#they are SLIGHTLY. slightly based off of sugar gliders in the face. which i can see really well on survivor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eastertag · 4 years

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@fallenfurther gift for @willow-salix

Gizmo and Gadget

Prompt: Scott with a sugar glider

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The seatbelt was barely containing Gordon and Scott was starting to feel a bit less comfortable with the idea of being responsible for the naughty thirteen-year-old. Scott’s eyes went back to the road, his grip on the steering wheel a little too tight as the seat squeaked beside him.

“Turn left, Scott! The Hamilton Centre is left!”

Scott sighed as he flipped the indicator. The navigation system was fully capable of getting them there on time. Dad was meant to have taken Gordon but something urgent had popped up and seeing as Scott had just turned eighteen, he now classed as an adult, so was sent to accompany Gordon in his place. How Dad thought Scott could keep Gordon out of trouble he didn’t know. He had tried to convince Dad to send Grandma but apparently that wasn’t going to happen either. So, it was Scott who had to take the teen to the animal centre. Trust Gordon to win first prize in the Discovery Channel’s kids competition. He was barely a kid now! Though you won’t know from his behaviour, or height. A smile crossed Scott’s lips as he stopped at a junction. Gordon was adamant he was going to have a major growth spurt now he was a teenager and would soon be able to look him in the eye. Scott couldn’t deny the fact that his brother was likely to grow, but part of him hoped he’d stay shorter. Scott couldn’t handle Gordon’s bragging at the best of times, let alone if he ended up taller than him. The entrance for the animal rehabilitation centre came into view and Scott caught the massive grin on Gordon’s face out the corner of his eye.

Scott parked up and they both climbed out his car. Gordon ran to the back and retrieved his bag from the trunk. Part of the prize was a swim with the dolphins which couldn’t be released, and Gordon was ecstatic. Heading into the reception they were met by two keepers, who welcomed them with excitement and smiles that rivalled Gordon’s. Scott tried not to put a downer on the situation as he signed the consent forms that were passed straight to him. A quick flash of his diving licence to confirm he was eighteen and that was all that was required from him. Their guides introduced themselves as Joyce and Martin. Joyce was going to give them the tour first and the swim was going to be done by Martin after lunch. Scott followed behind Joyce and Gordon, both animated in their discussion of their favourite animals. Joyce put most her focus into Gordon, which was perfectly fine for Scott, who was happy just to listen.

The centre was large, and there were many other employees going about caring for the animals. The tour took them through the main building which housed small mammals. Then they passed the various pools and enclosures where the larger water-based mammals were kept. Scott was surprised to see so many permanent residents, many of which had injuries which stopped them from being released. The smaller permanent animals were often trained to go out in public and be ambassadors for their species, used to educate people about proper animal care and habitat protection. There was a poorly beaver, and in the aviary, there was some recuperating birds of prey, including a California Condor and a Turkey vulture. Scott was impressed by the Bald Eagle, who had a broken wing that made it unable to fly. Scott was certain Joyce was taking pity on him when she offered to let him hold the bird. He smiled and accepted the offer. A thick leather glove was placed on his hand and he tried not to be unnerved by the dead baby chick that was placed between his finger and thumb. The great bird was then brought close to him. Joyce held his hand as the bird, called George, stepped onto the glove. Scott reacted quickly, tensing his muscles against the 9 ½ pounds of bird. Joyce slowly removed her hand until he was the only one supporting its weight. Scott was very thankful for his time in the gym, as the bird shifted. George’s amber eye studied Scott with an intensity Scott wasn’t expecting. Its head was held high, showing off its brilliant white feathers, and he had to admit he was in awe of the majestic creature. Gordon pulled out his phone and snapped a few shots. George must have considered Scott to be okay as the bird bent down and ripped the head off the chick. Gordon laughed and took more pictures of the bird eating. Once the chick was devoured Joyce took George from Scott.

“Can I hold him?” Gordon asked eagerly.

“Only adults can hold the large birds, but you can hold Ruby, our red-tailed hawk.”

