#hope every single woman that crosses his path thinks he's too hideous for her because if he ends up with a wife im killing her

[satoriberry]

i hate muslim men so much and im not joking

[iamnotoriginalphil]

The Thrill of Coffee (Loki x Reader)

Synopsis: You hate your new barista

Words: 1918

Warnings: some swearing

**GIF not mine**

You’d been coming to this coffee shop for years now and you’d never seen the man behind the counter before. He was leaning on the counter, smiling at the woman at the front of the queue, his eyes sparkling. You sighed, tapping your foot, looking at your watch. You looked up again, catching his eye. He winked at you.

His hair was drawn back in one of those hideous man buns you only ever saw on pretentious hipsters. It was dark in comparison with his pale skin, his eyes the only bit of colour on him. His long fingers plucked a cup up, writing a name on the cardboard. You rolled your eyes as the woman giggled, a flush appearing high on her cheeks.

And so the process repeated with the two people in line in front of you. You huffed, staring up at the ceiling, not enjoying the way this peacock was primping and preening in front of all these customers. All you wanted was your morning coffee, not some sleaze ball trying to flirt with you for a bigger tip.

“What can I get you, love?” he asked once you were at the front of the line.

“Coffee. Black,” you said.

“Surely a beautiful woman such as yourself would like something,” he paused, his eyes sweeping over you, “sweeter.”

“Coffee. Black,” you said again.

He chuckled, picking up a cup, holding the pen poised above it, looking at you from under his long lashes. You gave him your name and he wrote it on the cardboard in an elegant hand. You scoffed, handing over the money. He dropped the coins into your outstretched hand which you promptly dropped into the tip jar. He flashed you a large smile but you walked off before he could say anything.

You took the coffee when your name was called, hoping you wouldn’t be seeing this new barista again any time soon.

He was there the next morning.

And the one after that.

And the one after that.

And the one after that.

He slipped into your morning routine as smooth as silk, becoming the first person you interacted with almost every day. You hated it. Every morning you’d walk in, the place clogged up as this man, this infuriating man, insisted on flirting with every person who passed through. You’d wait an exorbitant amount of time as he smiled and winked, earning all kinds of attention from strangers. Each time it was your turn to place your order you’d ignore his flirting, giving the same order you gave every day and your name.

Eventually he stopped asking for your order and your name. He’d greet you with your order, your name written followed by a heart. You’d ignore his other questions, taking it and handing over the money, making sure to leave the change in his tip jar. Just because you found him to be insufferable didn’t mean you weren’t going to tip. You weren’t a monster.

And then he showed up on Saturday afternoon.

You’d realised he always took the morning shift, but whenever you passed by in the afternoon he didn’t seem to be there. A few months after his initial shift you decided you wanted the coffee without the annoying personality serving it to you and the only way you could get it would be to go there in the afternoon.

You sauntered in, letting out a sigh of relief when you saw Mandy behind the counter. She had been your usual barista in the mornings before her replacement showed up. She waved to you. You pointed at one of the tables and she nodded, giving you thumbs up.

You settled at one of the tables, pulling out your book. You figured if you were going to be there, you may as well enjoy it as much as possible, and that included relaxing in the shop, savouring your favourite cup of coffee. You settled back, thumbing through the well worn pages to find your place.

A cup was set down in front of you with a clink. You looked up, ready to thank Mandy only to be confronted with a pair of blue eyes, framed with long lashes. You recoiled, clutching the book to your chest. He smiled at you, settling himself in the chair across from you. You frowned.

“Can I help you?” you asked, resting the book spine up on the table.

“Ah, Dickens. That is a classic,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

You didn’t bother to respond to that.

“Come on, not even a smile?” he asked, giving you one of his.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“To enjoy the company of much a beauty,” he replied.

“Then you’ll be left disappointed,” you snapped.

“Do you have a problem with me, love?”

“Are you only just now realising that?”

He quirked an eyebrow at you, leaning forward over the table, his hands clasped together. You drew back, not enjoying how close he was getting. He grew serious, the smile slipping from his face.

“You always tip me,” he said.

“Because I’m not an asshole,” you replied.

His eyebrows drew together as he pursed his lips. His finger began to tap on the tabletop, setting a rhythm that set your teeth on edge. You slammed your hand down on top of his to stop his incessant tapping. He looked at you from under his lashes.

