Made some quick pair icons for Kai’s twitter (KaiSukiKai) and mine (nekodoruBox) that were originally just supposed to be a joke but here we are. Kai’s art blog is @kaisukidoodles but she’s more active on her twitter. ♡
Art blog: questionartbox
There was no man that my father admired more than his father, and no one his father admired more than the man who raised him. With tenderness of heart and warm humor my father met everyone as his equal.
Upon his death in November 2000, I was exposed to our family businesses insolvency. Dad faced a series of devastating fires, bad crops, perpetual over-extension and high-interest loans.
Five generations of familial and financial stability fractured. While the economic effects were immediately obvious, the emotional implications lingered beneath the surface for nine years.
“So now we’ve gotten Moose off our tail what do you plan to
do with (Y/N)?” Crowley asked curiously, as he glanced over at you, sat at the
table Dean had told you to sit at as he drank shots at the bar.
“I might keep her around.” He muttered, sliding the shot
across the bar as he reached for the next one.
“Well, she’s not exactly going to be any use to you, maybe
you should hand her over to moose and we can get one with…” Crowley started to explain
his idea but Dean just scoffed.
Hurt/Comfort prompt for Andreil: “Can you [please] come get me?” for @turtlelino
Neil was soaked by the time he returned to the dorms. His morning run was a sweat-inducing workout with the summer temperatures already in the high 80s by the time he hit the pavement. To make matters worse the storm that had been threatening to break for the past day abruptly became a downpour, torrential rains slamming into Neil as he raced back to Fox Tower. He shivered in the building’s arctic air conditioning and took the elevator up to his floor. His shoes were soggy and made annoying squishing noises as he plodded down the hall. He retrieved the key from the lanyard around his neck and let himself in.
Andrew had left a note on the fridge explaining that he was going out to pick up a few things that they needed. Neil was slightly concerned that Andrew hadn’t bothered waiting for him but he pushed that feeling aside and headed for the shower, leaving his sopping clothes in a puddle on the floor. The hot water felt good and Neil let himself relax, enjoying the pulse of the steady water pressure against his tight muscles. He stole some of Nicky’s citrus shampoo and Kevin’s body wash. Andrew had complained that they all ended up smelling the same but Neil didn’t really get why it mattered. As long as they were clean.
Neil dried off and wrapped the towel around himself and dashed to the bedroom. It had taken months of living with the guys before he felt comfortable enough to do that but he only did it when he was 100% sure that no one would see him.
Andrew still was not back. Neil pulled on some sweats and one of Andrew’s black T-shirts. He picked up a paperback Andrew had left on the window ledge, something about a holistic detective agency, but he couldn’t focus. Where was Andrew?
Neil hunted around the room for his phone, finding it under the bed and completely drained of battery. He searched for the charger and got it plugged in, waiting impatiently until he could power it back on. He had one missed call. From Andrew. And one voicemail. With trembling fingers Neil tapped at the phone until he could hear Andrew’s voice, low and tense: “Can you come get me?”
we got the houseclean for the landlord to do a walkthru
(mostly the husband, while I was sleeping, he has evil insomnia, but now our house is so pretty?)
and then we got a realtor
and actually went and looked at a house
with a horror movie room, istg
it made me think of that twitter spiel that’s been wandering around, with the lady who said she suddenly realized she was every dumb white lady in every horror movie ever and all because of some roses and a porcelain tub? I mean, we actively noticed the creepy, but still
for one thing the place didn’t smell right
the realtor was all, dogs maybe?
but I’ve been in scuzzy pet stores and shelters, I’ve known people who had sick pets or sick people and got behind with the pets
it was not dogs
(speaking of, they just had the dogs in the backyard, running around while no one was home, so not only is that not safe for the dogs, we the people viewing the house couldn’t actually look at the back of the house, or the foundation, or the yard, or the fence, because free-range unknown dogs jumping about.)
the smell also wasn’t, you know, oh we forgot to take the trash out and it sat for a week, or oops we should’ve shampooed the rugs this was
unpleasant and yet completely unidentifiable
(I mean, I don’t think it was a dead body smell, to judge from previous experience with roadkill and that one time we got squirrels in the walls when I was a kid? but it was not a good thing either)
and one of the bedrooms was locked
including the one from the bathroom, like, have you ever seen a bedroom-to-bathroom door that is lockable from inside the bedroom rather than the bathroom?
and no one was home, but both doors were locked so like … how did the owner get in there?
why would you lock a door when you have an appointment for a realtor to show your house so people have to be able to walk through it?
Summary/Request: James Barnes is the local neighbourhood cop known for saving cats from trees and walking people home at night. It just so happens that he lives in your apartment building, in the apartment across from yours.
The wooden panels creak softly as you step inside the silent studio. The white walls give the room a heavenly glow, but it’s nothing compared to the radiance of the scattered canvases. Along every side of the room, line various paintings. Some unfinished, and some only with a single stroke of medium. You love every single one of them.
The floors are speckled with year-old stains from oil paints, charcoal, and cold coffee. You wonder how the walls still lay untouched.