There was a little disappointment from Gordon, but he accepted the hawk. Scott made sure to snap pictures every time Gordon held an animal so Dad, Grandma and Alan could see. He was sure Virgil and John will be shown the pictures whether they wanted to see them or not. After the aviary it was the reptile house. This started off fine, with beetles and cockroaches, and Gordon was okay around the snakes. However, the teen froze when they came face to face with the lizards. Scott could see his brother trembling and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Joyce thankfully picked up on Gordon’s change in mood, and only gave them a quick tour, naming the various species, before moving on to the amphibians, which were more to Gordon’s liking. This completed the tour, and they were taken to the staff room where lunch was laid out. Scott tucked in gratefully, while Gordon chatted with the keepers who were more than happy to share their knowledge and experience.

It was then time for Gordon to swim with the dolphins. Scott sat at the side of the pool, camera ready, as Gordon changed. The look on Gordon’s face when the first dolphin came up to him was priceless, and Scott had to admit he was enjoying seeing his younger brother so relaxed and in his element. Joyce sat beside Scott throughout the session, and they made pleasant small talk. She turned to him as Gordon waved goodbye to the dolphins.

“I need to go check up on some of the smaller animals, would you like to join me while Gordon changes and finishes up here with Martin?”

Scott glanced back at his brother. He was behaving himself, so he should be okay to leave him with Martin.

“I’d enjoy that.”

Scott followed Joyce back to the main building and was led down a corridor to one of the small mammal rooms. They hadn’t entered this one on the tour, so Scott was a little intrigued.

“We keep some of our nocturnal animals in this room.”

Joyce headed straight for metal cage, filled with ropes and soft pouches. It was so unlike the other cages they had seen, which contained habitats which mimicked the animal’s natural environment. This one appeared entirely man-made and artificial.

“I’ve built up quite the bond with two of the four sugar gliders we have here. They are all ex-pets that were abandoned and found in very poor condition. We use these guys to show what happens when you don’t give animals the right care.”

Scott stood back as Joyce opened the cage and picked out one of the pouches. She clutched the pouch carefully in her hands and brought it over to him. Scott put Joyce in her twenties, but her excited smile made her look younger. It was cute.

“This is Gadget and Gizmo.”

Two small faces peered up at him with the biggest eyes. Their eyes were so prominent but seemed to fit their little long faces. They both had a brown stripe that went over their head and down their face to their pink whiskered noses. A lopsided smile came to his face as Scott peered at the small creatures.

“These guys are brothers. The other two, Attenborough and Grylls, are the original two. Attenborough, Atty as we call him, is eleven years old, his mate Elisa passed away two years ago. So, when Grylls needed rescuing we tried putting them together and they got on, despite the fact that we think Grylls is only four years old. We only got these two last year, they were malnourished and are small for their age. They’ve been thriving since though. Hold out your arm and we see if they like you.”

Scott didn’t quite know what to expect but tentatively held out his arm. Joyce held the pouch to his wrist and gently squeezed the bottom. Suddenly a little creature jumped onto his sleeve. It was so small, its tail wrapping around his arm for security. The stripe on this one’s head continued down its back, fading into the paler fur. Scott could feel the sharp claws through the fabric of his shirt.

“That’s Gizmo.”

Gizmo suddenly climbed up Scott’s arm and paused on his shoulder. He couldn’t help but laugh. Who’d have thought he’d end up with a little glider on his shoulder! He turned and glanced at the mammal. He could almost feel its fur against his chin, it was so close to his face. As he studied Gizmo, Scott felt a weight and more claws in his arm. Obviously, Gadget didn’t want to stay in the pouch alone. A glance at his wrist and there was the other sugar glider, the same size but with a slightly different pattern to Gizmo. Scott held still, not knowing how to react to the small creatures. Could you stroke them? Or did they just sit there.

“Looks like they like you.” Joyce smiled. She came closer, a mealworm in her fingers. “Good boy, Gizmo.”

She offered the glider the mealworm, which it took in its small hands. It greedily ate it up, small flakes of the worm falling into his shirt. The claws that clasped the worm were so long that Scott wasn’t surprised he could feel them through the fabric of his shirt. A mealworm was given to Gadget, who made the same mess. While Scott was admiring Gizmo, the sugar glider decided to move. It darted behind Scott, climbing along his back. As Gizmo hung off Scott’s back Gadget clambered up his arm and climbed along his front. The sugar glider paused on his left pocket, one of his hands on the edge. Scott could imagine the glider looked like a living emblem from the front. Gadget then stuck his head in the pocket, before deciding it was safe and clambering in. Scott felt the little warm body shifting against his chest. Peering down, the little head looked up at him. Gadget appeared to be quite content in there.

