#her poofy hair!!! the hearts in her eyes!!!!!!!! her little nose

[goodfellowe]

OH SHES SO CUTE… the little dinky!!!! i adore her so much 😭💚

Yeah I'm not tagging anyone, if this reaches its target audience it reaches it naturally<3

[kallie-den]

Cerulean

A recent escapee attends a support group for victims of evil mind control… run by the strange, sinister and inimitable Dr. Amaranth Cerulean

Special thanks to @dollzcomix for this commission, and for allowing me to write about Dr. Cerulean! They are a character of Demoiselle Porcelaine's creation, and I highly encourage you to check out her socials for all of her wonderful artwork of Dr. Cerulean - who truly is inimitable, and whose creator brings across their unique charm better than I ever could

If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Patreon!  For less than the price of a cup of coffee each month, you can get immediate, early access to everything I write - 4 pieces of hypno-smut a  month, including the latest chapters of all the multi-chapter stories I write. Your support helps me keep writing and is greatly appreciated <3

---

The support group was nice… kind of. In theory. It had sounded nice, anyway, when Mariah had found out about it online. A pop-up ad, of all things, accompanied by a garish animation and a picture of the strange-looking psychiatrist who ran it, and written all in lower-case: ‘villain hypnosis victim support group’. Obviously, Mariah’s first instinct had been to dismiss it as some kind of weird internet con, but then she’d had second thoughts. Was there really a support group for people who’d been through what she had? Could other people actually understand the way she was feeling? If so, wasn’t that worth taking a chance on?

That was how she’d ended up in an untidy, rented office space on the side of the highway after dark.

It both was and wasn’t the kind of atmosphere Mariah had expected. A bunch of chairs set out in a circle. People sitting on them, sharing their stories. Strung up on one wall was a big banner that read ‘Mind Control and What Comes After: A Support Group to Find Yourself Again After Being Brainwashed’ in brightly colored but slightly faded letters. Mariah appreciated the stab at an upbeat atmosphere, but the attendeess simply weren’t up to the task.

They all just seemed so completely and utterly harrowed. Mariah sympathized, of course. She knew the ashamed, traumatized, hollowed-out look on each of their faces all too well. She saw in the mirror every morning. But she’d been hoping to see something a little more encouraging, too. Healing. Solidarity. Catharsis. On TV and in movies, support groups always involved people pouring out their hearts, breaking down, embracing one another. Making breakthroughs and overcoming their issues.

Mariah hadn’t expected the real thing to be quite so dramatic, but she’d been looking for more than a sequence of interminable recountings of horrors and violations. Each one seemed to conjure the awfulness of the past back into the present and leave the recounter shriveled and trembling. It was like the support group was making the attendees lesser, not greater. Mariah wasn’t sure she could see any signs of healing at all, or even of people finding solidarity in their brokenness. It was all just miserable.

The only person who seemed like they were having a good time was the psychiatrist running the thing.

Dr. Amaranth Cerulean, they/she.

They looked just as weird in person as they had on their advert. Dr. Cerulean was deathly pale, with big, tired, dark-circled eyes and unusual, light blue markings beneath them, as well as on her lips. It was a strange and striking look, especially along with their prominent nose and the short but poofy, voluminous hair piled up in rounded masses on their head. The shrink wore a gray cardigan over a ribbed, mustard yellow turtleneck sweater which was tucked into the belted waist of their brown slacks. It was an outfit from a different decade. Mariah just wasn’t quite sure which one.

In a way, it wasn’t surprising that a support group like this would be run by an eccentric. Mariah wasn’t one to judge. Dr. Cerulean’s demeanor, though, was a little unnerving. Throughout most of the session, Dr. Cerulean sat on her chair at the head of the group, in a completely slack, slouched pose that registered nothing but complete disinterest. They barely spoke, and only to indicate who should speak next. Certainly not to provide any advice or support. They had a pen and a pad of paper, from the way their hand moved while they were writing on it, Mariah felt certain they were mostly just idly doodling.

Every now and then, however, something would catch their attention. Occasionally—and only when somebody was sharing a particularly lurid, uncomfortable and traumatic part of their experience of being mind controlled—Dr. Cerulean would throw their entire body forward and sit perched so perilously close to their edge of their chair, Mariah feared they were about to topple from it. They would scratch at their notepad in a frenzy, and those big, tired eyes certainly became laser-focused and eager. Whenever that happened, a truly ghastly smile descended on their face. Not warm, not supportive, just pleased. Smug. Grateful, even, like they were thankful someone had stepped up to deliver them from boredom.

And from the slight twitch in their cheek, Mariah couldn’t help but suspect Dr. Cerulean was struggling to keep themself from laughing.

Dr. Cerulean’s presence made the entire support group feel uncomfortably voyeuristic, somehow. When it came to be Mariah’s turn, she kept it to a bare minimum. She introduced herself and made a few oblique references to what had happened to her, but completely glossed over the details. She figured that was pretty normal for a first-timer—and besides, it was difficult to speak with Dr. Cerulean looking at her like she was a fresh-cooked meal placed on their table.

Mariah decided right then and there—there wasn’t going to be a second time. She just didn’t feel comfortable here. It wasn’t the kind of support group she was looking for.

She stuck it out to the end, though—mostly because leaving halfway through seemed much too awkward. Once they wrapped up, before Mariah could slip out quietly, she found that Dr. Cerulean was suddenly between her and the door, and staring at her with an expectant look on their ghoulish face.

“H-Hi,” Mariah said, mostly because she felt like she had to. “Um… thanks for the session.”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” Dr. Cerulean sounded every bit as tired and seedy as they looked. “Thank you for coming. Really. We love a newcomer.”

“Yeah…” Mariah had no idea what to say to that. “Well, I was actually just-���

“Good news!” Dr. Cerulean interrupted suddenly, in a lazy, drawling voice. “You’re actually our one-hundredth member. That means you win a free one-on-one session with yours truly.”

Finger guns.

---

Hell no.

That had been Mariah’s initial response. The easiest ‘nope’ of her life. She’d politely declined, and privately resolved to never set foot in Dr. Cerulean’s support group again.

Then she’d gone home, gone to bed, and had the nightmares again.

It was nothing new. They came for Mariah most nights. But it meant another eight-hour torture session inside her own head, tossing and turning, fighting off both gut-wrenching guilt and poisonous allure. In the cold light of dawn, Mariah had felt worse than ever—and taking up Dr. Cerulean on her offer hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea after all. It had been easy to tell herself that it hadn’t really been that bad after all. Sure, Dr. Cerulean was a bit eccentric, but what had Mariah expected from somebody running a support group for mind control victims? It wasn’t like they’d done anything wrong, exactly.

More importantly, Mariah needed the help. Desperately. She couldn’t keep going on like this. That was why she’d gone to the support group in the first place. She needed to talk to somebody. Didn’t she owe it to herself to push herself? To take every chance? Mariah kept thinking about the kind of stuff she’d read online. Recovery wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always comfortable. You had to push yourself.

Mariah had decided that she wanted to push herself.

Besides, it was just talking. In the end, that was what clinched it for her. All they were going to do was sit in a room and talk. If it was good, great. If it was bad, it would be a waste of time—but at least Mariah could tell herself she had given it a fair shot.

Basically: what was the worst that could happen?

That was how, the very next afternoon, Mariah found herself in Dr. Cerulean’s office, trying to distract herself from her anxiety by carefully inspecting the weird pineapple lamp on Dr. Cerulean’s desk. Dressed exactly as they had been the day before, the psychiatrist regarded Mariah with a bland smile on their blue lips as they invited her to sit down opposite them.

“So, um,” Mariah said, shifting uncomfortably. “How do we get started?”

“First things first,” Dr. Cerulean told her, “I have a few release forms for you to sign. Standard stuff, really. No need to read them too carefully.”

They handed Mariah a small stack of papers. Cautiously, Mariah started scanning the first. It seemed, as promised, entirely standard. Non-disclosure, liability, that kind of thing. After signing it, she moved on to the second, then the third, and quickly stopped bothering to read much of the legal jargon. On the very last form, though, something caught her eye.

“Wait a minute,” Mariah said. “This is a release authorizing you to… write online fiction about me?”

Quickly, Dr. Cerulean reached over the deck and snatched away the piece of paper. “Oops,” she replied languidly. “Bit of a mix-up. My mistake. Don’t worry about it. You can sign that one later.”

Later? Mariah frowned. Was that some kind of joke? It had to be. Dr. Cerulean certainly looked like they were finding humor in something—but it was in seriously poor taste.

“There we go.” Dr. Cerulean stretched one of their long arms across to retrieve the other release forms. They sat back in their chair and regarded Mariah carefully. “To begin with, why don’t you just tell me what brought you to the support group?”

Again, Mariah considered refusing. Again, she reminded herself: she needed to give this a shot.

“I… I just feel like I can’t move forward,” Mariah began slowly. She fixed her eyes on the floor, hoping that would be less awkward. “You know? I see all these people going about their daily lives. Pursuing careers. Pursuing other people. Pursuing happiness. And it just seems completely impossible to me. Like I can’t even fathom it—even though I used to be just like them. I can ever remember her—that old version of me. The one who wasn’t… who wasn’t broken. I want to be her again so bad. I just… can’t remember how.”

She looked up. Mariah’s voice was already a little choked up from the emotions she was describing. She was hoping, perhaps, for a kind word or a kind smile.

Instead, Dr. Cerulean wasn’t even looking at her. They had a pencil in their hand, and they were trying to spin it cleanly on the joint between their thumb and their hand. After a particularly vigorous spin, it slipped away from them and clattered against the top of the desk.

“Dr. Cerulean?” Mariah ventured plaintively.

Dr. Cerulean let out a breath that was very close to a sigh, and then their brow twitched in a way that made Mariah think, just for a moment, that they were going to roll their eyes. Then, though, a smile—only a little forced—came to Dr. Cerulean’s blue lips.

“Why don’t we start at the beginning?” Dr. Cerulean suggested. “What actually happened to you?”

“Oh. Right.” That made sense to Mariah, even if she wished Dr. Cerulean sounded a little more patient about it. She gathered her courage. Talking about what had befallen her didn’t come easy. “A couple of years ago, I-I was in a relationship. With a guy. Robert. We were engaged, I actually. I thought we were going to spend our entire lives together.”

“Uh-huh.” The look of boredom still hadn’t disappeared from Dr. Cerulean’s face.

“I had recently started a new job,” Mariah recounted, voice trembling. “As a PA—a personal assistant. I spoke to my boss about taking some time off for the wedding. Mrs. Lawrence. She, um, didn’t like that idea. She’d always been kind of… controlling, I guess. A… a bully.” She struggled to say it, even though it was true. “She told me she required my services. Didn’t want me to focus on the needs of anyone besides her.”

“Oh?” Those big, sunken eyes on Dr. Cerulean’s face were starting to perk up a little. “What then?”

“I threatened to quit.” Mariah squeezed her eyes tight shut. “So she mind-controlled me.”

Mariah heard a small, wet sound from a short distance away. When she opened her eyes, Dr. Cerulean’s lips were damp, and they had taken up their notepad.

“Tell me more about that,” the psychiatrist prompted.

“She started taking over every aspect of my life,” Mariah whispered. “The way I looked, talked, dressed, and how-“

“No, no,” Dr. Cerulean interrupted eagerly, waving a hand. “How did she mind control you?”

“Um.” Mariah was taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, is she a psychic?” Dr. Cerulean raised a hand and started counting methods on her fingers. “Psychoactive spores? Big ray gun? Good ‘ol hypnotist? Some kind of succubus?”

“She, um,” Mariah replied slowly. “She had one of those… toys on her desk. You know, with the row of balls hanging on strings?”

“A Newton’s cradle!” For the first time, Dr. Cerulean sounded faintly delighted. “Hold on.”

Dr. Cerulean reached under their desk and started rummaging around in a box that seemed to contain a truly preposterous quantity and variety of strange objects. Mariah watched, confused then horrified, as Dr. Cerulean plucked out one of them and set it upon their desk.

It was a Newton’s cradle.

“Um…” Mariah was transfixed by the object. “That’s… c-can you…”

Dr. Cerulean took one of the metal balls between their thumb and forefinger, lifted it, and let it swing.

The metallic tap as it hit against the next reverberated through Mariah’s entire being.

“D-Dr. Cerulean,” Mariah stammered. She was hot and cold. She could feel herself sweating. She could feel herself sinking. “C-c-could you p-put that away, p-please?”

“What, this?” Dr. Cerulean seemed faintly surprised as they leaned back easily in their chair. “But it’s just a little toy.”

“But…” Mariah was about to say something else, but the tapping of the Newton’s cradle broke about her words before they could form. She was left blubbering the word over stupidly. “B-but…”

“Mariah,” Dr. Cerulean tutted. “It’s important for you to understand that this is just a commonplace object. It’s acquired a certain psychological character in your mind as a trigger, but that’s something that you’re imbuing onto the world. Aren’t you afraid that you’re just reinforcing the scars of your own trauma? We need to push past our fears. If you continue to treat this toy with significance, it will become more and more significant to you.”

Dr. Cerulean sounded every bit the consummate professional as they rattled off the argument in their quick but monotonous voice. The words crested over Mariah like a wave. She had no rebuttal. Dr. Cerulean was the psychiatrist, after all.

And Mariah really, really couldn’t think straight with the Newton’s cradle tap, tap, tapping away on the desk.

“OK,” she said quietly, eventually.

“Very good.” Beyond the Newton’s cradle, Mariah could see a smile forming on Dr. Cerulean’s face. “Desensitization through exposure therapy is a key element of recovery. Go on.”

“Go… on?” Exposure therapy? Mariah still couldn’t look away from the Newton’s cradle. She couldn’t stop shaking. But if it was part of her recovery…

“Tell me what your boss did to you.”

“Mrs. Lawrence,” Mariah said slowly, “made me break up with my boyfriend.”

As they took notes, Dr. Cerulean made a little noise that might have been the beginnings of a laugh. “Of course.”

“B-but it’s more than that.” Mariah wasn’t sure that she wanted to talk about it, really. But she had no choice. It just came out of her—because she was looking at the Newton’s cradle, and Dr. Cerulean was telling her to speak. “She… s-she made…” Her voice broke. “She made me g-gay.”

Abruptly, Dr. Cerulean sat forward. For the first time, Mariah felt the full weight of the psychiatrist’s attention.

“Oh wow,” Dr. Cerulean remarked, with an ominous delight they slowly brought back under wraps. “That’s… really something. How did that go?”

“It’s awful,” Mariah moaned. “It’s not… I’m s-straight. I’ve always been straight. But when I looked at her—when I look at other women—I can’t help but feel it. And it feels so… so dirty.”

“Of course,” Dr. Cerulean agreed, scribbling at their notepad. “Something as fundamental as your sexuality has been made completely alienating to you.” They sat forward, leering. “It must be maddening. Feeling like your desire and your memory are at war. Not knowing which one you can trust. Not knowing which one is really you.”

Mariah nodded slowly. It was exactly like that. She was so glad Dr. Cerulean understood—but at the same time, hearing it said out loud with such bluntness felt awful.

“Tell me more,” the psychiatrist beckoned. “Tell me everything.”

Mariah’s vision was starting to narrow. She made one great effort to tear her attention away from the Newton’s cradle—and couldn’t. She could feel herself losing focus. Losing wakefulness. It was just the way it had been back then. Her shaking worsened, but it wasn’t enough to jostle her from trance’s reaching fingertips.

“I… I…” Dr. Cerulean’s words conjured the very deepest, most awful truths from Mariah’s drowning mind. “I tried… to go back to him, after they arrested her. I knew she’d get out on bail, but it gave me enough time to c-come back to my senses. I went back to him, but… b-but I just couldn’t stand it. I c-couldn’t look at him the same. And when he touched me, I…”

There was a loud noise as Dr. Cerulean slapped their thigh. Mariah jumped, but even that wasn’t enough to break her focus.

“Wait, you tried to go straight back to your old life?” they wheezed. “Wow, yeah, no, don’t do that! You didn’t give yourself any breathing room. No time to process what had happened to you. You tried to force yourself back into an old groove, and then when you couldn’t, I bet you felt more broken than ever! Rookie mistake, seriously.”

Dr. Cerulean’s barely disguised amusement bothered Mariah, but not as much as it should have. She simply couldn’t think straight. Each loud tap as one of the balls of the Newton’s cradle impacted against its neighbor was overwhelming. As much as she wanted to get up and leave, Mariah’s legs wouldn’t obey her. The most she could do was point at the Newton’s cradle with a weak, trembling hand.

“Please,” she blubbered. “P-p-please make it stop. P-please. I can’t… I c-can’t…”

“Oops.” Beyond the cradle, Mariah could see that Dr. Cerulean’s tired, sunken eyes had become bright and leering. “Now you’re on the verge of a full-blown relapse, aren’t you? It looks like you really are that fragile. Well, it makes sense. Recounting your traumatic experiences while being exposed to an explicit reminder of your victimhood will do that to you. Not very recovered after all, huh?”

Mariah shook her head numbly as tears welled up in her eyes. She could see it so clearly now. She wasn’t recovered at all. She hadn’t moved forward even one inch since getting free. She was small. She was weak.

“Tell me,” Dr. Cerulean asked, “what are you so afraid of? You’re shaking like a leaf."

“I-I don’t want to hurt people again,” Mariah blurted out.

Dr. Cerulean set down their notepad and planted their hands on the desk, palms vertical, the tips of their fingertips pressed together. Mariah could feel those long fingers reaching into her. Peeling her open. Prying her secrets apart.

“Who did you hurt, Mariah?” Dr. Cerulean asked.

Mariah had never told anybody about that—but she couldn’t lie. Not here. Not now. Not with the Newton’s cradle. Mrs. Lawrence had always drilled that into her. Tell the truth.

“I h-helped her take other girls,” Mariah whispered. “Anybody who caught her eye. I m-made appointments with them. P-put things in their drinks. Sometimes she even m-made me hold them, so they’d keep looking at the…” She choked back a sob. “Mrs. Lawrence made me t-talk to them. Condition them. D-d-discipline them.”

“Fascinating,” Dr. Cerulean said softly. “You must feel so guilty.”

“Yes!” The word erupted out of Mariah. It was all she could think about, every hour of every day.

“Of course,” Dr. Cerulean agreed softly. “You feel as though you were forced, outside of your own control, to commit acts that horrify you and compromise your sense of self. I think it’s crucial that we begin to reframe this.”

Mariah nodded slowly. She could do nothing else.

“Did you know that-“ Dr. Cerulean interrupted herself with a kind of gleeful chuckle. “Did you know that you cannot be hypnotized into doing anything that you don’t want to do?”

“Um.” Mariah blinked and swayed unsteadily. “W-what?”

No. That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“Oh yes,” Dr. Cerulean insisted. “Hypnosis is just a little mind trick, really. It’s a way of lowering your inhibitions and suppressing your conscious mind, but do you really believe that it would make you a complete and total slave to whoever’s doing it to you? Lowering inhibitions simply implies the removal of a barrier to your true desires.”

“No.” Mariah shook her head violently. “N-no. No way. That’s… you’re…”

“Think about it,” Dr. Cerulean pressed, thin blue lips now stretched into a leering grin. “How did you feel when your boss used you sexually?”

Mariah flinched. “I-it felt good, but that’s only because she made-“

“Accepting our sexualities is often a battle,” Dr. Cerulean said agreeably. She made another note in her notepad. “How did you feel when you hurt those other women?”

“Please don’t make me say it,” Mariah begged, trembling. Dr. Cerulean just looked at her. “G-good. But that’s-“

“Of course.” The psychiatrist nodded. “Violence. Exercising power. It may be unpleasant, but it appeals to the baser parts of our natures. That’s a huge part of any form of so-called mind control. It provides a nice, convenient excuse for us to exercise desires we might normally feel the need to repress. And how about whenever you were ‘forced’ to obey your boss?”

Obey. That word lit a fuse in Mariah’s head.

“Obey,” she muttered. “Obey. O-obey. Obey. Obey. Obey.”

Normally, she was better than this. She could keep it under wraps. Not today. Not with the Newton’s cradle.

“A mantra!” Dr. Cerulean sounded pleased. “And so easy to trigger, too. This is good. Great, in fact. We’re making a lot of progress. I think we’re really starting to get to the root of your issues.”

“Obey.” Mariah kept repeating it under her breath. Each word gave rise to the next, unceasing, until her lungs were empty of air and she was shaking from the effort—but still, she kept going. “Obeyobeyobeyobeyobey.”

“Yes, yes, keep going,” Dr. Cerulean waved an idle hand in her direction. “Exposure therapy is a crucial tool. Remember what we were discussing earlier? You have to take back power from these things. You can’t keep making them special in your head. Repetition is a great way to do that.”

There was something soothing about hearing that. Mariah started easing into the mantra, letting her mind settle. She just needed to trust Dr. Cerulean. Her obedient liturgy was starting to make her feel calm again. Just like it always had with Mrs. Lawrence.

“Now, what was I saying?” Dr. Cerulean mused. “Oh, that’s right. Hypnosis. You really must consider what I’m saying. Perhaps the reason you’ve found all of this so difficult is that your boss was tapping into some of your deeply held repressed desires. Forcing you to confront them. Forcing you to accept the way they make you feel.”