“Why do you have a problem with me?” he asked.

“Do you know how frustrating it is to wait for ages in a line while you flirt with every single person who passes through the front doors?” you asked, “and you act as if the fact that you’re hot makes up for the inconvenience you cause.”

“You think I’m hot?” He looked much happier at the change of topic.

“That’s not the point,” you said, “you don’t have to flaunt like a preening peacock to inflate your ego.”

“I take that as a compliment,” he said.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. When you opened your eyes again he was grinning. You rolled your eyes. He turned his hand over from underneath yours, holding your hand. You tried to tug it away but he tightened his grip.

“Could you let go?” you asked.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m enjoying it too much.”

You huffed but didn’t bother to try and tug your hand away again. You assumed he’d soon get bored and let you go. If you ignored it then it would go away.

“Your only complaint is that I use my good looks to get more tips?” he asked.

“My complaint is you hold everyone up while you feed your ego by seducing every person you cross paths with. All I want is my damned coffee, not a sleaze ball trying to make himself feel good by making doe eyes at strangers,” you snapped.

“You’re not a stranger. I see you everyday,” he said, giving you a smile.

“And yet I don’t even know your name.”

The smile slipped from his face again and he pouted. You ignored the way it caused guilt to flood your system.

“But I wear one of those little name tags,” he said.

“And I’ve never read it,” you replied.

“Not even once?” he asked.

“That would require me looking at you for more than a moment,” you replied.

“You’ve been looking at me an awful lot today,” he said.

“You’re hardly letting me ignore you,” you sighed.

“Don’t be like that, love. I know you’re enjoying the attention,” he said.

“I was enjoying my solitude more,” you replied, picking up your coffee cup with your free hand. He was still insisting on holding the other one.

“If it annoys you so much, why do you keep coming here every morning?”

“This is the best coffee in the city,” you replied with a shrug.

“So you admit I’m good at something,” he said, smiling brightly at you once more.

“I admit this place has the best blend in the city,” you replied, “you have nothing to do with it.”

“I have everything to do with it.” He squeezed your hand and your pulse jumped under his touch. You averted your eyes from him.

“You know what I think?’

“I couldn’t care less about what you think,” you said, your eyes snapping back to him.

“I think you like it when I flirt with you. I think you like it so much you pretend to hate it because the other option is far scarier. I think I make your heart beat just that little bit faster. And I think you’re jealous when I flirt with all the other customers and that’s why you hate it so much.”

“Yeah, well I think you have no idea what you’re talking about,” you spat, managing to wrench your hand back from his grip.

He lent back in his chair, pushing his loose hair behind his ear. You took a long drink from your coffee, doing your best not to look at the man sitting across from you.

“It’s Loki, by the way,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up as your eyes flitted over to him.

“What is?” you asked.

“My name,” he replied.

“And when did I ask for it?”

“I know you wanted to know.” You wanted to wipe that smirk off his smug face.

“Right. Well, you have successfully ruined my Saturday so I think I’ll be going now,” you said, standing up.

He watched you go, his eyes like a heavy weight on you as you passed out the door. You got almost down the block before you felt a hand grasp yours. You jerked around, raising your fist as if you’d be able to punch anyone effectively. Blue eyes were twinkling as they looked down at you.

“So now you can’t contain it to the coffee shop. You have to assault me on the street too,” you said.

“You left your book behind.” He shook it at you, “although perhaps you did that on purpose to ensure I’d chase after you and do the gentlemanly thing of returning it.”

“Go fuck yourself.” You snatched the book out of his hand, ready to storm off if he hadn’t plucked it from your grip again.

“That wasn’t very ladylike,” he said with a pout, “I think you owe me a thank you.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” you said.

“For a first date I’d say this is going rather well.”

You blinked, not even sure what to say to that. You couldn’t understand how delusional this man must be to think this in any way qualified as a date. You’d never seen anything further from a date.

“I’d quite like to go on another,” he said, grinning at you, “that can be your thank you for returning your book.”

“This wasn’t- We weren’t- What?”

“I’ll pick you up at 8pm tomorrow night,” he said.

You watched him walk away, your brain trying to compute what had just happened.

