#fluffier

[galianbeast]

my special little guy that gets all the cool forms he wants

[ragnarlothcat]

I love your fic 'praise you'. Anakin misunderstanding Obi-Wan at every turn, and the hints of Obi-Wan being jealous of Padme. When he finally knew the truth he was all up Anakin, the audience saw that he called him dearest 👀. It was absolute perfection. I love how we saw Anakin finally feeling at peace and Obi-Wan fearing he'd like to stay. And the ending, it was so good, the writing immaculate. Obi-Wan finally revealed how he felt watching Anakin blush at people's praises. We finally saw them be together, the longing, and the praising. Furthermore, the Ruvane finally got their wish. Thank you so much for sharing this amazing story with us!! 🌸🌸

Thank you!!! 💙💙💙 I briefly worried that I'd written poor Anakin as too obtuse but then I remember that gifset of Anakin saying he doesn't understand things (I've just tried to find it again but clearly searching "Anakin says what" is not the way to do that) and figured it was probably fine. Besides, miscommunication is the bedrock of obikin!

Anyway I'm so glad you liked it because I overthought this one hard! It was going to be much shorter (I know I say this about everything) and it was really just going to be smut. But then I got really invested in my new species and their culture and it all snowballed from there!

But yes, everyone gets what they want in this fic except that one guy I mentioned in the end notes, whichever Jedi has to fetch debauched Obi-Wan and Anakin and presumably Palpatine who explodes for some reason, as is tradition.

[crispychrissy]

Fluffier

Summary: A few days later and Steve is still hanging out, but he has some questions that you can't answer while a wolf. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, you can feel the change back coming soon. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Word Count: 4097 Warnings: Fluff, language, descriptions of body shifting/changing, angst, talk of past traumas and medical stuff A/N: This is a continuation of the story Fluff, so you definitely want to read that first before you read this. I'm currently writing a part three to this, so keep an eye out soon for it. :) It was beta'd by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please follow me on Ao3 if you want, I cross-post all my stories there as well.

Marvel Masterlist

As the empty plastic packaging of the beef jerky you’d just wolfed—no pun intended—down fluttered to the ground, you licked your chops, turning to look at the unfairly warm supersoldier laying prone next to you on the bed. It was two days after Steve discovered your closely guarded secret, and he was still here, bringing you food and keeping you company.

Steve had fallen asleep almost an hour ago, his hand buried in the thick fur of your right shoulder. You were content to allow him to sleep, until you felt the first telltale spasm of your leg muscles. When you poked his cheek with your nose and whined softly, Steve lifted his head and blinked blearily at you.

“Wha-?” He was instantly on alert after looking into your concerned eyes, and quickly scanned the room for threats before returning to meet your gaze. “What’s wrong?”

It took a few seconds of thought to figure out how to explain to Steve what was going to happen. Rising from the bed, you smirked at the disappointed grunt he gave when your furry warmth disappeared. Steve’s eyes followed you as you trotted over to your dresser, and his eyebrows pinched together when he watched you delicately nose and snuffle at the framed picture of you and Wanda that resided there.

“You… want me to get Wanda?” Steve asked, rubbing a hand down his face, obviously still too sleepy for wolf charades. You shook your head and pressed your nose flat against where you were in the picture, letting out a soft woof. When you exhaled a sigh, your breath fogged up the glass, and when you pulled away, there was a perfect nose-shaped smudge of moisture over your face in the picture. Miming things was something all pack members learned, but you’d spent the last five years either in captivity or hiding who you were, so you’d gotten somewhat rusty at complicated non-verbal communication.

Luckily, Steve was a smart cookie. “Oh… you’re going to change back to human?” You nodded and he smiled. “Understood. How do you know when you’ll switch back? Is it something your brain tells you, or can you change at will after a specific point in time?” When you glared at him, he laughed and shook his head. “Right, too much. I’ll ask when you’re back on two legs.”

When you leaned back and balanced on your hind legs, wiggling your front paws in the air, Steve shook his head and chuckled. He was an extremely curious person, and over the last two days he’d peppered you with various questions about what you were, where you came from, and other inquiries about your species. Some you could answer with miming, while others were either too complicated to explain via a game of charades or required things you couldn’t show him while you were in wolf form. He did learn pretty quickly how to interpret your minute wolfy facial expressions, much to your relief.

When Steve didn’t leave the room, you glared at him. “What?”

You dropped back down to four legs and reached out to gently tap your paw on the tattered remains of your pajama pants, trying to convey your message. When you transformed into a wolf, you shredded whatever clothes you happened to be wearing if you couldn’t strip quick enough… so when you turn back to human, you’re exactly how you were when you shifted the first time: completely naked. It took Steve a few minutes to work it out in his mind, but after an amused raise of your canine eyebrow and a teasing swish of your tail, his eyes widened.