“Obey,” Mariah panted. “Obey. Obey. Obey.”

“Obviously that’s just one way to conceptualize your experience,” Dr. Cerulean continued. “It might not sound right to you, but that’s where reframing comes in. At the end of the day, Mariah, you need to make a choice about what kind of narrative you want to fit onto your life. Ultimately, that’s all our egos amount to. They’re stories we tell about ourselves to find a semblance of security and comfort in our day-to-day lives. Which story flatters you the most? Which story brings you the most comfort? We need to help you answer that question so that you can find a degree of fulfillment.”

“Obey… obey… obey…” Mariah was slowing now, as the mantra drove all the way down to a deeper layer of hypnotism, leaving her in a place so dark and still even speaking was too much effort for her.

“Enough of that now,” Dr. Cerulean instructed dismissively. “You want control, don’t you Mariah? Think about it: which narrative makes you feel in control? Which one will help you reclaim your life?”

Mariah’s eyelids fluttered as she bent her mind to the question. When they were open, she could see Dr. Cerulean, lurking beyond the Newton’s cradle. When they were closed, she could see Mrs. Lawrence. Her boss. Her brainwasher. It was terrifying—but what if it didn’t have to be? Mariah could remember a time she hadn’t been scared. A time when she’d eagerly obeyed her boss with the eagerness of a docile lamb.

More than ever, she longed for it.

But… that was wrong, wasn’t it?

“I…” Mariah grasped. “No, I… I’m straight?”

Dr. Cerulean shook their head slowly. “You’re a little behind, Mariah. Remember. Narratives. Reframing. Are you really straight? Or is that simply what you’ve always believed? Many queer people suffer from a degree of internalized bigotry, and respond by desperately clinging to a veneer of heteronormativity. I promise you, Mariah. This room is a safe space. You can explore your feelings and desires here.”

Mariah’s mouth opened and closed uselessly. What Dr. Cerulean was telling her didn’t sound right—but then again, Mariah had no idea what would. And the pale psychiatrist sounded so expert. So sure.

“Let’s approach this on a more basic level,” Dr. Cerulean offered. “You need to relearn confidence in your basic drives. It’s important that you proceed without doubting yourself too much. I want you to accept yourself. To embrace your feelings. That’s the only way you can begin to heal. With that in mind, let me ask you: how do you feel about men?”

The Newton’s cradle was coming to rest, but that provided little comfort. As its motion slowed, Mariah felt her thoughts slowing along with it. She was swimming in trance. The word ‘obey’ was still echoing in her head. She couldn’t get beyond her first, strongest response.

“I c-can’t stand them,” she whimpered.

“Good,” Dr. Cerulean said poisonously. “I’m glad you can accept that about yourself. Now, how do you feel about women?”

“I… I…” That question triggered a sudden sunburst of emotion in Mariah’s head. Ideas, impulses, and beliefs all poured into her, each one pulled by a thread that was a memory or a sensation. They awakened something in her, something that burst past her lips in a wet, needy ejaculation. “I-I belong on my knees for women!”

“Another mantra?” Dr. Cerulean leered. “Interesting. It seems like we’re making a lot of progress here. As I told you, I want you to have confidence in your feelings and desires. So please, don’t stop yourself. Do whatever it is that feels most right to you. Whatever makes you feel comfortable in the moment.”

A great weight was pressing down on Mariah’s shoulders. Simply sitting in her chair felt so nauseatingly wrong, she couldn’t bear it. The only thing that seemed comfortable was slipping out of it, down onto her knees beneath Dr. Cerulean’s desk. The cold, uncomfortable floor welcomed her with the familiarity of a well-worn mattress.

“Fascinating,” Dr. Cerulean mused. “At the risk of moving a little too fast, perhaps we should try a little word association. That can be a very useful way to uncover the real roots of psychological issues. So, Mariah: you belong on your knees for women?”

Mariah choked back another sob as the words flowed out of her. “I b-belong on my knees for women. A good secretary’s place is under the desk. I l-love to be at women’s feet. I belong on my knees for… for women. A good secretary’s p-place is under the desk. I… I… hng… I love to be at women’s feet!”

Her stomach was a noxious cauldron. An iron pall of palpitating nausea sat inside her. The sense of anxious danger that had haunted her for months now was frothing like never before. But above it sat a thick, dense, smothering fog that whispered to her: this was all good. It was right. It was her place.

Mariah was trying to listen to the danger-sense. She was failing. It was too painful. She just wanted to stop thinking.

“It stands out to me that your set of associations ends with a reference to women’s bodies.” Mariah heard Dr. Cerulean’s voice from above, as the strange psychiatrist sat back calmly in their chair. That was another thing she was used to. “That may be the key to your desires, Mariah. Listen to them. Show me what comes next.”

As they spoke, Dr. Cerulean slowly slipped out of her shoes, using each one to pry the other off. Underneath, they were wearing a strange pair of pineapple socks; yellow and patterned on the lower part, and leaf-green around their ankles. Their socks, though, weren’t what had caught Mariah’s attention. She was distracted by the simple fact that she was in her place, under a desk, and an authoritative woman was looming over her with their feet dangling in her face.

Mariah followed her desires. She did what came naturally to her. With tears still in her eyes, lips still mouthing the words Mrs. Lawrence had imprinted on her mind, she reached out and began massaging Dr. Cerulean’s feet.

Dr. Cerulean let out a glib chuckle, then sighed contentedly. “Look at you now. You’re under the desk, repeating your mantras, looking for another woman’s feet to worship. A complete and total relapse! How unfortunate.”

“I… I… I-I…” Another sob threatened to rip loose from Mariah’s throat. She wanted to speak, to argue, to apologize, to beg, but she already knew that if she tried, the only thing that would come out was her boss’s mantra.

A relapse. It was the rock-bottom Mariah had been afraid of for so long. All the urges she had been fighting to hold in check were oozing out. She was on her knees again. She was languishing in the pit of her own awful, dirty, lustful feelings about women. It felt awful. It felt like home.

“I know, I know,” Dr. Cerulean agreed. “It’s tough. But what do I keep telling you about, Mariah? Reframing! It’s an essential tool. Consider: what if this isn’t relapsing? What if this is simply who you are?”

Whatever part of Mariah might have wanted to push back against that had been broken into silence. As Mariah trembled and sobbed and eagerly, expertly pushed her thumbs against the soles of Dr. Cerulean’s feet, it seemed impossible to deny. Wasn’t this who she was? Wasn’t what she was doing right now the proof?

“It’s up to you, of course,” Dr. Cerulean added. “This is all about your wellbeing, Mariah. You’re perfectly free to define the goals of your own therapy. The perspectives I’m offering you are nothing more than food for thought. So, what do you think?”

As she knelt there, Mariah thought about what it would mean if she insisted upon her need for recovery and healing. It would mean more months of therapy and counseling, of twitchiness and jitteriness, of viewing herself, first and foremost, as a victim. It would mean looking over her shoulder for Mrs. Lawrence everywhere she went, and constantly guilt and shame whenever she found herself glancing at another woman. It would mean perhaps years of slowly building herself back up so she could learn to trust again, so she could reclaim her sexuality on her own terms—hell, so she could even work in an office again.

It was too much.

Just like that, Mariah gave up.

“Y-you’re right, Dr. Cerulean.” Mariah’s voice was still trembling desperately, but as she spoke, a haunted grin came to her face. “T-thinking about how I really feel… I guess it’s o-obvious. I’m j-just a lesbian.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Cerulean remarked. They sounded like they were beginning to crack up laughing. “And all those things you did for your boss?”

Mariah let out a twitchy laugh too. “I j-just did those things for Mistress because I wanted to.”

“Very interesting. Even hurting those other women?”

The noise that erupted from Mariah’s throat was a sob and a laugh in equal measure. “Y… y-yes. That’s right. I w-w-wanted to.”

“My goodness,” Dr. Cerulean sounded like she was fighting to suppress a moan as Mariah gave in. “That’s quite the breakthrough.”

Mariah wanted to. She wanted to serve her boss because she was a submissive lesbian. She wanted to hurt other women for her mistress because it turned her on. It was that simple. She was that simple.

“Why don’t you sit back up here?” Dr. Cerulean suggested. “One question: what do you think about the way your boss hypnotized you?”

As Mariah came up from under the desk, she glanced at the Newton’s cradle sitting on the psychiatrist’s desk. It had long since come to rest, but the sight of it still made her stomach churn.

“M-Mistress knows what’s best for me,” Mariah bleated, forcing her nausea down. Forcing herself to fall back on what her boss had taught her. “Mistress thinks for me b-better than I can.”

Dr. Cerulean sat forward as they let out a great, wheezing chuckle. “Let me get this straight,” they said. “Do you imagine that your boss knew that you were a lesbian all along, and was simply pushing you to accept it?”

A tear trickled down Mariah’s cheek. “Y-y-yeah.” She made herself believe it.

“Wow,” Dr. Cerulean remarked, and shrugged. “Well, yeah, that certainly sounds plausible to me. No issues there. We discussed your internalized homophobia earlier. I suppose being forced to confront that must have caused a kind of backlash. Very unfortunate.”

“R-right.” Mariah sat bolt upright in the chair as she felt compulsion snap tight around her like a collar on her neck. “Oh my god. I n-need to go back to Mistress. I need to find her again.”

“Oh yes?” Dr. Cerulean leaned forward intently. “And why’s that?”

Mariah’s happy, grateful smile was so wide. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t seem to stop crying. “I need to apologize. I need to b-b-beg for her forgiveness.”

Tears were welling up in Dr. Cerulean’s eyes too—but only because they were fighting so hard to keep a tight rein on their mirth. “That sounds great!” the psychiatrist agreed. “Rebuilding the bridges we burn during moments of crisis can be so important. And far be it from me to keep you any longer—although I’d love to schedule a follow-up in a few weeks’ time. Just so I can, ah, see how you’re getting on.”

Mariah nodded eagerly. She was so thankful to Dr. Cerulean for helping her get her head on straight. Really, it was the least she could do.

As Dr. Cerulean stood up to see Mariah out, they carelessly set down on their desk the small notepad they had been taking notes on. With it face up, Mariah could see a few of the choice comments Dr. Cerulean had made:

‘BOOOORING I’m so sad blah blah blah’ ‘messing with her orientation? nice lol’ ‘dig for mantras?’ ‘oh she’s COOKED cooked.’ ‘amazed someone else hasn’t scooped her up already’ ‘regular follow-ups? the massage is pretty good’

Mariah decided to ignore them. She decided they had to be about somebody else. Fortunately, Dr. Cerulean distracted her from it by sliding another piece of paper across the desk.

“Now, about that release?” the psychiatrist asked politely. “I think this could be really great material for a fic. I can see getting a lot of Ao3 kudos for this one.”

With a tight, harrowed, unsteady, haunted grin on her tear-stained face, Mariah obediently signed her name and then hurried back to return to her life as a brainwashed, submissive, lesbian secretary. As she left, Dr. Cerulean leaned back in their chair and slipped their hand down the front of their pants.

“All in a day’s work,” Dr. Cerulean murmured to themself. “Now, let me see if I can finish before my five o’clock.”

—

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

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[gojozaiacc]

TLC, buggy the clown

la!!buggy the clown x fem!!reader summary: y/n is one of Buggy's newest additions to his freakshow and after a particularly rough show he looks to her for comfort. tw!! fluff (like a lot of it), pining (mutual), angst if you squint. notes: I tried as hard as I could to make Buggy as in-character as possible in this I swear to god. It was so hard, guys.

y/n turns her head away from the mirror with the lights. She was still dressed in her circus outfit which consisted of a tight purple tank top and a black poofy skirt with sparkly suspenders, bright purple fishnets covered her pale legs.

Her face was previously painted white with sparkly black mime makeup and a fake bright red clown nose. Since the show ended an hour ago she had wiped it off leaving just the fake red nose on her face.

Her head had turned towards the door, seeing Cabajji standing there with a rather nervous look on his face. --"The captain's asking for you..."He told her, swallowing.

The show tonight hadn't gone as brilliantly as their captain, Buggy had hoped. A ton of the cast were late to their ques, the crowd were all over the place with their orders- it was just a total disaster tonight which obviously led their usually jolly captain in a bad mood.

But she wasn't nervous when hearing that Buggy was asking for her. She had never really been afraid of him. Running a hand through her red hair, she stood up to her feet, wobbling a little in the heels Buggy had forced her to wear for the show.

Cabajji gave her an almost sympathetic smile and patted the door. --"He's in his room. Could you let him know the rest of us are going out for a drink?"He asked and she nodded, moving past him.

Cabajji would have told the captain himself but he knew that Buggy was less likely to get angry if it came from y/n. He had a soft spot for her.

After bidding him goodnight, y/n wobbled past him and down the hall towards Buggy's room. She took maybe ten steps before ultimately giving up and slipping the heels off, leaving her to shrink back down to her full height of 5'4.

With aching calves, she found herself back in front of Buggy's cabin door. Heart beating loudly against her ribcage, she lifted a hand to lightly tap her knuckles against the door.

A muffled 'come in' is heard from behind the door. Swallowing, she pushed down the handle on the door and slipped through the crack, shutting it back over behind her.

Her heart dropped when she saw Buggy sitting at the edge of his bed, his shoulders sagged in an uncharacteristically sad manner. With a soft frown, she walked over to him, setting her heels on the ground next to the door.

She sank to her knees in front of Buggy, sitting on the carpet in the space between his legs. This wasn't the first time they had been in this position, which is part of the reason why she wasn't nervous to comfort him.

Lifting a hand up, she rested it against his cheek- feeling him lean into the touch with his eyes shut. --"Where's that smile?" She asked in an attempt to cheer him up, her voice softer than honey.

Buggy lifted a gloved hand to rest against the hand that caressing his cheek, his eyes fluttering open to look at her. y/n's heart stuttered a little in her chest when their eyes met.

He turned his face against her hand so he could press a light and tender kiss to her palm. He had done this numerous times before but it never failed to make her blush.

"Not up to smiling, toots."He simply responded and she nodded her head in response, plastering a smile onto her face. --"Guess I'll have to do all of the smiling for you then."She joked, an overexaggerated grin appearing on her face as she continued to attempt to make him feel better.

And it seemed to work for a brief moment as a chuckle fell past his painted lips. --"Tonight was a mess..."He mumbled and she shook her head, lifting a finger to press against his lips.

"Every good show had a bad day. We'll do better tomorrow."She told him, nodding her head encouragingly. Her bright attitude seemed to put a small smile on the captain's face and her lips turn upwards.

"See, there's that smile..."She trailed off, tracing the pads of her thumbs up and down his cheekbones. Buggy's chest felt heavy as he looked at her.

He always went to her for comfort. She had only been with the crew for 6 months but they just got each other. She was the only person he felt comfortable enough to just sit and air it all out. The same goes for her part. She never felt judged when she was with him.

They always sought words of comfort in each other and nothing more. But the 'nothing more' is what they had both been thinking about recently.

Sure, they were attracted to each other but were they willing to risk what working relationship they had?

Buggy seemed to have already made his mind up as he looped one of his gloved fingers with one of the fingers on her hand which was pressed against his cheek.

"Stay with me?"He murmured to her, a hopeful look appearing in his blue eyes. He felt a little pathetic and if it had been anyone else he would have just forced them to stay with him, but not y/n.

Her heart stuttered again at the question as she found herself nodding her head. Hell, Buggy could ask her to slip a knife between her ribcage right now and she would probably go along with it.

Her eyes danced across his face and she swallowed. --"Do you wear your clown makeup to bed?"She asked, curious. Buggy raised an eyebrow, he hadn't expected that question.

He shrugs in response. --"Only if I forget to take it off."He responded, his voice gruff. She hummed and stood to her feet.

Buggy watched her walk over to his desk, his eyebrows pulling together as he leaned back on his mattress with the help of his hands.

After a few seconds, she turned around with a packet of wipes in her hands. --"This packet is full, Buggy."She was almost scolding him as she walked back over to him.

"So?"He murmured, watching her return back to the spot she had been sitting in before, sitting the packet of wipes next to her. She scoffs a little at his tone.

"What do you mean 'so'? you have got to take better care of your skin."She told him. --"What you need is some TLC."She said with a grin. He leaned forward to pull off the fake clown nose she had forgotten she was still wearing.

He completely ignored her scrutinising. --"heh, you look cute with the big red nose."He compliments. Her cheeks heat as she starts to pull a wipe out from the packet she had retrieved from his desk.

"So do you."She retaliated, pushing herself up onto her knees so she was a little closer to his face. Buggy's throat goes dry at the sudden closeness.

"not according too-"He started off only for her to interrupt him, lifting the wet wipe to his cheek. --"I don't care what others say. Your nose is what makes you unique and cool."She told him, her eyes not looking into his and instead focusing on where she was scrubbing his face.

Her words forced him into silence, and he pondered her words as she gently wiped off his clown makeup. She had never actually seen him without his theatric circus makeup so imagine her surprise at the man underneath it.

A small chuckle bubbled up her throat as she wiped away the remainder of his makeup. --"You never told me you had such a handsome face underneath the chaos." She comments, rubbing off some of the red makeup around his lips.

Buggy's throat goes dry again at her words, his cheeks turning the same colour as his red makeup. After a few more moments, she had thrown the wipe to the ground with a soft smile on her face.

"There. All done."She told him, standing up to throw the wipe in the bin. Buggy glanced over to his reflection in the mirror above his desk, y/n's words filling him with the tiniest amount of confidence.

His eyes then found her. He took notice that she was still in her circus outfit. Feeling his gaze on her, she glanced down and shook her head.

"I, uh, didn't get the chance to change..."She trailed off with a nervous chuckle. She nodded her head over to the heels she had discarded at his door. --"Those heels you make me wear are real killers."She mused, folding her arms over her chest as Buggy stood his feet.

She almost shrank back as he walked over to her, his figure craning over hers. His gaze falls to her legs for a moment before a blush coated his cheeks and he forced himself to look back up at her face.

"I, uh-"He paused to clear his throat, --"You can borrow a shirt if you want."he offered. An appreciative smile appears on her face as she nods her head.

"I'd appreciate that."She told him. With a nod, she watched Buggy walk over and begin to look through the clothes in his drawers.

Standing by almost nervously, she glanced down at her chipped nails. A frown settled on her face when she noticed the chip, deciding she would add a fresh coat tomorrow before the show.

Eventually, Buggy spun back around with an accomplished grin on his face and a shirt in his hands. y/n took in the details of his grin without the company of his clown makeup, her cheeks heating.

Her silence only had Buggy frown, nerves settling in as he remembered he was bare-faced. Noticing his nerves, her brown eyes widened and she walked towards him, shaking her head.

"Hey, no."She said defiantly as she reached him, resting a hand on his shoulder. --"You look great, Buggy."She informed him with a pointed look.

Her face was close to his as she scolded him for even thinking bad thoughts about his appearance. In her eyes Buggy is perfect. He will always be perfect in her eyes.

Buggy eyed her, his chest feeling heavy again. --"Why are you so good to me?"He mumbled to her. She blinked in surprise at the question, not expecting it.

But she didn't miss a beat with her response. --"Because I care about you, Buggy."She told him lifting her hand to rest against his cheek again. --"And I want you to see yourself how I see you."She told him, standing a little closer to him as she spoke.

By now they were a few inches apart, their chests nearly touching. Buggy suddenly lifted both of his gloved hands to rest against her face. If he stood this close to any of his other crew members they would be flinching back in fear but not y/n. She would never be frightened of him.

He always had treated her differently.

She leaned into his touch as he took a small step closer, their feet touching. Her chest, too, started to feel heavy as she watched his gaze flicker between her brown eyes and her smooth lips.

The tension snapped as his lips hesitantly moved to press against hers. She felt him tilt his head as her hands clutched his vest and tugged him closer to her.

The kiss was soft. There was no neediness or frustration behind it. It was sweet. Her lips moved up into a smile as she stood on her toes, feeling him rest his hands on her hips.

Buggy was certain that his heartbeat was in his ears. He was holding his breath as his lips slid softly against hers, his hands switching between resting on her hips and her jaw. The fear of messing this up was prominent in the back of his mind but he must be doing something right if she hadn't moved away in disgust yet.

After around 10 more seconds she pulled back and held a finger up between their mouths with a small smile. --"As much as I would love to keep doing this-"She grabbed the clothes from Buggy's hands. --"I need to change."She reminded him.

Buggy stood dazed as he watched her disappear into his bathroom with his clothes, the door shutting behind her. He stood there feeling as though he was going to fall over from the shakiness in his legs.

He hadn't planned on kissing her it seemed to just happen on instinct. Not that he was complaining. Apparently, he stood there like this for a while because he was still standing there in a daze when she walked out of the bathroom.

His shirt reached mid-thigh but she didn't mind. She walked over to put her own clothes next to her heels. His limbs finally started to work as he moved to sit on the edge of his bed.

She raised an eyebrow. --"Do you sleep in that?"She giggled, gesturing to his clothing. He glanced down and shrugged his shoulders. --"Most of the time, yeah."He responded as she walked closer to him.

He eyed her with a dazed look in his eyes. --"You look good in my shirt, sweets."He comments, leaning forward to grab her wrist and tug her closer to him so she is standing between his legs.