“You don’t know where I live,” you shouted after his retreating back.

He held up the book, shaking it again at you. Of course, you had been using an old envelope delivered to your flat as a bookmark. You growled turning around to walk home. You had to pretend as if there wasn’t a tiny thrill at the thought of the barista taking you on date the next night.

And you definitely didn’t like it when he flirted with you.

Tags: @sheridans-dynamos​​​​​​​​​​​ @tumultuous-love​​​​​​​​​​​ @juniperbab​​​​​​​​​​​ @internetgremlin​​​​​​​​​​​ @true-queen-of-mischief​​​​​​​​​​​ @sev7en​​​​​​​​​​​ @fleurs-en-ruines​​​​​​​​​​​ @lokilover2000-blog​​​​​​​​​​​ @hakuoyuki​​​​​​​​​​​ @el-eldritch​​​​​​​​​​​ @foreverbeingthunderbuddy​​​​​​​​​​​ @fuckthatfeeling​​​​​​​​​​​ @libellule2001​​​​​​​​​​​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​​​​​​​​​​​

[irondadbigbang]

IronDad Big Bang 2019 Masterlist

Masterlist below the cut! Or read on AO3.

Baby Bird by WhimsicalEthnographies @whimsicalethnographies

Peter stares at the envelope, sitting in the middle of his work table, in his little corner, in Mr. Stark’s lab. He’d been checking the mail as soon as he gets home from school and pulled it out before May got home, which won’t be until after nine o’clock. And there it was, finally, the envelope adorned with Massachusetts Institute of Technology, gray and maroon across the white paper.

art by ulzyuu

Castle on a Cloud by CaptainStarSong @captainstarsong

“How the Hell am I supposed to help some kid when half the time my own life is crashing and burning,” Tony asked, incredulous that Fury was thinking that he could possibly take care of some little boy that he didn’t even know. There was a reason why Tony’s life was practically always falling a part, why the closest people around him either died or left him. It wouldn’t be fair to bring some kid into the mix of his crazy life, especially after Afghanistan. 

Fury took a deep breath as looked at Tony with a hint of pity. “Because, Tony, his name is Peter and he’s your son.” 

Or in which SHIELD finds a young and hurt Peter after raiding a HYDRA base, and Tony must learn how to become the father Peter needs.

art by eve-valution

Casualty of the Darkness by kianisabitch @kianisabitch

Peter remembers when they used to cuddle or simply curl up together and listen to each other’s heartbeats. They used to be the perfect couple. Alex would bring him milkshakes when he had a bad day, he always came to Peter’s science fairs and he even let the boy sleep over at his house whenever May had a night shift at the hospital (which was more often than not at this point due to a single paycheck never being enough to support their small family). But slowly, Alex stopped doing those thing. It started with him forgetting to bring Peter milkshakes when his eyes were red rimmed or anxiety attacks shook through his bed like a hurricane, but quickly morphed into daily insults and verbal abuse and then backhands to the face when he was angry or hands grabbing him too hard and finally the violent sex he was now so used to. Sometimes he missed how their relationship used to be. But the good times were a thing of the past and there was no use mourning what he no longer had. 

OR 

Peter is stuck in a highly abusive situation and Tony starts uncovering the truth in order to save the spiraling teenager.

Damaged At Best (Like You’re Already Figured Out) by JolinarJackson @jolinarjackson

”Don’t come any closer,” Spider-Man said, his hand raised threateningly, his fingers resting against a trigger mechanism nestled into his palm. 

”Alright,” Tony answered. For a moment, they looked at each other – Tony stuck to the wall on one side of the alley and Spider-Man stuck to the other – then Tony opened his helmet to show his face. 

”Hey, there”, he said. ”Nice to finally meet you.” 

— 

The Avengers are left shaken in the aftermath of the Sokovia Accords. With half the team under house arrest at the Compound, Tony finds himself seeking refuge in Avengers Tower and starts forming a tentative friendship with the neighborhood vigilante Spider-Man. A friendship which is quickly threatened by Secretary Ross doubting Spider-Man’s intentions and integrity. 

