tail tucked

Dallas finding a small dog Imagine

(Ok, I said I was going to do this so…here we go!) 

-Dallas was just casually walking to Buck’s one night when he found a small white puppy.

-He merely glanced at it and then kept walking at first

-The dog had noticed him and began to follow him, to his horror.

-He actually kicked it away

-It yelped in shock and pain, but still came running back.

-“Go away you stupid-ass dog!” he yelled at it.

-Dog tucks its tail between its legs and whimpers.

-He got sad when he noticed it was like Johnny.

-Literally, him kneeling down and apologizing to dog.  

-“I-am sorry.” he gave it a few pats and the shoved it away.

-He walked like 10 blocks before noticing it was still freaking following him.

-He decided he’d just keep it in his pocket of his jacket.

-It fell asleep in his warm coat (so precious!!!)

-He ended up just going to his room alone at Buck’s

-He forgot the dog was in there until he through his coat on the floor and it yipped getting lost in the leather.

-He kind of laughed and fished it out of the sea of leather.

-It just kind of stared at him sitting in his hand.

-Dog pees on him after a few moments.

-He drops dog in disgust and swear a lot

-He ended up apologizing to the dog again.

-Dog licks him and he grimaces full on, because it was actually comforting.

-He falls asleep on his bed with small dog and dog cuddles in his hair. (like i can see it and im dying)

-Next day, Dallas plays with dog.

-He names it Thunder.

-He just thought it fit the lil’ guy.

-Thunder is actually girl.

-Dallas checked *face palm*

-He takes THunder to Curtis’ in his pocket but tells no one.

-They’re all sitting at the table when Pony starts to notice Dal shoving food in his pocket.

-“Dal, what are you doing?”

-“What do ya mean, kid?”

-Thunder pops head from his pocket

-Johnny literally jumped when it happend.

-Thunder falls out of his pocket onto table and sits.

-Darry stared surprised.

-“I found him on the street and he wouldn’t leave me alone” was Dally’s excuse, which was true, but he still got crap for it.

-Johnny really like Thunder and Thunder likes him back.

I can gladly do more on this topic. 

breaking dog blog news

just experienced the ultimate pushme-pullyou – the echoing sound of bagpipes, and the sight of a squirrel bounding into a nearby tree

a.k.a. Chalo’s greatest fear, and Priya’s greatest desire, in opposite directions

YOOOOOOOO Freewood monster under the bed au anyone?

Gavin is a monster or a poltergeist that feeds off of the fear people experience when they have bad dreams and has a weird habit of camping out under his victims beds before he starts terrorizing them.

This all leads to the house he lives in being labeled as severely haunted by  the locals since anyone who tries to move into it ends up fleeing with their tails tucked between their legs.

But, then along comes Ryan.

He has absolutely no patience for Gavin’s supernatural bullshit, and refuses to be scared or even to react to Gavin’s presence just out of pure spite and it drives Gavin up a fucking wall.

He tries everything to get even the tiniest reaction out of Ryan.

Gavin tries on the very first night Ryan is in the house to start terrorizing him through his usual shtick of making wierd noises and banging around under the bed, and Ryan literally chases him out of the bedroom with a broom handle like Gavin is nothing more than an errant spider.

He tries making all the water faucets in the house spew foul smelling grungy liquids instead of water and Ryan merely gives a put-upon sigh of annoyance and starts buying gallons of spring water until Gavin gets tired of it and the faucets go back to giving clean water.

He makes doors slam closed or bang off the walls all night and the next day, Ryan simply goes to buy wall digs and door jambs.

Gavin throws glassware and crockery out of the kitchen  cabinets. Ryan child proofs the entire kitchen so none of the cabinets or appliances will open without a special key.

He  pulls all of Ryan’s clothes out of the dressers, shreds them to pieces, and strings them all over the house and Ryan doesn’t even bat an eyelash before threatening Gavin with an exorcism of the mess doesn’t get cleaned up.