A lone easel sits in the center of the room, its legs buried by crumbled paper, paint tubes, and broken brushes. You walk over and sit on the wooden stool next to the stand. Your eyes are drawn to his latest work. You admire the vibrant colors and wonder how he does it. It’s just a base layer of blues and whites, but a strange warmth envelopes your heart.
Finally, finally, they had gotten the chance to stay in a hotel. Not one of those run down though still wonderful motels they passed all the time, or the caravans that they rented because actual mattresses and facilities couldn’t be passed up for long. But an honest to six hotel cost a lot of money and they had finally saved enough for them to rent a room. Hunts for days as well as chasing leads for all those royal tombs had them all but dragging feet to get into the room. Almost immediately a fight for the shower broke out between the three others he was with, Ignis citing reasons why he should get first shower, Prompto trying to use his admittedly adorable expression to make it in first. In the end though it was Gladio that had gotten in first, while Noctis himself all but passed out on the bed that he and his shield would occupy right up until the point when it was time to bunk down.
Noctis always slept with Ignis because the man could single handedly calm whatever terrors he had with very little effort. Other reasons could be brought up, but the point of it was Gladio slept near the door to be the first to defend them if needed be and he didn’t care if Prompto clung to him while sleeping. Ignis himself enjoyed how still his prince was while sleeping. But up until they were ready to bunk down they swapped, Noctis with either Gladio or Prompto and Ignis with whomever he chose.
Distantly, he realized that his shield had returned and was urging him to get up and go clean up. The argument was made that he can sleep the moment he was clean and in sleep clothes, but not sooner than that. So he did move, trudging in with grumbles of too much logic and why he wasn’t allowed to just shower in the morning, but he did so now with little more complaint. Stepping out of the bathroom, his mind vehemently protested the fact that the room was colder than where he’d been, especially given that he was in a tanktop ( one of Gladio’s old ones, because they were too big and wonderfully comfortable ) and boxers. The covers would be cold, inside and out, so really his choice was made.
The book in Gladio’s hand was quietly pushed aside and his quiet words of reproach ignored in favor of laying against he expanse of muscle that he flaunted day in and day out. Noctis gave little care that his hair was wet, because he knew the other was not only warm to start, but would still be slightly warmer because of his shower. In response, the book was set aside in favor of retrieving the towel around his shoulders and gently fluffing his hair until no water clung to it. Only then was he pulled up to rest entirely on Gladio’s torso, head coming to rest on his collarbone with a sigh.
Around them was a scuffle as to who was next ( as Noctis hadn’t chosen who would take the next one ) before Prompto ultimately won out and Ignis came to sit beside them on the bed, making quiet conversation with the other elder of their group. Something about what they would do tomorrow, how dangerous they were willing to be to make up the vast amount of money they’d spent on this room, or where it was they’d be camping for the future. He didn’t hear the responses though he could certainly feel Gladio responding by the vibrations in his chest. It was nice all things considered, but they brought him out of the sleep like state he was in. Would that he could pull a hand up to keep him from talking and clamp it over his mouth to silence the words coming out, but with his arms pinned underneath him and Gladio’s arm holding him close, there was little in the way of silencing he could manage.
Would that he could have joined in any other conversation for the evening, or any of the games that likely were played before everyone turned in, but the past few days of warping around and putting enough magic in flasks for the other three to be able to power a city through whatever means had drained him of any and all energy he had to spare.
In the morning he would not have moved much, laying on his side and still clutched to his shield’s chest while Ignis tried valiantly to pull the prince from his clutches. It was his turn to help cook breakfast in the small kitchenette that they had or it would have been if he’d been able to escape, but the death grip he was in was more effort than it was worth to pull him out of. Drifting back off was easy when one was enveloped in warmth and though it was only an hour later when he woke alone he felt none of the chill he perhaps should have.
What truly got him out of bed was Prompto teasing him with a picture he took after he’d passed out. Noctis had to get up before he was allowed to see, and he was glad that he did. Prompto’s skill with a camera had done him well again. The picture showed Noctis on top of Gladio, his lower half situated between Gladio’s bent but spread legs, while his arms lay half pinned beneath him and between the other’s arms. Gladio himself had also managed to fall asleep at that point, the arm that had been holding his book laying off the side of the bed and loosely gripping the book as if dropping it weren’t the worst thing in the world.
On either side of them were the other two, taking advantage of their lowered defenses. Ignis looked like he was trying to pull the book free while Prompto was both aiming the camera and trying very hard to pester the sleeping men. Judging by the next picture, in which Gladio had rolled over onto his side and pulled his sleeping partner closer to his chest, the blonde had succeeded in irritating him enough to get a response though it wasn’t at all what they’d planned on.
The series of pictures ( because the creative choice had been to continue pissing off the man that could easily break any one of them ) had Noctis smiling while he ate the quickly prepared toast and eggs. If he saved the first picture to his phone to show Gladio later Prompto said nothing, merely going on about how photogenic most of them were and how they gave him the best shots.
The prince just needed to make absolutely certain to put his best friend in the hot seat next time. Maybe seeing how he couldn’t move and had to put up with Gladio and Ignis would give the perfect fodder for embarrassing pictures of him.