“Oh, you’re—OH! Right, you’ll be naked when you turn back.” He jumped up from your bed, smoothed down his shirt and flannel sleep pants, and cleared his throat. “I’ll… be out in the living room. Do you know how long the transformation takes?”

You nodded up and down before tapping the floor with your paw five times.

“Five… five minutes?” When you nodded again, he smiled. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if… you need me?”

You gave him your best wolfy smile, tongue lolling out of the side of your mouth, before he spun around and ducked out the door, closing it firmly behind him.

The transformation from wolf to human took longer than it did from human to wolf, but you still had to actively initiate the process once you felt the tingling muscles of an imminent change. Sure, you could let the tugging and itchy feeling of the change go on until your body changed on its own, but that led to awkward situations and a lot of shredded clothes, much to your annoyance. It began with muscle twitches and an itchy feeling under your skin, and quickly escalated over the course of a few hours until instinct would take over and force you to change right then and there when the moon’s influence began to increase, when going from human to wolf, or wane, when going from wolf to human.

Judging by the way your muscles began to bunch and stretch in your back legs, you knew that if you didn’t actively begin the transformation soon, instinct would take over within the hour and do it for you.

Again.

The mission you were on in Prague a few days ago took a tad longer than you were expecting, allowing you to remain distracted enough to ignore the warning signs, which led to the change coming upon you so rapidly that evening that you hadn’t had time to strip before you turned into a wolf. Sadly eyeing your shredded pajama pants once more, you jumped back onto the bed and quickly settled down on your belly, closing your eyes.

In the beginning, when the elders of the pack are teaching the young ones to transform, the process can be quite painful. The shifting of muscles and bones, and the retreat and growth of fur is taxing on the body, to the point of causing some to pass out from exertion during their first few transformations after they hit puberty. Withdrawing your consciousness into the mental imagery of your choosing allows the change to happen with only mild discomfort as bones settle into their new places, but it takes practice to perfect.

The transformation was different for everyone, some imagined caging darkness or taming something wild to switch back to human, while others welcomed a weary animal into their arms to allow it to finally rest. In your mind, you imagined a dark forest slowly brightening with the rising sun, eating up shadows and sending nocturnal wildlife scurrying into their dens. Between one breath and the next, you felt your fur disappear, your extremities straighten and elongate, and your ears shift to the sides of your head. When you opened your eyes, you shivered at the cool air in your room and looked down at your very human hands where they were stretched out in front of you.

Doing a quick mental scan of your body to make sure everything was in its proper place, you got up from the bed and stretched, lifting your hands up high in the air and rocking forward on your tiptoes to stretch your back, moaning softly in pleasure when your joints popped and shifted to support two-legged walking once more.

“Y/N?” Steve called from behind the closed door.

“Yeah,” your voice was raspy and hoarse due to disuse, so you cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I’m getting dressed. I’ll join you in one second.”

Steve gave an affirmative noise and you quickly darted to your dresser and opened the various drawers to pull out a bra and underwear, a t-shirt, and pants. Getting dressed expediently was something all werewolves learned, and you were fully dressed and opening the door to your bedroom only fifteen seconds later. Steve was pacing in your living room, and he stopped dead in his tracks when the door opened, turning to look at you.

“Werewolf,” Steve blurted, his eyes widening and his cheeks darkening in color when his brain caught up to what his mouth just said.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, moving into the room to sit down on the couch. “Werewolf.”

“Sorry,” Steve mumbled, dropping down to sit at the other end of the couch opposite from you. “I’m just… I have so many questions and my brain can’t keep up with organizing them all. But before you say anything, I’m sorry for overriding your security lockdown, I was worried.” He tapped his left ear. “Enhanced hearing, I heard really shallow breathing and thought something was wrong… didn’t expect to find a panting wolf laying on your bed.”

The bark of laughter that escaped your mouth made Steve raise his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I just wish you could have seen your face when you walked into my room. It was priceless.”

Steve snorted and rubbed the back of his neck, giving you an embarrassed shrug. “Yeah, well, you try reaching out to comfort someone and end up finding a giant wolf instead.”

Steve looked up at you when you placed your hand on his arm. “I really did appreciate the sentiment, Captain, even if it wasn’t quite the time of the month you assumed it was.”

“I wanted to make sure you’re taken care of and comfortable,” Steve nodded before he smiled at you; you could practically see the questions swirling behind his eyes. “So, judging by how well you were able to communicate with me and how aware you are of yourself in that form, I’m guessing you were born a werewolf?”

He was referring to the several wrestling matches you’d had over the last few days which had allowed you both to expend some pent-up energy in a safe environment; it wasn’t like Steve could walk down to the gym with a wolf at his side. You were an even match with Steve while in wolf form, or perhaps even stronger, but if you weren’t careful, you could bite or scratch and injure someone without realizing. A few times when you’d had Steve pinned under your bulk, wolfy tendencies like fighting for dominance bubbled to the surface and you’d come close to nipping at his neck with your teeth.