A bashful smile appeared on her face as he wrapped both arms around her waist in a bold manner. A thoughtful smile appeared on her face as she rested her hands on his cheeks.

"What is it?"He asked, tilting his head to the side. She shrugged, biting her top lip as she smiled. --"I'm just happy I managed to cheer you up is all."She responded, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his forehead.

His eyes shut at the feeling of her lips against his forehead, his heart swelling in his ribcage with uncertainty. He wasn't used to this sort of affection.

But he craved the attention she gave him, just like how he craved the love from the crowd at his shows. He had been begging for some love all of his life and he had it now. He didn't plan on losing it any time soon.

She pulled back and swatted her hand against his bicep with a smile. --"Alright, is that seriously what you wear to sleep?"She questioned, raising an eyebrow. He hummed and shook his head. --"Nah, I usually sleep with nothing on but I doubt you want to see that in your first stay, toots."He smirked with his words, winking as he watched a blush rise to her cheeks at the thought.

Shaking her head, she moved away from his grip to plop down onto the bed next to him. --"At least take off the vest."She hummed, laying back against the pillows.

Buggy fought back a sarcastic response as he unbuckled his vest and slid it off. y/n slid underneath the covers, sighing contently as her red hair spread out against the pillow.

After a few moments, Buggy was joining her under the covers. He paused a little when feeling her almost instantly shuffle closer to him and rest her head on his bare chest.

His heart stuttered a little as he settled himself beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. This position was new to him but he wasn't complaining.

Nuzzling her face against his chest, she moved an arm to wrap around his waist, her eyes falling shut. A grin spread across Buggy's face as he leaned his cheek on the top of her head.

Reaching across, her turned off the lamp that sat beside his bed. Darkness coats the room as he feels her snuggle closer to him, a smile on her lips.

Pulling off his gloves, he sat them next to his lamp, his bare hands resting against her forearm. Grinning, he shut his own eyes, sleep almost instantly taking control of his form and hers.

[crystaleevee4]

just read chasing the horizon line by @1watermelontea and @nine-of-diamonds! Very good fic, take some doodles of three of these silly guys (I have more doodles but they’re uncolored so. Gotta fix that before uploading) also

WOW tumblr is determined to completely tank the quality (tbf I don’t have a very. High-quality camera)

JESUS CHRISYT FUCK MY LIFE THE ALT IMAGE DESCRIPTION IS TOO LONG. HOLD ON i'm sorry this is so long

[image ID: A doodle of Grian, Gem, and Skizz from the fanfic "chasing the horizon line". They are all merpeople of some kind. Above them all are the words "rotates Mer at top speeds in mind (from fic Chasing the Horizon Line)". Below that, the words "girl help this went from 11:27 PM to 1:24 AM…"

Grian has round glasses and fluffy, short and dark blonde hair. He is holding an enchantment book titled "NOT MENDING LOL" out in front of him with one hand while the other is on his hip. He has an unimpressed expression. He is wearing a large red sweater and his tail almost matches the shade. There are scales completely covering his tail, and a few on his neck and nose. His tail is roughly medium-sized, and he is in fact the middle ground when it comes to height in this sketch. Above him are the words "Grian - Fish mer - Unsure what kind".

Gem is the shortest of the three, with a shorter, orange tail that is slightly frilly. Her hair is reddish-orange and poofy, falling to about elbow length. She is wearing a navy-blue vest/jacket over a white shirt, and her hands are clasped together mischievously. She has green eyes, and her facial expression is incredibly gremlin-like. There are scales on her neck, and some on her tail. She has fin-like ears, and there is a lantern-like thing hanging from her head. Above her are the words "Gem - Anglerfish" and next to her are the words "So pretty and sparkly… don't you want to come a little closer?"

Skizz is the tallest of all three of them, with the longest tail. He is grinning and looking off to the side. His teeth are very sharp. Most of his body, including his tail, is covered in scars. He is waving. There are visible gills on his neck and near the upper half of his tail- which has no scales. His hair is a dark gray (intended to be black/brown) with red streaks in it. He is just wearing a binder (because I love him) and there are also the words "hits him with my transgender beam" next to him as well as the trans flag in faded color pencil. There appears to be the hints of a fin on his back, and on the sides of his tail. On his other side are the words "Skizz - Shark!" with a little heart under them. /End ID]

(I fucked up grian’s hair so bad I’ve never used colored pencils before this point in time)

(I also fucked up proportions. Again, tbf, this was late at night and I forgot to check before coloring)

[image ID: flaming text saying "if you can LIKE it, you can REBLOG it!! <3333" /End ID] (did i do that right)

this is completely /nm* by the way! slash lighthearted

*the tone tag /nm means "not mad"

[satellite-runner]

the girl and jet star headcanons?? spitting image? 👀👀

I AM SO HAPPY SOMEONE ASKED

I think young Jet Star and The Girl look virtually the EXACT SAME other then The Girls eye color

When Ghoul finds the Girl, she's just on that edge of being between a baby and a toddler that none of them quite know how to handle. Ghoul, of course, gets dogged on for bringing a whole child home despite them all knowing that had it been any of them out on that scouting run, that'd have scooped her up and bought her home too. Absently, they all come to the conclusion she looks a bit like Jet other then her shockingly white eyes, which Cherri seems to be wary of.

As she grows, it becomes abundantly clear that she's Jets spitting image. Rich skin and coily hair, even her flat nose and tooth gap match Jets. It's something they joke about, not bothered by it. Quietly, their all happy she has someone she can see herself in, even if nowadays one of Jets eyes is covered by a eyepatch because of a thick scar running over it and their hair has a few streaks of color through it.

When the Girl gets around the age Jet was when they met the venom siblings, the resemblance is uncanny.

When Jet was a teenager, the innate calmness they have now hadn't developed yet. They were a rough n tumble starborn, fighting the world alongside their small and scrappy best friend. They were less than happy when two banged up cityborns stumbled into Dr. D's radio shack. As far as Jet was concerned, Ghoul was the only bat outta hell worth telling the time to.

Kobra could tell you in detail just how his heart jumped when he first Jet. Jet was something lethal, something with a edge. Their looks were striking, to say the least. Kobra had never seen someone with hair like that, coiled tight and poofy. In the city, anybody with hair textured like that had neat braids or straightened their hair.

Kobra is hurt, sunburnt to all hell, half sure he's hallucinating the gorgeous stranger, kobra doesn't mention them until well after he's passed out and been treated for his severe dehydration and sun stroke. As it turns out, Jet had been the one to treat him, as much as they didn't want to.

Now Jet and the rest of the crew is older, the Girl is the same age Jet was (at least, they think the same age. Neither Jet or the Girl are 100% sure on their ages) when the fabulous four came to be and even the personality is matching. The Girl is rough n tumble, stubborn as all hell with a fire burning in her eyes.

If their being honest, sometimes the fab four or their extended crew will catch glimpses of Jet in the Girl. A mannerism, a phrase, a smile, a laugh, a stubborn refusal, a knack for anything medical. They don't mention it to her, not often, least they teach her that she isn't a individual of her own, just a mini me of Jet. They know better then to compare them, but they'd be lying if they said the resemblance didn't catch them off guard.

years after the crew rescued the Girl from battery city, years after they all met the Witch (for kobra, it wasn't the first time. A race at the crash track ended in him skidding down the track was the first time, but comme ci comme ca) and they all understand why Cherri had such a aversion to looking the Girl in the eye her whole life. Her white eyes, that they all were so sure meant she was born blind until she proved them wrong, bore a striking resemblance to the Witches eyes. They had all figured her white eyes were something unique when she was little, something that sets her apart from the rest of the zones. They hadn't ever thought that ever thought they'd be the spitting image of thr Witches eyes. Puzzle pieces start to click into place.

Now, sometimes it isn't Jet they catch a glimpse of in the Girl. Sometimes, when it's dark and the heat of the dessert has chilled into below freezing, they see the Girls eyes in the dark of the dinner and freeze, for a moment believing they had passed in their sleep and the Witch was going to take them quietly.

[ennaku-sirri-da]

Self care is putting your face in a very soft cat/muppet

( plaintext: Self care is putting your face in a very soft cat/muppet )

Click for better quality!

[ ID: Traditional uncolored fanart of the Smile For Me game involving Dr.Habit, and a habitician sona of the artists friend called Buddy. The style is semi realistic leaning on the cartoony side, with a significant amount of detail.

In the artists AU interpretation Habit has marionette features such as segmented, jointed dark line-cuts around his mouth, hands that are visible. Scarring is seen on hands. He is also fur covered. His face is gaunt and freckled with protruding furry cheeks, then fur-ruffles under his makeup-applied eyes, then a thin pencil stache with surrounding chin hair. His voluminous curly hair poofs out into drawn spiralling curls, from under his big fedora. Habit wears a faux fur-like coat with rougher yet still soft material for teal sleeves. He also sports a long artificial-feather boa holding little flowers. His shoes are long-covering and leathery ribboned heels.

Buddy is a shorter purple catgirl who greatly resembles an upright cat. She is a Russian Blue with a round spotted face, scruffy fur of medium length and very thick eyebrows. Their dark straight hair has a poofy quality to it. They wear a sleeveless dress with a long skirt, complete with socks that end in fuzzy cat's paw patterned flip flops.

Habit joyously links his arms together with his hands, holding Buddy in the embrace. He looks emotional with his eyes closed and a shaky laugh. His boa cloth wraps around his shoulders and drops down, spilling little flowers all around from the effect of him moving, laughing. His long coat trails on the ground, his legs set in an forward-facing position showing the full height of the heels kept close together. Buddy is also laughing with a fallen flower tickling their nose, eyes closed happily and fluffy ears pointing up. A bit of his fangs are seen. He holds his round paws near each other in Habit's grip. Her skirt falls smoothly in a downward way as she fiddles her legs out and about.

Habit is sitting on a large tree trunk that the artist has decorated with clunky yet flowing swirling shapes. In the immediate backdrop behind them is a large apple tree, its roots near them outlined thickly with pencil. The roots are decorated rougher-sketched than the trunk. The top of the tree is filled with many apples and rounded leaves in bunches and bunches. ' Some ' is written incompletely in sketch at the far left. End ID]

--

sOMEBODY ONCE TOLD ME....

Actually, no.

Kyaaaaa! * Blasts you with this *

[ ID: The same image as above but edited. It's got a softer more blurred look, and is glazed over with a deep yellow color that shines most at the center, with Buddy and Habit. In variously colored sketchpens of blue, pink, green, red, orange, brown, the lyrics on the far left to Boney M's 'Somewhere In The World' continued, dropping down in lines-

' Somewhere in the world

There is peace of mind

Theres a place for me

In this world

Somewhere in the world

That's what I must find'

A significant distance below these is written

' Time...

Changer of seasons...

Time will see...

Another Flower Blooming. '

There are loose, big blue, pink and brown hearts drawn inside one another, overlapping with trailing tails. They are drawn around Habit and Buddy's faces and in thick oil pastel smaller red hearts emanate from Habit, while blue hearts come from Buddy. End ID]

Talk under the cut! Please read if interested!

Sooo first off Buddy belongs to my very good and very fluffy friend @ prrusten on Twitter and Tumblr!

If I remember right, Buddy( It's a pun! HEHE...a friend...and a 'bud'-- not yet in bloom) was a stressed Habitician who came here in hopes to get cheered after going through a bad spell in her life. One day, she meets a shivering stranger named Rose, who keeps talking about not knowing exactly where he came from or who he is, getting flashes of memories. She decides to provide shelter to this Flower Kid, and they eventually bond to become the best of brothers, being each other's light in their places of the mind. All Will Change, when Rose signs their lost souls up for a place called " The Habitat "....

Habit admires Buddy. Kind like me, to all, he thinks.

Buddy has much more complicated feelings after the overseer of the Habitat's spiral and subsequent attack on her and her friend....pulling out his thorns, cus he's got no teeth!

But they keep trying, again and again,

Rewinding, resetting.

They get it really wrong, one time around. Funeral, sworn to silence, moving on. Rose can't accept it. They get it right, the other times around.

This is that world. This is the world where the cycle was broken. This is where, in a long time, into the unknown, they could be friends....

My brother.. and someone else very dear to Me :" ) (teary smile emote) /platonic

PS: This picture is platonic!!!

[shipwreckinabottle]

my pad, your pad, lilypad

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: She-Hulk: Attorney at Law (TV)

Relationship: Matt Murdock/Jennifer Walters            

Word Count: 7074

Summary: and there's a vague sense of awareness that—from the sway of the cross as he fucks her into the bed—he’s definitely got a hell of a dirty mouth for a Catholic boy.

/hours after the Lilypad/

-

I wrote a thing!

(Read on Ao3)

(short preview)

There’s thunder overhead and a heavy pour when they get to her place. Her back presses up against the front door, his hand finding purchase on the wooden beams beside her, his lips a mixture of rainwater and salt. He partly shields her from the downpour as she fumbles blindly through her purse for the keys, the lone, flickering porchlight above them casting his silhouette across the front lawn like a demon from the dark, surely a metaphor there for the less… distracted times.

The rumble of thunder breaks their kiss, a powerful flash of lightning illuminating Californian palm trees swaying in the wind and a reddened gleam off the carbon plates of Matt’s specialized suit, a brief, visible flare of knife scratches, chipped surfaces from bullet marks, and whatever other old, attempted wounds remain.

Jen finds the key eventually and opens the door. Shoes kicked off at the entrance, another flash of lightning, and she catches his outline by the doorway, rainwater lit up like blood across his darkened frame, deviled horns and an empty, red slit in his mask where eyes should be. Another strike of lightning, thunder follows, and she sees red, red, red, the color of hellfire and death, of blood and the Devil who comes in the night to collect.

She understands it, then. His moniker. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. She had laughed at it previously, finding it a bit too edgy and on the nose, but it’s a lot more apt than she had thought, even terrifying up close in the dark.

And yet, as Matt approaches her, as their lips hover inches apart, as she breathes him in and tastes the rainwater on his lips, as his mask peels away and her hands knot into his hair and his calloused fingers curve her jaw and angle her chin towards him, Matt feels nothing less than human, radiating gentleness and warmth and laughter echoing from his throat to her own as they hear the comical squelch, squelch, squelches coming from his wet boots.

They break apart so that he can remove his shoes and toss them aside in a wet flop. A soft click follows as Jen turns on a nearby lamp, nothing too bright, but enough for her to see him up close, full of warm shadows and sharp angles and the lines in his face and the flecks of hazel in his eyes. His hair looks weirdly soft in the touch of lamplight, whatever product he had previously used to hold it up had washed away in the rain, and some of it now falls against his forehead, all poofy and sudden urges to reach out and smoothen them back across his hairline.

Then off come his gloves, the latches, the hidden compartments and batons and clasps and zips. It takes Matt a full minute to shoulder off the top portion of his suit, which falls heavily to the ground with a loud thump, revealing its innards lined with hidden plates and protective kevlar.

Something in her chest flutters at the sight of his pale skin, at the lean lines of muscles and the mortal woes of a man without unbreakable, gamma-radiated flesh; he has scars, more than she can count at a single glance, more than she can likely see in the dim lights. She recognizes some of them from her time at the DA’s office, a mishmash of knife cuts and bullet wounds and dark bruises where ribs had broken again and again before healing fully, like a painting drawn over a hundred times, scars healed over and scars anew.

The reality of it sinks in for a moment, terrible, terrible, and it breaks her heart a little.

[prismarts]

Imperfect First Valentine's

Plot: Douxie tries to plan something special for Illy for her first Valentine's Day but...things don't turn out as he expects.

Notes: Douxilly, Douxie x OC, OC x Canon content, mostly fluff, Douxie feels a bit sad and worried but mostly teeth rotting fluff :3, Illy's first Valentine's day

Trigger warnings: Lots of PDA, Lots and lots of kissing they are just very affectionate, mentions of food (let me know if I missed anything)

Word count: 3192 words

Tags: @furblrwurblr @alovesongshewrote @mxcheese @blixeon @tales-of-hisirdoux @pinkflash4627 @bernie-the-nugget @natez-drawz @peachy-bubbles-123 @lady-of-a-castle @marcoofthemoon @misty--skies @the-arson-author-gamer @sergeantsporks

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Valentine’s Day wasn’t exactly Douxie’s favourite holiday…. (That honour would be reserved for Christmas, if he could be completely honest) but this time it was different. It would be Illy’s first Valentine’s Day ever, her first time celebrating the holiday since she had not known of its existence for 900 years. He was determined to make today extra special just for her.

Thankfully, he had planned out the entire day for them after securing the entire day off from work. Which was rare, given the circumstances of them being in the city and in hiding from the Arcane Order but that's besides the point.

He had the picnic basket ready, in the basket on his motorcycle good to go and he had gotten himself ready as well. Nothing too fancy, though, he did dress up a little with a leather jacket over one of his usual band t-shirts, black ripped jeans, his usual skull necklace, shoes and belt. He did pull his hair back for today, just to change things up a bit…. And to avoid fidgeting with said bangs that are usually in his face.

He was just waiting on his beloved to finish getting ready, feeling himself pacing around for a moment…. Perhaps he was a little nervous about what he had planned, if only because he knew that Illy was still getting used to life in the modern times… He just hoped he could make the day special for her.

The sound of the bedroom door caught his attention as he turned his head towards the small hallway towards the rooms in the apartment, his face turning red as he saw Illy, dressed up in a cute sundress. A pastel baby blue dress with poofy sleeves and a heart shaped neckline with a pattern of forget me not flowers all over. Her hair was down as usual but seemed to be slightly curlier than usual, forget me nots almost scattered in her hair. She had on her usual stud choker and their matching skull necklace and black sneakers with flowery patterns on it. Her small butterfly wings fluttering behind her, a recently new sight for him, really…

“Fuzzbuckets…” Douxie mumbled, a dopey loving smile on his face as he stared at her. His gold hazel and green eyes almost sparkled at the sight of his beloved, she was always so beautiful to him. He can’t help the way his heart races everytime.

“D..do I look alright?... I didn’t.. Overdo it, did I?...I can go change if-”

“N..No, no! I..it’s…I…you look beautiful, darling…” He was able to ramble out as he walked over to her, gently cupping her face in his hands as he leaned down to kiss her forehead gently. “You always look beautiful, Illy…” He hummed, letting a cheeky smile form on his face as he leaned his forehead against her, arms gently resting around her waist as he admired the red hue appearing on Illy’s freckled cheeks.

“Cheeky…” Illy mumbled, pouting as she stared up at him for a moment, the cute embarrassment on her face made him chuckle as he kissed her nose teasingly, “Awww, but you love me~” He mumbled softly, his voice low and teasing as he kept that playful smirk on his face. That was until he felt Illy’s hands push at his face, her own cheeks growing red. “Stopppppp~” She whined playfully…getting embarrassed.

Douxie let out another laugh, moving his hands up to gently hold hers as he backed away…mostly to avoid being teasingly pushed and falling. “Alright, alright… I’ll stop…” He smiled lovingly as he offered a hand to her, “But only because I have a special day planned for us… as much as I would love to tease you all day…” He couldn’t help grinning as he heard Illy’s sweet giggle as she grabbed hold of his hand, squeezing it as she intertwined their fingers.

“Arch! Nari! We’ll be back soon! I’ll put the protection spells up!”

And with that, they were off, walking down the stairs to the lobby of the small apartment building as he led her to his motorcycle. Douxie picked up one of the helmets hanging from the handles of his bike, reaching over to help Illy put it on, being careful not to mess up her hair as he did so and….taking advantage of the situation to give her a small peck on the nose before grabbing his own helmet to put on.

“You remember how to get on right? Do you need any help, my love?...” He asked, looking over to Illy to make sure she needed any help with getting on the motorcycle, given that they don’t usually take it together. But, she shook her head with a smile.

“Alright, love..” The wizard mumbled before smiling back as he got on the motorcycle, waiting as his love got on behind him…struggling a little bit but was able to seat herself behind him, arms gently wrapped around him from the back as he started up the engine. He felt her hold on tightly as he started driving off.

He smiled as he kept driving off, he had picked out the perfect spot to take her. The breeze he felt as he drove them there made him grin, he always loved the feeling of the breeze whenever he rode but….the warm feeling of Illy clinging onto him made him smile even more…it was a welcomed feeling. But he focused on the road as he drove off further and further away from the city. Though, he began to notice clouds slowly appearing in the sky as he frowned a little…

Soon, Douxie stopped his motorcycle on a grassy hillside… green grass and colourful flowers throughout the land of the hill. A large willow tree on the top of the hill. He smiled as he parked the motorbike at the foot of the hill, getting off the vehicle. It seemed like the clouds didn’t follow them….maybe the weather would be perfect for his surprise. Though he did feel worried as he looked around, there were a few clouds a bit further away…

The wizard didn’t get to think on it too much though as Illy immediately got off of the motorcycle putting her helmet back on one of the bike handles. She gasped excitedly, looking around the beautiful scenery around her. “Douxie! I…t..this place it’s… incredible!”, she squeaked out, excitedly grabbing his hands. Squeezing them lovingly, a bright smile on her face as she looked up at him.

