paws folded

/αγκαλιά με τούτο το γάτο, που με τα χρόνια εικάζω,
θα μπορεί, ας πούμε,
να μιλά για τα ανόητα νιάτα μου, για τα περασμένα χρόνια/

anonymous asked:

hello so i was wondering if youd be willing to draw a cat that's like, upside down on it's head i guess? my best friend, a gorgeous black kitty, recently passed and i wanted something sweet to remember her by. she was always very silly and liked to lay on her back, paws up, one ear folded under her head. i know artists get asked to draw stuff for others like 24/7 which i TOTALLY get is annoying, so pleeease dont feel obligated to. either way, i love your art and i hope it takes you somewhere

awww anon im so sorry about your kitty! don’t worry youre not annoying. i hope this is ok

anonymous asked:

Can I request a fic, where MC gets kidnapped by mint eye and Jumin has to rescue her, but when he finds her she has amnesia and doesn't remember him. He takes her back to his apartment but she still can't remember anything, so she leaves and slowly starts getting her memories back. (This is really sad, so don't feel pressured to do this one) P.S. I really love your fics!!💗❤

I don’t have any issue doing this but I actually have so many memory loss requests???? I don’t know what to do???? I think I’ll do a few but then otherwise it’d just be rinse and repeat??? IDK (*;´□`)ゞ

Anyhow, thank you and have a fantastic day darling! Thank you!!  (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

———————————————————————————————————–

“They’re going to be so much happier you know.” 

Jumin had simply just raised the phone to his ear, answering a constant caller in the past few hours. 

“Excuse me?”

“They’re going to be so much happier now. We’re going to do what you never could.” 

“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number,” He frowned, his brow furrowing, a hint of worry brimming inside of him. “You may want to try some other-”

“We know exactly who we’re talking to Mr. Jumin Han,” The voice replied, light and airy, somehow content despite their words. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

He tensed.

“No, I believe I don’t.” 

“You’re a bit out of the loop then I suppose,” They cooed. “Don’t worry, your beloved will be able to show you soon enough.” 

They didn’t even have to say a name for Jumin to know.

“What have you done with MC?” He shot out from his seat, his body becoming colder than ice, his tone lowering almost like a growl, suspended in an undeniably brittle tone nonetheless. “Where are they?” 

“I just told you, they’re about to be much…much happier,” They assured him, every inch of the tone honeyed. “You could join them…if you’d like.” 

He stepped out into the hall, gesturing to Jahee to come close, mouthing to her.

“Police. Now.” 

He returned back to the call, mustering whatever strength he had not to think of the worst.

For even the slightest, threatened to break him.

“How could I do that?” 

“Be our guest of honor,” They replied. “What better way to express your love than to embrace true peace beside them?” 

He asked the same question.

“How could I do that?”

“We will provide you with an invitation,” They answered. “you’ll know what it is when you receive it.” 

Before he could even speak another word, they hung up.

“Who was that?” 

“I-I don’t know…” He muttered, suddenly a weight taking over him, the worry he had been withholding now suddenly overwhelming him, his heart threatening to shatter like glass.

“B-But t-they…they took MC…” He murmured, barely above a whisper. “T-They took MC!“ 

“I’ll call police immediately Mr. Han, I’m sure they’ll be able to trace the call as soon as possible.“ 

"I-I want l-law enforcement here now!” He exclaimed, twisting to face her as she made her way down the hall, her phone already dialing the emergency line. 

“Y-Yes sir.” 

And as police were on their way, he received a text.

His phone had buzzed as he paced endlessly in his office, on the brink of breaking, his hands curled into fists, his nails so engrained in his palm blood had begun to dribble. 

At the notification, however, he nearly jerked back, thrashing it out from his pocket, eyes widening as he received a single address.

And a small poignant message.

‘Eternal bliss is on its way’ 

Needless to say, it was shown to the police. 

Law enforcement listened to all he had to say, listening to the call and tracking the address, formulating a plan alongside his assets. 

It was simply a matter of getting to you.

The building they had come to was pristine and yet somehow eerie, a mint eye just above the door. 