“I was,” you confirmed. “The pack I was born into was one of the eleven major North American werewolf packs left at the time.” Sadness filled your eyes, and you dropped your chin. “That number is down to only four now.”

This time, Steve placed his hand on your arm before scooting closer, his comforting and familiar presence setting you at ease even though you really didn’t know him outside his role during missions. Still, you knew at this moment it was Steve Rogers in front of you, not Captain America.

“Can I ask what happened?”

Steve had asked while you were in wolf form, which you’d been unable to answer at the time, but now you were human, there was no more avoiding the question. “We’ve been fading out for centuries. Less and less pups,” Steve raised a confused eyebrow and you smiled, “pups are baby werewolves. So few have been born, leading to packs getting smaller and smaller to the point of needing to be absorbed by others or dissolving completely.”

“Which does yours fall under?” Steve asked tentatively.

You pulled your eyes away from his crystal blues and stared at your hands clasped in your lap. “Mine was the third to fall apart. I was the last pup born, and the first one born to the pack in almost forty years, before things collapsed. I was still so young when all of the leaders and elders of our pack disappeared overnight, took our supplies and the horses, and vanished.”

Steve’s eyes widened, then hardened. “They just left?” His head tilted adorably. “Wait, horses? How old are you?”

“In human years? Well, werewolves age very slowly after thirty or so, so that would actually put me around your age, Cap,” you snarked, knowing you were actually a few years older than him. “But the werewolves that left, a few wanted to experience what they considered a normal life, others wanted to join another larger pack with more… variety and better things to offer.” You left the explanation vague on purpose, but based on Steve’s tightening shoulders, he knew exactly what you were referring to. “Normally there would be a pack vote, all members have a voice and a choice when it comes to major choices about the pack as a whole. But we were so small… the leaders just decided to go their own way without any input, taking the strongest of the pack with them, assuming those who wanted to would find them and follow.”

“And I’m guessing that’s not what happened?” Steve asked.

“No,” you gave a watery laugh. “You were in the Army in World War II, right?” He nodded. “Imagine being at a base waiting for orders, and overnight all of your commanders vanished, taking all the intel, maps, and equipment with them. What would happen?”

Steve let out a heavy yet soft breath. “Chaos.”

The story was painful, but you retold it. You explained how hurt you were when you woke up and realized everyone except you and a dozen others were left out of the forty who were there the night before. Steve tensed when you explained the horrible infighting that erupted and lasted for decades as those remaining fought for dominance, even though you were all inexperienced and unequipped to handle the responsibility. Steve held your hand when the memories became too overwhelming, resulting in you having to pause and compose yourself.

When you lifted the hem of your shirt and showed Steve the mark on your hip, his hands curled into fists. Three inches long and two inches wide, the jagged scar of a crescent moon was forever burned into your skin, branded there by Jeremy, the tyrant werewolf that rose to power in the pack after using violence and threats to beat everyone else into submission. You closed your eyes, fighting the wave of nausea as memories of that night filled your senses, memories of being pinned down and the smell and pain of burning flesh.

“He said it was a reminder,” you explained, “that we belonged to him and he could do whatever he wanted with us.”

Steve’s outrage didn’t lessen as you began the story of how Jeremy sold you to a group of scientists who were interested in studying unique creatures. According to the bits and pieces of conversations you’d heard during your captivity, they were trying to see if they could isolate and create a serum to turn someone into a werewolf. Steve was extremely interested when you told him that contrary to popular belief, werewolves cannot be created through bites, they can only be born. Biting a human while in werewolf form would do the same thing as if it was an actual wolf doing the biting: nothing.

“And that’s how Fury found you? SHIELD raided the facility?” Steve asked, his chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths to calm himself.

“Yeah, and it was actually Sharon who called Fury in when she found me lying on the cold concrete floor of my cell, half dead and fading in and out of consciousness.” You smiled at Steve’s surprised reaction to Sharon’s name. “Come on, Cap. You know Sharon can keep a secret.”

Although he tried to hide it, Steve snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, she can. How long did it take them to realize you weren’t human?”

“Only a few minutes. The scientists made me wear this stretchy leather bracelet, it had GPS and this taser-like thing, so they could find me if I tried to run or zap me if I got too aggressive while I was in wolf form.” You wrapped your left fingers around your right wrist, the phantom pressure of the bracelet making your skin itch. “It had an ID number printed on it, so I’m guessing Sharon just dug through the computer and cross referenced my ID number to find my file. It wasn’t like they tried to keep what I was confidential, it said ‘Species: Werewolf’ right at the top.”

“Most evil organizations aren’t very security conscious when it comes to the files they have. Romanoff said the last few we took on had encryption that looked like it was written by a ten-year-old.” Steve’s amused smile slowly disappeared as he glanced over at you. “I’m really sorry that happened to you, Y/N. I’ve always been curious about the source of your abilities, but I would have never guessed it was because you’re a werewolf. Did Fury convince you to come work for SHIELD?”