Douxie couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face at her reaction, his worries almost immediately forgotten as he squeezed her hands back for a moment. “I…I’m glad, darling…I thought it’d be a nice change of pace from the city….a little piece of home…if you will..” He explained quietly, smiling softly. He knew how hard it had been for Illy to adjust to living in a city…when she’s spent a majority of her immortal life in a flying castle and while he couldn’t find a castle in the city area…he knew she would love a nice open flower field.

“It’s…perfect, Douxie… I love it..”

He smiled as he took her hand to lead her further up the hill surrounded with colourful flowers letting her take in the scenery as she squeezed his hand and smiled. Illy had since run ahead enjoying the silence and the peaceful surroundings. The wizard let out a small sigh, happy to see her enjoy herself so much, seeing her wings fluttering and her practically dancing around the fields.

Douxie let a grin appear on his face as he thought to himself, he carefully lifted his jacket sleeves up for a moment to get his charm bracelet out as he activated it for a moment, letting the bright glow of his sky blue magic charge the magical artefact. ‘Okay, Douxie. First surprise, you got this.’. He thought to himself as he took a deep breath.

He walked over to his love gently taking her hand to get her attention as she turned to face him, smiling. “I got a surprise for you, fluturaș..”, he grinned, watching her face turn excited and curious. The curiosity in her turquoise hued eyes sparkling is pulling at his heartstrings from how adorable it was.

“A surprise? I thought this place was the surprise…”

“One of many, darling…are you ready?...”

Illy nodded excitedly, her eyes sparkling even more with excitement as she looked up at him. The wizard nodded as he kept the grin on his face, he tapped a few runes on his bracelet, watching them appear in his signature sky blue glow as he brought his hands together and recited the spell, “Adventum Flores…”

His golden hazel and green eyes focused on his charm bracelet as the sky blue magic appeared in his hands….but ended up exploding into small fireworks. A frown immediately appeared on his face as it happened, he let out a heavy sigh. Well, it was worth a shot…but he wasn’t the nature wizard here..

“Darling?...What's wrong?...was that…not meant to happen?...”

He looked up from his hands, seeing the slight confusion and worry on Illy’s face as he sighed nervously. “N…no…No.. It wasn’t… the spell was meant to conjure up a bouquet..for you….but I suppose, there’s a reason that I’m not the one studying under Nari…” He said with a slight chuckle as a nervous grin appeared on his face. He couldn’t help feeling slightly bad that the spell didn’t work.

Illy looked at Douxie as she smiled a little, reaching out as she gently cupped his face. “Douxie…it’s okay… you tried your best… and it was a very sweet gesture, my love…” She mumbled softly as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his nose softly. “Why don’t we go and pick some flowers for a bouquet together instead?...” She asked, a loving tone in her voice as she smiled a little more.

She felt him lean down to lean his forehead against hers, reaching out to hold one of her hands that cupped her face. “Alright, love….I’d really like that..” He mumbled softly, leaving a lingering kiss on her forehead before taking her hand in his and pulling back to stand up properly. He held her hand as she brought him towards a patch of colourful flowers nearby. Douxie watched quietly as she kneeled down to pick some flowers, he still felt quite bad for not being able to conjure up the bouquet for her. He practised quite a bit and was hoping that he’d be able to…He supposed he still had a bit to learn about nature spells. His train of thought was interrupted as Illy pulled him to gently kneel down with her, almost making him fall forward with a yelp but she was able to help steady him. Then, teasingly and carefully placing a dandelion behind his ear. “There, adorable~”

The wizard stared at her for a moment, mostly from the slight shock he got from being pulled down but let out a quiet laugh as he smiled at her. “Look! I picked a bunch of dandelions, your favourite!” She exclaimed, the bright smile on her face as she showed him the small bouquet of dandelions in her hands making his heart race like he had just gotten off a rollercoaster or just finished wrestling a shadow mephit.

“They’re beautiful, darling…” Douxie mumbled with a smile as he looked around for a moment, spotting a patch of forget me nots nearby. He grinned, taking her hand and helping her to feet, “Follow me…”, he led her towards the small patch he saw as he bent down to pick a small bouquet’s worth of the small blue flowers.

Illy was looking around up at the sky as he was busy picking the flowers, tilting her head slightly at the sight of rain clouds slowly making their way over towards the hillside. A smile still on her face but her attention was grabbed as Douxie stood back up, showing her the small bouquet of forget me nots he had picked for her.

“Tada!~ Forget me nots for my very special darling!” He exclaimed in a romantic, almost cheesy dramatic tone. A loving grin etched on his face as she saw her smile at the small bundle of her favourite flowers. Illy reached over to take the forget me nots from him, sitting down on the grassy ground once again.

The wizard followed suit, smiling as he watched Illy quietly rearrange the dandelions and forget me nots they had picked. Almost carefully weaving them into a bouquet of both their favourite flowers. He took the time, really, to admire his love… the way her eyes sparkled, the way she stuck her tongue out to concentrate, the way she was being so gentle with the flowers they had picked together.

So much so, that by the time that she had finished arranging the flowers, he hadn’t even noticed the sky growing dark with rain clouds….well, that was until it started raining, small sprinkles of raindrops landing on both of them. He jumped at the feeling of the cold rain as it quickly went from small sprinkles to a decent sized drizzle, effectively soaking the both of them in a matter of minutes as he quickly helped her up.

In a slight panic, Douxie tried to race Illy up towards the willow tree at the top of the hill, missing slightly the way she was giggling at his sudden race to get there. They tried to be as quick as they could, but alas, still ended up soaking wet by the time they sat under the tree.

Illy was giggling softly as they sat down, having been able to make sure the bouquet of flowers stayed nice and healthy using her magic as they raced up there. Her hair now as soaking wet as her dress as she turned to look at her love, who looked just as bad, his wet bangs now covering his face as the rain had effectively ruined the pulled back look.

He was able to muster a small smile, hearing her giggle before growing a bit worried as he slipped off his leather jacket to drape it over her, in an attempt to keep her warm at least. “Fuzzbuckets, I didn’t think it was going to rain today….” He muttered quietly before remembering something as he panicked once again.

Charging up his charm bracelet, he focused and levitated the picnic basket he had packed from his motorcycle over towards them. He let out a heavy sigh of relief as he scrambled, opening the basket to check the food he had packed inside….

Only to groan in frustration as he covered his face with his hands, sighing heavily. “Fuzzbuckets, you’ve got to be kidding me!”, he exclaimed, voice squeaking slightly in frustration as he leaned his head back, hitting the tree and wincing in pain.

“Douxie?.....w..what’s wrong, love?...”

The sound of Illy’s concerned voice made him wince again as he looked over, seeing her look particularly concerned with the way he just slightly blew up. “I…” He sighed, feeling terrible for reacting the way he did and for the fact that he had effectively ruined this date. “I’m sorry love, I….Fuzzbuckets, I forgot the picnic treats I made for you….I must’ve left it in the fridge without realising and packed an empty basket into the motorcycle…. I’m..so sorry…. Gods, first the botched spell, then the bloody rain! and now…….I forgot our food…. I really messed this up..”

“Douxie….”

“I’m so sorry… I..really messed this up…it was supposed to be perfect.. I..at least, wanted to make this day special since it was your first Valentine’s day and I effectively, somehow botched everything up! Fuzzbuckets, I’m so sorry Illy, I-”

He was cut off, when Illy leaned forward, grabbing his face gently to pull him into a kiss. He froze, not expecting that…at all. But, he couldn’t help but melt softly into the warm soft kiss, letting his arms slowly rest around Illy’s hips to gently pull her closer. Their faces grew warm as they kissed, slowly pulling apart for air…they had to eventually.

“I…w..wait..why did you-”

“Douxie, I’m not upset…” Illy mumbled, looking up at him with a soft smile as she sighed, seeing his almost shocked face, “Y..you’re not?...I..b..but I thought…”, he mumbled, slightly surprised…he thought he had ruined the day…if only because of how perfect he wanted it to be for her.

“Douxie, darling…. Today has been so special… Of course, it didn’t go as planned but…you’ve done so much just to make this day special for me and….I loved every moment of it… This place…. It was quiet and serene and… it reminded me of home..you picked such a special place, and while the spell you tried to do didn’t work.. We had so much fun picking flowers together and we have a special bouquet now…and..the rain wasn’t planned but you know, how much I love rain...I..” She let out a giggle with how much she was rambling as she took a breath, still cupping his face in her hands as she brushed some of his wet hair away from his face.

“My point is…..today was always special and I loved every moment of it Douxie…..I love you.. And I just…really enjoyed getting to spend so much time with you..”

Douxie stared at her, a dopey smile appearing on his face as his heart absolutely melted at what she said. He let out a quiet sigh as he leaned in, capturing his love in a passionate kiss. His arms still resting on her hips as he gently pulled her closer, letting her sit on his lap as he heard a soft sigh escape her.

He felt her hands move up to rest around his neck, fingers moving to stroke his wet hair sending shivers down his spine as he softly pulled away from the kiss. “I love you…I love you so much fluturaș…”, he rasped, whispering softly as he left a lingering kiss on her forehead as they both let out soft breaths…feeling warm in each other’s embrace as she sat on his lap, almost straddling him.

“...I love you too…I love you so much…”

Illy whispered back softly, a loving smile on her face as she moved her hands to cup his face again, pulling her beloved back in for another kiss just as passionate as his. Her hands moved to stroke his hair once again, her tongue slipping past his in their kiss causing him to completely melt and pull her closer. The two get lost in each other’s affections and warmth for a few lingering moments before pulling back again.

“W..why don’t we head home to enjoy those treats and….some more alone time..” She whispered softly, the loving smile never leaving her face as he leaned in to peck her on the nose, “That sounds perfect, fluturaș…”

[luvluvnitrodynamite]

random dates with jujutsu kaisen characters

ft. itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, zenin maki, inumaki toge, nanami kento, and gojou satoru

g/n!reader (except maybe for maki but that's more personal pref)

itadori yuuji - "hey!-", you were essentially muted as itadori plops a strawberry in your mouth. you bite down, wrinkling your nose up at him in fake upset. he just smiles and laugh, as you drop the pout and laugh with him. you two were on a picnic, drinking lemonade and watching the hours melt away into the sunny sky. currently, you two were demolishing a carton of strawberries, the green tops abandoned on a plate next to you. you swallowed, relishing the sweetness lingering on your tongue.

taking one last berry, itadori reclined and sprawled on the blanket while putting his hands behind his head. you laid down on the blanket next to him, placing your head on his chest. he glanced down at you and took one of your hands in his, his thumb starting to trace gentle circles on your palm. with your free hand, you pointed up to the clouds in the sky. "that one looks like a bus," you suggested. "mmm, i think it looks like a log," he responds. "that one looks like a cat." "i think it looks like a log." "ok, that one looks like a tree." "mmmmmmm i think it looks like a log," he says again. "yuuji, you think all of them look like logs," you say. you can feel his laugh bubbling in his chest as he says, "because all of them do look like logs." he points up at the sky at different clouds, "that one does....and that one does....i think these are actually all logs in disguise." you playfully swat his hand and turn your head up at him, saying, "you need to use your imagination a bit. if you're only looking for logs, all you're going to find is logs."

instead of responding, itadori shifts forward and captures your mouth in soft kiss. you respond, pushing your lips against his in a sweet dance. his tongue finds its way into your mouth, deepening the kiss. his hand has slipped out of yours and now is on the small of your back, pushing you closer into him. he smiles into the kiss, pausing. "what?" you ask, temporarily affixing your head above his. "nothing," he responds, "i just hope we can stay like this for a little while longer."

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fushiguro megumi - he's is nursing a cup of black tea in a porcelain cup and saucer, while he chews on a black ballpoint pen. fushiguro is in a cafe across the street, but you can see him through the window. as you walk in, the bell above the door jingles and he glances up at you. he smiles and clears a pile of papers, making room for you at the table. you sit down across from him, noticing that he's already ordered a cup of tea and a croissant for you.

"hey 'gumi. what'cha up to?" you ask, lifting the cup to your lips. "working on this latest batch, but it's tough. did you bring your stuff?" he asks. you pull out a small notebook, untying the ribbon that holds the pages shut. "of course i did, i want your feedback on my latest poems," you respond. "this is the most recent one i wrote." in the garden of my mind/you sink my heart into my soul/blooming into something unknown/glassy eyes speaking of that garden untold is what you hand to him. he furrows his brow as he reads over the lines, once, twice, three....ohmygod how many times is he going to read it? is it bad??? you catch your lip between your teeth as you wait for his critiques, anxiously tapping your fingers against the table. finally, he looks up to you. "i like the use of garden as a metaphor, but i think you could expand on it more. it's a short poem so i know you don't have much room, but i'm really fixed on this idea of a garden. what grows there? who takes care of it?" he questions. his brows is still furrowed and you can practically see the wheels turning behind his poofy hair.

you smile over at him saying, "well, megumi i think you already know the answer to your questions." he blushes and looks out the window. the wheels are turning in his head again, but for a different reason. you know fushiguro isn't exactly the greatest with his feelings, so you give him a minute. he still gets flustered when you even allude to loving him, it's so removed from his own view of himself that he needs to take a minute to process. in the meantime, you rip off a fluffy piece of croissant and feel the buttery layers melt on your tongue. you look out the window, quietly drifting off to another world. "did you want to read my poem?" he asks, snapping you back to reality. you nod, picking up the piece of paper he passes you. your eyes focus on the first line: i love you.

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kugisaki nobara - you love nobara, you honestly do, but sometimes you forget about that when she gets in a yelling match with the man at the ice cream truck. you're pulling your hat over your head, hoping to spontaneously melt into a puddle while the two of them go back and forth. "i don't know what you want me to say! i'm sorry i gave the wrong flavor to them, but i can't change it," the vendor says exasperatedly. nobara wrinkles up her nose in disgust at the vendor, retorting, "this business is absolutely shameful. i come all the way here for ice cream, and you can't even properly fulfill my order. what if i reported you to the better business bureau? hmmm? would you be a bit more cooperative then?"

yeah, it's been going on like this for a few minutes. you think you're going to evaporate into thin air when you realize the arguing has stopped and nobara is on her way back. and...omg...she's holding a mint chocolate chip ice cream cone!! you immediately perk up. "you got it!" you exclaim, quickly taking the cone from her. you take a bite (do you bite ice cream???? lick??? v unsure), and faux-swoon at how good it is. forgetting your previous embarrassment, you swiftly press a kiss to nobara's lips as a thank-you. "thank you nobara, this was so sweet of you!" her face deeply reddens, every ounce of toughness from the earlier altercation dissipated. she tosses her hair, trying to play it off. "oh, you know, it wasn't difficult. you just had to ask nicely." you smile at her, suddenly wanting to pay her back for the embarrassment she dealt you before.

before she can react, you quickly leave a flurry of kisses all over her face. you zing from her cheeks to her nose to her lips to her forehead and back around so fast it makes her dizzy. if you thought she was red before, she's somehow gone an even deeper shade of brick. now she's the one pulling her hat down over her head. "y/n!! cut it out, we're in public!" she hisses at you, but there's no real venom behind it. "sorry, i couldn't help it. you just looked too pretty to resist," you say, and start walking toward the city. even through the brim of her hat, nobara can see you walking away. before catching up, she's rooted in place wondering how on earth she got so lucky.

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zenin maki - "y/n, i look stupid. can i take this off?" you smile at her, only your head sticking out from your door. "nope!!," you gleefully respond. maki stands outside your room with an annoyed look and crossed arms, wearing the maid outfit you dropped off at her house this morning. you quickly close the door and speedily drag your socks up your thighs and tuck the matching headband into your hair. admiring yourself in the mirror one last time, you opened the door and shyly step out in your own maid outfit. "how do i look?," you say, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

maki.pdf has crashed. her eyes flick up and down your body, a slight blush forming on her pearlescent cheeks. you note her silence and flounce over to her. tucking your hands behind your back and rocking on your heels, you lean forward. "maaaaaaaaki," you languish in her name, dragging out the syllables. "cat got your tongue?" she snaps back to the real world, a coy smile on her lips. she moves swiftly, and before you know it she's pressed up against you with a hand on your lower back and the other hand tilting your chin up at her. "of course not, darling, but i wouldn't mind getting yours," she says, gently stroking her thumb over your lips. you momentarily flush, a pretty pink haze spreading over your face. you wiggle out of her hold and kiss the tip of her nose, before dashing down the hallway.

confused, maki watches as you return with...a broom. "c'mon! maids clean, don't they?" you say as you hand her the broom. maki bemusedly watches as you pull out a rag and a can of pledge. "y/n. you called me here, with a maid outfit, so we could clean your house?" she ask. "yep!". oh my. maki watches as you spray chemicals over the table, then polish it clean with the rag. fuck it, she starts sweeping your hallway. "am i even going to get anything out of this?", whining, she stops sweeping. you pause and smile. "of course maki. after all, i have to pay you for your services." maki smirks at you, resting her hands and head on top of the broom. "oh? and what would that be?" she says, raising her eyebrows. "anything you want." maki's smirk deepens, and she goes back to sweeping. "and if i want you?" you too go back to your cleaning. "well, in that case, i suppose you have to do a really good job of cleaning."

your house has never looked cleaner.

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inumaki toge - you dip your paintbrush into the water, swirling it around and making sure it was clean before dipping it into bubblegum-colored paint. inumaki sits on the other side of you, though part of him is obscured by his easel. you would have asked him to move a few hours ago, but luckily you were almost done painting him. the sun was starting to set, so the colors of the setting were changing a bit but you were sure inumaki wouldn't care too much if you took some artistic liberties. you added the pink streaks in the clouds, trying to fluff them up as much as possible and make them look sweet. you frowned as you went a bit too far, having to clean your paintbrush and then touch up the painting with white.

finally, a few more mistakes and fixes later, you think you're satisfied with your work. it was a portrait of inumaki, sitting on his artist's stool with the blue sky and green hill in the background. a few hours ago it would have been an almost perfect rendering of the scene, save for the fact that you decided to paint him without his trademark collar over his face. you happened to love the seal on his face and tongue, but his covering of it made him more insecure about it as time went on. as he got used to seeing his face without it, he wondered if it would just be better if he didn't have a seal on his face at all. now he barely pulls down his collar, only ever to shout out cursed speech commands. "toge can we see each others' paintings now?" you ask. "okaka!" he responds. you sigh and say, "okay, let me know when you're done." you continue to add a few more cursory details until you hear "takana!" from the other easel. you poke your head around, asking, "do you want me to go first?" inumaki nods, and gets up.

you hold your breath as he walks over to survey your work. you feel him stop behind you and just...stare. no tsunamayo, no sujiko, not even an okaka. "what do you think?" you ask. he says nothing, and just points to his painted mouth. you look at him and feel a little bit crushed; he doesn't look angry or anything, but rather a little deflated. "are you upset i painted the curse seal?" you ask him. he responds with a slightly desolate "okaka" and your chest clutches a little bit. you wanted to show him how pretty he was with the seal, but you supposed you would have to go a bit further. "toge can you come a little closer?" he complies and moves right next to you. you quickly jump off the stool and clasp his face in your hands. slowly, you pull down his collar, revealing the seal. you hold his gaze for a moment longer, and then gently press kisses along the surface of the curse. you make sure to touch every angle, feeling the heat of his skin rise each new time your lips touch the curse. you pull your head back and say, "i think the curse seal is pretty. the way it curves along your cheek is just gorgeous, it's such a rich shade of black, and it looks the best when i see you smile. but most of all, you make it look pretty. i like the curse seal because it's a part of you." inumaki softly smiles when he hears this, and just wraps you up into a hug. you two stay like that for a minute or two, interrupted only by "can i see your painting of me now?" "shake."

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nanami kento - you two are at home in the kitchen. normally you both take turns cooking and cleaning, but tonight you decided to make dinner together. nanami is cutting up vegetables for your curry, while you focus on cooking the chicken in the sauce. soft music plays while a delicious aroma fills the room. nanami finishes cutting up the vegetables, neatly zooshing them into the pan with the knife. you add coconut milk and spices, stirring as the sizzling gets loud, and then gently recedes into a soft bubbling. you watch the pan carefully as nanami shifts behind you, wrapping his arms around your front. his face rests on your shoulder as you both watch the pan bubble away.

he gently bites your ear, asking, "how was your day?". your hand comes up to rest on his cheek, sighing contently. "fine. i was a bit busy, but nothing out of the ordinary. how was yours?". nanami sighs, the air lusciously dancing around your ear. "mmmmmm...annoying. or, more aptly, gojou was." you laugh, imaging all the ways the he could have been a nuisance. "is that so?," you say. "yes, but i don't want to dwell on it. work is work, and i'd rather focus on my time outside of it," nanami says. "like focusing on you," he breathes into your ear. he gently spins you around so that you're facing him, and pulls you closer to his body. he wraps his arms around your back, and you wrap your arms around his neck. you two begin to softly dance to the music, not even moving from the spot you're currently in. it's not perfect dancing by any standards; in fact, you think you're off-beat. still, with nanami humming in your ear and such a comforting aura surrounding you, you don't really think it matters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

gojou satoru - for once, you two aren't running around and acting crazy. instead, you've just woken up to rain pattering on the window and cloudy skies overhead. gojou is still asleep in bed, blindfold slipped over his face with his closed eyes revealed to the world. you smile, enjoying the sight. it's not often you two get time to just be together, with gojou being gone all the time, his students needing his attention, and your own life and responsibilities. you slip out of the room and into the kitchen, cutting up fruit and making coffee. you bring it back into the room, the smell waking up your drowsy boyfriend. crystalline eyes look up at you, filled with love and adoration. you sit on the bed as he sits up, passing him a plate and a mug.

