#i really went hard off of your prompt to make experimental piece i wanted to make

[eiirishi]

ABANDONED REPEATER STATION - A package arrives in the early evening hours to a building without a postal number. In it are two cassette tapes and some notes, carefully wrapped in layers of cellophane and tape. It doesn’t stay in the warm light of the summer sun for long, a figure dressed in an old Frittte rain cloak picks it up and opens the bolted doors to the abandoned repeater station with keys that were acquired somewhat legally. No one who had any claim to this place would care, their business having gone underwater long enough ago that the new *owner* was at that point still a child playing on their mothers living room carpet.

LINK TO THE PDF ON GOOGLE DRIVE

SHIVERS – Sitting in a sunny spot by their desk in a figure, squinting at their radiocomputer and putting on the final touches on their piece.

EMPATHY – They’re excited.

EIIRISHI – “Hello @electromelancholy !” The keys on the radiocomputer click softly as they type. “There has been a project on my mind for some time, but I never got around to making it, always on the back of my mind. And when I read your prompt, well it jumped out and onto the page.”

“The pale has always been something I have loved so I put it upon myself to collect everything I could about it from the game and compile it. I have also read The sacred and terrible air recently, so I went through and included things from there too. If you have not and want to read that book, I can edit it so there are no parts of the book included. There are no spoilers about the main plot in it, but some events that happen in the world are.”

“This has been a passion project and I hope it’s something you will like.”

[lady-wallace]

Between the Styx and the Lethe Part One: Whumptober Day 30 (JJBA)

And we’re at the @whumptober finale. This is a really long one with a lot of Giorno whump so buckle in.

Also, this is obviously too long to post here so please read the full chapter through the links below!

Prompt: Note to Self: Don’t Get Kidnapped (manhandled, hair grabbing, ‘please, don’t touch me’)

Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 5

Character: Giorno

A strange man on a quest for power kidnaps Giorno to find the secrets of Gold Experience. When experimentation doesn't work, he turns to more subtle methods, manipulating, coercing, until Giorno is questioning what is real and doubts that help is even coming

