tail tucked

Territory (Dogboy Hybrid AU) | Taehyung x You

Rated: M 

Warning: Graphic hybrid smut. Please don’t read this if you’re not into it because I don’t want to scar you

Summary: Dogboy Tae gets extremely possessive when “that time of the month” rolls around and find’s it hard to control his natural instincts and his dominating nature during the monthly occurrence.

Note: Ah, okay, so this is my first time ever writing about Hybrids and stuff like that, so please bear with me. The idea came to mind while I was surfing the interwebz, so I just thought I’d write it up. What a thing to be my first post lol, but oh well.. Idgaf. I’m pretty much uneducated on “Dogboys” but I’m giving it my best shot.. HUZZAH!!~ 

Words: 2,932


You were driving him insane. The intoxicating scent of you calling out to him, begging for him to mount you and claim you as his own before any other male could get to you. It was hard to fight his natural instincts, but he knew better than to force you into anything and you had told him you didn’t feel well, stating you had ‘cramps’ or something along those lines. But your body was crying out for him to dominate you, your body needed him, he could sense it, and it was taking every ounce of his willpower to refrain from mounting you whenever he was in your presence. And that was quite a lot.

It was already hard enough not to mount you, so he really couldn’t help his need to follow you around everywhere, his possessive nature having to make sure no other male could get near you, his precious bitch. Just the thought of it made the hair on the back of his neck raise, his hands clench into fists and a snarl appear on his lips, slightly revealing his canines hid beneath. 

He was in no mood to be tested today in particular. He could sense you were at your peak of ovulation, which was when it was most hard for him to suppress his feral desires. It was so strange to him how humans were so unaware to what their bodies needed. Couldn’t you sense even a little bit how badly your body was yearning for him? He could only shake his head, perplexed by your utter oblivion. 

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Kitten!Viking

Originally posted by endless-puppies

Originally posted by proudtobeamisfit

Ivar x Reader /Ragnarssons

AN: I’m sorry this isn’t proofread and I don’t really know what I wrote but my migraine is so painful and I think I can hear time lol ok. So Ima drop this on you then got straight to bed because I hurt.


If you hadn’t seen the little one dragging it’s around you might have driven straight past them. Four little sopping wet kittens were gathered at the side of the road, the biggest one was yowling at the littlest who seemed far too concerned with being spotted to pay attention.

“Hello there.” You said softly. The pretty brown one rushed over and snuffled your pockets, the biggest strolled around you, sniffing and inspecting you while the second smallest just sat and stared. The smallest, an all black ball of fur, dragged himself over and made so much noise that you carefully picked him up.

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Heart on the Line (part 11)

Masterlist

You and Bucky had your differences in college, but now you need a place to stay and he needs a roommate, and in order to make ends meet, you two start a phone sex line together.  

“For a Good Time, Call…” AU


author: sugardaddytonystark (formerly buckysbackpackbuckle)
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
word count: 1603

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Taylor Swift the Copy Cat

Originally posted by cardiiib

I sat here and watch the preview and my first reaction AND THIS BITCH STOLE FROM BEYONCÉ. OH MY FUCKING GOD SHE STOLE FROM FORMATION. THIS WHITE FEMINIST MANIPULATIVE BITCH STOLE FROM BEYONCÉ FORMATION VIDEO. I am going to sit here and break this down for Y'all. For all you Taylor dick riders and super fans, stay off my page and stay off this post because I am spreading nothing but the truth.

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An open letter to the girl who saved me today

When I went into the store today after work, I had decided I was going to be brave. I had a pretty good day, and I wanted to reward myself with something I’d been eyeing for quite some time. Mens underwear.

I won’t lie, I stalled quite a bit before I slunk over to the mens underwear section, but eventually I wound up in the aisle looking over my various options. It was while I was trying to figure out what size I would be, that the man is all his socks and sandals glory came into the aisle. I barely had time to look up before he bellowed at me, “you fucking abomination”

I gaped like a fish while I tried to wrap my mind around the fact that yes, this was happening, and yes, he just yelled that at me. He said it again, and began to make his way towards me, very tall and very angry looking. All the clever things I wanted to say died in my throat and tears started pooling in my eyes.

Just as he was getting right up in my face, telling me about how there wasn’t a single god from any religion that would accept a piece of shit like me, you appeared at the end of the aisle. You ran towards us and put yourself between me and him like you weren’t a tiny 5 ft nothing. Then you stuck your finger in his face and told him to “shut the hole in his head that was spewing ignorance and hatred and get out because he wasn’t welcome here”. It was his turn to be the fish then, and before he could say another thing you shouted “GET THE FUCK AWAY” drawing the attention of shoppers who had been so conveniently hard of hearing before. He tucked tail and left.