Joyce had turned to Gizmo and Gadget’s cage, replacing food and doing some spot cleaning, so hadn’t seen Gadget’s antics. Scott watched as she moved to another cage while Gizmo moved across his back to his other shoulder. It hadn’t registered that he was still holding his arm out stiffly. Scott turned back to Gizmo only to be met with a close up of his furry behind and tail. Scott heard the click of a cage door from where Joyce was, however before he could turn his head, Gizmo jumped from his shoulder. Shocked, Scott turned, scared that he was about to lose the little creature. The sugar glider, however, was perfectly happy, clinging to the bars of another cage. Scott watched, still panicking, as the glider quickly climbed along and up the cage. Without knowing quite what to do, Scott cupped his hands together and tried to grab it. His hands clasped around its small body, only for it to slip through his fingers and clamber away. He kept at it, with each attempt failing, until he heard a chuckle from behind him. He froze, before twisting on the spot. The worry in him dissipated at the sight of Joyce laughing. There was a sugar glider clinging to her chest, while another looked on from the cage behind her.

“It’s okay, Scott. They will jump from cage to cage. They can’t get out the room and should be perfectly safe.”

Scot chuckled, and as if to prove a point, Gizmo jumped onto his head. The claws dug into his scalp as the glider moved to the top of his head. Scott winced a little, then sighed. The creature would have messed his hair up. Joyce was chortling now but managed to whip out her phone and point it at him.

“These guys are okay with hair gel, right?” Scott questioned, suddenly aware of how much he had massaged into his hair that morning. He’d hate the poor thing to get sick because it chose the wring head to jump on.

“I’ll give him a quick wipe over.”

Joyce came over and retrieved Gizmo. She took a cloth from the side, and gave him a quick rub down, causing a round of barks from the animal. Joyce let Gizmo cling to her, before she scooped up one of the others and placed him on Scott.

“This is Atty.”

Atty was a darker brown than the brothers and seemed quite happy to just hang from Scott. As he was admiring Atty, another glider jumped onto his arm and quickly ran up to his shoulder.

“That one is Grylls.”

Grylls didn’t stay on Scott’s shoulder for long, with Scott only just catching a glimpse of a tail, before feeling the glider climb down his back. He could feel the glider swinging against his back, on the edge of his shirt. Again, Scott was worried about the little guy falling, however, he soon felt Grylls climb back up before jumping onto the cage behind him. It was an odd feeling, the way the pressure on his back increased before the jump, then was gone suddenly. Scott peered over his shoulder in time to see Grylls jump to the next cage along. Joyce was quickly behind him, pouch in hand, and managed to coax him back into it.

“I think we’d better put these guys away and go find your brother.”

Joyce held the pouch containing Grylls up to Attenborough, who happily jumped into it, and snuggled up with the younger glider. They were put back in their cage. A small chase occurred with Gizmo, who was now climbing all over his own cage, but soon he too was safely back in his pouch. The last one left was Gadget. Scott peeked into his pocket and smiled at creature who still looked very content.

“Now, where did Gadget go?”

As if he knew he was being called, Gadget wiggled and poked his head out Scott’s pocket.

“Now that’s cute!” Joyce smile, retrieving her phone again and snapping a picture. “Mind if I use these for a presentation, I’m doing it in two weeks’ time? Also, what’s you email so I can forward them to you?”

“Sure.” Scott rattled off his email and Joyce put it in her phone, before offering the pouch to Gadget who happily joined his brother. The pouch was hung back in the cage and they left them to sleep. Scott followed Joyce back out of the main building and down the path towards the dolphin enclosure. They hadn’t got very far before a familiar voice called out.

“Scott! Scott! Look what I’ve got!”

Scott turned to his brother, who was grinning from ear to ear, and them followed the lead he was holding. At the end of the lead was a white fluffy three-legged animal, but it wasn’t a dog. A quizzical look crossed Scott’s face.

“That’s Miyuki, our Arctic fox. She had a broken leg that got infected. We had to amputate it, but she’s more than capable without it.”

“Isn’t she great, Scott? I’m walking a fox!”

