Okay, yâall, I was really hoping I wouldnât have to make this post, but I ainât really got a choice.
This page is very openly a D&Dorks fanpage, and it will remain that way, but for now and the foreseeable future, I and many other D&Dorks fans do not support Matthew Selle (Sir_Superhero) because, through a series of private messages, he has proven to be very ableist.
More information is going to be rolled out about this very slowly, but if you would like to learn about it sooner, feel free to join the server ( https://discord.gg/jzA8B4Jb ).
TO BE CLEAR, this will remain a D&Dorks fanpage, but I will be staying away from anything directly owned by Mr. Selle."
Okay, yâall, I was really hoping I wouldnât have to make this post, but I ainât really got a choice.
This page is very openly a D&Dorks fanpage, and it will remain that way, but for now and the foreseeable future, I and many other D&Dorks fans do not support Matthew Selle (Sir_Superhero) because, through a series of private messages, he has proven to be very ableist.
More information is going to be rolled out about this very slowly, but if you would like to learn about it sooner, feel free to join the server ( https://discord.gg/jzA8B4Jb ).
TO BE CLEAR, this will remain a D&Dorks fanpage because our problem is with Mr. Selle, not the other dorks, but I will be staying away from anything directly owned by Mr. Selle.
Taking someone's cigarette out of their mouth: Multiple meanings - used a lot in media to convey control, power play, very masculine, I'm your boss and this is mine now, get over it. Mildly flirty, look at me, all in your space and shit, seductive. You're not allowed to smoke, because I say so.
Putting the cigarette back in their mouth afterwards: Ground-breaking. Would be less erotic to just fuck honestly. Who does this?
what artists dont tell you is that every compliment is actually 100 compliments because they'll go back to re-read it 100 times and it'll make them feel fuzzy all over again every single time
Callisto finds a kitten on his way home, Prophis couldnât be happier.
Prophis/Callisto (2097 words)
~~
Every year, Callisto swears heâs going to quit working at Bowenburg Academy, and every year, Prophis convinces him to stay, but this really might be the straw that breaks the camelâs back. He stayed late grading papers and helping students with work as they came in and out of his office -having a strange admiration of the teacher that Callisto cannot for the life of him understand, but Prophis always laughs and shakes his head whenever the dark-haired man mentions it- and when he finally decided he should pack up and head home it was nearly 8:30 at night. And to top it all off, it was raining hard enough for the raindrops to sting as they struck Callistoâs skin.
He is power walking home as fast as his 6â5â legs will allow him which makes him look like a grey-and-black blur zipping through the town. Most of the world is simply white noise to him, the only noise being the pounding rain as everything else that is sensible is hiding somewhere dry.
Or at least, thatâs what he thought.
As he rounds a corner, sharper and faster than is safe given the very slick concrete, he stumbles forward as his heel steps on something far too soft, and said soft thing begins yowling and crying loudly. Callisto spins around and sees a tiny black and white kitten, drenched to the bone, and, even to Callistoâs untrained eye, severely malnourished.
The man pauses before the guilt -and some of his animal-loving husbandâs consciousness- overwhelms him, and he steps under a nearby awning and clicks for the kitten as he crouches down.
âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to step on you,â he apologizes quietly, feeling a little ridiculous talking to the tiny creature as he digs into his bag and pulls out his half-eaten salami sandwich, offeringsome of it on his palm to the little thing. The kitten quickly eats it out of his hand before looking up at the tall man expectantly. Callisto gives him more with a small smile.
He offers everything he can to the kitten before standing up. He is beginning to shake with the cold and wants to get back to his husband. He nods to the kitten and turns to walk away before noticing that the kitten is still following him.
âGo on, go home,â He tells it sharply, trying to sound mean and drive it off, but instead he is given an honestly pitiful meow. âOh, youâre quite cold, arenât youâŚâ he says quietly. He intends on taking another step away, but his legs donât seem to be listening to his brain as they instead bring him closer to the sopping wet cat, and his arms seem to be listening even less as they reach to grab the kitten.
He feels around its neck for the collar, deciding that he can deliver the kitten back to his home before coming to the upsetting conclusion that there was no collar.