You turned to me then, put the underwear I had dropped back in my hand and asked if I was okay. I was sobbing and could feel my face doing the ugly thing it does when I cry. I nodded, you asked me if there was anything else I wanted to look at in the mens section, I shook my head. You asked if I had anymore shopping to do. I huffed out that I wanted some bananas. You took my hand and lead me towards produce. You told me I was beautiful. You told me I would look so handsome in the underwear I picked. You helped me pick out bananas and told me my future was so bright and wonderful it was practically blinding. 

You held my hand all the way to the cashier, and then outside. You asked me if I wanted a ride, I told you I’d like to walk, that I needed some time to cry. You stared at me very seriously, then hugged me so hard I could feel all me pieces coming back together. You said “I don’t even know who you are and I don’t care, I love you”

I cried all the way back home. 

Thank you. Thank you for everything. For who you are, and for what you did. Plenty of other people passed by and did nothing, but you came in like a shining beacon and all I can say is thank you. You saved me when I was all alone. Thank you.

None Of Him No More

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre: Smut, Angst

Summary: When Namjoon stands you up on your anniversary dinner, you automatically seek out Jeon Jungkook, your fiancé employee, and your part-time lover, to work your frustrations out. But maybe Jungkook doesn’t feel like being the punching back in your twisted relationship with his boss anymore.

This is part of the 2k request list. You can check out the rest of the stories here.


You slam the door to your car, not caring if you break its hinges from the force, and stomp towards the opening of the garage, your angry and ungraceful gait in complete contrast with the elegant dress you wore and the dainty heels strapped to your feet.

“Namjoon! Namjoon!” You shout, walking in circles around the empty cavernous garage and calling out for your fiance.

“He’s not here.” A familiar voice informs you and you whip around in its direction, seeing Jungkook running a cloth over his shitty, DIYed car. He observes the fancy way you’re dressed, hair in a complex updo and body clad in a little a black dress. Namjoon must have stood you up. Again.

“Well, where is he?” You seethe.

“Fuck if I know,” Jungkook mutters and goes back to polishing his car.

“That bastard left me waiting for him in the restaurant for an hour. My family has been going to that restaurant for years. They all know me there. It’s a busy fucking restaurant and I kept stalling them. Telling them that my fiancé will be there any minute now. That he definitely won’t cancel without telling me. Do you know how humiliating that was? He won’t even answer his fucking phone.”

Jungkook only half-listens to your rant. He’s heard it a dozen times before. It was typical of his careless boss to promise you something and go back on his word. Jungkook just didn’t think he’d go so low as to ditch you on your anniversary. Fucking ungrateful hyung…

Giving up on your futile search, you turn your wrath towards the only victim in sight. “Is that piece of junk done yet?” You ask irritably, indicating the car he was busy polishing.

You can see a muscle pop up in his jaw at your choice of words. He’d spent a lot of time gathering parts and incorporating them into the car and fixing whatever glitches come up. Yet that doesn’t stop you from regarding it with distaste. After all, it was a piece of shit car and you’d offered to buy him a better one before.

No, you did get him another one. You even asked for all the specific things you heard him rave about countless of times before even though you couldn’t understand what they meant to save your life. You customized a car as close to his dream one as possible, and it was fucking expensive. You had to fight tooth and nail with your father to let you buy it because even though your family is filthy rich, that car still cost more than any other your family owned and it wasn’t even for you. But it didn’t matter, it was worth it to make your Jungkookie happy. You had it delivered to his house with you inside it, dressed up in a red dress and being the proverbial bow on top of his gift, knowing he had a thing for car sex and wanting to break in his gift. But what did he do when he saw it?

He rejected it. And He didn’t even fuck you.

Not only that but he got angry with you, striking up a meaningless fight then promptly marching back into his apartment and slamming the door in your face. You ended up with the car, and you made sure to always flaunt it in front of him, taking revenge on him for the way he spoke to you that day and taking delight in the way his eyes shone with longing every time you showed up with it.

“Yes.” He hums, not looking at you and that’s when you notice his weird demeanor. Normally, Jungkook would be all over you by now. With Namjoon absent and having pissed you off, you were all free for the taking. But there he was, polishing off his car for what must be the 3rd time since you got there, the anger and irritation radiating from his body palpable in the stale garage air.

“Well, why don’t we christen it then?” You stalk towards him. Whatever the reason for his gloomy aura is, you are determined to lift both your moods up. Jungkook finally looks at you, immediately feeling weak from the sultry look in your half-lidded eyes that has always brought him to his knees. But now he now steels himself against it, not willing to give in this time. You strut to the side of the car and pull open the backseat door, leaning against it and licking your lips slowly. “Why don’t you get inside, honey, and let me ride your pretty cock until you burst?”

It was tempting, almost too tempting. Jungkook could feel his cock already starting to harden just at the raspy tone you use to adorn your command and his legs ache to follow your order.