You exhaled out of your nose and shrugged. “He didn’t really have to. Whatever home I had with my pack disappeared the moment Jeremy sold me to those scientists.”

“Another pack wouldn’t take you in?” Steve asked quietly. “I doubt they would have stood by without intervening if they knew what you were subjected to.”

Sweet naïve Steve, you thought to yourself before shaking your head. “Unfortunately, that’s not how it works. Whoever becomes the leader of the pack doesn’t have to report to anyone, there’s no check-ins or meetings with other packs aside from the event of a merging of two packs. As long as Jeremy was recognized as leader, he could do whatever he wanted with no repercussions, or at least until someone challenges him for the title.”

Steve swallowed hard, and you could practically taste the flames from the question burning on his tongue. “So, you really have to rely on the leaders for pretty much everything.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “The concept is crazy to me, but I’m an outsider, I wasn’t raised in it, so I wouldn’t know. It’s really similar to how wolves in the wild are, though, right?”

“Well, similar in some respects, yeah,” you explained, trying to find a way to elaborate without sounding like the narrator from a nature documentary on the Discovery Channel. “Aside from the obvious of having a human form that can function as any normal human can, pack hierarchy is very similar to wolves. One pack leader, or Alpha, controls the day-to-day operations of the pack, like where we’re staying, delegation of jobs and tasks, and they also direct cash flow.”

“Where did you rank in the pack? You’re a smart girl, I doubt any good leader would not keep you close to the top.” Steve bumped his shoulder against yours, and you almost jumped, not realizing he had moved closer as you’d been talking and was now sitting right next to you.

“I was a high tier Beta, and I did advise the prior pack Alpha on decisions and helped him create work schedules.” You paused, gathering your thoughts and hoping Steve didn’t ask anything more about the other roles of each designation. “And lastly, yet most importantly, are Omegas. They are the caretakers of the pack, responsible for helping raise and educate the children.”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it, before swiping a hand down his face. “I have a lot more questions about the specifics of the pack, but it’s not my place to keep prying like that.” Before you could tell him that you didn’t mind, that it was nice to actually talk about it with someone, he moved on. “I want to make sure you’re comfortable on the team, first and foremost.”

The quick change in subject almost gave you whiplash. “I am, Captain.”

He smirked. “I think we’re on a first-name basis now, Y/N. You can call me Steve outside of missions.”

“Okay, Steve,” you said teasingly, “but yeah, I mean it. I really am comfortable on the team. I make sure to sign up for missions outside the days I shift, and nobody’s treated me any differently even though they might not know where my powers originate.”

“Then why hide what you are? Nobody on the team would treat you any different if they knew. Having a wolf during a mission could be useful—I’m sure you have better senses than both me and Buck while you’re on four legs—but we wouldn’t force you to go on missions as a wolf if you didn’t want to. It would just be in case something happens, like if you can’t get back here before your shift begins, we can protect you.” Steve paused when he looked at your face, taking in your concerned and fearful gaze. “I’m… I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. This is one-hundred percent your choice.”

The silence between you was heavy in the air, and you peered up at Steve, surprised at the honest sincerity on his face. It wasn’t as if you were worried about Steve spilling the beans, you knew he wouldn’t. You were worried about the team’s reactions. Even though you were still the same person, and it was only their understanding of your true species that would change, you didn’t want any more attention on you than there already was.

“I know you wouldn’t,” you murmured, “but that’s… not what I’m worried about. I spent the last few years of my life being nothing more than a science experiment, I’m sure you can understand that feeling.” Steve smiled softly and nodded. “If you present Tony and Bruce with something they didn’t understand or don’t have any information about, what would be the first thing they’d want to do?”

Steve sighed, his facial features relaxing when he finally realized the reason for your hesitance. “Do a bunch of tests and take samples and scans to better understand. Right, I see what you mean.”

“And Bucky and Natasha? It’s ingrained in them to dig into things to better understand them, through hacking, research, interrogation, or breaking into places.” You shivered, but not because you were cold, and you leaned away from Steve when he tried to offer his body heat. “The only copy of my file from that facility is in one of Fury’s secure document storage locations. I really don’t want anyone digging into my past or sticking their nose in places where it might end up being bitten off.”

Steve understood your reasoning, of course he would. A human experiment of his own who was also subjected to testing and monitoring, he knew at least some of what you went through during your captivity. You also knew he read all the Hydra files Natasha discovered on Bucky’s captivity and what he was subjected to when they wanted to test the serum’s effectiveness. Even though you didn’t specifically say it, he knew you were likely given the same treatment as Bucky when the scientists tried to understand your species.

“Do you think he’ll come after you?” Steve asked.