~~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

Masterpost

~~~~~~~

Giorno felt incredibly disoriented when he woke. He dragged his eyes open, and a million stars swirled around above him, making him feel sick and dizzy. He brought a hand up to his face, hoping to make them stop. His hand was too heavy, and then he realized the reason was that it was attached to his other hand.

Giorno rolled onto his side, blinking away the dizziness and the swirling stars that he was pretty sure were just lights, and tried to breathe through the nausea that assaulted him.

The next time he opened his eyes, he felt a little steadier, was at least able to make sense of his surroundings. He was in a small bedroom. Sparsely furnished but clean. Giorno glanced down at his hands that were manacled together and carefully pushed himself into a sitting position as he tried to remember what had led up to him ending up here.

A meeting—he'd had a meeting. What had it been about again?

There was the sound of a lock turning and Giorno spun around, head spinning again, as it was opened and a man stepped in.

"Ah, you're awake. Good."

The pieces were finally coming together as Giorno took the man in. Tall, middle-aged, handsome enough. His dark hair was slicked back from his face to show hard grey eyes. He wore a plain, yet expensive tailored suit and carried himself with an air of authority.

All in all, he represented his position well.

It had surprised Giorno a little bit to get an invitation to a meeting from a senator.

"It's not really that uncommon for local government officials to want to make ties with us," Bucciarati had told him. "Polpo used to have several senators in his pocket."

"It's sort of a…symbiotic relationship, I suppose," Giorno mused, tapping his chin. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to go and have the meeting at least."

So he'd set it up and gone the next day to meet with Senator Vitali Padovesi.

In retrospect, he probably should have taken at least Fugo with him, but he'd been busy, so instead he'd had Mista and Narancia drop him off at the meeting point before they went to run a few errands.

He hadn't expected more than a simple meeting smashed between two other engagements that day. He'd never heard anything suspicious about this man, had no reason to suspect he was dangerous; by all accounts, he wasn't even a Stand user.

The problem was, unlike in nature where danger could be spelled out with bright colors and warning sounds, humans tended to be better at hiding their true colors until it was too late.

Giorno should not have accepted the cappuccino.

He could only assume that he had been dragged off after he was incapacitated.

Now, not knowing where he was, staring this new enemy in the face, he had to reevaluate everything he had been considering about Padovesi from their meeting. The man was obviously more dangerous than he had originally thought. But what did he want? Was Giorno nothing but a captive for ransom or was there more to his motives?

"I don't appreciate your way of handling business, Senator," Giorno said firmly. His tongue was still a bit heavy, and with whatever drug this was in his system, didn't allow him enough concentration to bring Gold out.

The man smiled, but it was oily, almost patronizing. "I do apologize for the inconvenience, Signore Giovanna, but I'm afraid the kind of discussions we will be having must be held in private."

He stepped further into the room and Giorno staggered to his feet, trying to keep his legs from wobbling, furious that he probably looked like some weak prey animal at the moment.

Padovesi's eyes scanned him as if seeing just that. "I'll admit, you don't look like much right now. But I'm inclined to believe the stories I've heard about you."

"And what would those be?"

The senator tucked his hands into his pockets. "I've heard stories of people in Passione having strange powers. I didn't really believe it until I heard about the bizarre occurrences in Rome prior to the previous Don's…shall we say execution? I must say, the rumors have me intrigued. It's odd indeed for a sixteen-year-old nobody to hold such a high position. Ambition only gets you so far. I should know."

"What exactly do you want?" Giorno demanded.

Padovesi took yet another step forward, crowding into Giorno who refused to back down, hating that the man was almost a head taller than him. "I want to know the secret of your power, Giorno Giovanna, so that I can attain it for myself."

Giorno glowered. "We could easily have had this discussion earlier, and I would have given you the same answer."

"And what is that answer?"

"No."

Padovesi sighed, shrugging. "That's exactly what I thought you would say. Which is why I decided to take precautions."

"What did you expect?" Giorno snorted. "You said it yourself, I'm the most powerful man in this city—this country, perhaps. You think I want to make a rival? It didn't turn out well for Diavolo."

Padovesi smirked then. "My, my, look at the little puppy bark. You are no man, Giorno Giovanna, you are only a boy who has been given enough power to make him overconfident. It was easy enough for me to overpower you earlier, wasn't it? So why don't you be a good dog and do as you're told before I have to resort to other methods. I am willing to be nice, but only if you cooperate."

"You should not act so confident. My whole team have powers outside your obvious comprehension," Giorno told him darkly. "They know who I went to meet. It won't be long before they track you down."

"Oh, they won't find us without an invitation. We're in my residence outside the city. We're far away from Napoli now."

Giorno felt a small bit of panic start to arise. How far were they? He glanced toward the small window in the room, but it was dark out and he could see no distinguishing features to the landscape.

"My answer still stands."

Padovesi sighed again. "Then so does my threat."

He suddenly had Giorno around the throat and shoved him back against the nearest wall, leaning down to get into his face. "I will get the answer out of you one way or another, but believe me, it will be a lot more pleasant for you if you were to cooperate."

~~~~~~~

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[intheticklecloset]

The Anticipation Game (Dr. Stone)

Summary: Gen really should have known that confessing anything to Senku would require an immediate experiment - especially his long-kept secret that he loves being tickled!