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Boyfriend/Girlfriend Feelings

Summary: Your feelings for Sam scare the life out of you. So you cling to Dean for guidance. One day when you drag them out to go swimming, Sam asks you about your feelings for his older brother, only to be surprised when he learns he’s had it all wrong.

A/N: I don’t know why, but in my mind the A/C in the bunker just…sucks.

Request: Alright here’s hoping I get in cause your writing is FANTASTIC. Sam x reader. They’ve been friends for years and they’re both crazy about one another but Sam thinks she’s into dean because of all the to me they spend togethet but he’s actually trying to help her get Sammy. Thanks:)

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Shirtless Winchesters - I know I need a warning for that.

Word Count: 1.7k

Originally posted by shirtlesssammy


You doubled over with laughter at the sight of Dean trying to flip the bacon while shirtless. The grease was spitting everywhere, and the way that he jumped and yelped every time a drop hit him was almost worthy of recording.

Somehow, you and Dean were both awake and ready for the day before Sam. Normally he was the one up before both of you.

So here you and Dean were, goofing around in the kitchen while cooking breakfast. It was hot in the bunker, the middle of summer was always the worst. The air-conditioning system in the bunker needed a serious update. You were wearing only a pair of shorts and a tank top, while Dean was only wearing his pyjama pants.

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jimin scenario | the cat whisperer

Originally posted by fyeahbangtaned

prompt: We’re both witches and our familiars keep trying to set us up on dates…

pairing: witch jimin x witch reader

requested by anon | 1.1k words | fluff


Jimin knocks on your door for the third time this week.

Normally, he’s happy to have an excuse to see you, rather than surviving on quick glimpses in town, stealing glances while you buy potion ingredients or browse old books.

But today, it’s an unhappy reason that brings him to your house - that is, the sick cat in his arms. When his familiar, Mistoffelees, started behaving strangely, you were the first name that came to his head, and not just because you were always on his mind. Coming from a long line of witches that specialised in potions for animals, you were the one the town turned to when their familiars fell ill. In the non-magic realm your kind are known as vets. Jimin knows you as ‘the animal whisperer’.

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Dog in Bed | Joyce Sidman

“Dog in Bed”
Joyce Sidman

Nose tucked under tail,
you are a warm, furred planet
centered in my bed.
All night I orbit, tangle-limbed,
in the slim space
allotted to me.

If I accidentally
bump you from sleep,
you shift, groan,
drape your chin on my hip.

O, that languid, movie-star drape!
I can never resist it.
Digging my fingers into your fur,
kneading,
     I wonder:
How do you dream?
What do you adore?
Why should your black silk ears
feel like happiness?

This is how it is with love.
Once invited,
it steps in gently,
circles twice,
and takes up as much space
as you will give it.

Don’t Have to Rush

Summary: Based off the song Toothbrush by DNCE. Seth and reader have had a Friends With Benefits relationship going on but one morning after, Seth and Y/n realize the other person is all they’ve ever wanted. Fluff. Slight angst. Smut.

TAGGING: @monsteramongmen-tamer @wildandfreepinkv0dka @hardcorewwetrash @imagineall-the-fandoms @shieldgirl95 @66psychotic99 @anerdysouthernbelle @traffficc @ridingmoxley @heelcharlie @m-a-t-91 @reigns420 @wrasslin-rollins @caramara3 @crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans  

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Peanut Butter - m.

Requested.

member: Jeon Jungkook

genre: Smut, Fluff, Dogboy!au

warnings: Nsfw, Mature Content, Hybrid Smut, Don’t eat peanut butter while reading this!

↠  words: 2.1k

Originally posted by apgujeon

You threw your drenched backpack, filled with the school books that have drowned a couple of time, in the corner of the apartment door. The small, homely apartment that you shared with your boyfriend. Both of you and Jungkook were college students and juggled with a part-time job to afford the rent together. Since you and him didn’t want to live among the crowded students in the University’s dorm. 

The apartment was placed nearby the sea, making the rents much more expensive. However, the clear view over the Busan sea was unforgettable. Although they forbid pets especially dogs. There’s a big red sign right outside of the door with no dogs allowed. Of course, Jungkook being Jungkook got quite offended by that.

At the same time, no one can know what Jungkook really is. It’s best to keep it as a secret.

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Fireproof // Part 2

Part One

Summary: Supernatural Half Blood Boarding School AU where students are paired with a human counterpart to help them adapt to the human world outside their supernatural communities.

Waking up with something constricting your leg was alarming. You had been dreaming that your leg was really heavy and you couldn’t run. Now you understood why. Your first thought was that Shawn was laying on your leg but that didn’t seem to be so. Shawn was curled up against your pillow, obviously having stolen it from under your head sometime in the night. He is pressed against your side and his blanket is half over you. You lift the blanket to look at your left leg because it’s really very tight and very hot and starting to ache. What you find shocks you for a second but then you remember what Shawn was. His tail is wrapped, coiled perfectly around your mid thigh down to your calf to your ankle. You had no idea that his tail was so…capable.