The question was something that had crossed your mind after SHIELD had rescued you, but you doubt Jeremy knew where you’d ended up after the facility was raided and shut down. He probably thought you were killed a long time ago. “I don’t think so. He has no reason to. He was paid up front, it wasn’t like he was getting a stipend or something each month I was being experimented on and would come sniffing around when the money flow stopped.”

“Well, even though I understand your reasoning and respect it, I still think you should talk to the team,” Steve offered, relaxing back on the couch. “You don’t have to tell them specifically what you are, but maybe just some information about your circumstances to help in case things go sideways on a mission. If you want, we can go talk to them now, everyone should be gathering for dinner.”

The request was sincere, and you chewed the inside of your lower lip. It would be nice to not have to hide in your room when you were a wolf, and being able to run around the compound and wrestle and play with everyone would be fantastic to help burn off the excess wolfy energy you accumulated. However, you were still reluctant to dive in with your eyes closed. You needed more time to go over specifics and had to develop a plan to explain what you were without specifically saying what you were.

Smiling at Steve, you nudged his shoulder. “I’ll think about it.”

Looking back, you wished you’d listened to him.

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

Butterflies/Chapter 6

Just in case someone like doesn’t get it, this is in Chrollo’s point of view. Also, sorry if the ending seems choppy, I was having a little writers block there

Chrollo didn’t sleep that night. Not only was he kept awake by the fear that Celestia’s father would find him, but he also feared for Celestia herself. To Chrollo, people were no different than puppets, but this one was important. He was starting to feel as if it were more than just his plan that she was valuable to for some reason. He couldn’t quite figure it out. What was it about this girl that piqued him so much? She wasn’t all that interesting, she was quite naive and even childish in some ways, but it was oddly appealing. She just had this irresistible aura around her. Soft and reserved, yet when Chrollo associated with her in any way it seemed to bloom into something stronger. Something exquisite.

Celestia was currently asleep next to him. He had convinced her that she needed the rest if she was still going to school the next day. He offered to take her, which took some more convincing but eventually she had agreed. He had to admit, he was a little upset that he had to stay the entire night. Originally, he planned to leave sometime early on. However, this plan was refuted from the fact that Celestia’s father, Nicholas, stayed awake the entire night complaining about the girl. Chrollo was curious to know what such an honest and completely harmless girl could have done to deserve treatment like this.

Her room wasn’t even a room, it was more like a pen. She only had a springy mattress, a thin blanket, and her windows were bolted shut. The smell from her closet indicated that she hadn’t washed clothes in a long time. She may not have been able to. Something else too. Chrollo noticed obscured objects shining in the back of the closet. He didn’t want to make a move to see what they were, afraid he’d make noise and warrant a worse punishment for the already terrified Celestia. He just assumed they were other devices she kept hidden in her closet, yet when he opened the door and noticed the glare again, he knew. Blades. Before she put on her jacket at the café, Chrollo hadn’t noticed any visible scarring on her arms, other than some red marks covered in what must have been makeup. He could tell they were recent, though chose not to mention them.

A quiet snore broke into his mind, halting his train of thought. His eyes examined her features while she was asleep. She was thin, but not anorexic. Her thighs and hips still held onto meat and fat, producing a pleasing curve. Her waist was significantly smaller though, slightly worrying him for her eating habits. Sunken in. Her neck and arms looked easy to break if moved the wrong way. Her face was covered by her forearm. Long eyelashes curtained over too-high freckles on her flushed cheeks and long dark brown hair lay over her shoulder, messy from tossing and turning.

A part of him wanted to help her, to move her away from this. At the same time though, he knew he couldn’t. He had too much at stake to risk a young girl. What caused him more anxiety was the amount of care he possessed for her. Any other person was disregarded immediately. This one was different. She kept him close for some reason. Maybe it was her emotional vulnerability, or just her charming personality. Innocence. Her natural self. She made an attempt to hide her life, but Chrollo knew she would fail eventually. She would have told him.

I feel safer with you than anyone else.

That was what she told him. The words shocked him at first, though after a few seconds the hype died down. He should have expected it from someone like her. Especially after last night. It made sense.

Celestia turned over, her back now facing him. The sun hadn’t come up yet, though a buzzing sound startled him. Chrollo scanned the mattress. Her phone vibrated against his leg. Chrollo flipped it over.

4:00. His brows furrowed under his bandage on his forehead. Why would she get up at 4 in the morning? A soft grunt caused him to turn back to her. Celestia turned back over, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. She didn’t acknowledge him at first, simply picking up her phone and staring at it for a good five seconds. Blinking a few times, she shut the alarm off, plugging her phone into the charger. When she turned around and saw Chrollo, her tired eyes widened, then softened at the realization.

“Oh jeez, I forgot you stayed…” her voice was hoarse. It crackled against her throat as she cleared it. Chrollo didn’t respond right away, just staring. He hummed after a few seconds, standing up.

“Why do you wake at four and not five like everyone else?” he questioned. After it came out though he realized how invasive it sounded. Normally, Chrollo could control the words that came out of his mouth. Though he discarded the slip up almost immediately.