He straightens up and looks at it for a long moment before sighing heavily. âAlright, then, I suppose youâre coming with me.â
He gently picks up the black-and-white mess of fur. The kitten begins purring as hard as itâs shivering and Callisto canât bring himself to put the kitten down. He gently wrings the excess water out of its fur and looks at him pensively before tucking him down the front of his grey sweater.
Though he was certainly walking fast before, he nearly doubles his speed as he barrels home, feeling the need to deliver this kitten to safety. He silently gives his thanks that their house is not that far from the campus, and he bursts through the door to their little home in only five minutes.
âCallisto!â Prophis yelps, jumping straight up from his seat. âWhat on Earth are you-?â
âCat,â Callisto says bluntly, fishing the mewling thing from his sweater and holding it straight out.
The elf stares at him and the kitten for a long moment before quickly approaching and swiping it from his husbandâs hands.
âOh, Callisto, where did you find this poor little dear?â he asks, immediately fretting over the kitten.
âOn my way home,â Callisto explains as he peels off his drenched jacket and drops his bag by the door. âI accidentally stepped on its tail.â
âYou what?!â Prophis exclaims, turning sharply to look at his husband as if he had said that he had punted the cat.
âOn accident,â Callisto rectifies quickly. âAnd I apologized, and fed it half my lunch.â
The elf inspects the kitten twice over and gives a satisfied nod. âWell, other than being a hungry little fellow, he seems unscathed.â He pauses and turns his gaze to his husband, and the dark-haired man knows that look.
âNo, Prophis,â he says with as much conviction as he can muster in the face of his husband. âWe cannot keep it.â
âWhy not?â the elf pouts. âHeâs perfectly fine and well-mannered!â
âProphis,â Callisto all but pleads.
âOh, come on, you canât be as heartless as to cast the little one out into the rain!â Prophis doubles down, putting his bleeding heart on full display as he cradles the kitten closer to his chest. âHe wouldnât survive the night and winter is just around the corner and-â
âAlright,â the human says tiredly.
âAlright?â Prophis echoes, the hope edging into his voice.
âYes, alright, we can keep it.â Before his husband can properly cheer he adds, âJust until we can find someone who can take care of it instead.â
Prophis has a look on his face for a moment, one that Callisto recognizes as his âIâm plotting something faceâ before he nods with a smile. âWell, if heâs going to stay he needs a name.â
âA name?â Callisto echoes.
âYes, something to call him instead of just âthe kitten,ââ Prophis reasons.
The human considers it for a moment before he concedes with a nod. âI suppose that much can be true.â
The blonde holds up the black-and-white mess of still-soggy fur before saying, âMr. Business.â
Callisto smiles at his husbandâs choice of naming. âWe canât call it that, the Monopoly Man would steal it.â
Prophis sighs. âFair point.â He walks into the living area and gently sets the kitten down on the table, looking at him intently as if the cat will tell them his name.
Callisto follows his husband after a moment. He looks at the kitten before thinking about his lesson on the Greek mythos this evening. âWhat about Clio, after the muse of history and heroic poetry, from the old tales?â
Prophis snickers. âThatâs truly a you thing to say, but look at him.â He gestures at the cat. âThatâs not a hero of old.â As if cued by his words, the cat tries to walk off the table.
The history professor watches with bemusement as his husband scrambles to save the kitten before considering his comment. âYou may have a point.â He pauses, weighing his options before smiling as he says, âDionysus then, the old god of intoxication, that seems to fit the catâs,â he trails off, looking the tiny thing up and down before landing on, âEverything.â
âI still feel a godâs name is too clever for him,â Prophis points out.
Callisto nods, watching as the kitten tries to eat a strand of his husbandâs long white hair. âI suppose youâre right,â he says slowly.
âWhat about,â he trails off before grinning. âSpot? After the three-headed dog.â
Callisto pauses for a long moment, looking at his husband before slowly saying, âDid you just-? Do you mean-?â But the hopeful look in Prophisâ eye causes him to stop. âAlright, love, Spot it is.â
âYay! Spot!â He stands up with Spot and spins around. The cat, to his credit, is completely unbothered, just lazily looking around as the 6-foot elf twirls around with him.