This goes on for months. Everything Gavin tries to throw at Ryan only seems to cause him to become even more desensitized  to Gavin’s presence in his house.

In fact he’s so not scared of Gavin he’s started leaving the monster food on the table and leaving the bedroom door open for him at night because he knows Gavin really likes sleeping in the tight space under his bed or on the top shelf in Ryan’s closet.

Gavin is super bitter about it and now just does things to piss Ryan off instead of trying to scare him.

You Think I’m Scared of A Woman?

Originally posted by bonniebird

John Shelby x Reader

Prompt Request: You think I’m scared of a woman?

*Peaky Blinders Requests are Open*

“Uh oh, John Boy, you’re in the doghouse with your tail tucked between your legs. There’s practically a storm cloud floating over Y/N’s head, waiting to strike you down. What’d you do this time?” Finn snickered at Arthur.

“What?” John asked indignantly, glaring at the eldest Shelby brother. “You lads think I’m scared of a woman?” He scoffed, puffing his chest out. Y/N ripped the small window open from the bar to the private room and glared monstrously at John. Tommy raised his eyebrows while Arthur snickered. Finn held his mild with wide eyes.

“I ain’t scared of no woman,” John mumbled, looking down at the table.

“Well, you can ‘not be scared of no woman’ on the sofa tonight! How does that sound?” With that, Y/N pulled the window shut. The raucous laughter echoed out of the room by the brothers. Y/N continued working with a smug grin on her face. That’ll teach him.

Before somebody sends the “he wasn’t forced in, they dipped his toes in to show him it was fine, and jumped in willingly later on”. Here the trainer is dunking the dog in by the collar. The dog is trying to get away by scrabbling at the side and pulling away. His tail is tucked between his legs. Too many people are applying human logic to the situation - it’s a movie set, there are paramedics present, the dog wasn’t in any real danger, so from our perspective the fear is irrational.

But the dog doesn’t understand any of this! All he knows is that there are very large motors that are very scary, and he communicates to the trainer “I am not comfortable with this and I don’t want to do it”, through his avoidance, attempts of escape, and panic. The trainer, instead of respecting the dog’s discomfort, does this. Science has shown us that putting intense, deliberate stress on animals is bad. We later see the dog frantically swimming before going under (a press release confirmed it is the same dog), suggesting they did end up “throwing him in” as they discussed in the video. We don’t know for sure. But we do know that a dog was flooded with a frightening trigger, for the sake of shooting a movie scene. That’s truly fucked.

There are a lot of things telling you that you can’t. There are a lot of people whispering that you won’t be able to do it. There are circumstances in your way, blocking the path you know you are called to tread. There are so many reasons for you to tuck your tail between your legs and run back in the direction from which you came. 

But there is one voice that is louder than the rest - you can. It is not booming, it is not thunderous… but it is gentle, like waves crashing on the shore.
But, despite its softness, it demands to be heard.
Listened to. Acknowledged.
It demands your obedience. Your cooperation. Your heart. Your willingness.
It demands you. All of of you. 

Because it belongs to the very One who created that path you feel so called to take.

When the only thing in your ears hear is the cacophony of negativity the world hurls at you, listen for the still small voice that whispers “I am with you. I will never leave your side, my dear.
He is with you. He will never leave you. He will never forsake you. 
He’s never left before. He’s been right by your side (even when you tried to run from Him).

Go forth on the path you feet yearn to follow. 
Even when you’re trudging along, even when the briers are thick and the air is heavy with the disappointment of those who simply don’t understand, keep walking. 

Your destination awaits. 

-31Women (Ansley)

[ prompt from @swcrazy - hope you enjoy! ]

He begins cautiously.

A small ceramic dog with a chipped tail, tucked in the corner window of a second hand shop.

“That looks like Winston,” he says.

Hannibal is beside him, warm hand in the small of his back.

“Would you like it?”

Will doesn’t hesitate. He leans into the touch, pressing their shoulders together.