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anonymous asked:

You mentioned in another ask that dogs can't feel guilt, and I've seen studies on that before, so I'm not trying to discredit it, but do you know of any other reason a dog's behavior changes when they've broken a rule? [1 out of 2]

Ex: my dog wont greet me if he got into something or made a mess while I was gone. What’s the difference between guilt and change in behavior? (he was never punished, esp not afterwards) I’ve been curious about it, I appreciate any insight you have!

Think about how you usually greet your dog when you get home. Personally, I drop all my things, get on her level, and smoosh my dog’s face while telling her how much I missed her in a soft voice. 

Now think about the first time you came home to a mess or other broken rules. Personally, I crossed my arms, gave a stern look, and said “somebody was naughty today” in an unimpressed tone. Not a punishment by any means, but still not the regular greeting. 

This confused my dog. Why isn’t my human as happy to see me? She offered appeasement behaviour (whale eyes, hunched posture, tucked tail) to let me know that she was confused and concerned.

(Photo by Susan Schmitz)

Dogs are masters of reading human body language - we bred them to be! Every change in tone of voice or posture is noticed by them. Most dogs can also eventually figure out why you’re upset. They clue in that Trash on the Ground = Human isn’t happy to see me, so they offer appeasement behaviour whenever trash happens to be on the ground. 

(It’s noteworthy that unless you catch them in the act of emptying the trash, they won’t clue in to Dog in Trashcan = Human isn’t happy. That’s why punishing after the fact very very very rarely works.)

It’s the same thing for other rules that might be broken. Chances are, you were not impressed when your dog broke some rules. Your dog noticed that in your body language or tone of voice and is responding accordingly. 

We’ve talked about this in our FAQ before as well.

Here are some sources about dogs “acting guilty” in response to our (human) body language, for those of you who might be interested. XX, X, X

Hope that clarifies things! -C

One Breakfast at a Time

upperstories submitted:

(Rough Around the Edges, pt. 2)

Previous

Summary: The following morning… 

***

Boris’s feet felt prickly.

The first thought that dredged up the wolf’s mind from the thick, murky mires of sleep was that there was a foreign, uncomfortable feeling in his toes. It wasn’t quite painful, but it was distracting. Which was a shame; quite honestly, as the rest of him felt like it was swaddled in a soft, warm cloud, like lying on a mountain of fleece. He was dreaming of sleeping on the back of a large, comfy sheep. Maybe if he moved his feet right, he could shoo the strange sensation away and get back to sinking completely into the wool.

His toes twitched, and the tingling feeling went up both his legs completely. That hurt.

“YIPE!” Boris yelped, knees hiking in alarm, eyes flying open.

The first thing that greeted him was strange visual tones and hues, blurred from the sleep in his eyes and the tingling in his feet. They were—oh, whadyacallems?—Blues. And Greens. Only lighter, greyer, faintly cast across the ceiling above him, making him squint. It followed the outline of a windowpane.

His foggy mind thought, not for the first time:

How long will it take before them colors look normal?

Motion at his side had him shaking his noggin, revealing the familiar heads of to his pals, moppy and disheveled from sleep. Alice muttered something under her breath—when had her halo hung itself up on that lamp?— and Bendy snuggled closer into the pillows, a bit of drool staining the soft cushion.

Recognition stumbled into his brain as his eyes adjusted to the dim early morning light.

He wasn’t sleeping on a bed of fleece. He was sharing a bed with Alice and Bendy, feeling mighty cozy in spite of being too long to rightly fit on the mattress length-wise, which explained why his feet weren’t under the covers. The tingling must’ve been because they’d been leaning over the end board all night.

Asleep, his feet were asleep. That’s what this feeling felt like. Except… it was much stronger than how it’d felt before, back in the world drenched in ink.

Dang, the real world felt strange.

Trying his best not to disturb the other two sleeping Toons, Boris slowly pulled his bare feet under the blankets, wincing as he flexed the tingling feeling out of them. They were cold to the touch, as were the ends of his ears and snout, a stark difference compared to the comfy warm bubble formed underneath the covers from his proximity to his friends. If he stayed still enough, curled up a ball, maybe he could go back his sweet, soft, monochromatic dreams…

The door creaked, and Boris was awake.

In the semi darkness, the wolf made out the shape of a figure entering the room, familiar in spite of his loss of Toonification. It was Henry.

Err. At least. Boris was pretty sure it was Henry.

The man had Henry’s almost square-ish head, large ears, surly set face and all, but in place of the man’s wrinkled light green shirt and brown slacks was a plaid patterned collared shirt, all blues and grays, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and the bottom half of a dark grey jumpsuit, faded at the knees and the top half wrapped messily around his waist. His black work boots were word around the souls. It all smelled faintly of engine oil.