"hey, i just had the craziest dream," he says, mouth full of raspberries. "oh? would you like to tell me about it?," you respond, sipping your coffee. gojou smirks at you. "well, normally i would say to never tell a bad dream before breakfast because that's the surest way to make it come true, but i don't believe in that, and anyways i could kick the dream curse's ass if it came to it. so, itadori is a woman, and sukuna keeps taking over to play with boobs, right?". he rambles on, and you think he's actually making some of this up on the fly, but it's entertaining and you don't want to interrupt him. he tells you the whole story, and by the end you've both finished your breakfast. you're still laughing at the part where inumaki is left at the alter by nobara chasing after maki, when he picks up your plate and mug and places it on the little table beside the bed.

"satoru, what are you-," you're interrupted as he swiftly pulls you into his lap, your back flush against his chest. confused, he hands you the book on the side table while he picks up a stack of reports. he opens them and starts reading, while you look at him in confusion. he apprehensively pauses and looks at you. "we don't get to have a lot of quiet time like this," he hesitantly explains, "so i thought we could just do something with each other, even if it's just reading. i have to read these reports and you wanted to finish that book anyway, so i thought we could start like this." he smiles down at you, and it's like he shoots warmth straight into your chest and fans it out to the tips of your fingers, toes, and eyelashes. you ghost his cheek with a kiss and burrow into his chest. "of course, 'toru. this is absolutely perfect." you feel his chest skip a beat through your skin, and try to hid your smile. you open your book while he resumes his reports, and bask in the comfort of shared love.

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 18

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised.

Rated mature for a reason. Although this chapter is all fluff.

With one last glance in the mirror, Lucy eyed herself closely in the reflection. Her eyes followed the movement of her manicured hand slowly drifting down the length of the lacy bodice, smoothing over a few creases in the skirt before finally resting under her bump. She studied the silk material carefully, appreciating the way it flowed off of her curvaceous body and delicately trailed along the floor behind.

It was beautiful, unlike the enormous meringue-like frock her friends had so graciously picked out for her. Gone were the days of wearing intricately designed, overly priced, princess dresses that left little room to move, let alone breathe. No, the one she'd picked out was much more flattering, less poofy, and delicately sat in just the right places. It clung to her every curve and emphasised all the parts Lucy liked about her body, whilst also accommodating her growing bump. Her silky blonde hair had been loosely pulled back and curled, decorated with small gem encrusted pins throughout. And her make up had been left minimal, giving her a simple but elegant finish—the look she favoured nowadays.

Her hand began rubbing small circles were it lay, a recent thing she found herself doing, a comfort to her racing heart as it pulsated through her body, echoing the erratic movements of her unborn baby.

She was anxious; who wouldn't be? But she knew that her guild mates would never allow such a day to go badly, they'd all put too much effort into planning it to allow for such folly.

As for Natsu… well, the boy didn't know what'd hit him once the guild found out. He had no idea what getting married really entailed, and figured, like she, it would happen much further into the future than it had. Their friends, however, had given them little choice in the matter, and within a month of the proposal, she was standing in her dream wedding dress about to make that lifelong commitment to the man just as clueless as she was.

In some ways, it all seemed rather convenient. If Lucy didn't know any better, she would've put her fateful coupling down to destiny, but those were the delusions of a small child who'd grown up alone in a big mansion, destined to marry some self important aristocrat and play housewife for his money.

A different life entirely.

Her meeting Natsu had changed all that; he'd opened her eyes to what life could really offer. She'd concluded, after many years as a member of Fairy Tail, that destiny really could be burned to ashes, that fate stood no chance against the likes of her friends, and that she was no different. It had been her choices that'd lead her down this path, and that she had always been in charge of her own future.

So getting married was no longer some massive event that held such great importance in her life, for she had found her true happiness. Married or not, her feelings towards the dragon slayer would never change, her heart belonged solely to him and had done for much longer than she'd ever admit to.

Instead, the wedding would be used a day of celebrating their long lasting friendship, their deep bond and most importantly, the love they'd shared so unconditionally for one another. They'd been through so much together; the pain and heart ache; the cheer and laughter and everything in between; every memory was precious and every moment from now on, even more so.

The longer she thought about it all, the more her eyes began to prickle with unshed tears, threatening to streak down her powdered skin, "Ugh… Stupid feelings..." She whispered, using her finger to wipe up the wetness.

"Aw, Lucy, you don't have to cry! Save it for the actual ceremony, you'll ruin your make up otherwise." Levy was quick to take out a clean tissue, dabbing away at her friends eyes whilst trying not to ruin her masterpiece. "Thank goodness for waterproof mascara, huh?"

"Sorry Levy, I don't know what came over me." She just couldn't understand it; where had all these emotions come from? "It must be my hormones…"

"Nope, I'm pretty sure it's because you're about to get married, Lucy. I imagine lot's of bride's get a little teary on their wedding day." Mira began, offering some words of encouragement. "And besides, Natsu will be just as emotional, I bet."

If memory served correctly, Natsu would be, no doubt, still in his boxers, piling food into his face alongside Happy and Haru, with not a care in the world. It was just a gut feeling, but somehow, Lucy was pretty sure their morning had gone very differently to hers. "Hmm… I don't know. Are we even talking about the same person here? I mean he's probably not even dressed yet."

Mira chuckled lightly, although Lucy saw right through it. She knew that if her words were true, the barmaid wouldn't hesitate to go full Satan-soul on the slayer's ass, ripping him a new one. But the woman said nothing more about it as she reached up to place the veil atop of Lucy's head, before standing back to marvel at the beautiful bride, "There. I have to say, Natsu's one lucky guy! You look good enough to eat, Lucy!"

"Um… thanks, Mira." Blushing, Lucy turned away embarrassed, knowing exactly what the take over mage was inferring, "How much longer until we're ready?"

"Twenty minutes. So we need to pick up the pace or we'll be late." Erza's thunderous tone came sharply from the doorway as she entered the room, her athletic body filling her own, full length dress out in ways Lucy felt slightly envious of. "And the bride shall not be late to her own wedding. We've all waited far too long for it to be ruined now."

Lucy chose to ignore that last bit, never one to dwell on what her guild mates inevitably spoke about behind her and Natsu's back. She quickly put her heeled shoes on and made her way to the door, "Is Anna here yet? She's supposed to be walking me down the aisle."

One of the few decisions Lucy had been allowed to make about her wedding day was who she wanted walking her down the aisle. In replacement of her mother and as someone who meant a lot to both her and Natsu, Anna had been the perfect choice that no one could really argue with.

"I'm here, Lucy!" Anna called, waving her hand as she entered the room, awestruck by how radiant the bride looked in her glistening gown, "Wow! Don't you look stunning! Then again, the Heartfilia gene has yet to fail us." She winked and smiled, "Let's hope this baby follows the same path, hmm?"

Chuckling, Lucy smiled for the first time that morning, feeling a sense of comfort and relief with Anna around. She shared the same kind disposition and caring nature her mother once had; maybe it was a Heartfilia thing? But if Lucy closed her eyes for just a moment, she could almost trick herself into believing Layla was standing right there with her. Maybe, in some weird way, she was, and that's all the young blonde could hope for.

"Time to go!" Erza bellowed, shooing them all out of the door, "We have a wedding to attend!"

On the other side of town, up on the hill where the small cottage stood, a very different story was unfolding, one of complete bedlam, and no one, not even Lucy, should've expected any different.

"Dammit! Why do I have to wear this ridiculous thing anyway?" Natsu grumbled, pulling at the tie around his neck, unhappy that he'd been forced to wear it instead of his beloved scarf. "It's tryin' to choke me, I swear!"

"I don't think it's alive, Natsu…" Happy uttered, having watched his friend battle the urge to destroy the thing for the past ten minutes.

"Yeah, but if it was, I'd totally beat it and burn it to the ground!" Fisting the air in triumph over his imaginary brawl with the inanimate object, the fire breather sniggered.

"You could just burn it now."

The fire mage's smirk turned into an all out evil grin as he went to summon his fire, reaching for the offending material dangling over his shirt.

"Although, I doubt a certain scary lady in armour would be too pleased… Not after everything she went through to get you to wear it in the first place."

And then it all came crashing down again, his need to set fire to it dissipating. He knew better than to go against something Erza had chosen and groaned obnoxiously, throwing his head back onto the pillows in a huff, causing hot smoke to seep from his mouth, "Stupid tie… Stupid Erza…"

Hearing a thump next to him, his eyes rolled to the side, his neck twisting in turn, only to find that Haru had slumped down onto his back as well.

His large blue eyes were fixed on his father's mouth and his lips were pursed slightly as he continued to stare. Then, with a look of determination, he blew with all his might, over and over again in the hopes of forming his own puff of smoke.

Unable to keep his amusement in, Natsu turned over to observe the baby closer, intrigue furrowing his brows and fascination lighting up his face when an untimely idea came to mind.

"Hey Happy, d'ya think Haru might be able to learn magic soon?" He contemplated the thought for a moment as he sat himself up, pulling the little one up with him.

Stopping to think about it, the exceed scrunched his nose up in disbelief, not entirely sure if now was really the time to be having such thoughts, "Really? But he's only just learnt to walk."

"I know, but look at him. He seems to want to." Natsu wasn't sure if he'd even be able to teach him how to breath fire, not without the use of dragon slayer magic and that was off the table. But then again, that wasn't the only thing he could show him. "It'd be kinda cool to see, don't ya think?"

"Uh… I'm not sure now is the time, Natsu… you don't wanna be late." Happy erred on the side of caution, but after one look of his friends scheming face, he was quick to give in, "Then again, it would be pretty cool to see what he does, I guess."

"That's the spirit! We got some time to kill before that Snowflake gets here anyway, so might as well have a little fun." Natsu grinned wickedly, ideas of how to go about it swirling around in his head. "Hey little guy, come 'ere! Daddy's got something to show you!" Igniting his palm, he watched excitedly for Haru's reaction to his magic.

The little boy, although startled at first, stared in wonder at the tiny flame so close to his face, and watched it flicker with the slight movements of his father's hand. It was captivating to be within reach of such burning hot fire, even if he'd seen it so many times before. Although the bright heat was something he so readily associated with Natsu, being this close to it was a first for him, and that made it all the more thrilling.

"Fire!" The child exclaimed, using the springs of the mattress to bob up and down in his excitement.

"Heck yeah, it is! And now that it's just us, we can be awesome fire dragons together, right Haru?" Natsu sniggered like the mischievous imp he was, and brought the kids hand up next to his ignited one.

But after taking one look between his and his father's hands, the little boy pulled away again, a sad expression adorning his sweet face as he stared into his empty palm, "No…" He mumbled, his bottom lip jutting out and his eyes filling with tears, "No!"

"I don't think he understands, Natsu." Happy interjected, not convinced the boy was anywhere near old enough to fully grasp how to handle magic.

"'Course not—not yet anyway. But he will one day, and it's gonna be the best!" The slayer kept his smile as he guided the little boy onto his lap, ruffling his thick hair affectionately to cheer him up again, "Chin up, kiddo! It takes a long time to learn how to wield magic. But with some practice, you'll be the toughest little dragon around, you'll see."

Listening to that calming tone, the child glanced up at his adoring parent, comforted by the big grin that always managed to reach his eyes, a gentle touch that embodied the very bond they shared. The mood was infectious and with a little coaxing, the small boy couldn't keep his lips from curving upwards, brightening the room around them once again.

With newfound courage, he reached his arm back out, placing it near to Natsu and waited expectantly, "Oh, so you do wanna be a dragon, huh? Alright then, but ya gotta give me your best roar first!" Natsu smirked, proud to have taught his son the 'non-magical' version of roaring (aka shouting really loudly) at the very least. And he did just that; at the top of his voice; no encouragement needed, "Whoa! That was super awesome, little guy! Now let's see how you handle this!"

"If you're about to do what I think you're gonna do, then I hope for your sake, Lucy never finds out." Happy warned, not wanting to take any responsibility for what was inevitably about to happen.

"Hey! I'm not stupid enough to burn down my own house. What do you take me for, an idiot?" The answer was yes, but Happy's restraint held strong, knowing he'd be heard even if he'd muttered it under his breath. Natsu, on the other hand, took no heed and brought both hands out this time, taking hold of the chubby little ones waiting for him, "Are ya ready?"

Igniting the flames once more, Haru watched the blazing magic slowly seep onto his fingers, a gentle warmth tingling his flesh, enough to make him flinch as it encased each tiny fist. After a few unsure moments, and the opening and closing of his palms, his blue eyes lit up with a wonderment only children seemed to possess, his very soul shining just as brightly as the flames he'd been gifted.

"Daddy! Daddy, fire!"

Natsu chuckled, as he leant back on the bed, using his now fireless hands to prop himself up, "Haha! I knew you had it in ya! Now you get to be just like a real fire dragon, and as long as you play with it on me, you can't burn anything, either." It was fool proof, he was certain of that. And with the look of sheer astonishment on that cute little face in front of him, Natsu could hardly contain himself.

"Yeah, right! Like you're one to talk…You're the first person to destroy things. It's why we never have any money." It was true and Natsu knew it, but that didn't stop the unimpressed glare he sent Happy's way.

"Why else do you think I put him in my lap?" The slayer tilted his head, his annoyance short lived, "He can't burn me so it's fine, and he's not really wielding fire, it's just pretend." He added, his infamous grin returning, and attention now fully diverted from the child he was supposed to be watching, "They'll go out before long."

"Sure, but, uh… I think Haru may have different ideas…" The exceed said, quietly gesturing to the boy in his lap.

"Huh? How so?" The fire mage asked, but by the time he'd turned around to see, it was already too late, "Haru!"

With one touch from the child's fingers, the fire caught on to the covers they were sitting on and spread like a fuse to a bomb.

"Get out of the way!" It lit up the entire bed in a flash, giving Natsu only seconds to get Haru off of it in time before they both landed in heaps on the floor.

It'd gone up so quickly; such was the destructive nature of those flames, and now his and Lucy's bed, the very bed they slept in every night, was a pile of smoking ash on the floor, the fire extinguished along with it.

Silence. All that could be heard was the silence…

"I… I-I'm dead… I'm so dead…" The dragon slayer's voice was barely a whisper, and his horrified expression said it all. The crushing weight of impending doom loomed over him and no amount of blinking was going to bring back their disintegrated bed, no matter how hard he tried.

What was he going to do? He'd been in control of the situation; he had a plan and it was fool proof. Not a few seconds he'd peeled his sights away from the child—just a few damn seconds and now...

And what about Lucy? She'd be furious, no… outraged by it all! He'd be seeing her in less than thirty minutes from now; how could he look her in the eyes, say their vows, then tell her she'd be sleeping on the couch?! That was a conversation that ended badly no matter what way he looked at it.

"You were saying?" Happy teased, covering his mouth with his paw, the rare look of mortification on his friend's face was priceless.

"Lucy's going to kill me!" His gaping sockets could barely keep his eyeballs from falling out, and his mouth hung low enough he could almost lick the ash off the ground.

"Daddy fire! Daddy fire!" Haru cheered, clapping his hands together while laughing, unaware of the chaos he'd unleashed, seemingly impressed with himself.

"Y-Yeah..." The young man slumped back against the dressing table, the feeling of dread taking over him the more he played out in his mind how he was going to tell his new, and very pregnant wife of the unfortunate news, giving him zero hope for survival, "You're gonna be the end of me, kid!"

"Like father, like son!" It was all too funny for the little exceed, who was attempting, but failing, to stop the flow of cackles escaping his mouth.

"Hey! Stop laughing would ya! It's not funny!" Natsu snapped, the sound of Happy busting his guts slowly grinding away at him.

"But it is! You should've seen your face! Shame Reedus wasn't here to draw the picture!" Happy continued to shriek with laughter, infecting little Haru as well.

"Not you, too!" Natsu complained, but his voice held no real consequence. After all, it was his idea to let the one year old play with fire, and it would be his sorry ass to own up and take responsibility.

"What the hell is going on in here?!" Startled by the unexpected but familiar voice, the trio of boys twisted their heads to see an out of breath Gray standing in the bedroom doorway.

"Oh, it's you… Don't you know how to knock?" Natsu dead-panned, apparently more annoyed by Gray's intrusion than the burnt bed.

"Never mind about that, I ran all the way here 'cause your house is smoking! What did you do this time, fire breath?" Glad to see everyone was fine, the ice mage sighed in relief that it appeared to be nothing serious.

"Hey! Why do people always assume it's me? Maybe it was Happy?"

"But it was you, Natsu."

"Shh! I'm trying to make a point here!"

"It was obviously you, idiot! You're the only pyro here!" Gray shook his head, hardly believing that this was the guy about to get married. "Anyway, we need to get going, or Erza will have our heads."

"But… but what about the bed?" Natsu whimpered like a child, pointing to where it once stood.

"Wait… You burnt down your own bed?! What is wrong with you, Dragneel?! Of all the days to be a bigger idiot than normal, you pick today?" Gray smacked his palm over his face exasperatedly. He hadn't even noticed that it was the bed that'd been burnt, but now it was clear to see where all the smoke was coming from.

"Come on, numbskull! We don't have time for this!" Grabbing hold of the still-in-shock Natsu by the collar, he used his ice magic to freeze all of the ash lain bare on the floor, effectively halting the smoke and yanked his rival out of the house, determined to get to the cathedral on time, "We'll deal with your stupidity later, but right now, you gotta get married and I'm prepared to drag you all the way there if I have to."

Lucy could feel the blood pulsing in her ears, her hand clutched at her belly as the sickness she'd been suppressing all morning finally reared its ugly head. She felt sticky and clammy from the extra adrenaline coursing its way through her body—and was now an appropriate time to say she needed to pee… again!?

"Take a deep breath and try to relax yourself." She heard Anna whisper into her ear as they both stared at the large cathedral doors. "When you walk down that aisle, remember its only you and Natsu that matters, no one else, okay?"

Giving a shy nod, she inhaled deeply, as if that was going to be her last breath and tried to calm herself down.

"Are you ready?"

Bowing her head once more, Lucy could hear the guests grow silent behind the large doors, the loud creaking signifying they were opening. Planting one heeled foot over the threshold, the blonde looked up to everyone that was waiting for her entrance, and it was in that moment time seemed to stand still.

Among the gasps and gleaming faces; the decorated pews and hard stone floor; hazy, chocolate eyes scoured the ancient hall. There they all were; her friends; her family; every single person that held such importance in her heart. It made her happy, ecstatic even, that this joyous day could be celebrated with the people closest to her, the people that'd accepted her for who she was and nurtured her into the person she was today.

She hadn't even realised she'd stopped breathing until her lungs began to ache, forcing her to inhale a large breath of air as her legs began to slowly, and shakily, walk forwards.

Her dress glimmered in the dim light of the medieval building, capturing the eyes of the crowd, lighting up the very aisle as the long train behind her rippled with each step she took towards the altar.

But nobody, not even the keenest of dragon senses could see the pure beauty the way he did. With heat pooling in his belly, he watched the girl he loved make her way towards him, dazzling as brightly as the stars she wielded. His mouth ran dry, and his heart skipped many beats, making him question whether it was just his imagination. She appeared before him within a blink of an eye, and it was all to easy to just wash the others away.

"She's all yours, Natsu." Anna said, releasing her arm from Lucy's firm hold and winked at them both, gladly stepping back to let them take centre stage.

But neither mage heard her as their eyes connected for the first time, too enraptured by what stood before them, too absorbed in their own little world, and nothing could penetrate it.

"You… You look beautiful, Lucy." Natsu wasn't easy to fluster, but the pink tinge on his cheeks told her she'd succeeded. "Really… really beautiful…"

Her own bashfulness became evident too, her eyes soaking in his glorious form as if she'd been starved of him, "You're looking pretty good yourself, Natsu." She studied him up and down, her gaze becoming hungry for more. It wasn't very often she got to see his exceptionally toned body in something so formal, and she was totally going to make the most of it.

"T-Thanks..."

The playful wink and cute chuckle only served to make the pink on his cheeks grow darker, as if this was the first time she'd ever paid him a compliment.

‘Wasn't Lucy the one that usually reacted like this?’ He wondered, unsure why his face was suddenly feeling so hot.

“Although, I have to say, it’s still a little strange seeing you without your scarf on.” She admitted, unable to take her eyes away from his slender neck. Usually it didn’t come off until he was ready for bed… or other, less innocent things.

"You can thank Erza for that! She stole it from me and made me wear a damn tie instead." His petulant tone had the blonde sniggering into her hand, his instant annoyance enough to quash any tension left between them, "She even made Haru wear one."

Lucy glanced over to where Haru was sat in the crowd, who, although dressed in something entirely impractical for a toddler, was happily waving to his mother with the biggest grin on his face, "Poor guy…" She said, waving back, "He does look super cute in it though."

A loud cough from the front halted them in their tracks, finally breaking them out of their little bubble, "When you're quite finished." A loud voice echoed through the cathedral walls, making both mages stand to attention and face the front like naughty school children.