So much of the building seemed to be plastered in that color, leaving only a pit growing in his stomach.

“Mr. Han, are you sure you want to go in there?” 

He nodded, absolute certainty in his gaze, tightening his fingers on the pistol he was given.

“Yes, I am.” 

And he slipped it into his pocket. 

“We’ll be coming around the back,” An officer restated. “Just keep them occupied so we can come in.” 

“Alright.” 

The personnel gestured to one another pressing their bodies to the wall as they skulked to the side, curving about into the shadows, melding in as Jumin left them, approaching the door.

It was opened with hardly the slightest touch, unlocked, revealing what looked more like a throne room, people gathered and huddled together before a throne a horrifyingly familiar face sitting upon it.

Rika. 

She gave him a silvery smile, a venomous sort of cheer coating her.

“Jumin! It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other don’t you think?” 

His eyes widened like dinner plates, jaw nearly dropping as he shook his head.

“Y-You’re dead…y-you’ve been dead.” 

“In a sense,” She chuckled. “but I’ve been reborn. And soon, you will be too.” 

She stood up, signaling to someone amongst the crowd.

“That is after all, what MC would’ve wanted.” 

“W-Would’ve?” It was stale on his tongue, fear rippling through him.

“Yes, well-they can’t truly tell you themself.”

“W-Why’s that…?”

“One must abandon their old life to accept the new,” Rika sighed. “They were very reluctant at first, however, I must admit but…I think they’ve finally come to accept it. Isn’t that right MC?”

V.

V led you out from the crowd unable to meet his eyes as you were brought for everyone to see. 

Jumin thought he murmured something, but he hardly heard it.

He hardly heard anything.

All he focused on was you.

The warmth and delight that was one seemingly engraved in your features were now gone, a muted blankness in your gaze, not even a tinge of a smile tugging at your lips like they used to.

You were hollow.

“M-MC…” He whispered, staggering forward. “Darling…”

“Hello…” You muttered, not even looking at him. “It’s lovely to meet everyone-” 

“Get down on the ground! Get down now!” 

Police swept through the room, Jumin rushing forward after you, shoving V aside as he took you in his arms, pulling you close as everyone huddled to the floor.

But there was no laughter escaping from you.

No feeling of your fingers wrapping around him in an embrace, or your head burying in the crook of his neck. 

Just limp.

Just nothing.

Even as you returned to your home.

There was nothing.

You sat in the dining room, staring emptily ahead, only turning to Jumin when he addressed you.

“MC,” He leaned over the table, locking eyes with you. “MC what’s wrong?”

They had said there may be minor memory loss.

But this, it wasn’t minor. 

“What’re you talking about?”

“You’re not acting like yourself.” 

“How do you know how I act?” You questioned. “I don’t even know you.” 

“You-what?” He furrowed his brow, his heart stopping dead in its tracks. 

“I’ve never seen you before in my life,” You rephrased. “I don’t even know why I’m here.” 

“Love, I’m your husband!” 

“I’m not married.” 

He rounded about to you, taking your hand, slipping off the wedding ring and revealing the engraving to you on the inside.

“Forever my love”

“We’ve been married for several years now.” He exclaimed. “I gave this to you on our wedding day.” 

“Why would I marry a stranger?” 

“You didn’t, we’re in love.” 

“I’ve never been in love before.” 

He felt his heart break again.

“W-We tell each o-other we love each other e-every day,” He felt his composure begin to break, a devastating sorrow welling inside of him. “S-So often it a-annoys people!” 

“But I don’t love you.” 

“I don’t even know you.” 

Tears.

He hadn’t even realized they were trickling down his cheeks until they fell onto the table, as though the tethers connected to his happiness had been severed.

Because they had.

Because you had been the tethers.

You had been the happiness. 

“Y-You don’t mean that…” He laughed, hoping, praying it was some sort of cruel joke.

He would’ve taken that.

He would’ve taken that over the truth.

Anyday.

“I should go.” You stood up slowly, turning away so you didn’t meet his face. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“I would never confuse you with anyone.” He raised his tone, a mixture of anger, hurt and frustration drenching it. “There’s no one else like you in this world. No one else so kind and understanding!” 