A/N: THE LITERAL BEST SENGEN PROMPT HOLY CRAP BUDDY!! I 100% HAD to have lee Gen for this one because come on - it's so perfect??? I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! ^^

Word Count: 1,476

@skribblz

Modern AU

~~~

“Senkuuuu,” Gen whined, covering up his dark red face so he wouldn’t have to see his boyfriend’s knowing smirk. “Just do it already!”

Senku – evil, experimental Senku – just smiled at him, splaying his fingers against the skin of Gen’s stomach beneath his t-shirt, keeping him pinned in place with a straddle so he couldn’t roll over or squirm away in embarrassment. The scientist loved seeing Gen like this. It was a rare treat – one he was going to enjoy every minute of while it lasted.

“What’s the matter, mentalist?” he teased, tapping his fingers gently, making his partner twitch in anticipation. “Regretting telling me your little secret?”

Gen whined again, louder this time. He blindly grasped for the pillow beneath his head and pulled it up and over to hide behind it, gripping it tightly. He couldn’t bear to see Senku looking at him like that – like he was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen in his life. It had taken every ounce of courage in his body to admit what he had. The least his evil boyfriend could do was indulge him a little!

“Hiding now, huh?” Senku tsked, curling his fingers just slightly, enough that the nails began to drag across Gen’s smooth skin. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Gen was buzzing from so much well-built anticipation; so much so that when the first ticklish touches finally started, his entire body jerked and he choked on a surprised but relieved giggle, gripping the pillow tighter, trying to muffle his own delight. He refused to speak now; he knew his voice would come out wobbly and giggly, and that would only embarrass him more.

“The silent treatment, too? That’s ude-ray, Gen~”

Don’t use my pig latin against me like that! Gen screamed in his head, giggling harder when Senku circled his navel. Not now! Not like this!

“All right, fine. If you don’t want to talk, I’ll just have to make you laugh.” Senku chuckled at the excited whimper he got from his partner beneath the pillow. “But first…you have to show me your face, mentalist.”

“No!” Gen cried, gripping his shield tighter when he felt hands enclose his wrists and tug gently, all ticklish touches having vanished. “I can’t look at you!”

Senku paused. “Are you really that embarrassed? I don’t think it’s weird, you know.”

“I know, but…but I…I just can’t look at you while you’re…” Gen trailed off, suddenly insecure again. “Will you…will you really not do it unless you can see my face?”

Another pause. Senku’s hands left Gen’s wrists, leaving a slight chill behind. A moment later, gentle squeezes along his sides made the mentalist arch his back with a squeal, bursting into relieved giggles once more.

“You really think I wouldn’t give you something you clearly love? Something that’s exceedingly simple for me to do? Come now, mentalist.” Senku suddenly pushed Gen’s shirt up to his chest and went wild, scribbling and scratching and poking all up and down his torso. “You know better than that.”

Gen squealed with elated giggles, gripping the pillow to resist the urge to bring his arms down, muffling his own cackles as he squirmed and dug his feet into the mattress, soaking in every ticklish touch, every brush of his boyfriend’s fingers that made him shudder and squeak and blush so hard he was sure he was running a fever.

“You’re too adorable, you know?” Senku chuckled, his tone gentle as he continued to play with Gen’s torso as though writing up a blueprint or creating a piece of art, drawing out the sweetest, bubbliest giggles from his partner. “I love that you love this. And I love you, Gen. Every ticklish bit of you.”

Don’t tease me! Gen pleaded in his mind, but he bit his lip to keep from saying it out loud. His whining was all the encouragement his scientist needed and he knew it.

“Now, in the name of science…” Senku suddenly darted up to his ribcage, tweaking each individual rib in a torturously ticklish fashion, methodical and precise as always, “…I must find your most ticklish spot.”

Gen squeaked, panicked excitement coursing through him. He tried arching his back again but only succeeded in opening himself up to further tickling.

“Interesting reaction~” Senku teased, scooting up slightly to pin Gen’s hips to the bed, keeping him from moving almost at all. “Am I getting close? Is that why you’re squirming so much?”

The scientist’s teasing was perhaps unintentional, but it didn’t matter. It messed with Gen just as much, making him shriek and giggle so hard he was practically laughing, his arms trembling with the effort to keep holding the pillow rather than protect himself.