“I don’t want my parents to rush me and then risk them driving me.” her explanation was simple. Straight to the point. She hid nothing. With what he witnessed last night, Chrollo almost didn’t want her taking the bus at all anymore, not wanting to risk her driving with her father either. Celestia sighed quietly before getting up fully and moving towards the closet, pulling out the skirt and shirt she wore the first day they met. It most likely wasn’t the same one, though it looked similar of course. Celestia left to go in the bathroom to change, coming back soon after with some makeup on to cover her freckles and mascara to accentuate her already long lashes, bringing more attention to her hazel eyes. The method worked.

“Would you like to leave now, or wait a little longer?” Chrollo figured they would leave relatively soon due to her parents finally falling asleep and allowing the two of them some time. Celestia let out another tired sigh.

“We should go now, before anyone wakes up…” her eyes closed, signaling how tired she was. She had gotten a decent amount of sleep- almost six hours- though with her fathers harsh treatments, she probably needed more. He subconsciously noted this in the back of his mind. Chrollo nodded, letting her grab up her bag and leading her out the door.

Celestia signaled with her hands to be as quiet as possible. The both of them were silent as they moved down the stairs to the main room. Nobody was downstairs, though a loud snoring could be heard as her father slept. Celestia opened the door for Chrollo and let him leave first, then shut the door behind her and locked it. Chrollo waited for her to follow him.

“Do you know the way to Silver Sycamore?” she asked. Chrollo thought briefly, mapping out the little town in his head.

“Of course.” he replied, still trying to remember the exact location. Once they reached the car, Celestia waited for him to unlock it. Even after he did so, she faltered, not opening the door. He glanced up at her, noticing her small figure leaning against the car door. She was still so tired.

“Tia? You up?” he chuckled.

“Hmm?” she hummed, standing up, “Oh…” she giggled a little and opened the door, plopping herself down into the seat. It was likely she would pass back out when they started driving. He didn’t mind, he was just slightly hoping she’d stay awake in case he went the wrong way.

His theory proved correct as he turned to look at her again. Her hair covered her face but he could tell her eyes were closed, her full lips parted for easier breathing. Chrollo urged the car forward while still trying to map things out in his head. He had figured out where the school was, now he just had to think of his plan.

He had already known who Celestia was and who her father was, but to have it confirmed last night made him feel more confident in his planning. Though, what he hadn’t expected was how Celestia would have been treated. This would be an obstacle. She was his ticket in, but he couldn’t be seen with her. It was likely she didn’t know much about the dance at all now that he thought about it. She must not have known about the valuable artifacts at Angel May’s home then. There was no way Celestia had ever even been there in the first place. He would have spoken to her about this, however, she was currently unconscious.

The school wasn’t too far now, he remembered the large sycamore trees lining the road. Chrollo pulled into the parking lot for a few moments before making a move. He would let her sleep some more, at least until 6 when the busses arrived. It would take a while, but he didn’t mind. He took his phone from the middle compartment to text Phinks.

You: Is everyone there?

Phinks: Yeah, where are you?

You: I’m still with the girl, some things happened last night and I didn’t trust her alone.

Phinks: What happened?

You: I’ll explain once I get there, shouldn’t be too much longer. She didn’t get much sleep last night so I’ll give her some more time until her buses arrive.

Phinks: Okay then.

Chrollo set his phone down again and turned to Celestia. She was very pretty. Her pale skin looked delicate against the darker colors of her uniform and his car seat. It was almost as if it wasn’t a person in his passenger seat, but a doll. A well crafted, fragile doll. The only indication of life at all was the rise and fall of her small chest.

After some time, Chrollo heard engines behind him and around him. He peeked in the rearview. Other kids cars were pulling in and some early buses parked near the doors. He tapped Celestia’s shoulder, not wanting to grab her and end up scaring her again.

“Hmm?” she hummed, opening her eyes for the third time that day.

“We’re here,” he said quietly, “I have to go for now, but I’ll talk to you later, sound good?”

“Yeah, again, sorry for last night… I-“

“It’s alright. Just go try to enjoy your day as much as you can.” he offered her a gentle smile. She returned the gesture, thanking him before getting out and making for the doors. He stayed to make sure she got in before starting his car again to leave.

~§~

The hideout was a little crowded, he had to admit he could have chosen something better. Uvogin and Franklin couldn’t even stand in the small space provided and the bunker was unbearably hot from everyone’s body heat. There wasn’t much else to choose from though, and they knew that.

Uvogin, a werewolf of man everyone swore was half giant at 8 foot tall, crouched at the highest point in the bunker, acknowledging Chrollo’s entrance.

“Hey boss! Where have you been?” Uvogin was obnoxious, breaking everyone’s focus. The rest of the troupe turned their attention to their leader as he entered the bunker.