Tony is left wondering who to trust, especially when Spider-Man manages to uncover the one secret Tony never wanted anyone to know about: the child Tony had with a woman named Mary Fitzpatrick sixteen years ago.

art by @shoyzz-art

Dreams Like Ashes by Captainkirkmccoy @captainkirkmccoy

Tony Stark may not know the danger he’s unleashing on himself, his team and his kid by reworking the old plans for the PASIV/Dream sharing project his father sold to the military, but he does have the best intentions. Irondad Big Bang.

How The Mighty Fall by Meep_Morp @gayspiderboy

Since his duel against Toomes on Coney Island, Peter’s life has settled down considerably. May knows about his double life and accepts it (mostly). Tony has welcomed him back, and given him more independence as New York’s Spider-Man. 

One night during patrol he crosses paths with Connor, a teenager who has Extremis in his blood and answers to the wrong kind of people. Though Tony is quick to distrust him, Peter finds himself reluctant to follow his mentor’s lead, and a bond develops between the two boys. Their relationship is further complicated when Connor’s former master, Negative, makes it a personal mission to destroy them both in his quest for power. 

Taking down a superpowered psychopath? Tough, but Peter isn’t going to back down. 

Stopping Tony from blasting his first potential boyfriend into space? He might need a miracle for that.

If You Could See Me Now by geekymoviemom @geekymoviemom

New York City is bracing itself for the worst hurricane to hit in over thirty years, and the kid isn’t back yet. 

Light by funnygirlthatbelle13 @funnygirlthatbelle

Tony Stark has given up. While the other heroes are in Wakanda trying to figure out a plan, he drinks to forget in New York. But when he discovers tickets to Next to Normal; a rock musical about mental illness, grief, the misuse and abuse of drugs, and parents recovering after the death of their child; that he and Peter had bought, he is forced to face his worst fears all over, and learn that, despite everything he’s been through, there may still be light.

Look Over Your Shoulder, I’ll Be There by Colourcodedbinders @colourcodedbinders

It starts as a simple enough gag: see how long he can manage to keep sneaking into Avengers Tower with his friends before Tony Stark notices. But when an unexpected gaggle of men wearing identical ugly navy blue suits and driving around in equally hideous blue cars join the mix, controlled by a guy with horrific fashion sense and the strength of twenty pumas, Peter has to suit up and do what he does best: superhero the hell out of it. 

And if it ends up being the hardest, scariest, most unplanned thing he’s ever had to do? Well then that’s no one’s business but his. (And Tony’s. Definitely also Tony’s.)

Radioactive by Emily_F6 @justme--emily

Things haven’t always been great between Tony Stark and his son. He wasn’t ready to become a father…didn’t even know he had a son until the boy’s mother died. Over time, though, he thought he got the hang of it. But that was before his son went on a field trip to Oscorp and was seemingly left fighting for his life.

Sea Spider by Bean_reads_fanfic @the-reverse-mermaid

“Tell me I’m not the only one seeing this,” Tony prompts, gesturing to their catch. 

It’s a kid. A teenager, by the looks of him, no more than 15 or 16, with curling brown hair plastered over his forehead and eyes. He lays there prone on his side, covered in cuts- some shallow, some deep, all of them most likely caused by the barbs on the fishnet. Tony can just make out blood matted on the back of his head- he probably hit it on the side of the boat and got himself knocked out. Clinging to his torso is a soaked, faded t-shirt and below that… 

…below that, his lower body is a tail. A full-on fish tail. 

(Mer!Peter AU)

Sometimes, a Family Is by CrystalRoza19 & NeonCrayons

Sometimes a family is comprised of you, your recently divorced dad, an unruly group of teenagers and a semi-unemployed former world-class neurosurgeon… 

Peter Stark hoped that moving back to the city would help his father get passed all the struggles and animosity that plagued him after his divorce. What he hadn’t thought to hope for was a way for his father to move on; he’d always had a hard time letting people go, after all. 

Stephen Strange was everything Steve Rogers was not. Maybe he could be everything Tony Stark needed to heal his broken heart. Throw in an unruly group of teenagers and you have yourself a family.

turn back the clock (and I’ll try again in the morning) by madasthesea @madasthesea

Peter gets stuck in a time loop. In it, he lives through some of his worst nightmares, only to wake up that morning and have no one remember. He needs Tony to help him get through. 