A change of clothes shouldn’t have been completely out of left field for the Toon (as he recalled, Bendy changed his wardrobe a number of times over a wide variety of episodes), but the old animator’s plainer duds had almost seemed glued to him. Seeing Henry in less plain-looking clothes felt like seeing a camel in a bunny onesie. Strange.

He silently watched Henry tread to the bedside table on Bendy’s side of the bed and leave a note next to the lamp. The man looked haggard, but clean. His hair was even combed.

Boris considered keeping his head down, pretending to be asleep. But then, just as it looked like he was about to leave, Henry stopped and turned around, looking back at the bed of Toons. Contemplating, eyes unfocused and glassy—from lack of sleep, perhaps?— grey circles under them. The wolf’s felt his heart clench, and he lifted his head.

“Henry?” he whispered.

Henry jumped and caught himself on the wall.

“JEEZ—” Henry breathed, forced his voice down. “Boris— scared the daylights outta me.”

“Sorry—!” Boris’s ears fell back. “Sorry.”

Henry put a hand to his chest and sighed. His eyes looked less glassy, more awake.

“Agh, I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Did Henry look guilty? Nah, it must’ve been Boris’s imagination.

“Nah,” said Boris, truthfully. “Feet fell asleep. Woke me up instead.”

The corners of Henry’s mouth twitched. If Boris didn’t know any better, he could almost mistake the man’s grimace as a smile. It almost met his eyes.

“Headin’ off somewhere?” said Boris, nodding towards the note.

“Just about,” whispered Henry.

He motioned for Boris to follow him out of the room, finger to his lips. Boris nodded, trying to be mindful of jostling the bed, so as not to rouse Alice or Bendy. The wolf was thankful for his thick coat of fur (ink?) once he was free from the blankets, as the room was fairly brisk without the protection. Boris swallowed a whine and followed after the grizzled animator.

On their way to the den, Henry grabbed a large, dark green jacket from one of the hampers in the hallway. He gave it a tentative sniff to check if it was clean, shrugged, and offered it to Boris. Boris sniffed as well. It smelled of Henry and mothballs. It would do. The sleeves came up an inch short of his wrists though.

“Gotta go plead to the powers that be that I don’t end up unemployed before the day’s end,” said Henry once they were a safe whisper-free distance from the bedroom, sighing and scratching his neck. “I, uh, took a few more vacation days than I’d originally planned.”

Boris’s stomach dropped, guiltily. The studio.

“Oh, golly… wha… that was our fault—”

“S’nobody’s fault,” said Henry, patting Boris’s shoulder. They passed the couch. It didn’t show any signs of Henry sleeping on it. “I might have to work a few extra shifts to make up for it though. My boss, Callum? Not exactly known for being forgiving, but he can be fair when he needs to be.”

Boris nodded, faint memories of his own past experiences with “unforgiving bosses” arising. His tail tucked between his legs, the wound from the harsh look on Joey’s face all those days ago in that office now fresh in his mind’s eye. When the air was thick with acetone and Henry’s open cartoon wounds. His nose twitched, feeling a little sick at the memory.

“M-Maybe I should come with ya,” said Boris, the weightlessness of Henry leaning on him ghosting along his shoulder. He gripped it. “Help explain a few things—”

“Boris,” said Henry. There was no harshness in his voice, but it was still firm. “I… I appreciate it, Pup. I really do. But… you need to stay here. All three of you. Lay low for a while.”

Boris tried his best not to look discouraged. Henry patted his shoulder again and gave it a squeeze. It felt odd, not having to look down on Henry as much as he had when the animator was still a Toon. Henry squared his shoulders, and Boris felt assured.

“It’s… too much, out there,” Henry nodded to the window. A car honked, followed by another, and across the way, some neighbors were opening windows to do laundry. A lady waved out a large red blanket, and Boris had to flinch at the brightness of the color, visible even in the dim early morning. “Too much to get used to all at once.  Besides, I know Callum. I’ll be alright.”

Boris felt like crawling into an inkwell. He knew Henry was right, but it wrung his nerves like wet laundry. He felt so… useless. He was supposed to be the helper, the best buddy. He sighed.

A kettle whistled.

“Oh, shoot—” Henry rushed to the stove and turned the knob, using one of the dangling jumpsuit sleeves to take the metal pot from the heat when he couldn’t find his oven mitt, setting it on his oven mitt so the counter wouldn’t burn— ahh. Found the mitt. Hmm. “Sheesh… I, err, tried making something quick for breakfast for you all before I left, but, well. The mess. Heh. Wasn’t able to get as much done as I was hoping…”

Boris turned to the counter while Henry prepared a quick coffee for himself, and noticed, to his surprise, that the tower of bills and mail had been cleared off, leaving room for three sets of plates, bowls, forks and spoons of varying style and size. Each plate had a couple eggs, sunny-side up, glasses of water, and steaming hot bowls of oatmeal—with walnuts and molasses, from the looks of them. Bois sniffed the air above the biggest bowl (he hoped it was his) and licked his chops. It smelled pretty dang good.