He raced after you as you approached the door, grabbing onto your hand.

“No one else I ever loved.” 

“No one else I ever will love.” 

And for just a moment. 

There was a revival.

The warmth and kindness returned to you, the light that was brighter and more beautiful than the very sun bursting back into your eyes.

And your fingers, lacing with his.

But only, for a moment. 

It all reverted back in an instant, the void husk retaking you, your grip dropping pitifully. 

“I…” You hesitated. “I really hope you find who you’re looking for.” 

You left.

The only sound in his head was that of the lock clicking as the door was shut. 

And his body as he crumbled to the ground.

He couldn’t quite describe how he felt. 

Perhaps a mixture of denial and grief entangling around his throat, snatching away whatever air was left inside of him, a constant gasping and sputtering filling him.

He snagged onto the carpet, holding onto it as if it were some sort of support system, shuddering as though doused in frigid, unforgiving waters.

He felt as if he were drowning.

But no one came to help.

It had felt like ages until he was even able to process the world around him once again, snapped back into reality as Elizabeth 3rd rubbed against him, mewing as though confused by his pain. 

He had lazily raised his head to meet her, sapphire eyes meeting is, purring instantly bursting from her. 

He swallowed hard.

“Hello…” He stroked her back, her fur fluffing up in her joy, collapsing onto the floor, her paws folding and unfolding. 

And while it felt impossible, he stood up.

And he carried on.

In a sense.

He didn’t leave his home. 

He put off work each day, not even needing to explain to Jahee or his father.

All he received were apologies. 

And he too became a shell of his former self.

He would simply stare out the windows.

Or the door.

How else could he truly react?

You hadn’t gone missing.

You weren’t hidden away from the outside world.

You had been free to do as you please.

You just left.

You just left him. 

Occasionally he’d see a message.

A message from you.

Though it didn’t seem you were expecting a response.

“I have your number on my phone. There are hearts by your name. A cat too.” 

“Each time I see your picture I think I’m supposed to know you.” 

“I keep dreaming of your voice saying words you’ve never said to me before.” 

“You said your heart was forever mine.” 

“You said you’d always stay by my side.” 

“Did you say those things to me before?” 

But he always responded regardless.

“There’s hearts by your name as well.”

“You are, you knew me better than anyone.” 

“It still is.” 

“I still would be.” 

“I said those words to you nearly every day.” 

And they changed little by little. 

“I keep thinking of you, and I smile.”

“You cried at a wedding.” 

“Elizabeth 3rd is a sweet cat, she used to sleep with me at night instead of you. I think you’d get jealous.” 

“I remember an arm, always around me.” 

“I think I miss you.” 

No matter how much he hurt, he replied.

“I’m glad to hear you still do.” 

“It was our wedding.” 

“I did, you would stay up coddling her, it was sweet, but I missed you falling asleep with me.” 

“That was mine.” 

“I miss you too.” 

Until one day, it changed.

“Call me, please.” 

He did.

Without question.

And you began.

“I’m sorry.” 

Your voice.

It felt like sunshine held him.

Because it was yours.

It was truly yours.

“W-What?”

“I-I didn’t want to forget you…” You explained. “I-I didn’t want to forget your smile-o-or your jokes, y-your laughter…I didn’t want to forget you…but I did…and I hurt you…” 

You began to weep.

“No-no darling p-please I don’t want to hear you upset.” 

“H-How can you say that?” You asked, weakly. 

“You couldn’t have helped it dear, what happened-what they did to you wasn’t your fault, it never was.” 

“B-But what I said to you-” 

“Do you remember me?”

A pause.

And then, truth.

“I do.” 

“Then…can you come home…?”

“C-Come home?” 

“Yes-please.” 

“I-I would like that-a-a lot actually.” 

“I would too.” 

“R-Really?”

“There’s nothing I’d like more darling.”

“Darling…I missed hearing you say that…”

“I missed saying it to you.” 

“Jumin…?” 

You were quiet, yet earnest all the same.

“Yes?”

“I love you.” 

And suddenly that misery that had built up within.