An older gentleman with a bald head and long beard stood before them, his bushy brows making it hard to see where his wrinkles stopped and his eyes began glared impatiently at the pair, tapping his fingers on the book he held in his hands, "Now, let's begin."

With an exaggerated sigh, his voice traipsed along the pages of his book, an aged tone that said he'd spoken these words all too many times before, had read those same lines, and joined countless lovers together in matrimony over the years. He was practised and poised, an elegant and poetic speaker, able to captivate his audience…

Unless they were Fairy Tail, of course, and more specifically a pink haired, impulsive dragon slayer, who's attention span rivalled that of a five year old. He'd zoned out the moment the old guy had started rambling, too interested in getting to the good bit—eating food and kissing Lucy, obviously.

It all sounded like drivel, mindless, unnecessary drivel, that seemed never ending, and the hall was so deafeningly quiet, which, was unnerving to say the least when trying to distract oneself.

Well, except for one faint noise, that was.

Thanks to his excellent hearing, he could hear little Haru babbling from the pews. He was being ever so quiet about it considering his lack of awareness for what was going on, and the sudden urge to turn around and take a peek at what he was doing seemed almost too much for the fire mage.

With the slightest quirk of his head, he glanced back to see the small boy playing with Happy's tail, minding his own business, perfectly content without him or Lucy there.

Satisfied to see the infant playing so calmly, Natsu went to turn back around again when a loud 'Daddy!' stopped him in his tracks. The small boy, who'd not been aware of his father's peeping only a moment ago, was now trying to scramble over the blue exceed to get to him.

"No Haru, you gotta stay there. Stay with Happy!" The desperate fire mage whispered, pointing to the cat as a sheepish grin took over at the chaos he'd caused. "Daddy will be over in a minute, kay?"

"You're making it worse, Natsu, turn around!" Lucy whispered rather loudly, never looking away from the old man still talking as she leaned in.

"Sorry Luce, but I could hear Haru talking to himself. I just wanted to see what he was doing." Natsu explained, rubbing the back of his head in habit, "Not my fault he caught me looking."

"You looked at him first, of course he was going to notice you." She said a little louder, enough that the people sat closest to them could hear.

And that was all he needed for the small smirk to creep its way onto his lips, "Oh, so you were watching, too?"

"N-No…" She stuttered, giving herself away, "I wasn't…"

"Liar."

"Okay, fine. But why do I have to listen to this and you don't? I'm just as bored as you are." She admitted, her whispers getting louder the more irate she became, "Do you know how many times I've had to keep myself from yawning? And I really need to pee, too!"

As important as she knew this part of the ceremony was, it didn't half drag. Couldn't they just say 'I do' and be done with it already? Who cared about some God when her feet were starting to hurt!?

"Well, aren't you full of surprises… Maybe you should've gone before." He sniggered, knowing exactly how to push her buttons, relishing in the glare that had imminent death written all over it.

“It’s not like I’m carrying your baby or anything…” She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Alright, if your that desperate, I could always make him go faster." His face lit up with the most mischievous grin, igniting a small flame on his pointer finger.

"Natsu! You can’t do that! You’ll get us kicked out!” She rolled her eyes, though she appreciated the sentiment.

"Aw, come on! Not even a little singe?" He pointed his fiery finger towards the man in front of them, edging it slowly closer on purpose, "His brows need taking back a bit, don't you think?"

Lucy chortled at the thought, highly amused by the man's enormous brows being set on fire and couldn't stop the giggles that followed, her restraint finally caving, "Maybe just a little bit!"

"Will you two pay attention and turn to face each other." The old man grumbled, none the wiser to their little inside jokes. "Present the rings."

The blonde continued to chuckle as she turned to face her partner in crime, her steady heart picking up pace a little now that they were staring right at each other.

His unwavering smile and silly behaviour was something she had always admired. His ability to lighten any situation, regardless of how grim it may seem, instantly had her smiling along, too.

"Now, Natsu, please say your vows."

Inhaling a deep breath, the young mage knew he'd never been good with words. Lucy had always been the speaker, the writer, the one able to talk her way out of most situations, and although the vows he'd prepared were not long like sappy love letters or poetic or book worthy, they came from the heart and that's all he could offer her.

"Luce… I gotta admit, I never saw this coming." He chuckled, his hand tangled into the hair at the back of his head, "And I know for sure you didn't either, but that's okay because no matter what happens, we'll always be Natsu and Lucy, and we'll always be partners."

Without looking away, he held her shaky hand and slipped the precious ring onto her finger with ease, her delicate skin soft against his loving warmth.

"I've always known you were special to me, it just took a while to realise how much, I guess… And apparently adopting a kid with your best friend isn't normal, so…" He shrugged nonchalantly, never giving it much thought, but earned a giggle from Lucy in return. "But I knew you'd put your all into being the best Mom you could, just like in everything you do. You're a super kind person with so much love to give, it's why you're so precious to me, and I wanna protect that with everything I've got. So, that's my promise to you, Lucy, I will protect your heart, so long as it continues to beat."

She gasped, feeling the air leave her lungs as if she'd been winded. It was short and to the point but those sweet sounding words of his, the very meaning behind them were enough to make her knees tremble. She stared, mouth agape at the man that stood before her, blown away by his promise, astounded that he'd once again found the perfect things to say.

A few unplanned tears escaped as she looked over to the little boy in the pews, then peered down to her rounded tummy, feeling the butterflies and the baby's movements fluttering around inside. So much had changed, and this would be a whole new chapter to add to their never ending adventure, an overwhelming thought that seemed all too much for her to get to grips with.

Feeling a warm hand cup her cheek she looked up to the sweet smile of her lover, the person that meant everything to her, and felt this fingers wipe away her tears. He always had a way of filling her with encouragement, even, it seemed, with just a single gesture.

"Thank you, Natsu. Now Lucy, you may begin." The old guy uttered, his gruff voice quieter than before.

Placing her free hand over the top of his, she brought them both to rest on her belly, her smile reaching her eyes as the small kicks poked at their skin, making them both chuckle.

"Natsu, there are so many things I could say that I admire about you; I could also find an equal amount of things that annoy me, too." His sudden pout made her giggle once again, along with the rest of the guild members, "But that doesn't matter, because that's the person I fell in love with. You're loyal, brave and strong; your silly, impulsive and like to fool about, but you also bring smiles to everyone around you, an ability that only you seem to possess.

I can't remember how many times you've shown me the light, lifted me up in my time of need and carried me until I could stand on my own two feet. Your presence and comfort has always been my safe place, somewhere I can call home. You're such a beautiful person, and I'm so lucky to be able to call you mine."

Tears began to fill her eyes again, and she was sure his had become a little watery too.

"So, in return for all that you do for me, and us as a family, I promise to play with your hair when your motion sick and rub your back when you eat too much." Natsu's cheeks lifted up to his eyes, scrunching them closed in amusement as she, too, grinned back at him.

"I promise to love you with all of my heart, to lift you up in your time of need and put a smile on your face when your feeling down. I promise to be loyal, brave, and strong for you, too; to fool about and make you laugh, and to always be there to stop you from going overboard.

I'll forever stand proudly at your side, and hold your hand through whatever life throws at us. You've shaped me into the person I am today, and if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have this wonderful life, such amazing friends, or a family to call my own." The tears that welled began to spill down her pink stained cheeks, but the smile that had been there all along never wavered from her lips, "You're my everything, Natsu, and you will be until the day I die."

A single tear drop slowly trickled down and dripped off of his chin as his breath hitched in his throat. As time once again stood still, it felt like he and Lucy were the only ones present; no longer able to see the guild watching their every move, or hear the grumpy old man scold them for not paying attention. Lucy was his sole focus and without waiting for the final lines to be read, the young groom impatiently pulled her in, and welded their lips together in a display of affection that had the crowd wooing and whistling for them in celebration.

"Congratulations to the happy couple!" Mira mewled, throwing confetti and flower petals over the two still very much consumed by one another.

"Can you believe it? After all these years, they're finally married!" Levy squealed in her excitement, deafening poor Gajeel in the process.

"Who'd have thought our boy, Natsu, would've ever settled down?" Wakaba stood from his seat, cigarette at the ready.

"Yep! It seems like only yesterday he was pulling pranks and starting fights with the other youngsters." Macao smirked, his arms crossed cockily over his chest.

"That's because it was yesterday, Dad! Natsu hasn't changed that much…" Romeo shook his head at the two old farts, but smiled when he looked back to his idol, "Then again, he does have a family now. I guess getting married just kinda made sense."

"Nothing they do makes sense, kid. You only have to look at 'em to see that." Laxus spoke from the pew behind, his thunder legion companions sat right along with him.

"Yes, but they have made their pairing work. As a team, they're like clockwork and as a couple, they're impenetrable." Erza's smile brightened her face as she glanced on at the two newly weds, proud of her friends and of how far they'd come.

"Alright guys, let's move this to the guild! I wanna get my booze on and the bar is waiting!" Cana yelled, drink bottle already in hand as she, along with most of the others filtered out of the cathedral, not wanting to spoil the couples moment.

Natsu and Lucy, however, were in a bubble all of their own; where soft, tinted lips met hot, firm ones in a passionate battle that neither wanted to lose. But the need for air was far stronger, forcing them to separate and stare into each others eyes as they caught their breaths.

"You know, you're supposed to wait for me to pronounce you husband and wife before embracing like that." The bushy browed man said from behind the altar, glowering at the couple he had no hope of controlling.

"Oh… uh, sorry about that… Kinda got swept up in the moment." Natsu grinned sheepishly, chuckling to ease the tension, while Lucy just hid herself behind him.

"Hmm… Well it doesn't matter now. What does is that you are legally bound. Good luck to you both."

"Thanks!"

They watched the man take his leave, only then noticing that the hall was empty, "Huh… Where'd everybody go?" The fire mage was sure the hall had been filled just a moment ago.

"So you guys finally came up for air, huh?" Gray walked over, he and Juvia, along with Happy and Haru the only ones left. "Everyone's gone back to the guild to wait instead of watch you both suck face. Seriously, how long can you hold your breath for?"

An oblivious Natsu only shrugged, but a blushing Lucy was quick to hide her face from Gray's knowing smirk, turning the opposite way to where Juvia was standing with the little baby in her arms, and the blonde's face lit up instantly, "Oh, look at him! Isn't he just the sweetest? And he didn't cry once throughout the whole thing! What a little sweetheart!"

"Yes, Juvia is quite surprised herself that he stayed quiet. Juvia can't say he does the same at night though." The water mage chuckled through her tiredness, a look Lucy was all too familiar with, "But Juvia doesn't mind, not when Gray is so willing to get up with him."

"Aww, Daddy Gray to the rescue, huh? And here I thought you were worried about the whole thing. Looks like you're doing just fine to me!" Lucy said, turning her attention to the ice mage standing there.

"Worried? Who said I was-?" And then it clicked, "Natsu! You told Lucy what I said? That was just between us!" Gray turned to the fire mage, who, had since recovered his own son from the pews, walking him back to where they were all standing.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I only told Lucy, duh!"

"Don't 'duh' me, you weren't supposed to tell anybody, and that includes Lucy!" If he could've smacked his head on a wall, he would've… Or better yet, smack Natsu's!

"But I tell Lucy everything…"

"Oh, you do, do you? That's funny, because I'm certain there's something you haven't told her yet, right?" The look of fear that flashed across Natsu's face was enough to make the ice mage drop his annoyance in favour of revenge.

"Not told me what? Did something happen?" Lucy cocked her head as she looked up from the cooing baby, her sights flickering between the squabbling duo scowling at each other.

"Should I tell her, Natsu?" Gray's smirk was almost sickening, his own pleasure outweighing the consequences.

"Don't you dare, Popsicle!" The fire mage bit out through gritted teeth, "Or I'll rearrange your face with my fist!" If looks could kill…

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" The curious look on Lucy's face quickly turned to frustration the longer she was kept waiting, "Natsu?" Slowly she traipsed her way over, backing him against the rows of benches.

"Uh oh! Looks like hell is about to break loose..." Happy sniggered from his perch on the altar, high fiving Haru as he began to giggle, too.

"Oh dear… You may have started something there, Gray dear." Juvia said, passing the sleepy newborn over to his father.

"Nah! Natsu had this one coming." He sniggered, shushing the baby back to sleep.

A vein popping on her forehead, Lucy's irritation had just about reached breaking point, "Speak!"

Swallowing thickly, the young man looked up to his very new, very pregnant wife, just like he knew he'd have to and wished momentarily that the ground would swallow him whole, "Well… Uh… I-It's kind of… Um…" What was he supposed to say? "I-I was playing with Haru this morning and, u-uh, stuff happened and our bed is now… gone."

Raising a brow, the girl looked even more confused, "Gone? What do you mean, it's gone?"

"Gone… As in it was there… and now its not." He really wasn't doing himself any favours.

"Natsu..."

"Happy did it!" He panicked.

"Hey! No I didn't, you burnt it! You let Haru play with your fire, not me! I warned you it would end badly, but you wouldn't listen and now-"

"You did what?!" Her eyes were blood red as she glared at the suspecting dragon slayer, her hair reminiscent of a certain Satan soul mage. “You burnt down our bed?!”

It was in times like this he was glad that she couldn't out run him, especially not at the moment, as he pegged it for the exit.

"Natsu Dragneel! Just you wait 'til I get my hands on you!"

Her yelling from behind reminded him of all the times he'd found himself in this exact predicament, whether it be from destroying a building or their bed, it brought a smile to his lips at just how familiar it all felt. It seemed as their evolving relationship and family changed and grew, his vows rang true, they would always be Natsu and Lucy, and that would forever be the same.

With one solid push of the large cathedral doors, he opened them wide, allowing the natural afternoon light seep into the old walls. Readjusting the boy in his arms, and with Happy flying over head, he chanced a small glance back at his livid wife stalking her way over to him, and grinned mischievously, sealing his already doomed fate with his final words, "Come on then, Luce! But you'll have to catch me first!"

Thanks for reading! 

[thewriterowl]

Din with a daughter, Din with a daughter, Din with a daughter, Din with a daughter, Din with a daughter, Din with a daughter, Din with a daughter (Rey) any headcanons dear Owl? 👀👀

LOL yep. Din with a daughter, indeed.

So Din would try his best to not be "that dad" with his daughter. He'll be just as protective over her as he is with Grogu. Most Mandalorian women can kick his ass. Rey will be no different. She will be strong, capable, smart, both Jedi and Mandalorian like her big brother. He is not "that dad".

He's "that dad."

Rey cannot date until she is eighteen, she can't have a boyfriend ever (luckily, she probably is not interested in guys lol), cannot wear revealing outfits, needs to know how to break a person's jaw, throat and groin, should never trust anyone (especially boys), etc.

Luke is just giving him a deadpanned Luke and tells Rey she can date whoever she wants at fourteen, but she needs to introduce them to her fathers. She should feel no pressure to date or do anything or be romantic either. She can ignore her buir about romance for now, he's just being an overprotective idiot. He'll cool down once the twitch passes.

Din dislikes Poe. He's too old for Rey.

Luke has to pinch his ear and drags him away saying they're just friends and to leave their daughter alone.

Din held Rey the most. Luke would have to give his husband a look to say it was his turn to hold the daughter he gave birth to. It finally becomes to the point that Luke has to tell Din he has to let her use her feet so she can learn to walk.

Din counts her fingers and toes every day.

Rey loves her Buir's beard, especially when she is a toddler, so he'd rub it on her belly and she'd squeal and giggle and coo with happiness. Her chubby hands trying to grasp at it.

Her cheeks dimple like Luke's and when she first smiled, showing she inherited Luke's smile, Din probably cried...again.

Her first word was "Bur." Yes, Din was probably near inconsolable after that.

Much like his son, he probably tries to have her do electrical engineering bit too early. She probably tries to chew on wires. But she starts to pick it up really quick later.

Rey, much like her big brother, is an escape artist. The first time he found her out of her crib and hiding under Grogu's bed, playing with toys, he very nearly had a heart-attack.

Din does not sense Rey or Grogu like Luke can. So he is always terrified about where they are and what they're doing. Luke is just calmly drinking hot chocolate, mug floating, reading a Jedi text, knowing the siblings are actually on the ceiling giggling. He just has his own Force extended to catch them when they fall (cause he is almost all powerful and is so strong he is practically there with them as they float--he wants them to get stronger and more confident with the Force).

When Din walks into the room and sees them, he screams.

Neither Luke nor Din are much for fancy clothes (even Luke who wears very nice things but does not have a full closet of it; and its always simple). Rey...she is in the cutest outfits money can buy (Luke does get in on this too). She has an Ewok onesie, big poofy dresses she waddles in, gets her hair done like a princess probably how a crown (really Din? "SHE'S THE KING'S DAUGHTER! SHE NEEDS ONE!"), little Jedi garments, dress-up costumes, etc. She has a winter hat of an Ewok (so teddy bear ears) and her brother has a winter hat of a Loth cat (kitty ears--they fit his own big ears).

Luke and Din nearly keel over from how cute the siblings look when they match like that.

Her and Grogu's shared room is over-flowing with toys. Like, literally...overflowing. They bury themselves in the mountain of stuffed toys often and hide there as their own club houses (daddies aren't allowed unless they have the password...or it's snack time)

Rey starts her Mandalorian and Jedi training at the same time. She picks it up fast. She learns from her Buir on how to use a staff. She loves hitting things with it.

She hit uncle Han on the nose once. Din gave her a chocolate for that.

Rey is very wild. Luke encourages it. Din pleads with her to please stop jumping off buildings because it gives Buir heart-problems. She sometimes looks at him straight in the eyes, grins like the devil she is, and then does it.

Luke talks firmly to her to not scare her Buir. But then gives her a chocolate cause that was rad.

She knows she can ask anything of Din and she'll get it. Luke tries to get her to not abuse her power so much...she is still just far too invested in getting a space-pony and knows if she makes her eyes water her Buir will get it for her.

Luke tells Din to hold strong and learn to say no to his princess from time to time.

Din tries.

Din fails.

Rey curses like Luke. but she gets fluent in Mando'a and learns to say all the words to insult an opponent.

she will come at your face like a spider-monkey. It makes her dads very proud.

Din probably still glares at every boy that comes her way...girls are ok though.

[yeah-all-of-it]

“Hey, sleepyhead! Get up! Busy day!” Ian calls from the bathroom.

He hears a grumpy, incoherent groan come from somewhere underneath the pile of blankets on the bed. After he finishes fixing his hair, he walks over to the bed. He perches himself gently on the edge, slowly sliding his hand underneath the bright white, high thread count duvet, a housewarming gift they had treated themselves to several months ago along with a new mattress and some sheets. After having to bang in walk-in coolers and dugouts and sleep on old mattresses and prison bunks for years, they wanted their bed to be a haven.

He has to feel around but Ian finally finds the waistband of Mickey’s boxers, and slips his hand in. This elicits a more pleasant groan from the pile of blankets.

Ian leans down and whispers softly, “We don’t have time now since someone decided to sleep in so long, but if you get up now, I promise I’ll make it worth your while later.”

“Ugh, fine,” Mickey grumbles, throwing off the covers and rolling out of bed. He stumbles to the bathroom, still half asleep, and shuts the door. Ian continues getting ready as he hears Mickey’s usual morning ritual; taking a piss, washing his face, brushing his teeth. He emerges from the bathroom several minutes later, decidedly more alert, and stops dead in his tracks.

There, standing in front of the full length mirror affixed to the back of the bedroom door, is his husband. He is dressed in a navy blue suit that looks like it was crafted just for his body. A slim fit jacket that enhances his broad shoulders and hugs his muscular arms. Slim leg trousers that show off his perfect ass, still deliciously thick from a few remaining quarantine pounds. Underneath the jacket is a crisp white dress shirt with a burgundy tie, and he has a pair of wing tips the color of caramel on his feet. He has put some gel in his red hair, not losing his curls, but styling them a bit more than normal. In short, he looks fucking incredible.

Once Mickey is able to breathe again, he manages to get out a flirty, “Hey there, Mr. Milkovich,” while very blatantly panning his eyes up and down Ian’s body.

Ian glances up at his husband, standing there in nothing but his ratty boxers, and grins at him.

“See somethin’ you like?” Ian inquires.

Mickey nods his head and smiles that million watt smile of his.

“C’mere.”

Mickey does as instructed and saunters over to Ian, who wraps Mickey tight in his arms and presses a kiss onto his mouth, gently sucking on Mickey’s lower lip. He lets his hands wander aimlessly all over Mickey’s bare back and Mickey melts into him with a soft “hmmmm”.

“Okay okay okay,” Mickey finally interjects, and pulls away. “You’re turnin’ me the fuck on and unless you want that fancy fuckin’ suit ripped off’a you right now, we gotta stop.”

Ian steps back and holds up both hands in mock surrender.

He then walks over to the dresser to grab his wallet and phone. “Mick, you got about forty five minutes to get ready before we have to leave.” He kisses Mickey on the cheek and steps out of the bedroom door, yelling from the hallway, “I’ll brew some coffee and we can take it with us. Lip will kill me if we’re late for his wedding.”

Forty minutes later, Mickey walks out into the living room where Ian is waiting on the sofa, playing some stupid game on his phone. He has poured two travel mugs of coffee that are in front of him on the coffee table. He looks up when he hears Mickey enter the room.