Breakfast wasn’t the only change to the den. The mess from last night seemed to have all been pushed to the side, the floor for the most part cleared of debris, if still in need of a vacuuming. Trash bags sat stacked next to the door, ready for dumping, full of the empty bottles and boxes.

…How long had Henry been up, working on all of this?

“Ya didn’t have to…” said Boris, ears flopping back. “Dunno if we really need to eat.”

“A good breakfast might liven up the mood around here,” said Henry, smirking. At least this time it reached his eyes. He quickly downed the contents of the mug, grimacing. “Aghh, love the feeling of burnt tongue in the morning.”

“Ya do?” Boris laughed.

“Nope,” Henry laughed in turn. He set his mug in the sink, which was filled with other much dirtier mugs as well as pots and pans, and put a small tin reading Express-o, Coffee on the Go away. A cast iron skillet was all that was left on the stove, which looked surprisingly well cared for, considering the state of Henry’s other kitchen items. Guess that explained the eggs. He pointed to Boris. “Tea boxes are on the counter too, should be enough hot water between all of you. Don’t let Bendy drink my coffee. I’ll call you all when I’m on my way back. Don’t answer the phone for anyone else.”

“Wha?? Buh—how-how?” said Boris, getting whiplash.

Henry pointed to the other end of the den. A black, faintly dusty dial-up phone sat on the floor, next to the far wall, with a note taped to the wall over it. It read a variety of instructions in Henry’s chicken scrawl shorthand, and a blessedly legible phone number at the bottom. It looked as if it’d been dug up from one of Henry’s old boxes.

“I’ll call three times in a row. Only answer if you get three calls within a few seconds of each other,” said Henry, grabbing a toolbox next to the couch and as many of the trash bags as he could carry. “Other than that, just let it ring.”

“Whuh- wait, Henry!” said Boris, heart leaping in his throat. “I-I’m not so sure we…”

Boris turned to the window, grabbing the sleeve of the jacket. The sun was raising more and more, the world outside of them starting to wake up. Yellows mixed with grays, turning them brown and sandy. He was sorely missing his dreams, drenched in black and white.

“Hey, hey,” said Henry. His hand was back on Boris’s shoulder.

Boris turned to him, every inch of his face dropping, expecting to get one of Henry’s signature rigid, authoritative glares, waiting to be given the hard facts of their situation. Instead, he got a tired, yet… understanding smile. It was lopsided and rough around the edges, and looked wildly unsure.

“It’s ok,” said Henry, in a voice that, despite what his face betrayed, sounded pretty dang convincing.

The wolf felt something inside him—something that he’d kept bunched together throughout the drive, the climb to Henry’s apartment, the scary few minutes this morning where he first experienced his feet falling asleep in the real world and how real the real world felt and how he wasn’t really a wolf he wasn’t real was he?— unclench and, without thinking, he leaned his head on Henry’s shoulder, sagging weightily. Henry teetered, not used to the wolf having a third dimension’s worth of weight to him, but evened out, and wrapped an arm around Boris’s back, toolbox counterbalancing him.

“This is a lot to take in,” said Henry, gruff voice a welcome sound for the poor, overwhelmed wolf. “Don’t rush yourselves through it. Thing’s’ll get easier. I just…” His grip tightened, strong, grounding. “We just gotta make some things work first.”

The wolf whined.

“I just wanna help,” said Boris, voice feeling thicker than glue. “I ain’t much of a good helper though. I couldn’t even help you or Bendy or Alice when everything came crumblin’…”

“Now now, none of that,” Henry almost laughed.

Boris almost had enough nerve to get annoyed, if not for what Henry said next.

“That’s no way to talk about the guy who saved my life. And Bendy’s and Alice’s. And then mine again.” Henry stopped, smirking when he felt Boris quietly snort. “And Bendy’s, again, about, what? Five more times?”

“Mmmh, you’re just saying that…” Boris didn’t sound completely convinced, but the knot loosened a fraction. He pushed from Henry, trying to stand his full height. His cheeks had their old stylized blush back; his ears almost perking sincerely. Almost. He let them droop, eyes downcast. Henry sighed.

“For now… none of us know what we’re doing,” said Henry. “Not even me. And I’m from here. But we’ll figure it out.”

“…one breakfast at a time?” said Boris, trying to smile. It was shaky. Oh, he felt so shaky.

“One breakfast at a time,” said Henry. He reached up and scratched Boris between the ears, and Boris relaxed. He felt his tail wag, if only just a bit.