Hannibal buys him the dog, makes sure the shopkeeper wraps it carefully in tissue, treating it as though it were a priceless heirloom.

Perhaps one day, sold at auction for enthusiasts of the macabre, it will be.

Or perhaps it will sit on their mantelpiece and collect dust until they pass peacefully on.

Will knows which is more likely, but he sets Winston Junior on the mantelpiece anyway, turned to face them as they sit together by the fire.


They pass a bookstore on their walk the next day. It specializes in rare and antique editions.

“I need new books,” Will says, “to occupy the time.”

Hannibal nods, opens the door for him. “Of course.”

Will heads straight for the glass case, selects an 1897 first edition of Dracula.

“This,” he points out. Hannibal ushers the meek sales clerk to unlock the case. He lifts the book out with trembling hands, holding it like a newborn.

Hannibal tilts his head, examines the other editions neatly preserved behind the glass.

“Surely you’ll need more than one.”

Will’s lips curve into a slow smile.

“Yes. I will.”

The clerk looks up at them from under bottle-thick glasses, the wisps of his hair quavering.

“We’ll take three more,” Hannibal says.

Will raises an eyebrow. “Four.”

“Why not five?”

Hannibal’s eyes are burning. Will thinks he might topple over from the force of it, but instead he digs in his heels and pulls the reins tight.


A spark of flame licks between them and Hannibal smiles without his mouth, his pleasure on full display for Will’s eyes only.

“Seven,” Hannibal doesn’t even look at the clerk. “We’ll take seven.”

Will swallows as the air around them vibrates, the scent of leather and parchment scratched out by the palpable heat Hannibal radiates towards him.

Between their silent exchange, the clerk stands. “Er, which ones, sir?”

Hannibal smirks. “It doesn’t matter,” he says with disinterest, “he won’t read them anyway.”

“No,” Will agrees, “I won’t.”

The shop’s practices are old-fashioned and so their books are wrapped in thick layers of butcher paper, tied with string.

When they leave, Will loops his hand through the crooks of Hannibal’s arm as they traverse the cobblestones.

“Dracula I’ll read,” he says. Hannibal brushes the back of his hand over Will’s fingers.

“Perhaps aloud?”

The thought scoops a thrill in the pit of his stomach. He reads aloud to Hannibal that night in bed, and when his voice grows gravelly and rough Hannibal plucks the book from his hand and kisses him on the mouth.

It is gentle and soft. Will pets at Hannibal’s hair and hums approval from his throat.

Hannibal falls asleep with his head pillowed on Will’s chest and wakes up the same.


When Will sees a watch he likes in the pages of the magazine he’s leafing through he flags the page. When he finishes the article he’s reading he stands and deposits the magazine open in front of Hannibal.

He runs his fingers across the picture of the watch as he walks past. He does not ask.

The next day there is a black velvet box on the dining room table.

When he fastens the strap over his wrist, Will realizes he’s half-hard.

Hannibal watches him from behind hooded eyes as he twists his wrist to see the light glint off his new present.

“Do you like it?”

Will just looks at him, eyes dark and voice thick. “You know I do.”

That evening, they make love for the first time, naked and bathed in the glow of firelight.

Will keeps the watch on.


“I think you’d give me anything I ask for,” Will says as he buttons the jacket of his new exquisitely tailored suit. Hannibal watches over his shoulder in the mirror.

“Have I led you to believe anything else?” he asks. He slips his arm around Will’s waist. Will traces over each bone in his hand.

“No,” he replies, “but I’m surprised how much I like it.”

Hannibal shifts behind him, presses closer. “And how much do you like it?”

Will tilts his head back to accept the kiss offered up to him.

“A lot.”


They celebrate a year together in a lavish suite overlooking the Seine. They take champagne on their balcony and Hannibal feeds him fresh strawberries. He had instructed the hotel staff to acquire only fresh ones from Provence, chilled and set aside with a bowl of cream.