Mickey has on a modern dark gray suit, black dress shirt, black tie, and black wing tips. He’s gelled his jet black hair and it harkens back to years ago, when he was younger and wore his hair gelled every day. His brushed white gold wedding band gleams in the sunlight coming in from the window as he reaches up to adjust his tie. His bright blue eyes pop against the dark color of the suit. Ian sets his phone down and stands up slowly, unable to take his eyes off of his husband.

“Hell-o, Mr. Gallagher,” Ian purrs, while strutting up to Mickey, placing his hands on either side of his freshly shaven face. He slides his hands down Mickey’s arms and buries his nose in the crook of his neck, breathing in deeply. He smells of shampoo and Irish Spring soap, fresh from the shower, not yet tainted by the scent of cigarette smoke. He kisses Mickey’s neck gently, sighs, and reluctantly pulls away.

“We have to leave right now if we plan on being at the church by noon for the first round of pictures,” Ian states, double checking his watch.

“Alright, well let’s get goin’, GQ,” Mickey says with a sly grin and a quick raise of his eyebrows, grabbing his coffee on the way out.

Ian’s close behind and smacks Mickey on the ass before closing the door behind them.

———

“You’re early! I’m so fuckin’ proud!” Lip exclaims as the Gallagher-Milkoviches walk into the church.

He steps up to Ian and gives him a tight hug with a firm pat on the back; actually shakes Mickey’s hand. “Hey, you shitheads clean up pretty nice!”

Ian and Mickey both give him synchronized middle fingers.

“Uncle Mickey! Uncle Ian!” Franny yells and runs up to them, jumping into Mickey’s arms. She’s wearing a burgundy sparkly dress with a poofy tulle skirt and gold Doc Martens.

“Hey, kid!” Mickey says sweetly, swinging the tiny girl into the air, causing her to squeal with delight.

“Franny, you look beautiful!” Ian says to her once Mickey has set her down. “I love your dress!”

“It’s like the one I wore when you married Uncle Mickey!” she chirps cheerfully.

“It sure is!” Ian exclaims, giving her a big hug.

“Hey, Lip, where’s the newest little Gallagher?” Ian inquires. “Gotta get some snuggles in before things get busy.”

“She’s right over here, man. Tami’s got her. She’s gotta go get dressed anyway. Come on.”

Ian walks with Lip over to Tami, who is holding a snuggly baby in her arms, dressed in a soft cotton burgundy colored dress and a white cardigan, with little gold moccasins on her feet. Tami gives Ian a big hug and passes the baby off to him before heading elsewhere to put her gown on.

“Hey, there Sophie Gallagher. Uncle Ian missed you!” he coos. “I can’t believe you are three whole months old! And your mommy and daddy are getting married today!”

He glances up and sees Mickey standing off to the side, looking at Ian holding the baby with nothing but love in his eyes. Ian can’t wait to have kids with Mickey, but there is no pressure. They’ll get there one day. Right now they’re just enjoying being husbands and uncles. Mickey’s still nervous around babies, but Franny and Fred adore him.

“Okay okay, my turn!” Debbie interjects. She carefully takes Sophie from Ian and goes to sit down.

Ian spots Fred and heads over to him. “Freddie, my man, what’s up!” he says and picks up the toddler in the matching tiny blue suit who wraps his arms around Ian’s neck, saying, “Hewwo, Uncle Een!” in his sweet little voice. “Where’s Uncle Mickey?”

“He’s right over there. You wanna go tickle him?” Ian asks playfully.

“Yeah! Wet’s go!” They run over and wrap Mickey in a big bear hug. The tough guy can’t help but melt into a big puddle around his nieces and nephew.

“Hey, buddy!” Mickey exclaims, laughing at Fred’s small fingers tickling his sides.

Typical Gallagher chaos is happening. Liam is trying fruitlessly to convince Franny to go potty before things start. Debbie and Lip are arguing about something, as usual. Carl can’t find his suit jacket.

“Alright, we’ve gotta get this show on the road, people!” the photographer yells over the noise.

The photographer attempts to line up the bridesmaids - a couple of Tami’s childhood friends, Debbie, and Cami as the maid of honor, all dressed in burgundy chiffon floor length gowns. Debbie continues to gripe at Lip from her spot in line.

He then tries to get all the boys to line up - Ian, who is the best man, Brad, Carl, and Liam the groomsmen. The photographer has to shoot Ian a look as he puts Carl in a headlock when they are supposed to be lining up.

“Sorry!” Ian yells, straightening his suit and stepping into place.

Rounding up Franny and Fred and getting them to stand still proves to be easier than getting the adults to cooperate.

Mickey just sits back and watches the Gallagher shitshow with a huge grin on his face.

———

“You ready to do this, big brother?” Ian asks while standing in the hallway behind the sanctuary. The faint sound of people finding their seats and conversing quietly fills the air around them.

“Absolutely. Tami’s a good woman, ya know? She calls me on my bullshit, which is something I really need. She’s fuckin’ beautiful and she’s an amazing mom to Fred and Sophie. I’m really fuckin’ lucky, man,” Lip says, and Ian thinks he sees tears forming in Lip’s eyes. “I love her.”

Ian just smiles. “Soft motherfucker,” he jokes quietly and wraps his big brother in a hug, squeezing the back of his neck.

They hear the wedding march begin and know it’s their cue to step out into the sanctuary.

As they stand at the front of the church, the doors open and reveal Tami on the arm of her father, wearing a white beaded gown. It’s strapless and form fitting til it gets to the bottom where it fans out. She has her long blonde hair pulled up into a soft chignon, wispy hairs around her face, no veil. Simple. Lovely. She has a radiant smile on her face as she looks at her husband to be.

They begin to recite their vows and Ian notices they have chosen traditional vows. The same ones he and Mickey said to each other almost two years before.

“I Phillip, take you, Tami...”

“I Tami, take you, Phillip...”

“In sickness and in health...”

Ian can’t help but find Mickey in the crowd, locking eyes with him.

“For richer or poorer...”

Mickey softly smiles at Ian, and Ian just knows that sensitive asshole’s eyes are tearing up.

“Til death do us part.”

Ian is smiling at his husband like an idiot now, unable to take his gaze off of him. He can’t help but think of the day when they said those same beautiful words to each other, meaning them with their whole hearts. They had already been through most of it; sickness, poverty, better and worse. And they had made it. Making those promises that day just cemented that they would always go through those inevitable things together.

It was the best day of Ian’s life. The beginning of their forever. No more forced separations. No more goodbyes. No more lonely nights, wondering if the other is safe and okay. He has to fight back tears; this is Lip and Tami’s day after all.

Lost in thought, he’s startled back to the present by applause as Lip dips Tami for a kiss that’s a little too hot for church. This elicits a standing ovation and whoops and whistles from the guests. Ian can’t help but cheer and clap for his brother and his new wife.

———

After another hour of pictures, these including the bride and groom, they all head to the reception hall.

It’s decorated with white and burgundy linen tablecloths and elaborate floral centerpieces. There are Edison bulb strings hanging from the ceiling. A DJ is spinning beside the parquet dance floor, disco lights flashing away. There is a large table full of chafing dishes and a three tired cake on a separate round table.

“Man, the Tamiettis really went all out,” Mickey says to Ian, grabbing a carrot stick off one of the veggie platters with his fingers, sticking it into the bowl of dip, and shoving it into his mouth.

“Like you have room to talk, Mr. Gold- chiavaris-with-the-white-cushions,” Ian jokes, to which Mickey responds with a light hearted “fuck off”.

After filling their starving bellies with meatballs, chicken wings, finger sandwiches, and cake, the Gallaghers take to the dance floor. They know how to party and they’re not about to let this amazing night with music, free food, and an open bar go to waste.

The whole family is dancing to YMCA, a wedding reception staple, when the end of it fades into a slow song. Ian and Mickey lock eyes. Ian raises a quizzical eyebrow and Mickey nods, almost imperceptibly. Ian slowly walks over to him, gently grips his hips, and pulls him in close. Mickey snakes his arms around Ian’s waist and grasps his hands together at Ian’s lower back. Ian slides his hands up Mickey’s arms and wraps them around his shoulders. They sway slowly to the music, bodies pressed together so closely they can feel each other’s hearts thrumming in their chests. Mickey nuzzles his face into Ian’s neck as Ian rubs his hand on the back of Mickey’s head. They are intoxicated by each other, the romance of the day, and the few Old Styles they’ve shared from the bar.

“Hey, Ian?” Mickey inquires, a little muffled, not bothering to move his face from its place in Ian’s neck.

“Yeah, Mick?” Ian questions, talking into Mickey’s hair.

He hesitates for a second, like he’s trying to think of the right words. “Maybe... maybe it’s the beer, or… or just this day, or maybe being married to your ass is making me fuckin’ soft...” he drifts off.

“Out with it, Mick,” Ian sighs calmly.

“It’s just... I love you. So fuckin’ much. I feel like I don’t say it enough, man,” Mickey finally confesses.

Ian stops swaying, pulls back, and tenderly holds Mickey’s head in his hands. Looks him directly in the eyes. “Mickey. Listen to me. No, you don’t say it very much. But you don’t need to. Because you show me every fuckin’ day. And that’s so much more important and meaningful to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean… you got me to stop wallowing on the couch when I lost my job, paid enough attention that you knew where that could lead. Stopped it before it got bad. Checked in with me. Don’t know where I’d be, ya know mentally, if it wasn’t for you. Worrying about me and shit. Fuck, I probably would have fallen through the cracks years ago without you. And… and you created a job for me so we could work together. You planned a surprise anniversary party for me. You moved to the fuckin’ Westside because I wanted to. You agreed to buy a duvet, for fuck’s sake, and helped me pick it out,” Ian laughs.

“Okay, yeah, I guess I am a pretty amazing husband. You really fuckin’ lucked out, Gallagher.”

“Yeah, damn straight I did,” Ian smiles and pulls his husband back into his arms, thinking the matter settled.

There’s a short beat before Mickey says, so quietly Ian almost doesn’t hear it, “I fuckin’ lucked out, too, ya know.”

“Ya did?” Ian asks casually, expecting a snarky answer. Another slow song has begun so they stay where they are, in each other’s arms on the dance floor.

“Yeah, man. Like… like with my fuckin’ dad?” Mickey begins.

Okay, not where Ian was expecting this conversation to go.

“You… you found nurses for him and shit… and kept trying when they… didn’t work out.” Mickey keeps pausing, like the conversation is making him uncomfortable, but he can’t stop. “He was an evil prick that didn’t fuckin’ deserve our help… but you helped anyway… for me, ya know? ‘Cause it was important to me.

“And then… when he…” Mickey sniffs uncomfortably, reaches up and scratches his nose with his thumb. “…you just let me cry for like, 4 days. Didn’t make fun of me. And you held me. But you didn’t let me forget what a monster he was, no matter how hard I tried to only remember the good shit.”

“Mick, it’s okay, we don’t have to talk about all this, not here anyway —,” Ian begins but Mickey interrupts him.

“No, I wanna… I spent so much of my life never saying what I fuckin’ feel and I want to tell you right now how I fuckin’ feel,” Mickey declares, determined but still so tender.

Ian just nods for him to continue.

“Look, all the shit with my dad is in the past. But I’ll never forget the way you were …just, there for me. Through all of it. It just… it meant a lot to me. It meant everything to me, man. I just… sorry, all this wedding shit has me all fuckin’ emotional and I just needed to let it out. Tell you what you mean to me, that’s all.” He clenches his eyes shut, and squeezes the bridge of his nose with his fingers, only briefly. “Just… don’t fuckin’ get used to it, okay?”

Mickey grins after that last statement, relieving some of the tense emotion of the last several minutes.

Ian smiles back and replies sarcastically, “Wasn’t planning on it, softie.”

“You’re a fuckin’ dick,” Mickey laughs and draws Ian in close, starts to sway to the music again.

“Hey, Mick?” Ian whispers into Mickey’s ear as the song finishes. “I love you too,” and he feels Mickey’s smile light up against his skin.

Ian and Mickey dance and drink the rest of the evening away, celebrating not only Lip and Tami, but also the freedom they’ve found in being so emotionally vulnerable with one another. There is a lightness that comes after getting things off their chests, sharing their unfiltered feelings with one another. This might not have been the ideal occasion to share such heavy stuff, but Ian doesn’t want Mickey to ever be scared again to just blurt out how he fuckin’ feels every minute.

———

They aren’t completely wasted, but are definitely drunk enough that they shouldn’t be driving home. They grab an Uber and Carl, who has an early shift the next morning and quit drinking around 9, drives the ambulance to the Gallagher house where they’ll pick it up later.

Feeling no pain, they laugh and joke and sing like when they were just drunk teenagers, arms tangled around each other, up the elevator and down the hall. It’s nearly 1am and they aren’t exactly being quiet. Their neighbor across the hall, an older eccentric lady named Rhonda, pokes her head out to see what the commotion is, catching the two men pressed up against the wall outside her door in the middle of a steamy kiss.

They finally notice her presence, break apart and Ian blurts out, “Heyyyy, Ms. Rhonda! So sorry to bother you!” as their cheeks turn bright red. They’re not embarrassed that she caught them making out in the hallway, they’re embarrassed because this isn’t the first time she’s caught them making out in the hallway.

“Oh, you beautiful boys are no bother!” she laughs. “Wish I had someone to throw me against a wall and kiss me like that. Shew! You two crazy kids have a great night; god love ya!” and retreats back into her apartment with a friendly smile and a wave.

They laugh, bid her good night, and decide they should probably go inside their apartment before they encounter one of their less friendly neighbors. Ian fumbles around with the key for what feels like an eternity before finally getting the door open. They stumble through the door, slamming it shut loudly behind them, Ian reaching up to lock the deadbolt.

He stops as soon as he throws the keys onto the entry table.

“In case I haven’t told you yet, Mick, you look hot as fuck in that suit. But…,” he steps closer to Mickey. “I think it’ll look even better on our bedroom floor,” Ian teases.

“‘Ey, you look pretty fuckin’ hot yourself,” Mickey responds, biting his lip.

They just stare at each other for a moment, appreciating the sight before them. Suits and ties and dressy shit don’t happen around here that often.

“S’you remember your promise from this morning, right? That if I got outta bed, you’d make it worth my while later?” Mickey asks playfully.

“Yeah?”

“Well, it’s fuckin’ later, Gallagher. Time to pay up,” Mickey declares with a flirty grin.

Ian doesn’t even hesitate. Grabs Mickey around the waist and pushes him back toward their bedroom, to their bed with the cloud mattress and the bright white duvet, to their haven.

ETA: Check out Ian, Mickey, and Rhonda’s friendship origin story here!

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Fjorester Week Day 4: Modern AU

Read on ao3

Fjord walks into his apartment with a heavy sigh, dumping his keys and jacket by the door before toeing off his shoes. As he sets his shoes on the rack, sees Jester’s brown boots haphazardly tossed against the wall and smiles to himself a little bit. It’s been a long day and his best friend being here makes it just a little bit better (plus he has a not so small crush on her, but that’s besides the point).

“Jester?” He calls as he walks deeper into the apartment. She’s not in the living room or the kitchen so he walks into his bedroom. And sure enough there’s a Jester sized lump on his bed under several layers of blankets. He laughs at her and shakes the lump. 

From inside, Jester lets out a grumpy noise that makes Fjord laugh even more. Her head pops out from somewhere in the middle of the bundle and she looks at him with an unhappy frown, hair all mussed up and poofy.

“Hey, Jess,” Fjord grins as he sits down on the side of the bed. “What are you doing here?” 

She sighs and clambers out of the blankets to sit next to him, “I had a fight with Beau so I thought I’d come here.” 

He frowns. Jester fighting with anyone is almost unheard of, let alone with Beau. “Why?” Jester groans and leans into him, burying her head into his shoulder. He laughs and slings his arm around her waist to pull her closer. “That bad?” Jester nods into his shoulder. He makes a sympathetic noise. “I have some doughnuts in the kitchen, would that help?” 

Her head snaps up and he holds back a laugh at the serious look on her face, “Are you joking?” 

He returns her serious look, “I would never joke about doughnuts. I even got double chocolate with sprinkles just for you,” he bumps her shoulder.  

“Rainbow sprinkles?” 

“Of course.” Jester jumps to her feet and all but pulls Fjord into the kitchen. He laughs as he follows her. Instead of immediately running into the kitchen like he expects, Jester jumps up onto one of the bar stools and leans eagerly over the counter. 

Fjord walks around the counter and pulls the box of doughnuts out. “Your doughnuts, ma’am,” he says as he pushes the box towards her. Jester laughs as she opens the lid. Inside are six doughnuts: half her favorite and half his, cherry filled doughnuts. 

Jester thanks him as she snatches one up and takes a big bite. Fjord takes one of his own and takes a slightly smaller bite, leaning against the counter. “Why did you get doughnuts?” She asks, licking her chocolate covered lips. 

He shrugs, “I just had a feeling you’d need them.” 

To his surprise Jester all but bursts into tears, curling in on herself. Fjord rushes around the counter and quickly pulls Jester into his arms. She leans against him, crying into his chest. “Jester?” He asks. 

“Sorry.” She sniffs and pulls back, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “It’s, um, that’s...what Beau and I fought about.” 

“Doughnuts?” 

To his surprise Jester doesn’t quip back at him. “About you caring about me.”

He frowns. Why would they fight about that? Of course he cares about her. “What does that mean?” 

Jester sighs and looks up at him nervously. “I have feelings for you, Fjord. Like romantic feelings and Beau told me I should tell you and I said that I didn’t want to because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship-”

“Jess.” Fjord interrupts her, his heart beating a million miles an hour, face flushing. She looks up at him with his big violet eyes. “Can I kiss you?” Jester gasps softly and stares at him in stunned for a moment before nodding silently. 

Fjord winds his fingers through her hair and pulls her lips up to meet his. As they kiss, Fjord feels Jester’s cold hands on his waist. Jester’s lips taste like chocolate, making him smile against her. Kissing Jester is better than he ever thought it could be, and Fjord loathes for it to end. 

When they pull apart, Jester grins up at him, “So you like me too, huh?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. Fjord rolls his eyes fondly and kisses the top of her head. Jester preens at the contact. 

“How about we finish our doughnuts and then we talk,” Fjord suggests. Jester nods, already biting back into her doughnut.

[ponyguru]

Here she is at last ... Marie Antoineigh, in her full glory!

WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD! Only read further if you’re prepared for artist babble!!

I already posted most of these photos on my Instagram, but I like to have a more full ‘breakdown’ on my Tumblr, simply because IG isn’t as friendly a format for the more informative posts, imo. (Plus, no line breaks!) Marie Antoineigh was created for the 2021 TheDollPlanet rerooting contest, and won first place in her category! She also was featured on the front page of their Etsy! Her hair is done in their NP Fluffy in pink and white!

Marie Antoineigh (obviously based on Marie Antoinette, with a punny name suggested by a friend!) started life as a very sad, stained Pony Bride, with her hair shaved down to the skin, a rusted and lobbed tail, a chopped-off neck plug and Sharpie stains everywhere, notably around her eyes. I didn’t get a true “before” photo, simply because with my impulsivity, sometimes the only choices are ‘start now or start never’, so I try to minimize how many roadblocks are ahead of me.

I took a photo of her after her rehair, but before the styling, so you could see how thick and poofy her hair was, and try to illustrate a little step-by-step of how her hairstyle came together. I knew some of the basics of how a Rococo hairstyle should look, but because I didn’t know if the hair would curl in time, I didn’t want to rely too heavily on curls, so I incorporated more braids than would probably be period accurate. I actually used a Gibson girl technique for the body of the hair, creating a ponytail that would cover up a square of Styrofoam (stabilized in the head with a straight pin), with another ponytail on top to enhance the volume. I love reading Instagram hair tutorials, so I attempted some ‘teased braids’ to frame the front of her bouffant. I left some hair loose at the end, so I could French braid it into the bouffant, and added a lock of the solid pink to twist into a bow, which I also learned on an IG tutorial. I figure she’s not Marie Antoinette exactly, she’s Marie Antoineigh, and so a pony version of a royal could have more liberties with her style. Her hairstyles often featured pearls, so I strung pearl beads onto thin jewelry wire, which gave me more control where I draped them. I also kept a hank of hair loose in the front to curl it on top of her crown, which is a ring, secured in place with two thin strands of hair tied at the back of her bouffant. Her tail is done in two braids, one large four-strand and one mini three-strand! 

(Painting is “Portrait of Marie-Antoinette de Habsbourg-Lorraine (1755-93))

I originally planned to have a more stereotypical crown next to a slice of cake, but I realized that I should use a reference for a French crown. Unfortunately, the paintings I found of Marie Antoinette online didn’t feature any crowns, but I did find a beautiful jeweled headpiece in the painting above, with the typical feathers and pearls to accompany. She is also often painted with roses, so I added a frosting rose to her cake. And because she’s a royal, she gets the extra luxe treatment; a symbol on both sides! I also gave her a heart-shaped beauty mark to cover a particularly obvious purple dot on the side of her nose.