“But seriously,” Henry added. He was grinning, almost… devilishly. “Keep. Bendy. Away from my coffee. If I come back and find him bouncing off the walls, I’m hiring an exorcist.”

Boris was so taken aback, he couldn’t help himself. The thought alone was so ridiculous, but seeing Henry actually try to crack a joke? Utterly too much to comprehend. The wolf howled a laugh right out loud.

And it felt scarily, wonderfully real. 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IT’S A HAPPY HOPEFUL ENDING TO THIS FIC.  THIS IS MY WEAKNESS.

THIS IS ALL MY WEAKNESS.  I LOVE THIS SO MUCH.

Option C- When in Doubt

I’m not really sure who to blame for this, @harriestyles514, anons, still @the-well-rested-one, my rich fantasy life…. Anyway, always good to keep your options open.


In the month that has passed since I last saw (sucked off) Harry Styles, I haven’t thought about him. Nope, not at all, not in the shower, not in my bed late at night or early in the morning, and definitely not in bathroom stalls at the label I work at. Never have I ever had to bite my lip to keep quiet while someone has walked into said bathroom while I had my hand down my so trendy I could barf mom jeans.

It’s been a long thirty days.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi! Do you know any fics like LeeBlack's "When a Born Wolf Howls" series where Stiles has contacts with the not-so-legal side of BH or where he knows how to pick locks, hot wire a car or stuff like that? Not a criminal or mafia AU, more like canon Stiles with a little extra. Thanks :)

So, I went with morally ambigous!Stiles. - Anastasia

Originally posted by unable2find

A Sliver of Sunlight by LeeBlack

(17/17 I 37,331 I Mature I Steter)

The last thing that Stiles expected to see after coming into his room was Peter Hale, back from the dead and apparently sane. Well, relatively sane, all things considered.

And with everything that had happened in Beacon Hills recently, was it really so impossible to believe that, without the Alpha power trip, Peter was the sort of person who couldn’t be trusted but was too interesting to be ignored?

***


Law and Disorderly Conduct by Delightful_I_Am

(1/1 I 2,514 I Teen I Sterek)

“Are you sure this is legal?”

Stiles looked up at Scott in disbelief, a diamond pick between his teeth and his torsion wrench still wedged tight in the lock in front of him. He flicked his eyes back and forth from Scott to the lock a few times before raising an eyebrow at his friend.

“Scotty, bud, pal, my dude. I am literally in the middle of breaking into a lawyer’s office as we speak. In what universe is that not illegal?”

Science, Bitches! by eeyore9990

(1/1 I 2,688 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles is aware that it’s wrong. He’s a rational, intellectual person who really does understand that some things are right and some are… not. He just can’t really be bothered to care.

OR

How to get a werewolf boyfriend in three easy steps.

Take a bite out of life by Nival_Vixen

(1/1 I 3,274 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles gets infected by vampire blood. According to a really old Russian text, he could become a blood-sucking monster like Bram Stoker’s Dracula, an incubus-like blood-sucker who needs blood and sex to survive, or he could literally drain people’s souls.

The hour of truth is approaching, as is the full moon. As such, Derek’s the only one available to be stuck on Stiles-sitting duty, and is the only one there when Stiles finds out exactly what new piece he’s becoming on the chessboard.

For Us by day

(1/1 I 7,328 I Explicit I Sterek)

“Parole.” Stiles nods, standing up and stretching once again, revealing a naked and tattooed strip of skin above his belt. “I lied and I haven’t been traveling. I’ve actually been in lock up for five years on charges of attempted manslaughter, harboring a fugitive, and a few other broken laws.”

Scott laughs loudly before he catches onto the tense atmosphere in the room. “You can’t be serious.”

“Well, shit, Scott. I can’t undo the past, so I guess I am.” Stiles shrugs. “Listen to my heartbeat, young werewolves, you will find that I do not misguide you. Officer Hale here took it upon himself to become my new parole officer. How sweet is he?”

Stiles falls off the grid for 8 years. When Derek finally meets him again, it’s as a detective and main suspect in a murder investigation.

The War is Won (Surrender, Love) by Ceris_Malfoy

(1/1 I 8,122 I Teen I Stiles/Deucalion I Girl!Stiles)

It is in the dark of the night, when her brain won’t shut off and she is pacing, relentless with the need to do something, that she realizes that saying no was probably a very, very good thing. She is dangerous enough without adding ‘werewolf’ into that category.

It doesn’t stop her from thinking about it though, nor from dreaming.

This Could Be So Dirty That it Just Ain’t Right by taylorpotato

(1/1 I 10,380 I Explicit I Steter)

Ever since Stiles presented as an Omega, he hasn’t been feeling the same urges as his peers. When he’s around an Alpha that’s not Scott (who is pretty much his brother at this point), his first reaction is to shrink away, not try to press closer. Until he meets Peter Hale. Who acts like the most annoying, entitled kind of Alpha on the planet. Except he’s not one. He’s an Omega. Of course, Stiles would turn out to be every type of gay possible.