All of this at Will’s request.

Hannibal dips a berry into the cream and brings it to Will’s mouth, touching it teasingly to his lips. Will licks out his tongue, tasting the milky sugar, and bites. He kisses the sweetness back to Hannibal, feeding him his own desire as he does.

Hannibal wraps arms around him, a little difficult to do in the plump and sumptuous robes they have wrapped around them, but they manage.

Will sighs against the softness of Hannibal’s shoulder.

“It’s not the money,” he says.

Hannibal’s mouth pauses around the kiss he forms over Will’s brow.

“I know,” he replies, “it’s knowing the power you wield over me.”

He finishes his kiss and starts a warm trail of them, stringing hot and wet down his jaw to below his collarbone as he pulls Will’s robe to the side.

Will clutches at his hair and moans softly. He closes his eyes and they are back on the cliff, bruised and holy, seafoam and blood spiraling around them.

“I would buy the world,” Hannibal whispers into his skin, “and watch you burn it at my feet.”

Will wraps his arms tight and smiles around the dark.

“Bring me the matches.”

Mermaids and Stupid Decisions

Imagine: stiles finds a mermaid in the school pool, and they end up falling in love with each other.

Stiles x reader


There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in the school after school hours, that’s why they called it after school.

So why the HELL were there people in here?

You could hear them, walking in the direction of the pool.

“Fucking hell,” you curse under your breath, looking around frantically.

There was no way you would be able to dry off and change in time. Being a mermaid royally sucks sometimes.

That left one more option. You swim to the edge of the pool and tuck your tail carefully against the side so it wouldn’t be visible unless looking from the far side of the pool.

A few seconds after the teens burst through the door, you speak.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing in here?”

They freeze, and all of them stop talking to one another.

“My coach is gonna be back any minute, you’ve got to go!”

They seem to believe me and all run back for the doors.


Sitting on the edge of the pool, waiting for your tail to dry so it’ll change back into two legs, you notice a phone.

A phone that is very much not yours.

A phone that was not there when you got here.

A phone that someone has come back for, and is now standing half way in the doorway, staring at your tail.

Honestly, this day could not get any better.

(Part 1)

The Woman in Black

A well-documented haunting occurred from 1882–92 in a large house in Cheltenham, England. In 1882, the family of Captain Frederick William Despard moved into the house. Shortly after, Rosina Despard heard a noise outside her door one night and opened it expecting to find her mother. Instead, there was a ghostly woman dressed in black holding a handkerchief up to her face.

This first encounter inspired Miss Despard to investigate; she attempted to talk to the ghostly figure a few times, but the woman in black apparently couldn’t answer back. When Despard tried to touch the woman, she was never able to feel anything. In fact, the woman in black was seen to walk through thin strings placed across the stairs without breaking them. Twice, the small dog of the house was seen to rush to the stairs excitedly, as if expecting to be petted, only to suddenly tuck its tail between its legs and hide under the sofa. Though not everyone in the house saw the woman in black, they all heard footsteps in parts of the house that no one was in.

In 1885, loud noises sometimes occurred for no reason and door handles started to move on their own, which frightened away many servants, but by 1892, even the footsteps had stopped, and the haunting was apparently over. Investigated by the Society for Psychical Research, Miss Despard’s notes on the matter were published in the society’s journal under the false family name of “Morton,” to prevent curiosity seekers from bothering the family more than the ghost had.

Cas didn’t go after the witch. She was probably long gone anyway, and he was much more interested in the puppy that was currently nudging its nose against Cas’ leg and whining.

“Dean?” Cas asked disbelievingly.

The puppy barked twice, then went back to nudging, more vigorously this time.

Instinctively, Cas knelt down and rubbed the puppy’s blonde fur in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. “It’s okay, Dean. We’ll get you back to the motel, and we’ll figure this spell out.”