Marie kept her original eyepaint, as you can see in the top comparison photo; I used white speckling paint to cover the stains around her eyes, which reduced them to more of a lavender eyeshadow, and then painted a lacy pattern over it. Her original symbols were removed, and repainted with the cake-headpiece symbol.

I think that just about covers all of it! But I took a million photos, so just for kicks, I’ll include those below the cut! Thanks for reading!

This was my first composite photo, I was going to use this as my entry ... but when I emailed the organizer to ask if a composite photo was okay, she told me that someone uploaded 16 photos! So I added even more photos!

(^This is the shot I decided to use for her primary photo!)

Okay byeeee!

[griffxnnage]

perfect || s.b

pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

request: Hi! I was wondering if I could get a one shot(is that what it's called) of a sirius x reader. I would like a cute/fluffy fic of them post Hogwarts and are married with a little girl, like maybe the reader gets home from work to find Sirius in the room with their daughter. Maybe his hair is put up in ugly pigtails and he is wearing a tutu, they are having a magical tea party and Sirius is just being a fluffy daddy's girl type of thing with his little girl and the reader just cant take how happy she is and how cute this is and how much she loves her family.

word count: 1.1k

“You’ve got to be kidding me; 2 more nose biting teacups?? These poor muggles,” I shook my head, just ready for the work day to end. “Ma’am, there’s also some Fanged Frisbees making their way into Muggle school equipment,” My assistant mumbled, quite feebly. “Alright, let’s see the paperwork, and get those Obliviators on the job, please,” I sighed, ready for another long afternoon.

After Fanged Frisbees and Shrinking Keys, a strange opal necklace and a severed hand, my day finally finished. I yawned as I trudged towards the guest exit, too lazy to go into one of the fireplaces for the Floo Network. As I was lifted to the streets of London, I thought about days past; pulling pranks with Moony, Wormtail, Prongs, and especially Padfoot. My Sirius. We’d gotten married 1 year after graduating, realizing that we were soulmates, and that we had no time to lose starting our lives together. 2 years after that, we welcomed our beautiful daughter, Opheila, into the world.

Walking through the rain sodden city streets, I smiled on the memories that I held near to my heart. After finding a nice secluded alleyway, I checked my surroundings to make sure no Muggle’s were watching, then I Apparated to our cozy flat, excited to see my family after a grueling day. 

“Hey, Sirius??” I called from the foyer of our flat. “Where are you?” After I set my keys down on the granite counter and put my purse down next to them, I heard a little melody coming from our daughter’s room. 

I’d grown used to her talent as of late, but it still took me by surprise at how well she could carry a tune. “Ophelia!! Where’s my little snuggle-bunny??” I called, crouching low to receive a hug, but it never arrived. I just heard the sweet voice of our 3 year old daughter continue. “‘Phelia!! Where are you? Do you know where daddy is?” I called, still confused about where he could be. But when I entered Ophelia’s room, my question was answered. “Sirius, oh Merlin! What happened to you??”    

His hair was in two very untidy pigtails and he had somehow stuffed his muscular body into one of her bigger frilly dresses. When he turned to face me, he had tacky vibrant blue eyeshadow on his eyelids and very clumpy mascara on his long lashes. His cheeks were adorned with way too much bright pink blush and the look on his face was absolutely priceless. 

“Y/N! Darling, you aren’t supposed to be home yet!!” He screamed, trying to cover himself up, but failing due to how poofy the dress was. I couldn’t respond due to the fact that I’d never laughed this hard since we were both still at Hogwarts. As I was wiping tears from my face and trying to catch my breath, he stood after tripping over the tacky pink fabric and put a hand over his face, trying to cover up what our daughter had done. 

“So, I guess you figured out we have an aspiring stylist on our hands, huh?” He mumbled, suddenly not needing the sparkly pink rouge on his cheeks. “I always knew she had a knack for this sort of thing,” I gasped through heaves of laughter. Once I’d calmed down (which took a while, let me tell you), I helped Sirius wash all of the play makeup off of his face, and somehow yanked him out of the ruffly dress without tearing it.

“So, I see your day was nice and productive,” I giggled as I patted his face dry with a face cloth. “Sure did, love. How was your day?” He smiled at me, watching as I started to rant about the sucky day at work. While I was applying moisturizer to his face, he pulled me in by my waist and looked deep into my eyes. “Love, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He took my chin in his hand and made me look at him. “Of course, Pads,” My eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips, unable to stay on one of his striking features for too long.

Shaking my head, I lightly slapped his chest and laughed, saying, “Sirius, we have to go help her clean up!” He groaned, but I just dragged him out of the bathroom by the hand and returned to our daughter’s room. “Mummy!!” she cried, throwing her little arms around my neck. “Hello, my lovely! How was your day with daddy, hm?” I held her in front of me, brushing hair away from her face. “It was really fun! We got to have tea with the faeries and then I made daddy all pretty!” Her face was beaming, and her eyes were sparkling; a trait she got from her father.

“I saw! And where did you get all that makeup, love?” I was entering mum mode; once it started, there was no stopping it. “I got it from Uncle Moony an’ Uncle Prongs, remember, mummy? For my birthday!” She exclaimed, her head suddenly filled with images of cake and presents, so she just ran off to play with her doll house. 

“I can’t believe those two got her makeup; I mean, she’s 3, for Merlin’s sake!” Sirius threw up his hands in defeat, shaking his head. “Let them spoil her; it’s going to be forever until Prongs has a little girl, and I’m not really sure about Moony, so let them have this!” I hugged him from behind, putting my head under his armpit so I could see our little kid who was humming a muggle song, lost in her own little world.

“Well, at least she’s happy.” He sighed, smiling as he watched his little girl just be herself. Once I sat myself down next to her, watching what scene she was creating, I felt two large arms wrap around me from behind, and a chin come to rest on my shoulder. “I love you, Y/N, and our little family. Our perfect little family,” He murmured into my ear, and I could hear the smile on his face. I put my hands on his arms and held him close, replying, “I love you too, Pads. You and our little family.” And just like that, the crumby day at the office had faded from my memory, and all I could think about was how happy I was at that moment, and how I wanted it to last forever.

[imagine-docx]

dresses.

Summary: Bucky is a cute single dad who needs to get a dress for his daughter because his ex wife’s wedding is in a few weeks. Insert you, the cute kids shop owner who has a ton of knowledge in this department. [ChubbyBucky!SingleDad!AU]

Warnings: swearing, and some insecurity mentions and some body shaming, suggestive content right at the end.

A/N: the amount of love i got on sneaky is astronomical! and i love and appreciate each and everyone of you who read it and enjoyed it! also, please remember to sign all the petitons, and donate if you can and attend protests if you can! black lives matter. - amanda

➽───────────────❥

Nope, nope, no, absolutely not, fuck this. Was the exact thought process Bucky went through his mind. The reminder just popped up that in two weeks was his ex wife’s marriage ceremony and reception.

Bucky and Natasha were once married, and had little Layla from the marriage. Layla was caught in the crossfire of a nasty divorce when Bucky and Nat ended things when she was only 3. When Bucky got the invitation for the wedding, he felt the same exact heartbreak when he realized Nat was cheating on him, and felt someone throw his heart into a fire when he realized the man she was currently engaged to was the exact man she cheated with.

He got up and realized that he should check if Layla had any clothes to wear to the wedding. He looked through her closet and realized Layla outgrew almost all of these or weren’t there for the wow factor.

He sighed, closing her closet. He ran his hands through his hair, he turned around and was greeted by the mirror that was there. 

The divorce was hard on Bucky and it was obvious. He put on a few extra pounds around the waist, his shoulders rounded out, and his thighs filled out his pants from all the late shifts at the security firm. Another sighed escaped his lips, he was seeing his ex in laws again and he didn’t look the greatest. 

He walked down the stairs and grabbed his keys, and was going to pick up Layla from Wanda’s house and take Layla dress shopping.

➽───────────────❥

“Wow you look like shit,” Wanda greeted him.

“Glad to know someone like you is caring for my kid,” Bucky sarcastically responded, allowing himself into her house. 

“You already knew what you were signing up for when you knew I was dating Sam,” Wanda said, guiding him to the kitchen.

Bucky met Wanda through Sam. Sam met Wanda through the security firm, when Wanda was working for her old company and they changed the codes without her knowing, she flipped out and somehow Sam and Wanda clicked, and here they were. 

“Where’s my kid?” He said, looking around for the little bundle of joy.

“Upstairs with Sam,” she responded. He eyed Wanda, “Listen, they’re bonding because I need to talk to you.”

“Shoot,” he said, grabbing a banana from the fruit basket.

“Nat’s getting married next week.”

“I know that.”

“You should get a date,” Wanda said bluntly.

“I would, if I could.” He stated, “Oh, I need a dress for the wedding.”

“Even better!” Wanda exclaimed, “That cute shop owner seems like she can help you out.”

“Wanda,” Bucky warned. Wanda was referring to you. You owned this little shop called Sew Lovely and were always helping him out with clothes for Layla. 

He learned about it through Wanda as she was friends with you, and god was he smittened by you. You always helped out with what she wore, and the majority of her closet came from your little shop. 

Everytime he came to see you, he felt like he was falling deeper and deeper, and it didn’t help that Layla would spend any given moment with you, and you were amazing to his kid.

“I’m trying to help,” she said defensively.

“Daddy!” He heard a little voice exclaim from around the corner. 

“Hi pumpkin, did you have fun with uncle Sam and aunty Wanda?”

“Uh-huh, we coloured, watched movies, so much fun.” Layla said.

“Tell me more while we’re in the car,” he said, getting up from his seat and walking to the door. Before leaving he leaned back to Wanda, “I’m going for the dress,” Wanda smirked, “Not for the girl, for the dress.”

Wanda kept that smirk on her face, “Of course Buckaroo.”

➽───────────────❥

He decided to take Layla out for smoothies before shooting you a text asking you if you were free to help find him a dress. He poked the straw into Layla’s drink before he felt the buzz from his phone in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the text message while poking his own straw into his drink. He let out a small smile “Come love,” he said grabbing her hand before making their way back to the car. 

Upon buckling her in, he brushed some hair out of her face, “We have to go shopping baby,” he cooed.

“I love shopping!” she exclaimed. 

“Glad to hear baby,” he said, before navigating to the shop. 

➽───────────────❥

He held Layla’s hand, while navigating to your shop. “Is aunty here?!” she asked, excitedly. 

“Of course,” he chuckled as Layla dragged him into the store.

He heard someone call out Layla’s name and it could have been confused with an angel. “I knew that was my favourite sugar puff!” you exclaimed, crouching to hug her. 

“Aunty! I’ve missed you!” Layla exclaimed, throwing her arms around you. 

“And would you look at that, it's my favourite client,” you said. 

Your hair was tossed into a messy ponytail, you were wearing an oversized white knit sweater, a pair of black jeans and some white sneakers. Even though the outfit was simple, you look like god himself spent ages creating you. “You know I would have no idea what to do with fashion,” he joked. 

“Of course I do,” you joked back. “So how can I help the two of you today?”

“I need a dress for a wedding,” he said, biting back the fact it was his ex wife’s wedding. “Say no more,” you said, before crouching back down to Layla, “Alright love, we need to get you a dress. What are you thinking?” 

“I want poofy! Colours! Flowers!” She exclaimed. 

“Oh she knows off the bat, let’s go sugar puff,” you said, getting up and grabbing her hand and taking her around the shop. 

➽───────────────❥

And that’s how Bucky spent the remainder of his day looking at dresses with you and Layla. He sat while the two of you looked around and tried things on. He admired how well you two bonded, as if you were mother and daughter, “I like this one the most sugar puff. What do you think?” 

“I love it!” She exclaimed, she threw her arms around you for the second time today, “Thank you Aunty!” 

Bucky looked over and saw that Layla was sporting a poofy white dress with red flowers and green leaves around it. “I love this one,” he said in awe at his daughter. 

“No problem baby, I guess we have to get you matching jewelry,” you said, engulfing her into another hug.  

Bucky let out a groan, “You guys have been shopping for so long.”

“Don’t rush a girl,” you joked. 

Another forty five minutes and almost two hundred dollars later. They were done. “Remind me to never go shopping,” he joked. 

“When you have a girl, you can never say no,” you smiled at him, making his heart melt. 

“Thank you so much,” he said, feeling insecure because he knew someone like you would never like him. 

“Not a problem sugar,” You said, and his heart skipped a beat. “See you next week?”

“You can count on it,” he said, giving you a small smile.

“Bye Aunty,” she said, hugging at your legs.

“Bye sugar puff, bye Buck,” you said, as they walked out the shop.

He should probably stop spending so much money at your shop, but seeing you made it all worth it.

➽───────────────❥

At this point, there was a week until Nat’s wedding and he was internally freaking out, he tried on his suit the previous night and it didn’t fit. The pants could barely make it past his midthigh, the dress shirt needed about three more inches before it could fit around his frame, and the jacket couldn’t even fit his arms.

Layla was asleep in her room, and he sat on the bed and tears started brewing in his eyes. Makes sense why Nat left, and why she wouldn’t like me, he thought referring to you.

He shut his eyes to prevent tears from slipping down his face. He steadied his breathing before shooting Wanda a text asking if she could watch Layla for a little longer than he anticipated. He tossed his phone on his bed, before dumping the suit in the trash can and going to shower.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky left work early, having asked Steve to cover for him while he went suit shopping. Once leaving work he somehow found himself on your street. He decided to see what you were up to before going suit shopping. 

He walked up to the shop and saw you were sitting on the bar stool, innocently chewing at the tip of your pen while looking at the notebook that sits in front of you. You were wearing a black romper with sunflowers all over them, an oversized black cardigan that was slipping off of your body, you had your hair tossed into a messy bun, glasses sat on your nose, and a pair of black sandal heels were on your feet. 

He found himself slowly walking up to the shop, opening the door, the bell went off from above him. You looked up and let out a huge smile, which made his heart melt and he returned a goofy grin. 

“Got worried for you Buck, haven’t seen you in a while,” you joked.

“Dad duties call, doll,” he said walking up to the counter, “You alone?”

“Jessica and Natalie are in the back,” you said pointing your pen off to the back, “It’s fairly early, aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“Don’t want me here doll?” He said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“No, I just need to make sure you have the funds to keep my store running,” you joked.

“Gotta go suit shopping, was on my way, and thought I should stop in and let you know I’m fine,” he joked.

“You going by yourself?” You asked.

“I have no one else doll, Steve and Sam are at work,” he said running his hand through his hair.

“I can come,” you said, quickly adding, “If you want.”

“I don’t want to drag you away from work,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hush hush, I’ll come.” You closed the notebook, got off the stool, “Let me tell them I’m leaving and grab my bag?” 

“I’ll wait here,” he said smiling at you.

“Don’t move,” you warned, before walking to the back.

He looked around at the new displays, he thought about how much time you probably put into it, “You moved, about an inch. Can’t trust you anymore, Barnes,” he heard you say from behind you.

“My apologies doll, how could I possibly make it up to you?” He asked.

You linked your arm around his, “I’ll come up with something,” you said, as the two of you exited the shop.

➽───────────────❥

The two of you found yourselves at this small suit shop at the edge of Brooklyn. Walking in, the two of you heard someone yell, “James.” And an elderly Italian man came and greeted him with a hug.

“Hi Bruno,” he said, returning the hug.

He pulled away and noticed you, “Who’s this beautiful dame?”

He introduced the two of you, before Bruno brought the two of you deeper into the store, “He’s provided suits since I was young.”

You nodded, “It’s cute.”

“How about have the pretty dame sit and I do the measurements,” Bruno said. You sat on the stool provided and sipped on the smoothie that you bought for the two of you. Bucky felt embarrassed as Bruno took his measurements in front of you, but you flashed him a reassuring smile, and he felt some of the insecurities fade away.

➽───────────────❥

An hour later and Bucky found himself getting frustrated. Nothing looked good on him. He tried navy blue suits, beige suits, grey suits, plaid suits, and to no avail he could find anything. Bruno went to look at other options, while Bucky looked in the mirror. It was obvious he was picking at his own body.

You got up and walked over to him, rubbing his back, “You look gorgeous Buck, don’t deflate yourself.”

“It’s just that,” he started, “It’s my ex wife's wedding, and I don’t look good. I want to impress the family, but I look like-”

You cut him off, “You look amazing, and she’s an idiot for letting you go. If her family doesn’t like it, that sucks, cause you’re no longer their family.”

“Thank you,” he said, pulling you into a hug.

“I got your back Buck,” you said, hugging him back, “But you should have told me we were dressed to kill, I would be on it.”

“Now that you’re in on it, what’s running through that mind of yours?” He said, pulling away.

“Black,” you said, “Can’t go wrong with that.”

He smiled before yelling out, “Bruno? You got a black suit?”

➽───────────────❥

He hated how right you were, but also simultaneously loved that you knew him that well. He smiled at you, “Doll you know me well.”

“Gotta look out for my two favourite Barnes, don’t I?” you asked.

“James, you look amazing, you just need a tie,” Bruno said, before going off to find a tie.

You got up and smoothed out the suit near his shoulders, “I owe you one,” he said, looking down at you.

“You owe me a lot sugar,” you said.

Bruno came back with a red tie, “I think this would look good on you James.” You moved away from him, and let Bruno tie the tie to complete the suit. 

“The colour brings out your eyes,” you commented. 

The tie was rich, vibrant, red, and contrasted nicely against the black suit and his blue eyes. “You look amazing James.”

“Thanks Brun, I’ll take it,” Bucky said, looking at himself in the mirror, smiling at how good he looked.

Bruno walked to the front and rung up the order, “You really know what’s good for me doll.”

“What can I say? I know my Barnes,” you joked.

“How about I go change, then I’ll treat you to dinner?” He asked.

“He’s living up to his word,” you joked.

“I always do doll,” he said, before walking back to the dressing room.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky was a man of his word and took you to the small dinner about three streets away, but still was on the outskirts of town. You finished up dinner and were driving back, “You know your way to a girls heart.”

“I always do,” he joked.

You two sat in comfortable silence the rest of the way back. Pulling up to your house, he walked you to your step. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Anytime Buck,” you responded.

He scratched the back of his neck, “Are you free this Saturday?” He realized what it sounded like, “I mean, you can be my plus one with Layla,” he rushed out.

“Of course I would come Buck,” you unlocked the door, “Text me the details?”

“Of course. Good night doll,” he said.

You kissed him on the cheek, “Night Buck,” you said before scurrying inside, missing the blush that rose to his cheeks.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky didn’t see you at all that week. He was busy getting his haircut, buying other last minute things he needed before the wedding. He kept in contact with you through texts, telling you he’d pick you up at four.

It was three fifty and he was in his car, with Layla in the backseat singing loudly to the pop that played on the radio. He was nervous, he didn’t know what to expect. He unbuckled Layla, before making his way up the steps. He rang the doorbell and waited for you to answer.

Once you opened the door, he felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs. Before him you wore a red satin dress, with a low cut exposing your cleavage, the black heels accentuated the length of your legs, you had a necklace with your initial as the pendant, a small gold bracelet and some gold earrings. 

“Aunty! You look so good!” Layla said, breaking Bucky’s train of thought.

“Thank you sugar puff, you look beautiful,” you said stroking her hair. You pulled the door in behind you and locked it, and dropped the key into your back. 

“You look gorgeous doll,” he said, still in awe at you.

“You clean up well Barnes,” you said, “Let’s get to that wedding.”

➽───────────────❥

Bucky found himself looking at you with awe whenever you didn’t notice. A lot of the family Bucky once met at his wedding leaned into him saying that his current family was cute and received their blessings. 

He didn’t notice how much the three of you looked like a family until one of Nat’s cousins pointed out that his tie, matched your dress, which matched the flowers on Layla’s dress.

He looked over and saw you, Wanda, Carol, Nebula and Sharon sitting and sharing a drink. He smiled, before he heard someone call out his name, he turned around and saw Natasha, “Can we talk?” 

“What?”

“I wanted to apologize for everything, and I’m glad you found someone who treats you well and loves Lay,” Nat said, motioning to Layla sitting on your lap.

“Thanks Nat,” he responded, sipping on his soda.

“Truce?” She asked.

“Truce.”

➽───────────────❥

It was well after twelve, and Bucky was dropping you home. Layla was taken to Wanda’s earlier, and Layla was going to spend the night there. You and Bucky had a grand time, you two laughed, shared drinks, shared a few dances, and a few glances here and there. 

You were wrapped up in his suit jacket due to it being colder than you anticipated when you were leaving the hall. “I had fun tonight,” you said, as you walked up the stairs.

“Thank you for coming, I appreciate it,” he said.

“Anything for you,” you said looking at him, you felt the air shift and you didn’t mind.

Both of you leaned in, until your lips were touching and moving in harmony. Your arms found their way behind his neck, and his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You broke away when you needed air. You gave him a sheepish smile, before he pecked your lips again.

“Glad this dress did its job,” you joked.

“You bought this just for me?” He asked, running his fingers along the satin material that was along your waist..

“Of course, I needed to match your tie, for obvious reasons, and I hope it would lead to something like this. Needless to say, it did its job,” you said brushing hair out of his eyes.

“Well, if this dress is for me, I would like to see it on the floor,” he whispered seductively in your ear.

“You better get to work loverboy,” you said, before he picked you up and took you into your house.