“Is it in here?” Senku’s index fingers wiggled teasingly just under Gen’s armpits. “You’re shaking, mentalist. Does it tickle really bad here?”

Stop! Gen wanted to scream but didn’t. Not there – don’t tickle me there!

“Still not talking, huh?” Senku tsked playfully. “Ah, well. Guess I’ll find out for myself.”

The moment Senku drove his fingers under his arms, Gen lost the battle against his willpower and waged a new war against the pillow he’d been clutching so desperately, trying to throw it off but finding it wasn’t willing to move that easily, and he was laughing harder than he’d laughed in a long time with very little air to catch his breath, his arms and legs flailing as Senku – being Senku – honed in on that spot and stayed there.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! STOP, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Gen screamed aloud this time, blindly shoving at any part of his boyfriend he could reach as he fought against the pillow. After several moments of screeching he finally ripped it away, and the first thing he saw – of course – was Senku’s wicked, wicked smile. “SEHEHEHEHEHEHENKU, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“Oh? But you wanted this so badly,” Senku teased, merciless in both speech and touch. “You begged me to ‘just do it already,’ didn’t you?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHES, BUT – BUT PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! IT TICKLES SO BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAD THEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!! SENKU!!”

Senku grinned at him evilly, but his eyes were soft and loving and full of so much adoration Gen almost couldn’t stand to be on the receiving end of it. “Got you to show me your face, didn’t I? And you’re talking to me now. I’d say I succeeded quite nicely, wouldn’t you?”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Is this your worst spot? Answer honestly, mentalist; you know I’ll punish you if you lie to me.”

Gen clamped his arms to his sides, though it did little good. Senku’s fingers were trapped in there now, wiggling and digging relentlessly, making him scream with laughter as he kicked and babbled out whatever Senku wanted to hear. “YEHEHEHEHEHES IT’S BAHAHAHAHAD!! IT’S THE WOHOHOHOHOHOHORST!! SENKU, YOU JEHEHEHEHEHERK!! PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Senku slowed to a gradual halt, waiting for Gen to catch his breath and look at him before quirking an unamused brow. “Jerk?”

“N-No! I didn’t mean – I was just really worked up,” Gen said in a panic, worried that he’d made Senku angry after he’d been so kind to him about this whole thing. “I didn’t mean it—”

The scientist smiled – a full, bright smile – and gently took his wrists, pinning them to either side of his head as he pushed himself up to loom over his flustered partner. “I know. I just wanted to watch you squirm.”

Gen blushed, getting even more worked up when he realized Senku wasn’t just pinning him down playfully. He was really stuck – forced to look at his boyfriend dead on. “S-Senku…w-what are you doing now?”

“Messing with you.” Senku chuckled. “But I still have some experimenting to do. There are plenty of spots I haven’t tried yet that might be ticklish enough to make you scream again~”

“Y-You…jerk,” Gen muttered, unable to think of a better insult. “You’re sadistic.”

“Nah. I just love seeing you flustered. I’m really glad you shared this with me, Gen. It’s going to make things a lot more fun around here, don’t you think?”

Gen’s eyes widened. He bit his lip to keep from grinning.

Senku leaned down and kissed him softly, making sure his boyfriend was relaxed before pulling away and whispering in his ear. “But I was serious before. If you lied to me about your worst spot, I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”

“I didn’t lie,” Gen whispered back, feeling his heart flutter at the closeness of him, how completely in control he was right now. “S-See for yourself.”

Senku smirked. He let go of the mentalist’s wrists and turned around so he was facing the opposite way, the pads of his fingertips barely grazing Gen’s thighs, starting up his anticipation game all over again. Gen whined for what felt like the hundredth time, desperately aching for more already.

“Don’t worry.” The scientist’s matter-of-fact tone sent shivers down his boyfriend’s spine. “I will.”

[wherethewordsare]

Hey Words! I saw you didn't get around to prompt 7 yet! Could really go for some fluff if your up for it. ❤

Everything hurt. 

His head hurt, his neck hurt, his eyes hurt. Geralt wasn’t sure why he was hurting, he was supposed to be dead. When he stretched his leg experimentally, he found that it was still attached but the movement had caused a great deal of pain to shoot through him, making him groan.