It dissipated.

Instead, there was joy.

And pure, absolute adoration.

“I love you too.”

Dog Person [a Barry Allen imagine]

Request: Can you do a Barry imagine we’re his gf is a werewolf and he and the team ask to see her shift into a wolf and barry is trying not to be super giddy (because he is a dog person and no one can tell me otherwise)

a/n: he totally is a dog person /requests closed right now/


Barry’s elbows rest on the metallic desk, fingers curled underneath his chin. A broad smile stretches across his slender face, creating little dimples in his cheeks. Sighing, you frown at how excited the team is; I mean, Cisco’s practically pulling a fangirl moment, waving his hands in front of his chest, and Caitlin is almost jumping up and down. You never should’ve opened your mouth, you realize this now.

Reluctantly, you morph into your wolf form; sleek black fur covering your little body, eyes shifting to a bright electric blue. A squeal leaves your boyfriend, surprising the rest of the team (especially Wally; he’s like ‘wtf?’). His notorious black and white converses pad to where you squat, gray hoodie sleeves pulled over his knuckles, which are in front of his face.

There’s a string of noises from him, followed by a small giddy yelp. Oh my god, your boyfriend is adorable! “She’s a wolf!” he squeaks, peering behind him, face scrunched up. “You’re a wolf!” Barry exclaims, flapping his arms around. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD! This is amazing! Can I hold you?! I’m gonna hold you.”

You’re suddenly scooped up in his arms, pressed firmly against his soft pullover hoodie, paws folded up in the air. If you were in human form, you would be laughing hysterically. “You’re so cute! With your lil…nose and eyes and paws!” Barry giggles, green eyes squinted in happiness as he sways back and forth. Deciding to have some fun, you lick his cheek, making him yelp and giggle harder.

Cisco comes closer, “I wanna pet her too, dude!” he beams, sticking out one of his tan hands.

“No!” Barry yells, shielding your body from the engineer. “She’s my girlfriend.” he pouts, carding his long fingers through your fur. You flinch, enjoying the feeling of him scratching behind your ear. It’s a dog thing.

Putting his hands up in surrender, Cisco steps back with Caitlin. “Touchy…” he mutters under his breath, tapping on the keyboard; Caitlin chuckles quietly.

Continuing to sway, Barry walks around the Cortex with you in his arms. (Wally watches, face twisted in confusion.) “My girlfriend is a werewolf… my girlfriend is a werewolf… this is the best day of my life!” the speedster coos in a sing-song voice, nuzzling his head in your fur. “I fucking love you.”

“Barry, we kind of, erm, need you?” Caitlin says awkwardly, pointing to the screen, “There’s a robbery on thirty”

“Wally can do it, right Kid Flash?” Barry hums, not even looking in his direction. With a nod, Wally is off. You have a feeling you aren’t changing back anytime soon.

Reunions, Of A Sort

A MHA fanfiction. One-shot.

AO3

Summary: A museum Class 1-A visits has an exhibit for older heroes. Toshinori takes a look at the section dedicated to his predecessor, not expecting a comforting talk with a stranger.


The building was large, a high roof making the main area feel more like an indoor stadium than a functional museum. Toshinori had to give a grin when several of his students just stared upwards, some so engrossed that they nearly fell backwards.

“Now that’s how you build a dome,” Sero said, awe in his voice.

Bakugou snorted. “We practice at USJ, and you’re still baffled by a fucking building.”

“Dude, chill,” Kirishima said, grinning and throwing an arm around Bakugou’s shoulders. “It’s never a bad time to appreciate the finer points of, um, architecture.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes.

Aizawa shuffled to the head of the class, hands shoved in his pockets. Everyone quieted down when he raised his voice. “The first and second floors of this building get few visitors on days like today, which should give you the privacy you need to conduct your research.”

Toshinori nodded. “Most of what you need will be here on the first floor, so be sure to look at everything before going up to the second.”

Aizawa waved his hand and the students broke up into groups, several heading directly into the depths of the museum while others consulted a directory. Toshinori watched as the other teacher found a convenient bench and stretched out, pulling a sleeping mask out of his jacket.