Cas stood up, expecting the Dean puppy to follow him, but he only barked instead, scrabbling around to get in front of Cas before pawing at his shoe. Cas noticed then that the puppy was shaking, floppy ears trembling with the force of it, tail tucked between his legs.

Dean was scared. And probably really confused. Cas felt that sudden urge he always felt to take care of Dean, and opened his arms without thinking. Dean jumped into them immediately, pressing his cold, wet snout into Cas’ neck and whimpering.

“Shhh,” Cas said scratching the thick fur on Dean’s neck and hugging the puppy to his chest. “I’ll take care of you.”

The puppy snuggled even closer, but stopped crying.

Back at the motel, Dean refused to leave Cas’ side, even once Sam had done his thorough research and declared that it would wear off in a day or two. Cas knew what it felt like to be in a new and unfamiliar vessel, and he didn’t mind keeping Dean close.

Cas didn’t mind the way Dean would curl up on his feet. He didn’t mind the way Dean would bump his head against Cas’ hand to get another bite of cheeseburger. He rather enjoyed the way he refused to sleep unless Cas was in the bed too, and the way that Sam rolled his eyes at that.

And Cas didn’t mind when Dean woke up the next morning, stretched awkwardly in his new puppy body, then sat down and looked at Cas like he was thinking hard about something.

 Slowly, the puppy climbed up onto Cas’ chest and put his face only an inch away. Cas didn’t dare move as Dean contemplated, head cocked to the side adorably, then leaned forward and licked Cas on the mouth tentatively.

Cas smiled, but didn’t move, so the puppy began furiously licking all over Cas’ face, tail wagging as Cas laughed.

And then it was Dean. Heavy, human, luckily still fully-clothed somehow Dean. Licking Cas’ face.

Somehow, neither one of them seemed bothered.

Dean grinned, not moving his head away from Cas’. “So that spell was awful.”

Cas grinned back. “Truly terrible.”

Sam’s muffled voice floated from his bed, half-asleep and irritated. “If you two are gonna keep making out, can you at least go somewhere else?”

Dean’s face reddened, but he didn’t look away from Cas. “Sure, Sam. We’ll do that.”

I think Peter went to James and Lily’s funeral. I think he hid with his tail tucked under him nursing his paw where he cut off his finger. Maybe he hid in the grass near the little church in Godric’s Hollow as the crowd grew larger to pay their respects to Harry Potter’s parents. And just maybe he got up the nerve to get a little closer. Maybe he saw Remus and bolted because he knew Remus would definitely recognize him in his Animagus form. And then a little five year old Percy Weasley got hold of him as he was scurrying between his legs. And Mrs. Weasley, who had lost too many friends and family to the war, was too overwhelmed with emotion to tell him to leave the rat behind.

chimeracuddles  asked:

Theo getting an injection, he screams, kicks, throws his arms up, yelps, growls, tried to flee. Scott holds him down, and Theo flips and tried to bite Scott. Melissa grabs his arm and pushes down. Deuc holds Theo's legs and by this time Theo is slowly admitting defeat, but still keeping up a fight. Deaton quickly injects the top part of Theo's arm while Theo wails as if they are killing him. Once finished they let go, Theo changes into a wolf and runs with his tail tucked into his legs

He crawls into the hole in the earth he had found in the woods, one of the few places he feels safe at. The darkness, the smell of earth and leaves. Darkness, his only friend for so many years. No one can see his tears here and the shaking of his body could be mistaken as freezing.

Zootopia:☮ Friendship Headcanons

As requested by anonymous: Nick and Judy

headcanons in tiny drabbles!

Hope this holds up! 

1. Seeing Double

Judy and Nick are always together. And if Judy is mentioned then so is Nick. And everyone (everyone) knows that one does not mess with one unless they want to mess with the other.

“What did you do?” Del Gato asks an intern, who walks into the coffee room looking shaken up and a little well worn, his pride hanging somewhere at the end of the tail currently tucked between his legs.

“Um… I- uh… said something about the Fox.”

“Ah,” says Del Gato.