Hands were on him instantly, adjusting something he couldn’t see before Jaskier’s face was above his own. He was doing that smile he did when he was anxious but trying not to bother Geralt and all Geralt wanted to do was pull him down and tell him not to worry. 

Instead he glared up at the bard, finally putting together the pieces to how he might not be dead. 

“Well, good morning, handsome,” Jaskier sang brightly though he sounded choked. 

“What the fuck happened?” Geralt made to sit up but Jaskier pushed him back down with surprising strength. 

“Oh no you don’t. Walking around is for those who don’t get their asses thrown off cliffs.” So it wasn’t the anxious face. Geralt’s vision must have been more off than he thought. 

“Ah, that’s what the fuck happened,” he tried for a smirk and found that it tugged at a ragged cut along his jaw, making him wince which only made the stinging worse. “Kiss?”

Jaskier spluttered above him, his cheeks going scarlet as he leaned back some, looking incredulous. “Cheeky! Years on the path together and the first time you want to kiss me-”

Geralt’s eyes went wide. “Jaskier!” 

“Fine!” the bard snapped, huffing.

“Jas-” his words were lost when Jaskier leaned down, his hands on either side of Geralt’s head, pressing a light kiss to his lips. It was soft and warm and Geralt for a moment had to stop himself from chasing it as Jaskier lifted away again. “I meant the potion, Jaskier. Kiss is one of my potions.” He was having a hard time keeping his scowl in place as he watched the horror spread across Jaskier’s face. 

“Melitele, excuse me, I’m going to also fall off a cliff,” he said softly, pressing a hand over his face as it only grew redder. 

Reaching up, Geralt took Jaskier’s wrist and uncovered his face, smirking. “Then who would kiss me better,” he chuckled when Jaskier snorted at him indignantly, reaching for the potions bag. He didn’t look at Geralt as he grabbed the potion, handing it to him, muttering under his breath. 

Geralt would take the evening to heal up then thought he could stock up on another kind of kiss if Jaskier was willing to share. 

[shoutogepi]

Taking Care of Their Drunk S/O After a Girls’ Night Out

with Bakugou Katsuki & Kirishima Eijirou 

genre : [ ☀︎ ]  fluff!! & a tiny bitta steam~

hc prompt : how would he take care of you if you come home wasted after a girls’ night out?

author’s note : this is my first time writing headcanons!! idk if this is good hc material but lemme know what you think! :) **gif not mine!!

bakugou:

first of all, blasty is annoyed that you’re going out and ditching his elderly ass at home. it’s a wednesday night so who in their right mind would be going to the club?? sure it’s your close friend’s birthday but they couldn’t just push the celebration to the weekend like a normal person?

sure you have work tomorrow but you’re young enough and it’s your friend’s birthday, they just went through a breakup so you just wanna be there for them, physically and emotionally. and bakugou gets that, but he’s still gonna be crabby about it cuz he usually drags you into bed at like ten pm.

more importantly, he likes to have you tucked up in his arms, nose in your hair and tbh your ass on his crotch. it’s just so much easier to fall asleep knowing you’re safe and there with him, and even though he complains about it, the sound of your gentle snores really lull him into slumber.

therefore he has a hard time falling asleep just because you’re not with him, but then the fact that he’s in his large bed and you’re out and about, looking killer in that sexy clubbing number... he’s gnashing his teeth and twisting in the sheets no doubt. knowing you’re most likely very far from sober doesn't really help either. and just thinking of all the creeps that’re probably eyeing up every inch of skin, every curve hugged perfectly by that black sleek dress he usually loves but really despises right now… ugh, he just can’t sleep with his blood boiling like this.

so of course he’s still awake, very agitated may i add, when scratching noises at the door start at two thirty in the morning.

you’re pathetically attempting to open the front door, but the key to the apartment is almost identical to the lobby key and then… the elevator key is there too and oh my goshhh the mailbox key is so small it’s hilarious!! like it’s a baby or something and idk you’re just vibing, laughing at the mini object drunk off your ass.

and a disgruntled katsuki swings the door wide open while you’re giggling at your fucking keychain like an idiot.