The Dragon’s Wolf by DenaCeleste

(1/1 I 14,767 I Explicit I Steter)

Stiles is a vengeful dragon, and Peter is his mate. Stiles just has to convince Peter of that while they deal with the attempted murder of the Hale pack.

“Where–what the hell are you?!” His mate didn’t back away, instead he held his ground with claws bared, and his eyes flared a bright yellow. “Where is my pack?”

Stiles snuffed at him and tucked his tail around his hindclaws. Wolf. Well, that explained the odd smelling humans. He leaned forward, just a bit, and flicked his tongue out at the man, who lashed out with his sharp-tipped fingers. Pleased with his headstrong mate, he trilled again before shifting to his bipedal form with a suddenness that made the other man jerk back into a defensive stance.

“I’m a dragon, just in case the wings and scales didn’t give it away. I’d breathe fire too, but I think that would be just a bit insensitive, all things considered.” Stiles quirked a brow. “What is your name, wolf?”

“Peter Hale. Where is my family?” He darted at Stiles and grasped his throat.

it feels better biting down by Aminias (SeeingRed)

(6/15 I 17,026 I Mature I Steter)

Sometimes we forget that not every villain is a coupon waiting to be redeemed. Good thing Peter has always been a smart shopper.

Hey There, Stranger by annie_reckson

(6/7 I 23,062 I Explicit I Sciles)

Scott’s been going to a specific spot on the beach for a few years now and now that he’s on summer break from college, he’s looking forward to spending most of his summer months there.

He’s not sure whether he should be excited or terrified when he gets much more than he could have ever expected.

ce qu'elle a dit by dogearedpage

(14/? I 44,281 I Explicit I Steter I Girl!Stiles)

“The last thing Stiles thought she wanted to hear was Derek Hale telling her she smelled ‘weird’. Except, a few moments later, he outclassed himself and turned Stiles’ entire world on its head by telling her something even worse.

“She didn’t smell ‘weird’. She smelled pregnant.”

Sometimes Peter looks at Stiles like he yearns to sink his fangs into her all over again. She thinks he’ll devour her if she isn’t careful.

Stiles is rarely careful.

Service Dog Things that are ShitToTrain™

There are a lot of things that are obviously difficult to train, like learning to ignore distractions like other dogs, screaming kids, and food, but there are a few things that are surprisingly ShitToTrain™ your service dog. 

Putting a Read More because this got long. 

Keep reading

;; Kitten Kuddles ;;

Pairing: PaperHat

Prompt: Could you do a prompt where one of Flug’s experiments accidentally turns him into a kitten or baby bear? And Black Hat starts to step towards him, and Flug is afraid thinking that Black Hat’s going to hurt him since he thinks Black Hat is mad, but Black Hat ends up thinking he’s adorable and hugging and coddling him haha  - anonymous

“Doctor? What was that irritable loud explosion?!”

Demencia came crawling in behind him, on the ceiling, as 5.0.5. entered with a med kit in case the scientist was hurt. All three were shocked as a meow could be heard.

A small bump, beneath the enormous white lab coat, nestled around, making little whimpering noises. BH stepped forward and lifted the snow colored coat from the noise maker.

The kitten with blonde fur and white streaks along its body with the brightest blue eyes BH had ever seen began to whimper even more.

“Did he turn himself into a cat?! He’s so cute!! Look at the little nerd!” Dementia’s voice was utterly annoying but she quieted down when the kitten whimpered again.

BH picked up the kitten and order them both to leave. He ordered 5.0.5. to clean it after he had inspected the room a bit more.

Once he left to his office, blonde kitten nerd in his hands, he entered his office and set the little doctor onto his desk. The kitten was curled up, his tail tucked between its legs in fear.

“Doctor, what did you do to yourself?”

The kitten unfolded its ears and perked up at the softness in his boss’ voice. He mewed quietly and watched the demon’s visible eye soften a bit.

He flinched when the boss’ gloved hands came in contact with his fur again. However, he wasn’t injured. “You’re really furry…” The demon mumbled, taking off his gloves and picking up Flug.

“This isn’t so bad after all…”

Flug widened his eyes when the other held him up above his head. He brought his arms down slowly, Flug’s furry stomach coming in contact with his face.

Seconds passed by before a small mph could be heard. Flug cocked his head to the side as he was pulled away from his boss’ face. He watched the blush darken on the demon’s face and smiled.

He purred and nuzzled his head against his boss’ thumb. A soft sigh of content left the demon’s lips as he brought the kitten against his cheek once again.

“You should do this more often, Doctor… You’re very soft.”