No more questions are asked.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you have any tips for a 4 month old BC puppy who reacts to ceiling fans? She generally mostly barks at them, whimpers at me, jumps on the bed to get closer to them (a habit I'm trying to stop because of her developing joints), and watches the ceiling when entering the room even if it's turned off. I'm not sure if it's fearful? Cause she neither hides nor tucks her tail, but I don't want this to become a reactive problem for her when she gets older (especially since it gets hot in the summer)

I would play LAT with the ceiling fan as the distraction and place rewards on the floor. Start with the ceiling fan stationary, mark (with a clicker or by saying “Yes!”) when your dog looks up at it, and then toss a treat on the ground. Repeat until your dog no longer wants to look at the ceiling fan and spends her time sniffing at the ground. Then move the ceiling fan very slowly (you could probably attach a string to one of the blades to move it manually). When your dog looks up at the fan, mark and reward. Continue marking and rewarding every time your dog looks up a the spinning fan. When she again reaches a point where she doesn’t seem interested in the fan, move the fan a bit faster and mark and reward for looking. Continue this process until your dog is comfortable around the fan moving at full speed.

Once your dog is comfortable with the fast moving fan, you’ll still need to practice her walking into a room where the fan is already moving. The sudden appearance of the moving fan will probably be startling to her initially. Just walk with her into the doorway and mark and reward her glancing up at the fan. If you’ve built a strong foundation with her being comfortable with the fan when she’s in the room, she should adjust quickly to the sudden appearance.

kdnkakafs, ahhh idk what to say, I just really love cat!Chika and dog!You ahhhhh, I totally blame @red-string-of-gal-pals for indulging me with this




“Chika-chan where are you? I think I finally have a new lead on the case!” Yō called out as she wandered around the house.  Her tail was swishing back and forth excitedly behind her and her ears were perked up in excitement as she continued to search for her partner.

“C’mon Chika-chan we gotta get going before-” the rest of Yō’s words disappeared on her tongue as she entered the living room. There resting in the little alcove in the bay window with the sun shining down on her was Chika.  She was curled up with her arms cushioning her head and her tail tucked protectively against her body.

All thoughts of the investigation fell from Yō’s mind as she slowly approached the sleeping girl totally entranced.

“I should have known that she snuck off to go nap…”

When she reaches the window seat Yō sits in the small space that was left by Chika’s head.  Biting her lip she considers whether she should wake the other girl up or not.  On one hand they did have work to do, but on the other hand…

Yō reaches a hand out and brushes a few errant strands of hair back and away from Chika’s face.  The seeping girls’ ear twitched as she murmured in her sleep and nuzzled closer to the touch.

“Cute…” Yō sighed. Her tail began to sway dreamily back and forth.

Too caught up in the other girls adorableness’ Yō began to gently pet Chika’s head with a look of fondness in her eye.  It just wasn’t fair, how could Yō ever scold Chika for her numerous and spontaneous afternoon naps if she looked so cute while she slept.

Lost in her thoughts of Chika’s never ending cuteness Yō didn’t even notice when said girls’ eyes fluttered open.

“Mmm, Yō-chan your tail’s tickling me.” Chika giggled, voice still laced with sleep.

Ears perking back up Yō felt a little embarrassed for being caught petting Chika while she napped… again.

“Ahh, s-sorry Chika-chan.” Yō put her hands up in surrender and forced her tail to stay still.

“S’okay” Chika yawned, she crawled foreword a bit before settling back down with her head now in Yō’s lap. “You don’t have to stop petting me though.  I like that.”

Slowly, and a little unsure, Yō brought her hand back down and resumed her gentle caresses against Chika’s hair and ears.  Chika let out a sound that sounded like a purr of satisfaction before promptly falling back to sleep.

Yō tilted her head with one ear up and the other pressed against her head as she smiled softly and gazed lovingly at the girl below her.

She figured it was okay to stay like this for a bit.  The case would still be there later.