caught like a deer in headlights, your expression actually makes his frown melt into an amused smirk, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. “hey dopey, what’s so funny?”

shaking off the embarrassment, you throw your arms into the air and close your eyes, a great big grin on your lips as you loudly cheer his name.

katsuki has a huge weak spot for you and you just look so genuinely happy to see him that he doesn’t bother to make fun of you further, he just slips an arm around your waist and gathers you inside.

he asks how your night was while he bends down to take off your shoes, instructing you to lean on the door for support because you’re all wobbly and clearly not capable of standing upright on your own. god, how did you even make it back by yourself in one piece?

once the shoes are off, he scoops you up like you weigh nothing. years of training have paid off, i mean, his biceps are probably the same circumference as your skull so… it makes sense that he’s able to carry you so easily but it still blows your mind every time he does it.

sets you on the edge of the bed, kissing your forehead when you ask if he’s always had such sparkly eyes. oh, how they shine in the moonlight. lmao you’re a cheesy drunk. he shakes it off with the classic bakugou tch but you know deep down he loves it.

he takes off your constrictive clothing so all you’re left in is your underwear, and yeah his eyes linger because you’re literally perfect to him. but it’s like three am now and he just wants to get you ready for bed, so he puts one of his ground zero shirts on you because he doesn’t trust himself to not escalate the situation with you sitting naked in front of him like that.

has you sit on the sink counter in the bathroom while he hands you your toothbrush, toothpaste already squeezed out and bristles wettened. as you very sloppily brush your teeth, complaining about how the mint flavor is “too spicy”, he’s busy getting out the makeup remover and wipes.

he watches you do your little routine every night so he’s well versed in what to do. he ties your hair back and you’re surprised, like, how does he know how to tie a girl’s hair?? you figure it’s from past experience so you let him know your thoughts.

he’s red from ear to ear with blush, and he adamantly explains that “it’s not that hard to do, smartass, i didn’t learn from that.”

is all pouty and grumbly as he swipes the cotton pad across your face but his touch is sweet and so careful, loving. you lean into him like a cat, and he gets even redder because fuck you’re really cute.

after you’re done brushing your teeth, katsuki hands you a glass of water and tells you to drink it, or else you’re not getting any cuddles tonight.

“slow down dopey— i didn’t mean all in one go!”

he puts on your skincare stuff too, and he even rubs it into your skin in the right direction and pressure.

you just kinda sit there and then suddenly you’re tearing up because your man is so considerate ?? and gentle?? and he’s just, ugh, perfect and all yours and you’re just really in your feelings all the sudden.

katsuki is shook when he stops focusing on rubbing the moisturizer into your neck to see tears gathering along your lower lashes.

“hey, what’s wrong, princess? did something happen? do you feel alright?”

you just pull him close and hold him tight. and katsuki is the smartest guy you know, he picks up all your social cues. so he softly wraps his strong arms around you, calloused fingers rubbing into your scalp.

“i just really love you,” you whimper, muffled his now damp shirt. “i’m sorry for keeping you up, i meant to just sneak in and slide into bed. you don’t have to do all this.”

he’s quiet for a moment before he squeezes you carefully, letting out a low sigh. “you worry too much, baby. you know i’d do anything for you...” he leans back and his thumb rolls over your wet cheek, eyes half lidded and a small, sincere smile on his lips, “and, i really love you too.”

kirishima:

kiri isn’t really the type to get super overprotective, and he does his fair share of partying so he is more than understanding when you tell him you’re going to the club with the girls.

he does pout a little when you tell him he can’t come, but he quickly accepts the fact because he understands it’s “girls’ night” and he probably wouldn’t want to be there for that anyway. although he does quip out a small comment about how sexy you look in your clubbing outfit, and how much sexier it’s gonna look on your bedroom floor later on.

safe to say you leave the house with a blush on your cheeks and a little heat between your legs.

you’re out with the 1A girls tonight— you’d all stayed pretty close after graduation and somehow you’d finally managed to get a night that all of you could attend. you can’t remember how many rounds of shots go by, and by the time the club is closing, your friends are all in various stages of drunkenness.