Scott laughed and took a photo. Dad had been right when he told Scott that he was going to enjoy himself. Getting out with Gordon may not be on the top of Scott’s to do list, but this had been worth in. He swiped his message tab, located the email, and saved the photos. A smile crossed his face at the sight of Gizmo in his head. Walking to stand beside Gordon, Scott held out his phone for Gordon to see.

“I made friends with Gizmo.”

Gordon’s laugh filled the air and Scott couldn’t stop himself from joining in.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2004 #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds tos #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #EasterTAG #submission

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zaethro · 5 years

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Midwest Furfest 2018 Straw Poll

This is not science. I counted people’s hands in a video, rapidly, without double checking. The population sample was not randomized and changed throughout the polling. I did not re-ask questions after clarifying. None of this should be taken at face value as factual. Furscience.org does an okay job with demography. Ask them if you have real questions about furs. I’m here to yell at 30 people in a room and pass out napkins.

Every once in a while, I decide to host a panel at a fur convention just to shake up the basic attendee routine for myself. This year I submitted four panels to the Midwest Furfest programming team. This is the one panel they accepted, passing on an African Wild Dog meetup (unforgivable), a discussion of amorphous sexual identity (slightly more forgivable), and an ersatz talk show on furry political drama (submitted mostly to see where they draw the line). It was tempting to just mash those other topics into one power hour but, as a self-respecting pseudoscientist, I instead performed the task proposed. Here are the results.

20 to 30 people found their way to the bottom floor of the Hyatt Regency O’Hare, walked through a door marked “Tech Center”, hung a right past a water cooler, then sat down in one of four stair-stepped rows of mesh back chairs. I didn’t check ID’s, so it’s entirely possible none of them were here for the convention but instead arrived in this room by random chance. 5 minutes past the hour, I instructed those present that this was the Straw Poll panel: that I would make statements and then raise my hand, at which time they would decide whether to raise their own hands in agreement. For example:

Each participant was also greeted with an unmarked Paw Patrol napkin. As a method of free response, I asked them to please write or draw something on it with the provided Sharpies. These are the results.

Analysis

Two goats: one lovingly rendered in profile, the other spelled out with descriptive adjectives (“GAY”, “Trans”). Combined with a small horse what appears to be a llama-class creature to my eye, this is a grand total of 4 ungulates. As with last time, a lot of gay self-identification as well as one entreaty to be gay. I was once again accused of looking like Owen Wilson. One person appears to have written their full actual name on the napkin, though this could be a head fake. I see only one “““mature””” drawing in the bunch: a relatively tamely proportioned sheath with “Sheathes 4 Lyfe” written next to it. Whether this is a lifelong passion for the writer or a characteristic of sheathes themselves is unclear. Two people drew ASCII emoji’s (“OwO” and “¯\_(ツ)_/¯ “), a direct breach of the internet/real-life barrier that spells doom for us all. One fish. Significant amounts of overlayering on the Paw Patrol graphics: black eyes, two cat faces, an eyepatch, a pig snout, a spinoff series called Mow Patrol. This kind of additive creativity pervades our now meme-governed culture. More will be added here as new patterns emerge.

Fistbumps

Everyone was asked to turn to the person next to them and perform a fist bump. Several styles were observed:

The Bread Loaf scale

In the interest of expanding the purview of science, the Machination Log implemented an experimental bread loaf scale for certain items. Participants were asked to raise their hand when the number of slices raised corresponded to their level of identification. The operational variable in this case was Brownberry Premium Italian.

7 of 27 participants claim to have experienced a phantom limb. 2 claimed to feel 3 or more; both believe this has improved their lives.

7 out of 26 consider themselves to be “on the spectrum”.

9 out of 26, after a lot of drawn out “ehhhhhhh”s considered themselves to be sexual deviants (the term was deliberately not defined).

16 out of 26 like to pet people who are dressed up like animals.

19 out of 26 like to be pet by people who are dressed up like animals.

The farthest flung attendee in the room was from Los Angeles. The closest were two people who both drove 40 minutes to get to the hotel; they didn’t claim to know each other.

12 out of 28 “Pokemon Go’d to the polls in 2018”.

The participant with the coolest pet in the room had a sugar glider. They also had a variety of other animals including guinea pigs and hamsters.

15 out of 26 have considered moving to a reclusive commune consisting entirely of furries or other kindred folk.