See Ya Soon, a fanfic

Been a while since I wrote anything and though I’ve got some in the works and some ideas for some, just haven’t either finished them or put them down yet. So here’s some more Sonamy because you can never get enough Sonamy. Sorry if it seems rushed. Tried to get it done since I will be heading out for the weekend shortly. ENJOY!!

‘It’s been a while Ames.’ Sonic wrote down on the small folded card with his semi-sloppy hand writing. It seems he couldn’t even slow down his own calligraphy to make concise script. ‘I know you’re having a blast over there! Wish I could join you…’

He leaned back in the chair he was sitting in and propped his feet on the small desk he was utilizing in Tails’ workshop. He tucked his hands behind his quills as a makeshift headrest. With a small smile cocked across his face, he gazed up at the rafters in contemplation on what to write next.

It was a few weeks ago that Amy headed off on an opportunity to go abroad on a big international voyage. Of course she took it, who wouldn’t? Especially as someone so interested in history and other cultures as her. But Sonic opted to stay back to ensure Eggman stayed in check. The madman would have left no room for hesitation for his next ‘master plan’ if he found the blue hedgehog was on vacation for an extended period of time. So not new to the concept Sonic did what he had to; even if that meant being away from his other half for a number of weeks.

The two had been exchanging letters when they could. It wasn’t Sonic’s preferred mode of communication but Amy thought it was a cute, rustic, romantic, and all that so what really could he do. But Sonic was quick to find that he kind of liked the letters. Personal, private, the gratification once finally received, and the cool dude found it easier to write out what he wanted to say than to stumble over his words when he’d try and articulate them. So he kept writing.

Keep reading

Finally Free

Originally posted by xmendaily

Pairing: Warren Worthington III x Reader

Request: “Is it possible to make the reader have demon like wings with a tail and she is found after the apocalypse. Where her wings can shrink to hide her wings and enlarges if she wants to fly. She doesn’t show her wings until one night she reveals it when she wanted to fly and there she meets warren and there they get close and she reveal why she hides her wings”

Warnings: Reader hates their wings

You were found wandering the streets, tucked into a coat as the rain fell long and hard. You had your mutant abilities well disguised at the moment, your tail tucked under your coat, your wings shrunk to fit under your shirt. But with Cerebro, Charles Xavier was still able to find you huddled under the lip of a roof, the rain still managing to soak you through.

                        You looked up when you heard the sound of feet on gravel, a group of people heading toward you. A man in a wheelchair was in the front, looking directly at you. You struggled to stand up, ready to fight off whoever these people are.

                        “Relax,” the man in the wheelchair said, stopping in front of you. You didn’t lower your hands, surveying the people behind him. One looked normal, one was a younger blue kid, and the third a blond with huge metal wings, the rain drumming against them loudly.

                        “As you can see, we’re like you,” the man said, pointing back at his friends.

                        “How do you know what I am?” you asked, glaring at all of them.

                        “I can see mutants,” the man said. He stuck out a hand. “I’m Charles Xavier. We’re here to take you to a safe place, if you want.”

                        You hesitated before shaking his hand loosely, snatching your hand back almost immediately.

                        “Y/N,” you said shortly. Charles nodded, gesturing toward each of the people behind him.

                        “This is Hank, Kurt, and Warren. They live at my school for mutants,” he said. You frowned.

                        “There’s a school for that?” you said skeptically. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

                        “I’m a telepath, let me show you,” Charles said. You frowned. “I don’t let anyone in my head, especially a stranger.”

                        “Trust him,” the blond- Warren- spoke up. “I promise, we’re not here to hurt you.”

                        You stared at him, surprised by the soothing tone of his voice. You nodded slowly, Charles putting two fingers to his head. You gasped when your mind was suddenly filled with pictures of a school, students milling everywhere. They were practicing their mutations freely, not caring who saw. As the images left you, you nodded.

                        “I’ll come with you,” you relented. Charles nodded, turning back to look at Kurt.