tsuyu and ochaco are playing some children’s hand game and singing along to it while they clap their hands together incessantly, jirou and hagakure are stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk as some kind of competition and yelling in indignation, and mina and momo have their arms around your shoulders as they debate what would be tastier right now: takoyaki or taiyaki.

honestly you keep tripping up on the words because they sound so similar, so the conversation just keeps going in circles until one of you finally decides to call a cab.

it’s about one in the morning— the group had left the club to get a snack before the easy mart across the street closed and you’d each gotten probably too many foods, your eyes bigger than your stomach.

kirishima laughs when you walk into the apartment, wobbling a bit with the (surprisingly full) plastic “thank you!” bag swinging around in the air.

“hey babe, whatcha got there? woah now—“

he reaches out and catches you before you tumble over, a red brow raised teasingly at your questionable balance.

“you alright baby?”

his voice is always deep, but it sounds even more intoxicatingly velvety in your drunken stupor, and all you do is give him the eyes with your tongue poking out between your lips.

he laughs at you again, nodding and whispering a “later, eager girl” in your ear as he sits you down on the couch, large hands fiddling with the straps on your ankles.

kiri frowns as the heel comes off, angry red marks marring the top of your foot, the back of your ankle faring even worse with a blister rubbed raw laying there.

you hiss when he touches it experimentally, a look of surprise on your face and frustration on his.

“y’know you’re really deadly in those heels babe, but if i’d known they’d hurt ‘ya i wouldn’t have let ‘ya wear ‘em out for so long…”

he disappears into the bathroom for a moment only to come back with the first aid kit. he gingerly holds your foot with one hand, the other dabbing some antibacterial cream onto the wound. he rips the wrapper with his pointy teeth, and you stifle a laugh at his red hero logo littered across the bandage.

he chuckles at your laughter, pressing a gentle kiss to your knee as he repeats the action on the other foot.

once he’s done and you’re all bandaged up, he sits next to you on the sofa, pulling your legs up across his lap.

he is not afraid to stay up late with you— actually, he prefers it because he just loves talking with you, especially when you’re all giggly and blushy because of the alcohol. plus he doesn’t want you to go to sleep still drunk (which he can tell you clearly still are), cuz he thinks you’ll have more of a hangover and it’s not that he doesn’t wanna take care of you tomorrow, it’s that he doesn’t want you to be in any pain if you can avoid it. he is a gentleman after all.

kiri inquires how your night out was, and you inform him of all the fun you’d had with the girls. he nods as he listens, big hands coming to rub your feet with the tiniest bit of strength— just enough to soothe your aching feet.

he tends to your every need;

fetching you an icy water bottle and encouraging you to drink from it frequently— “take another sip for me baby, I’ll add another minute to your massage if ‘ya do— haha that’s it, good girl!”

turning on the fan when you say you’re a little warm— “you’re hot? yeah i know. kidding. lemme get the fan for ‘ya.”

flicking on the TV and putting on your choice of entertainment. he doesn’t mind that it’s that show you love, even if it’s his third time watching this particular episode— “great choice babe, this one’s funny… hey, what’s that look for? of course it’s alright, i love this show!”  

it’s more of a background noise anyway as he talks with you, genuinely enjoying your company and just being there with you. he just wants to chat with you; share your smiles and hear your thoughts from the night, make silly jokes about the show and hear your laugh, lay his cheesy pickup lines on you even though you’ve been his for quite some time now.

and it’s so cute to him how you stumble on your words and amuse yourself when you’re drunk like this, and then when you remember you had bought snacks he swears his heart skips a beat at your squeal of excitement.

“this one’s for you!” you chime happily, hand outstretched and offering the box of pocky to him. his heart melts a little (okay maybe a lot) at your gift— he’d said he was craving chocolate last night and you had remembered, even in your intoxicated state.

gosh, he really loves you.

he’s about to voice the emotion when his thumb brushes over the perfect spot on the arch of your foot particularly hard, and a loud moan erupts from your lips, your brow furrowing and your lip pinching between your teeth.