And if that isn’t bad enough, his identity is revealed over and over, every day.

art by @the-reverse-mermaid & starlight-sparks

VERENDUS by Lorein_nur 

New York 1935, Trish Parker was on her way to deliver a letter when all hell broke loose on the busy streets. Due to fates twisted sense of humor she found herself caught in the middle of a mafia disspute, if a stray bullet doesn’t kill her May sure as hell would.

art by @hereandnowwearealive

We’ve Made It This Far, Kid by EmAndFandems @jlmarch

Tony’s just trying to protect the kid from SHIELD. Why does everything have to be so hard? 

Meanwhile, Peter’s biggest problem is buying movie tickets, until he gets a harsh awakening.

[shannaraisles]

In Marcher Fields - Chapter 15

Poppy Hawke was never the daughter her mother wanted, the sister her twin preferred, the hero Kirkwall desired. They do not see the woman who stands between them and the chaos that threatens. No one takes the time to look, until she crosses the path of a certain Knight-Captain with demons of his own to battle …

[Read on AO3]

Chapter Fifteen

9:41 Dragon, Kingsway

"What's in this stuff?"

Poppy tried to twist to look at the Lady Seeker, but Cassandra laid a firm hand on her head and turned her face away again, concentrating fiercely on the strangely citrus paste she was working through the length of the Champion's hair. It seemed an odd way to spend the evening after a day that had included fighting a dragon for the Inquisitor's party, but it appeared that Cassandra had been itching for an opportunity to strip the hideous black dye from Poppy's hair for a couple of weeks now.

"It is something the mages make for the same purpose," Cassandra informed her, working the paste carefully through with a bone comb. "There is no need for you to travel disguised any longer. Had I known our search had sent you so deeply into hiding, I would have put a halt to it."

Poppy guessed that she'd shot a dirty look at Varric during that comment, smirking as her dwarven friend chuckled and offered up one of his patented innocent looks in return.

"Tell you the truth, Seeker, that's the third dye she's used in as many years," Alex volunteered from where he was lounging by the campfire, up on his elbows and ankles crossed. "The red was a nightmare to get out."

"Red, Hawke?" Varric looked impressed. "You should have kept that one. Tiny here has a thing for redheads."

Tiny - or The Iron Bull, as he had introduced himself - lifted his head from his own business, namely sharpening the nicks out of his battleaxe. Poppy shifted uneasily as his gaze focused on her. He wasn't the Arishok, she knew that, but he was Qunari, and he did carry an enormous axe. The similarities were too obvious not to make her just a little uncomfortable around him.

"She doesn't have to be a redhead to get my attention," the Qunari rumbled, and there was the difference that helped her separate him from his fellows. This Qunari had genuine emotion and feeling in his voice, and spoke like everyone else she had ever known. There was no painful formality in him. "She took down the Arishok in single combat, or so they say. That's impressive."

"Looking for a new conquest?" Alex asked, a little nastily. "She didn't do it entirely on her own, you know."

"Oh, you want to be conquered instead?" Bull asked, apparently just as interested in the brother as the Champion. “Happy to oblige - you look like you could do with a good fuck.”

Poppy erupted into laughter at the suddenly hunted look on Alex's face, not even trying to keep her mirth under wraps for once. And, Maker, it felt good to laugh again - not just to smile a tight-lipped smile, weighed down by all the worries of being vulnerable on the road and in the open, but to truly laugh and mean it. It felt good to have companions again, even if they weren't actually hers. She didn't see Alex watching her as she giggled, a small smile playing about his lips at the sight of his twin really being his sister for the first time since they had left Kirkwall.

"Varric has told me a great deal about you," Cassandra said then, ignoring the teasing that continued on the other side of the fire. "I have read his book of your exploits, as well."

"Yes, I heard about his retelling for your benefit," Poppy said quietly, her mirth fading as she met Varric's gaze.

He'd kept it close to his chest, all of it, and she knew it couldn't have been easy for him. Though no one had physically harmed him, days of interrogation could so easily have broken his spirit, interrogation followed by a virtual kidnapping, removing him from the city he loved so much and bringing him into Ferelden. If Corypheus had not revealed himself, would he ever have given her up? She didn't think so. Varric was the best friend she had ever had. And unfortunately for the Seeker, Cassandra was the reason he was here at all.