                        “Can you handle this many people?” he asked. Kurt nodded, holding out his hands. Charles looked over at you. “Take his hand.”

                        You reached out hesitantly, just touching Kurt’s hand. “Why what’s going to-“

                        You felt your breath leave you, the world around you starting to spin, the rain smacking you in the face. A couple seconds later, the felt your feet hit the ground, stumbling. You opened your eyes to see you were standing in the front of a massive building. You looked over the whole thing, your eyes wide. Warren grinned from beside you.

                        “Impressive, isn’t it?” he said. You nodded, biting your lip nervously. Warren waved a hand toward the building. “Welcome to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”

                        You couldn’t help your mouth falling open in awe as the group entered the huge front doors, revealing a whole mess of kids walking back and forth across the entrance, books in their hand and lively chatter filling the room. Charles stopped beside you.

                        “Welcome to the school. We’ll get you settled soon enough,” he told you, motioning Kurt and Warren forward.

                        “They can show you around,” Charles instructed. You took a deep breath as Charles nodded once, rolling off with Hank close behind. You were left with Kurt and Warren.

                        “Come on, we’ve got a lot to show you,” Warren said. He bounded down the front stairs, Kurt flashing you a reassuring smile.

                        “Vou’ll get used to all zhe people,” he said. You could only trust his words as Warren and Kurt showed you around the entire school, your head spinning. Near the end, Warren turned to you.

                        “So, Kurt’s ability is teleportation, mine is these wings. What’s yours?” he asked expectantly. You stopped, your eyes flicking away from him.

                        “It doesn’t matter,” you mumbled.

                        “We’re all accepted here, it’s okay,” Warren said. You shook your head. “I said it doesn’t matter.”

                        Warren held up his hands. “Okay. I won’t press you.” But what you wanted to tell him was that you hated your wings and tail. They were the reason your parents threw you out, because you didn’t look human. You wished you had never had the mutation.


                        A few weeks later, you were slowly fitting in and getting used to all the people. But after all the time your wings spent pressed up against your back, they began feeling cramped. You decided to sneak up to the roof one night to stretch them out.

                        You headed out of your room quietly around midnight, putting down your feet with care. You managed to make it to the roof without waking anyone up. You shrugged off your jacket, letting your wings expand to their full extent, the wind catching in them and stretching them out satisfyingly. You readied yourself to jump off for a quick flight when someone spoke behind you.

                        “So that’s your mutation.”

                        You spun around to see Warren standing there, his wings glittering in the moonlight. He stepped forward, you getting more and more nervous as he came closer.

                        “You have a tail, too? That’s awesome,” he said, noticing the tail that whipped around behind you.

                        “It’s not as awesome as you think,” you said bitterly. “At least your wings look… like wings. Mine are wings that a demon would have. Large, pointy, and ugly.”

                        “They’re not ugly,” Warren said, stretching his own wings out.

                        “They’re beautiful. You shouldn’t have to hide them, not here.” He ran a hand through his hair.

                        “How about this, I go with you on your flight tonight, and tomorrow I get you in the morning, and we both spend the day with our wings out and proud.”

                        You smiled at the ground, unused to the kindness Warren was showing you.

                        “Why not?” you said finally. Warren grinned.

                        “Great! Nobody will criticize you, not here. I promise,” Warren said, taking your hand and smiling. “Now come on. We’ve got a flight to get to.”

                        You followed him off the edge of the building, the wind catching in your wings and fluttering your hair. You breathed in the crisp night air. You felt freer than you had in so long.


For a while in our marriage, it was pretty tight,“ he says. "And we liked that. We like living sort of hand-to-mouth. It makes you appreciate the time when you don’t have to live like that. We didn’t want to go to my parents and tuck our tails between our legs and be like, ‘Can you help us?’ We wanted to be our own adults. […] There was once another Hammer, by the name of MC, who spent all of his money really quickly, and I would like to avoid that.