It took 11 out of 26 longer to get their badge than it did to commute to the con itself. In case you weren’t there, this picture of one half of the registration line should help explain the query:

Applause scale

For this section, we have an audio clip documenting audience enthusiasm for a variety of subjects. They include Kirby, Incineroar, bagels, representative democracy, Spanish nationalism, curling, the live-action remake of Cowboy Bebop on Netflix, Neon Genesis Evangelion on Netflix, Jib Kodi, dogs, cats, bread, ears, tails, haunches, snoots, paws, and maws. Feedback for this section is subjective, so we recommend auditors take a listen and come to their own conclusions. (If I find my drawings of paws and maws and such I’ll post them here; not sure where they wandered off to).

So, what did we learn? What practical lesson can we take away from the science?

Consumption-based trends in the fur community don’t last very long. Bronies were absolutely a thing in 2015 and not one walked in the room this time. We are a self-determining style of folk.

Fist bumps have a serious diversity crisis, with most participants not even bothering to “spice it up” with an exit strategy. The data recommends a 6-month re-education boot camp on the subject for all Americans.

Bread is a more contentious and confusing grading scale than anticipated, despite audience enthusiasm for the substance itself.

For a community that isn’t directly about being gay, furs remain—on balance—pretty gay.

Brown liquor was the most popular alcohol by a slim margin. Twice as many people would consume decaf coffee as dirt, despite those being the same thing.

Twice as many people prefer the bottom half of their fursona to the top half. This will require some additional exploration in a future installment.

Everyone is bad at high fives sometimes.

Furry art and furry pornography are not seen as overlapping magisteria and more people considered themselves well-versed in the latter than the former.

Paws are better than maws. We already knew this to be true going in, but replicability is important.

Naps are great and no one takes enough of them.

Until next year, or whenever.

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sgtpenny · 6 years

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Everything will be OK.

Alright lovelies. Here is my first story on Tumblr! This request came from a nonnie, so thank you for the request! This was not proof read by anyone, so all mistakes are mine and please forgive them. Its been a while since I have written anything so constructive criticism is welcomed! :)

Pairing: Reader and Sebastian Stan

Summary: Sebastian helps his wife through postpartum depression the only way he knows how.

Warnings: Some depression, fluff, and maaaaybe some smut if you squint. I don’t really consider it smut... more like... husband!Seb being touchy feely but not in a sexual way.

This was not how it was supposed to be.

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

This is what they told to me to do. My doctors. I am to take deep breaths and relax because everything was going to be OK… but I fear it isn’t. My anxiety… its getting the best of me, again.

New York is so… so beautiful at night, and I am unable to revel in its beauty at this time, because it is 9 o’clock at night and I just put my new born down to sleep 30 minutes ago. I sit alone in the nursery with her, and close my eyes. The dim light from her night light shines dimly through my eyes lids, as I imagine New York—its alive, as I hear the distant car horns honking and the street rumbling from the people going about their nightlife. My husband and I used to be part of this night life…

My beautiful daughter, who is just barely 12 weeks old, sleeps soundly and making the slightest gurgle noises and I snap my eyes open fearing she had awoken for the 3rd time tonight. As I stare at her my eyes swell with tears of happiness… but also with sadness.

“Ahem,” a deep voice pulls me from my chaotic thoughts. That voice. It sent shivers up my spine. That voice that has brought me so much happiness, and has made me feel so comfortable and secure has come to rescue me again. A small smile tugs at my lips as strong warm hands grip my shoulders and giving a gentle squeeze, “I think she is out darlin’… please come lay down with me,” his whiskey deep voice coaxed.

“Make sure the baby monitor is on,” I mumbled weakly.

He reached out to grasp my hand and gave a short nod, “I already did,” as he helped me up out of the glider chair. A warm hand is placed on my lower back, guiding me out of our infant’s room, and I feel numb.

Shuffling into our shared bedroom, my husband gently hooks his fingers in the back of my yoga pants to stop me from walking to our bed. His warm, slightly calloused fingers begin to gently tickle my sides as he slowly lifts my shirt.

“Sebastian… I’m not in the mood,” I whimper pathetically. All I want to do it lay down. Face first. In our deliciously soft bed. And sleep for 5 years.