Callisto chuckles. âI donât know what I expected from you,â he says before shaking his head. âScratch that, this is exactly what I expected from youâ
Prophis doesnât even respond as he stands there with the kitten, smiling and laughing. He is on cloud nine with this little thing in his arms because he loves animals, but thatâs not the only reason. While Prophis may love animals, Callisto does not, and one of the compromises they made when getting married and moving in together is that they wouldnât have any pets in the house.
His husband snickers before deciding to be dramatic. He sniffles and pulls his, still-wet, cardigan closer around him. âI was out in the cold rain too, you know. The kittenâs not the only one who needs cuddles.â He huffs and turns to walk towards the stairs. âI suppose Iâll just go curl up in bed under the blankets.â
Callisto barely finishes his sentence before Prophis wraps him in a tight, one-arm hug. He litters his face in kisses, muttering âI love youâ between each one. In his other hand, he holds the kitten away from Callisto in an effort to not smash the tiny thing.
âI love you too, darling, but I really should go dry off.â Prophis huffs, but does not let go, causing Callisto to chuckle. âLet me dry off and then we can cuddle, sound good? Wouldnât want you getting all wet, considering youâve already had your bottom surgery,â he teases, tapping Prophisâ hip.
Prophis slowly blinks as he processes that Callisto is still dripping wet and slowly steps back. âI somehow missed that- yes, yes, go dry off. Iâll be here taking care of this little guy.â He kisses his husband's cheek.
âYou were offered cuddles after a long day of being home alone, and dove for the opportunity, my fault really. Iâll be back in a moment, darling.â Callisto walks off to the bathroom, but a second later his head pops back into the room. âIâd like to point out that âSpotâ is also soaking wet.â
Prophis nods and follows him into the bathroom, sits down on the floor with a towel, and dries the kitten off while cooing at him while Callisto dries up.
Callisto tries to wring the water out of his hair and clothes before mumbling âTo hell with itâ and completely stripping and snatching Prophisâ fluffy pink robe off the wall. He carefully pulls it on before loosely tying it in the front and burying his nose in its soft sleeve. The exhustion of the day begins to catch up with him as his eyes droop and his shoulders sag.
Prophis sees him out of the corner of his eye. He slowly stands up, still cradling the kitten in one hand, and gently readjusts the robe on Callisto with the other.
âPink is your color, love,â Prophis hums, mirth alive in his eyes.
âShh,â he mumbles into the sleeve. He lifts his head just enough to see his husband. âIt smells like you, okay?â
The blonde trails his hand up to Callistoâs face and gently twirls one of the strands of brown hair around his fingers. âMhm,â he hums. âIs that why you steal all my clothes?â he questions. Spot meows and Prophis briefly redirects his attention to the kitten, curling it closer to himself and making sure he is still securely held before giving his attention back to his very suddenly sleepy husband.
âYeah, you have a nice smell, and furthermore, itâs the smell of my husband. Iâd love your smell if you smelled like rancid garbage, but luckily for me you smell like vanilla candles and warmth.â Callisto rests his head against Prophisâ chest, but the cat's tiny tail keeps smacking him in the nose. He makes a disgruntled expression while shifting to rest his head in the crook of his husband's neck.
Prophis snickers as he gently puts the cat down, and wraps his husband in a proper hug before swaying them there. âI still think I smell like stale food, but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless.â
Callisto scowls against his husbandâs neck. âYou do not smell like stale food, this is a hill I will die on.â
The elf laughs, squeezing his husband a little tighter. âI know, we âargueâ about it once a week.â
âYes, yes, we do.â
Prophis sighs. âHow about this, letâs call this argument a draw and go to bed for some proper cuddles?â
Callisto nods with a loopy smile, the need to sleep finally winning.
âI love you,â he says quietly as the blonde leads them to the bedroom.
Prophis smiles. âI love you too, pretty boy, and thank you for bringing home Spot.â
hc that the reason both crowley and aziraphale were fem presenting at some point in the 60s is bc they both got involved in the second wave feminist movement, crowley bc it "causes chaos and challenges the status quo" which means by getting involved he's doing hell's work, and aziraphale because "equality is a fundamentally good thing" so by getting involved he's doing heaven's work. neither contributed much of anything in the end.
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