"I-I ..." Cassandra faltered behind her, and she heard a quiet sigh. "It was not well done," the Seeker admitted softly. "I did what I thought I must."

Still holding Varric's gaze, Poppy watched him squirm a little before she responded. "You're companions now," she said. "You should trust each other to guard your backs. Let it go, both of you. Xena needs you not to be at each other's throats."

She caught the flicker of Varric's glance toward the tent where Xena was sleeping off the worst of her own injuries. That dwarf was almost as insane as Fenris in a fight - Poppy had watched from the hillside as Xena charged the dragon virtually solo, her party scrambling to keep up with her if only so she didn't get herself killed in her excitement. If Poppy hadn't been keeping guard on the approach to Alistair's hiding place, she might have joined in herself. Dragons were a surprisingly fun fight, with the right people at your side. Xena clearly agreed, but there was more to Varric's glance than just responding to the mere mention of her name. Poppy could have sworn her friend liked more about the Inquisitor than he was letting on.

"You are correct," Cassandra agreed, and to her credit, there was no audible sign of reluctance. "Varric, I ... apologize for my treatment of you. It was unfair and unnecessary. But I am ... glad ... you chose to remain."

Varric's brows rose, impressed and vaguely alarmed by the apology. "Well, shit, Seeker, now I'm going to have to write another chapter for you."

"That means he's sorry for messing you around," Poppy translated with a grin. "What serial is this we're talking about?"

"Swords a-"

"Nothing, it is nothing!" Cassandra interrupted sharply, cutting through the quiet snickering that went up around the campfire.

Poppy bit down on her own smile. Apparently the Seeker didn't want her knowing that she read the romance serial. She wondered if she should tell Cassandra that the real life inspiration for the guard-captain was nowhere near as smooth or charming as the character in the book. Nice night for an evening. And her own snicker broke forth, remembering the disaster that had been getting Aveline to be honest with Donnic. She hoped they were still as happy with each other now as they had been back then. She hoped they were still alive.

"There's nothing wrong with enjoying a little romance, Cassandra," she heard herself say. "But it isn't all candles and poetry. Romance is where you find it ... in the little moments when you are entirely yourself with the person you love."

There was a momentary pause, a pause filled with a significant glance between Alex and Varric, and the sensation of Cassandra moving just a little closer to her back.

"You speak as though you know of such things," the Seeker said hesitantly. "Yet no one has ever ... I mean, there is nothing to say that you have ..."

"I have." Poppy felt her heart sink even as she said it. "I did, once. Life got in the way."

"There's a light in his heart that he doesn't want to go out, honeysuckle in his dreams chasing the demons away. Soft eyes, gentle hands, peace in her arms ... I'm not the man she needs, the man she deserves. I will live as she would want me to, and it will have to be enough."

All eyes turned suddenly to the young man who spoke, crouched at the edge of the firelight, his pale eyes fixed on Poppy. Cole, that was what they called him - a spirit made flesh, or so it seemed, a being who could look into your heart and read what was there in compassion. He held Poppy's gaze for a long moment.

"He misses you," he said quietly. "His heart never let go."

Thickness choked her throat, stilling any words that might have come in response. Cullen.

Andraste's tits, but she missed him. She ached without him, not even missing the physical so much as the calmness that came when she had been able to speak to him, to lie beside him, to watch him sleep and know he trusted her to be there when he was at his most vulnerable. Every scrap of news from Kirkwall had been examined, studied, held close to her heart, pride filling her at the way he had risen from his prejudices and past torments to take charge and extend care to the whole city. She knew he had allowed the mages to flee, that he had turned his focus to the innocent who had suffered in the wake of the cataclysm. And she wished she had been there to help him. But the Seekers had come, and with them the rumor of an Exalted March to be called on the Champion of Kirkwall, and the decision had been made without a second thought. To protect Kirkwall, to protect her friends, to protect him, she had run away. Yet every day she had looked back and wondered if he would ever forgive her for what she had allowed to happen. For what she had been made complicit in, because of her blind loyalty to a friend.

The strange boy's words had quieted the camp around her. Poppy was aware of eyes watching her, some covert, others openly, witnessing her struggle to keep tears in check as she looked down at her hands.