“Sshhh…” Sebastian coo’s gently in my ear making me shiver slightly. I can feel his beard tickle me, as he places a gently kiss on my ear lobe. He continues to lift the fabric of my shirt, and I instinctively raise my arms, as he discards the clothing somewhere on the floor. I feel him engulf me as his arms slide around my sides to my soft front, and he pulls me to his chest. He breathes gently in my ear, and a tilt my head giving him access. I feel his plump lips smile softly, as he kisses a trail from my ear to my shoulder.

“I just want to hold you.” Sebastian mumbles, “You seem so…” and he trails off, giving my mid-section a gentle squeeze, “Sad.” He finishes in a whisper. I close my eyes and place my hands on top of his and give a gentle squeeze, tears pricking my eyes.

“I’m just… tired” I whisper back, letting go of one of his hands to card my fingers through his short brown locks. After standing contently holding each other for a couple minutes he lets go of my waist, and I feel his fingers trace the hem of my yoga pants beginning to pull them down. He gives one last kiss to my shoulder and steps away from me, helping me out of my pants. I stand with my back to him, only in my panties, and I feel his hands on my soft sides again, “You are so beautiful doll,” Sebastian says with confidence, and gives my bum a playful squeeze, ordering me to get into bed.

He discards his own clothing, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs, and crawls onto the vacant spot next to me. I stare at his chest as he gets comfortable, muscles shifting under soft skin, and he pulls me closer to his chest—cradling me. I bury my face against his chest, and wrap my arm around his mid-section. I take a small inhale and smell faint cologne and his normal musk, and I smile. I feel Sebastian push one of his legs in-between mine making us impossibly closer.

“Will you talk to me,” my husband whispers, as I feel his fingers card through my hair lovingly.

I inhale softly, and breathe out slowly.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling Sebastian. I feel… numb,” I pause. “I feel anxious, tired, empty, sad, but yet…” I pause again, tears swelling my eyes again, “Happy… and excited. I don’t like this feeling… its too many… feelings.” I pout and squeeze his mid-section harder, which made my husband of 2 years kiss my forehead.

“Darlin’… this feeling will pass. This postpartum depression business doesn’t last forever – You have me.” He says the last bit in a sing song voice, and I smile. He’s always trying to make light of situations, and I have always loved and envied him for that.

“What if she doesn’t like me. I’m the mom… no one ever likes the moms. Moms mean business, and dads are the fun ones-,” He cuts me off. “What!?” He giggles and moves his hand out of my hair and down my side, resting on my hip.

“Where in the world did you hear that from?” he smiles, giving my hip a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

“Well… I-you know…” I trail off, not knowing where I got that stupid idea from.

“Sugar,” He starts with a warm smile. “Everything will be OK. My mom is one of my best friends, and I never looked at her as ‘business’ when I was growing up. She was an awesome mom,” He states using bunny fingers for the word ‘business’. “You told me that your mom was pretty rad too” he continued, and I nodded. “Yea...” I trailed off in thought, and smiled. My mom was pretty rad when I was growing up, mostly because she was a young mom, and she continues to be the most loving and awesome mom.

“I think…” He continued, breaking my thoughts, “You have been watching too many weird movies, and listening to your weird friends too much” He whispers, trailing his hand slowly up my exposed back, gently ticking me and making me shiver against him. He hummed gently and hiked his leg further between my legs, his thick thigh pressing against my core and making me hook my leg loosely around his waist.

“I’ll call my therapist tomorrow morning. Hopefully we can get a recommendation on a therapist for PPD, and I will go to therapy with you if you want.” He states lovingly, which once again makes my eyes swell.

Damnit eyes. Make up your mind.

“I cancelled most of my schedule so I can be here with you. Be here for us… my family.” He whispers, and trails his hand to the base of my neck to pull me in for a gentle kiss. His lips are warm, and oh so soft as we mold together, and I smile slightly.

I broke the kiss and whispered against his lips, “I love you Sebastian. Thank you.”

“Anything for you my love.” Sebastian whispers back, and closing the gap between our lips once again.

For the first time in 3 months… I feel everything will finally be OK.

Fin!

Thank you very much for reading. I hope it was what you expected nonnie!

Once again, constructive criticism is welcomed, and if anyone has more request send them in :)

#sebastian stan #penny writes #marvel #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan smut #reader #reader and sebastian #husband!seb #writer #fanfiction #reader x sebastian

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