“I think I’ll wait on the second floor, if that’s alright,” Toshinori said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Aizawa just grunted and propped up his feet, slipping the mask over his eyes.

Toshinori smiled and shook his head. It didn’t take him long to find his way to the stairs, and he was happy to see that they were wide and well spaced. Normally he would hesitate to use stairs if another option was available - his left hip was warped enough to give him issues shifting his weight - but he was feeling good today, and didn’t want to waste his chance.

Keep reading

FIC: A Bear Frets

Fandom: Critical Role
Characters: Trinket & Zahra Hydris
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,017
Summary: Trinket would do anything to protect Vex. If only she would pick more reasonably-sized foes. Zahra lends an ear to his worries.
Also on: AO3
Notes: For Critical Role Relationship Week. Takes place around episode 56. 


Mostly, the people Trinket travels with understand him.

Vex best of all, obviously. He doesn’t know her language—he doesn’t have a language of his own, not really, not the way she understands it—but he knows her, and she knows him. He understands the smallest quirks in her face, what the flick of her eyes means, every twitch of her fingers in midair, the fluctuation of her voice, even if the words are never clear. They’ve never needed language. They’ve always had each other.

But things are different, now, since the dragons came. More complicated than ever before. Trinket finds himself with feelings so snared and tangled that he can’t make sense of them, and, worse, he can’t convey them. Not even to Vex. They grow like a weight in his chest, ache like thorns in his paws, and he can’t shake free of them.

After the black dragon dies, though, and they return to Whitestone, Trinket catches a familiar scent in the air: Zahra.

Keep reading

[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: a youthful looking brown tiger/tabby cat is laying on her back, paws folded elegantly across her chest, eyes closed, sleeping peacefully. she is laying on a sheet with a bird of paradise design. she looks like the happiest, most content kitty. one ear is sticking out and one is folded under her head as she naps, but she doesn’t seem to mind.]

This is Isis. My ex and I adopted her from GAIN the animal shelter in Guam. She fell in love with me and is the best thing my ex ever did for me. If I’m home she’s either circling my feet or in my lap. ❤

Isis submitted by @tiddysprinklesx will be supporting a shelter of her human’s choice!

Reblog, like, and reply between today, May 13, 12 PM EST and Saturday, May 20, 11:59 PM PST to get Isis the most notes and a donation to a shelter of her human’s choosing!

New Year is coming! :)

Are you ready for the New Year holidays?

Cinque, Dieci, Venti

James designs something important. Jessie distracts him. Find it here on AO3. Rocketshipping, Fluff.

If you liked it, please leave a review on the archive!


It needs to be perfect.

Frowning slightly, James scrubs out a few lines with his eraser, then squints at his unfinished design. The sun is directly overhead now, making it difficult to focus even under the beach umbrella. He rolls his shoulders back a few times to stretch, then carefully redraws the lines.

There, that’s better.

The structure needs to be at least seven feet long, and probably almost as wide. Large enough to accommodate two adults of above-average height, a small but restless cat, and a blue balloon pokémon prone to talking in his sleep. James supposes they’ll sleep in their usual configuration: Jessie on the right, himself on the left, and Meowth sandwiched between them. Wobbuffet will likely want to be as close to his “mother” as possible, so the design will have to allow for some extra space on the right side of the mattress. For the frame, a fallen acacia koa he’d spotted a half-mile from Bewear’s cave will do nicely. For the mattress stuffing, he’ll collect pikipek feathers. According to his guidebook, the woodpecker pokémon will soon begin molting in preparation for their evolution into trumbeak.

“Here! Pass it here!”

Wobbuffet!”

“Pipe down, will ya?!”

James smiles as he continues his work, hearing the distant voices of his little family. Jessie, Wobbuffet, and Mareanie are frolicking in the surf, tossing a large white beach ball back and forth. Meowth floats on an inflatable raft a bit further out, sunglasses on and paws folded neatly on his furry stomach. Mimikyu skulks on the beach a few feet away from the umbrella, clicking ominously and pushing sand into little piles. James tries to ignore the pokémon’s frightening voice, and instead focuses on Wobbuffet’s exuberant cries and Jessie’s screams of laughter. His heartbeat quickens at the sound of her voice, audible even over the winds and the tides.