"If you have the chance for love, you should take it," she said thickly, glancing over her shoulder at Cassandra. "It never fades, even when all hope is lost."

The Seeker laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Cassandra likely couldn't begin to understand who Cole had been referring to, but Varric and Alex definitely could. Judging by the raised brows and concerned eyes, they would not let this rest, either. Poppy drew in a sharp breath, straightening her shoulders.

"So, how long does this stuff have to stay in my hair for?"

[sosaidthedragon]

Fraudulent

(Just a short little one-shot I wrote on my lunch break. I've had Guy on the mind lately.)

Guy x OC

Rated T (barely)

Tsunade's concerns about the thief Nanafushi were unfounded, at best.

To be completely fair, he probably was a pretty good thief - his henge was perfect, and had he chosen anyone else to imitate, she probably would never have noticed he wasn't who he was pretending to be. He obviously hadn't done his research on his target, however. No one in their right mind would disguise themselves as Might Guy.

He gave himself away almost immediately, before he even hit the village gates. Not only was he jogging at a leisurely human pace - Guy's version of a jog was to stampede like a rampaging elephant - but he wasn't shouting greetings to Kotetsu and Izumo at the top of his lungs. She might have just shrugged and assumed he was having an off day, maybe challenged Kakashi and got a Thousand Years of Pain for his troubles, but when he walked right by he without so much as a hello, she knew immediately it an impostor.

Guy was physically incapable of walking by her without shouting out a greeting to his "beautiful youthful butterfly", and that was at the absolute bare minimum. Most of the time, if the crossed paths during the day, she would end up in a bone-crushing hug, before being subjected to a series of questions about her day and what she was up to, even if they'd just seen each other an hour earlier. There had never been a time, even back when she was his "adorable youthful kohai", that Guy didn't loudly and eagerly take any opportunity to get her attention.

This Nanafushi guy was either extremely overconfident in his ability to lie, or a moron. Maybe both.

She probably should just apprehend him. The fact he ignored her presence instead of being drawn to it like a loud, flailing moth to a flame was all the proof she needed to be certain that someone had snuck into the village in a henge, but the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to teach this impostor a lesson. When Naruto had approached them earlier looking for help dealing with Lee and his dojo, Guy had put on a terrible wig and mustache, and the idiot imposter had apparently not realized that it was a disguise, so he still looked the part. There really wasn't a better way to teach this Nanafushi twit not to mess with the Hidden Leaf than to subject him to Lee when he thought he'd be getting a challenging fight.

Hopefully the kid didn't break too many bones. Dragging this would-be thief all the way to Tsunade just because his legs were broken sounded like a lot more work than it was worth.

Nanafushi froze as a pair of arms snaked their way around his waist - he hadn't even felt someone behind him. Whoever it was, however, didn't seem to be hostile, instead laying their palms across his chest as they pressed against his back. From their hands alone, he knew it was a woman, as if the soft swells of what had to be an ample bust pressing against him weren't enough of a clue.

He hadn't thought this ugly idiot would be able to get a woman to look at him twice - nevermind have one who was so eager to hang all over him. She was probably hideous, he decided, with a big hooked nose and terrible teeth, and a hairy mole right in the middle of her forehead, but he would just have to suck it up and flirt with her until he could get her off his back - metaphorically, and literally.

"Hey, handsome, where'd you run off to?" The voice in his ear was unexpectedly smooth. "I thought we were going to have some fun."

Carefully prying away from her hands, which seemed determined to grope every inch of his torso, he scrambled to come up with an excuse to avoid the woman's obvious innuendo. He could flirt with a hag, sure, but he wasn't about to suffer through sleeping with her if he could help it.

To his surprise, however, there was no hideous deformed crone lurking behind him. Instead, he found himself toe to toe with a female shinobi, who looked more like she belonged in a center fold than in active combat. Big, bright eyes, soft lips - nevermind the curves even her shapeless Chunin vest couldn't hide. For a moment, he was stunned by the fact that a woman this far out of the Leaf Ninja's league was giving him the time of day, before he managed to formulate a single, coherent thought.

Score.

"Yeah, uh, sorry. Had an emergency to take care of."