“I got caught up with her.” Chrollo’s voice no longer held the gentle lilt it had for Celestia. It was empty, devoid of any emotion. Franklin made a face, his thick brows knitting together.

“Her father came home earlier than she had expected, and he wasn’t at all what I had thought him to be.” he explained. Chrollo thought, since Celestia looked like a well taken care of child and with how high up in his job he was, that Nicholas Fae was a man of class and high intellect. His abuse toward the girl proved Chrollo wrong. The rest of the group were now completely focused on what Chrollo had to say.

“From what I’ve gathered, we’ll need to be careful. He’s obviously abusive toward Celestia and likely won’t like me in her presence at any time during the night, or any of you for that matter, though she is our ticket in. I’ll gather more information from her in a few days if she knows anything. In the meantime, the rest of you will continue to search for possible input from others as well. I would suggest staying away from the girl, I’ll handle it.” Chrollo explained. Deep down, he realized, he didn’t want any of the other members interacting with her for other reasons as well. Strange.

“I found a list of all the items in Angel’s home.” Shalnark, a boyish looking man with a blonde bowl cut and huge green eyes, spoke up. He held out a list of everything for Chrollo to take. He took this list, scanning over all of the items though he wasn’t paying attention like he normally would. He handed the list back to Shalnark, thinking for a moment.

“You alright boss? You seem a little off…” Machi mentioned. The pink haired woman had her arms crossed over her chest, though concern shown in her blue eyes.

“Yeah. I’m fine, thank you. Just a little ruffled from Nicholas, that’s all. I was afraid he’d catch me and ruin our chances.” Chrollo replied. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Though Chrollo could easily kill Nicholas with no issue, he refused to do so in front of Celestia. He might end up deterring her when he wanted her to be drawn in closer.

Machi seemed satisfied with this answer and didn’t ask any further questions. Chrollo was happy with that. He needed time unbothered to sort out his thoughts. About the plan. About the situation. About Celestia. He needed to know more about what drew him to her. If he could find out fast enough, he could stop it entirely and no feelings would interfere in his plans. Though, a part of him didn’t mind the feeling. A part of him wanted to revel in it, but it would overtake him and as a leader and a criminal, he couldn’t have that.

[heartsoftruth]

Jesse Lingard of Manchester United warming up before the Premier League match between Manchester United and Chelsea FC at Old Trafford on August 11, 2019

[chickenscript]

A/N: uwu these are meant to be platonic. i feel like the bros are really touchy feely with people they grow especially close to and that wouldn’t mind reciprocating it

Mikey:

- he was probably the most adorable being in known existence.

- it was only right that he was best at cuddle time too. 

- together you’re both the pipsqueaks of the group at around the same size and yet, he usually tucks his head under your chin. curling up with you whenever you slept over. you end up in his bed the most so you didn’t have to battle the long limbs of one of his brothers. (occasionally, you all would sleep together if they pulled out enough quilts to create a mix shift mattress in the lair’s den.)

- he wraps his arms around you and tries to be as close as possible. there can’t be a breath of space between you.

- he’s feels so warm and cozy, and likes to whisper-talk to you when neither of you can fall asleep just yet. too hopped up on energy that you’re sure he is projecting enough of for the two of you. you sure as hell didn’t have this much before getting into bed.

- he tells the best stories and knows how to get you laughing if you’ve had a bad day or start to linger on dark thoughts. 

- in the morning, you can’t tell where when of you begins and the other ends. not that you care. mornings aren’t for you.

- still, he’s sweet on you and about how you feel when you eventually wake up.

-you’re grumpy and grumbley, and don’t want to talk until you can bring yourself to open your eyes. which is hard. you’d rather roll over and sleep five more hours.

- he calls you cute and talks about what he wants to do later, nuzzling at you a few times. he sneaks in a few pecks at your cheek and forehead.

- when you do open your eyes, you get a face full of him and his smile that makes up for not having sunshine in the lair.

- you rub noses and giggle together.

- god, did i mention he’s cute?

- cute’s a great thing to wake up to.

Donatello:

- he’s the big spoon.

- every one of the older turtles is the big spoon. end of story.

- when you sleep with don, it’s probably because you two are the resident night owls and it’s one of those evenings where you stay in his lab after hours to talk. unable to wind down like the others. 

- they swear you guys must be nocturnal or something. your internal clocks are so fucked up.

- so, feeling sleepless, you stay awake with don until your eye lids feel heavy and you drag him to his room.

- you throw yourself on first and he crawls in after.

- you sleep back to back because it’s a little awkward for both of you to stare at your friend’s face until you fall asleep. it’s not hard to drift off as soon as you get comfortable- you’re both always way more tired than you think or say.

- by the middle of the night, you manage to arrive in a position where he’s hugging you close from behind, a leg hooked over your hip.

- typically, he wakes up first to realize how he’s ended up embracing you.