In Alola, Jessie is happier than he’s ever seen her. His partner is still fiery and assertive, but he hasn’t sensed desperation in her voice or detected loneliness in her eyes since they made their home in the island paradise. She’s more likely to be affectionate with Wobbuffet and to joke with Meowth, and she’s made friends with Mareanie, despite the initial animosity between them. Startlingly, Jessie has even allowed him to take the lead on a few missions… and in another arena as well. James bites his lip, remembering yesterday’s moonlit tryst, her moans of pleasure, the imprint of his fingertips lingering on her thighs.

Perhaps Jessie is happy because she knows now that I am hers and she is mine.

He flushes guiltily, berating himself for the thought. Though the tenderness in his partner’s blue eyes tells him everything he needs to know, Jessie is still reluctant to put her feelings into words. James won’t rush her. He’ll continue to show her in every word and action how much he adores her, and someday soon, she’ll be ready too.

“Are you going to join us, or are you going to waste the whole day on that silly sketchbook?” He lifts his head from his design at the teasing words, and can’t suppress a gasp. The pokémon continue their game in the surf, but Jessie has left the water and is now standing before him in her simple black bikini. She wrings out her wet hair, causing rivulets of seawater to roll down her pale curves. Jessie is some ocean goddess come to captivate and claim him, and James is utterly helpless before her.

“In a minute, Jess,” he manages, feeling his blush return. Jessie basks in the attention, cocking one hip to show off a little more. Her pale skin shimmers in the sunlight, water droplets sparkling like jewels. “I hope you remembered to wear sunscreen,” he says, and Jessie rolls her eyes.

“You worry too much, dear,” she says, crawling under the umbrella and kneeling behind him. She presses her torso flush against his back, her knees on either side of his hips. James dares to place an affectionate hand on one of her smooth thighs, and Jessie winds an arm around his waist in response, pulling him close. Her sharp chin is nestled in the crook of his neck, and tendrils of damp crimson hair soak his shirt.

“What are you working on, anyway?” she asks, peering over his shoulder at the sketched design.

James smiles sidelong at her. “It was supposed to be a surprise.” She pokes him in the side, eliciting a small yelp. “Hey! All right, I’ll tell you. I know I’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.” Jessie hums contentedly into his neck. She’s always admired his talents for architecture and mechanics, especially because such pursuits have always mystified her.

“It’s the bed you asked for,” James admits, his voice shaky despite himself. Jessie’s heart jumps in her chest. That was her James, unfailingly loyal and infinitely capable of the deepest, most enduring type of love. No one has ever taken care of her like this; she’s always been too afraid to let them. But now…

She swallows, trying in vain to dispel the tightness in her throat. “Fit for a princess?” she tries to tease, but the words are choked and watery.

James lifts her left hand to his lips, pressing a kiss into her palm. “No. A queen.”

“Oh, James.” Jessie can’t bear the moisture welling in her eyes. With gentle fingertips, she turns his head to meet hers and kisses him, the design forgotten in his lap.

Jessie tastes like lipstick and saltwater, and James can’t get enough. He wonders fleetingly if Meowth is watching before he surrenders completely to the feeling of Jessie’s velvet mouth on his. When her soft tongue slips past his parted lips to lick at his own, he melts into her embrace, tangling one hand in her damp hair. The kiss is over far too soon, and when he whines a little at the loss of contact, she chuckles and kisses him again, slow and deep and sweet.

James sucks gently at Jessie’s lower lip as they pull apart, enjoying her soft moan. She pecks his cheek, then rises to her feet, brushing sand from her knees. Her cheeks are pink, and he knows it has little to do with the sun and wind.

“James?” she asks, smirking.

“Yes, dear?”

“About the bed. Make sure it’s sturdy.” She grins at his dumbstruck expression, then turns and runs back into the surf to join the others. James can do nothing but flop onto his back under the umbrella, nearly catatonic with joy.

She’ll be the death of me. But what a way to go.