Why the hell that green-jumpsuit wearing idiot would leave the village when he had a woman like her trying to get him into bed, Nanafushi would never know. He, however, was more than willing to set aside his mission for a little while - the Leaf's secrets would keep, but this sort of opportunity was once in a lifetime, and it wasn't like he didn't have the time. The moron had said something about the Land of Tea, which was at least a few hours away, even at his inhuman pace.

"Well it's all sorted now, right?" She asked, as her finger skated from his belly button to his throat in a gentle, teasing line.ml

"Yeah, yeah of course."

"Good, because I've been waiting for this all day." She smoothed down his jumpsuit, before grasping a couple of his fingers as she turned and began to walk away.

"Lead the way, beautiful."

He had expected to be brought to a house somewhere in the village, but he wasn't complaining when she led him through a series of alleyways that spat them out at the edge of the woods. She probably didn't want any of her friends to see her bring a guy like him home - he wasn't going to complain, though. The view alone made trekking through the brush worthwhile, and the pay off would be even sweeter.

"Here we are."

He almost ran into her when she stopped, focused as he was on the seductive sway of her hips. They had come upon a small wooden cabin, stable enough but obviously constructed by an amateur - smoke poured out of the stone chimney, and from inside, he thought he could hear voices.

"Uh..."

He froze - there were definitely voices inside the cabin, one of which was screaming while the other shouted something about a hurricane, before there was a loud thud and more screaming. Upon closer inspection, he noticed a sign on the front wall of the building, which read "Hot Blooded Dojo". Before he could ask why the woman would bring him there, of all places, a blond brat in an orange jumpsuit stumbled outside, looking quite a bit worse for wear. The kid spotted the two of them standing near the edge of the clearing, and immediately made his way over before Nanafushi could get away.

"That's your disguise?" The kid squawked, obviously not amused. "I guess it'll have to do. Now, get in there and challenge him already - I don't think I can take much more."

The woman made no effort to stop the kid from dragging him towards the dojo, following at a leisurely pace. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she leaned up to whisper in his ear as he tried and failed to find purchase in the dirt.

"Just go a few rounds with him. I know he won't be much of a fight, but he's been looking forward to a real challenger for weeks, so try to make it look good, okay?"

Watching the impostor fight with Lee was about as entertaining as she hoped - that was to say, it was hilarious. Nanafushi may have been a decent ninja, but most Chunin couldn't hope to go toe to toe with that genin in taijutsu and win. There were plenty of Jonin who probably couldn't manage it either, now that she thought about it, and Nanafushi definitely wasn't a jonin. Even if he didn't have to constantly maintain his henge, it was readily apparent he wasn't all that skilled in combat.

Idiot. He would certainly think twice the next time he tried to sneak into a village - assuming Ibiki didn't completely crush the poor bastard's spirit. Knowing T&I, however, that wasn't likely, although judging by how badly Lee was trouncing the impostor, Ibiki probably wouldn't have to do much before he was baring his soul.

Poor, stupid bastard.

She didn't think it could get any better when the impostor had to beg Naruto to fill in for him - but it definitely did. Believing she wasn't watching, the impostor took the form of Lee instead, and with the timing only Guy could have, he was soundly kicked through another wall and back into the dojo.

Average ninja didn't stand a chance against Guy's Dynamic Entry, and the impostor was no exception - left unconscious in a pile of broken planks as Naruto, Lee, and Guy tried to figure out what was going on, his henge quickly disappeared. It was definitely the guy Tsunade had asked her to track down, and he definitely wasn't going to be getting back up for a while.

After the four of them delivered the would-be thief to the Hokage, who was not amused to realize one of her jonin had led him around by the nose for an hour rather than apprehend him, they split apart. Naruto ventured off towards his house, while Lee returned to his dojo to fix the multitude of holes in the walls before the local wildlife could get in. That left her and Guy to make their way home together, walking side by side as she contentedly swung their joined hands.

"How did you know he was an impostor?" Guy's deep voice broke the comfortable silence they'd fallen into. "His disguise was perfect - even Kakashi would have fallen for it."

"If he'd picked anyone else, I probably wouldn't have figured it out." She replied breezily, still fondly thinking about watching the impostor get smacked around like a rag doll. "But nobody can imitate Konoha's Sublime Green Beast."