- he doesn’t move until after he gives you another squeeze and takes a deep breath of your scent, nuzzling his face into your hair. he and his brothers never get to see humans outside of you and april, and, deep down, he loves the both of you for giving them a chance and looking beyond their appearance.

- he also loves being so close to you.

- he...he’s got this hardwired thing about physical contact. he didn’t know how to ask for it or react to it, but he was learning. just like emotions, which he still had a hard time with.

- did that mean he wanted you to see him all koala’d up to you? no. he gets up and acts like he’s been up for hours, waiting for you to come to. (mikey tells you when he’s lying, but there are times when donnie genuinely can’t sleep a wink and just ends up laying beside you all night. mind plagued by strings of unending thought.)

- when you wake up first, you’re usually holding him by the slim waist, pressing your face against his plastron. there’s probably some drool there and you wipe it off with your shirt.

- you can’t help staring at his relaxed, dreamless face for an undefined time, still groggy eyed, before you get up and wobble to breakfast. (mikey is the best cook ever; hands down. nothing will ever convince you otherwise)

- you leave don there until you’re done eating because you know he needs the extra sleep more than anyone else does.

Leo:

- so, you got stuck with him because you two can’t stop gossiping once you start.

- you fall asleep still chatting, your voices turning into mumbles until it levels out into silence.

- you originally went to bed laying side by side, staring at the ceiling as you spoke, but you end up with your limbs tangled and your head on his chest.

- you wake up a few times in the night because he murmurs in his sleep. unable to stop talking for even a second, apparently. but you don’t toss and turn like you would at home. his sleep laced voice is comforting

- you’re a heavy sleeper otherwise, and you don’t even notice when he ends up grabbing one of your hands. (sometimes in the middle of a night terror) 

- he does in the morning though.

- and he can’t help brushing the back of your hand, and your knuckles. thinking about the very different animal humans were. your skin was so squishy and soft, and weird. different.

- he detaches from you and pokes you awake once he’s decided he wants breakfast.

- you complain and glare at him when you come around. he’s smirking like the imp he is and says something about your bedhead or morning voice. you call him a jackass for it but he tells you he was only joking. you’re not having this and you’re kicking when he hugs you, stoking your grumpiness like he knew it would.

- at the same token, you’re grinning because, even though he had his jerk moments - like don -, he was honest and meant what he said about the joking part.

- his arm is sore from the punch you give him as you both walk to the kitchen. chuckling at each other as you throw around your weight and some really bad jokes.

- but, if you were to wake before him, it would probably only be for a few moments. during which, you squeeze his hand and smile at the twitch in his brow.

Raph:

- the one time you slept with him was because cats.

- you normally didn’t because he was afraid the poky bits on his hide would hurt you, but then he found a whole box of kittens.

- all of you played with them through the night as you binge watched movies. you said you would take them to the shelter you volunteered at the next day and was going to sleep with mike, but raph was worried.

- he didn’t want to squish the kittens in his sleep - they had imprinted on him and didn’t want to leave his side.

- so, he slept on his back and you slept on his chest with the fluffy litter. petting the scraggly kits who could barely move because of how full their round little tums were after raph fed them. he also bathed them, and through every action, treated them with the most gentle hand.

- motherly, almost.

- once he was out cold, he was a wood chipper. but you snored too - from all the poor nights of sleep up before then.

- one of his beefy arms came around to lay on your side and you feel like Timon from the lion king as you curl into it. little warm bodies cuddling up next to your stomach.

- raph rouses first and watches the kittens play on his chest. they gnaw at one of his massive fingers with milkteeth and you wake up when one kicks you in the jaw with squishy toes.

- raph chuckles at their antics and you, being half awake, don’t give a shit about much anything. certainly not that kick.

- once you’re awake enough, - after playing with the kittens a bit and mumbling to raph as he did most of the talking - you crawl off of the turtle and watch him count the kittens as he placed them all one by one back in the box.

- you both go eat breakfast and he waddles back to his room after to feed his kittens.

- you change out of the set of sleep clothes you leave there for overnight visits and into something suitable for the outside.

- it’s a good thing you’re not allergic to cats when you see all the fur stuck on those pajamas.

bonus:

mikey had to figure out how to wash clothes when you started leaving your pajamas at the lair. 

he didn’t mind though, he liked cleaning (his room was mostly clean but all his art supplies made it look differently to the untrained eye). but uh, never leave your underwear. you had a habit of doing that at april’s house but don’t do it to those poor, pure boys. they were a male only household. 

he found your bra and undies once when he collected your pjs that were behind the bathroom door in a heap, and all the turtles couldn’t look at you in the face properly the next time you went over.

you didn’t even know turtles could blush.

and they didn’t know humans could get that red after they told you about the underwear.

[occasionalsylveonandaudino]

Slowpoke: Who's floofier?

…It’s objective.

[elnhdaaclean]

This recipe for butternut squash muffins yields a stunningly vibrant-colored muffin that is ideal for the fall table.