.

"Why are you here?” he asked coldly after a short silence.

“You want me to go?” Dan raises his eyebrows.

“Never said that,” Phil responds, the iciness still in his voice although he shaking his head silently, so Dan stays put.

“Why are you here, more importantly?” Dan asks after another thick silence.

Phil shuts his eyes, sighing. “Because I don’t want to be there.”

“It’s Christmas, Phil,” Dan sighs. “Surely you’re not going to shut yourself away in here all day?” he shivers. “Besides, it’s freezing,” he scans the shabby hut they’re sat in.

“Yeah. Tells you something, doesn’t it? I’d rather be here than there.”

Dan feels a pang in his chest. “D’you want to tell me why?” he mumbles after an uncomfortable silence.

Phil shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. “Can’t see what difference it would make either way;

“I-…” he sighs, shutting his eyes. “Christmas was always shit. I can’t remember a single good one I’d ever had – my mum was a bitch, my dad was-… well, he was a bitch too,” he shrugs. “It just-… it just never worked. We didn’t work with Christmas; we weren’t enough of a picture-perfect family, y’know?” Dan nods slowly, gesturing for him to continue.

“I can barely remember half the Christmases we had together, until-… well, until the divorce, but-… I do remember one Christmas round my mum’s, with her stepdad and-…” he gulps. “he hated me, he really did. He’d never sa- no, he did say it,” he contradicts himself. “he said it all the fucking time, and I could see it in his eyes,” his own eyes glitter. “he wanted rid of me. He wanted to shove me off to a boarding school so he could live in peace, and-…” he shrugs. “He hated me.”

Dan gulps, his heart thudding. Phil’s eyes flicker to him for half a second, before he continues. “I don’t think I need to go into detail-… it doesn’t take a genius to piece together the evidence; a violent alcoholic stepfather plus an annoying brat of a kid-“

“You don’t need to go into detail,” Dan cuts him off. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks,” Phil throws him a grateful glance. “So-… I just can’t stand being in that hall,” he shakes his head. “I can’t stand that vibe of happiness,” he shuts his eyes. “It sickens me.”

“Phil-…” Dan sighs, awkwardly putting his arm around the black-haired boy’s shoulders.

Phil sighs, relaxing into his embrace. He rests his head on Dan’s chest. “Why did I just tell you all that?” Dan gulps, unable to answer. “You’re the only other person who knows about that, y’know.”

Dan pulls away. “Really?”

Phil nods. “Haven’t even told Charlie about it.”

“Why me, then?” Dan frowns.

“You’re not Charlie.” Phil shrugs. “I trust you.”

Dan gulps. “Oh,” he nibbles his lip.

Phil glances down at his lap, and if Dan’s not mistaken, he thinks he can make out an almost inaudible mumble of ‘you care more than he does’, but he doesn’t pry – Phil had obviously muttered it under his breath for a reason.

“Oh, I-…” Dan reaches over for his bag. “I nearly forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

Dan digs around through the mess of discarded wrapping paper and books until he finds the small wrapped box, pulling it out. He’d been intending to give this to Phil during another one of their ‘homework sessions’, but now will suffice; it is Christmas, after all.

“Here,” he hands him the small present, noticing the way his eyes had lit up. Dan can’t help but notice this is the only present he’d been given throughout the entire day.

“Oh, Dan…” he whispers hoarsely. “You didn’t have to-”

“Open it,” Dan urges.

He unwraps it with shaky hands, and once he opens the box, he’s speechless. Embedded in a velvet pillow, glitters a black quartz bracelet with gold plating between every jewel.

"Oh Dan-…” his voice cracks, his eyes glittering with tears.

“Do you like it?” Dan asks anxiously.

“I love it,” he whispers, holding up the bracelet with both hands, beholding its beauty.

Dan finds Phil’s genuine appreciation for such a small gesture touching, and he smiles softly at him.

Phil takes a deep breath, hooking the bracelet around his slim wrist.

“It fits perfectly,” he says, gazing up at Dan. His eyes shine brightly with emotion.

Before Dan can add to anything else, Phil pulls him in for an unexpected hug.

“Phil?” Dan tries to ignore the way his heart had leapt once they’d embraced.  

He feels Phil’s chest rise in a shaky sigh. “This-… this is the first present I’ve been given in three years.”

Dan sighs, tightening the hug and stroking Phil’s mess of soft, black hair. He smells of his familiar, slightly spicy cologne, and Dan breathes it in again as it lingers on his collar.

“You were the first person I bought a gift for, you know,” Dan mumbles. Phil doesn’t reply outright,, but he nestles into Dan’s chest.

Dan frowns. Everything feels… weird. In a strangely nice way. He’s overwhelmed with an unidentified feeling – not the same feeling that came over him when hugging Zoe, or Louise, or any of his other friends. It’s a feeling he’d never experienced before.

"Merry Christmas, Phil,” he whispers through a sudden smile.

NEXT CHAPTER

anonymous asked:

The last comic you just posted was awfully cute but i wonder what happens to their clothes when they turn into bats?

they carry them in a suitcase, of course!

chlxrokiinetic  asked:

Hikari mumbled quietly to herself, holding a worn carving knife, which was rather small, in her hands. Where was this damned path going?! She could hardly see anything in her garden... Except a man.

Hector sat on the ground in his far too warm jacket, ski pants, mitten, which sat beside him as he retied his boots, and a fur hat.

Yangta’s Elves - a very bigbang Christmas

Title: Yangta’s Elves

Group: BIGBANG

Chapters: 1/1

Synopsis: On Christmas Eve, Yangta Claus sends his five best elves on an Art Reconnaissance mission for next year’s toy designs. They can’t keep themselves from mischief. Comedy, fluff, and friendship for Christmas.

Note: This is a double Christmas fic release from two BIGBANG fanfic writers on tumblr! Check out @seunrig‘s blog for her BIGBANG Christmas fic! Also, much thanks to @chibiele for story inspiration.

More bigbang fanfic (masterlist)


The night before Christmas is always hectic, and Yangta Claus’s workshop floor is a masterpiece of chaos in harmony.

A small elf dressed in a sharply cut, red-sequined jacket darts through the mess, arms piled high with stuffed panda plushies, each nearly as tall as himself. The white pom-pom stuck to the top of his black beanie is barely visible over the topmost panda. 

“Jingle bells, Jingyo smells, the maknae is the bae,” he sings merrily under his breath. His pom-pom bounces happily with each step as he waltzes around elves, confectionery machines, and assembly lines, each small pace going pat pat pat pat. 

Keep reading