you share a heated look before he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“thanks babe, but the pocky’ll have to wait,” he murmurs as he tosses the box aside, pushing the bag of snacks onto the floor. crawling over your legs with a sharp-toothed smirk on his lips, he growls lowly, a glint in his crimson eyes. “there’s something else i needa taste of now…”

➥ masterlist — thanks for reading as always :)

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[stars-falling]

late night at the local convenience store (elriel)

summary: elain, desperate for snacks, visits her local store late at night and bumps into her supposed rival (and he's hot).

prompt: esteemed rival chefs find each other shamefully buying ramen at 3 in the morning AU

word count: 1985

note: welcome to the first july upload! this piece was written for a writing month challenge and i had great fun with it! i'm really excited for the other pieces i'll be posting over the next month. i hope you enjoy them as much as i enjoyed writing them! i'll continue working on other pieces over the month too, so there will be more coming after july (hopefully i can finally finish part 2 of both a storm and a summer's day).

in the meantime, hope you enjoy!

lily (tysm for 760 followers btw! love you all <3)

read here on ao3 // masterlist

*******************************

Archeron’s Kitchen was the most popular restaurant in Velaris. It had the best food, the best drinks, the best atmosphere, and Elain had never been more proud to say that she was the Head Chef. It had taken years of hard work from both her and her two sisters to reach the level they were at now and they only continued to grow. The sisters worked closely together: Nesta (the eldest) directed the finance and other admin, Feyre (the youngest) worked on the design aspects and managed the staff and Elain manned the menus and the actual cooking. They worked well together, with only minor disagreements happening occasionally, and soon they had rocketed to the most well known and sought after restaurant in Velaris.

This was why she was contemplating her life choices as she pulled up to the local convenience store to buy ramen at 3 am. It wasn’t even the nice ramen; it was the crappy 50p packet of ramen that took less than a minute to cook. She often tried to utilise her skills to cook herself the healthiest and tastiest meals but recently she had been working overtime due to another restaurant's rising popularity. The two staff had even formed some sort of rivalry, trash-talking each other in the streets and slandering the other restaurant to their patrons. She found it childish, so Elain didn’t partake, but she did find it mildly amusing. The new restaurant was several streets over and it was the opposite of Archeron’s Kitchen in every way. Where they were warm and cosy, Starfall was sleek and modern. Where they focused on comfort foods, Starfall served new and innovative dishes. People went to the Archeron’s for the food, whereas people went to Starfall for the experience. And where the Archeron’s Kitchen was run by three sisters, Starfall was run by three brothers.

She had never actually met them. She knew their names and what they looked like but in terms of interactions she had only caught a glimpse of two of them once before. They had stood in the main square with Feyre and Nesta arguing about the importance of serving classic food. Her sisters had both come away grumbling about ‘upstart assholes with no sense of tradition’. As far as Elain was aware, the two brothers they had argued with weren’t actually in charge of the menu, making her unsure if they had full authority over the subject, but she didn’t want to start them off again so she refrained from mentioning it.

Elain pulled into an empty parking space and took a moment to lay her head against the headrest and close her eyes. She was tired and hungry. There was no food in the fridge, her bank account was looking quite sorry for itself and she still had more menus to plan and ideas for new dishes to brainstorm. Steeling herself, she hauled herself out of the car and locked it as she walked to the bright light of the store. She pulled the hood of the tattered sweatshirt she wore over her head as a precaution against recognition. With the status of a semi-famous chef, she didn’t want anyone to see her in the somewhat pitiful state she was in. The bell rang as she pushed open the door, signalling her entrance. The bright flickering lights and cool temperature made it feel like she was entering a separate dimension, one that lacked all sense of time and direction. Elain nodded at the cashier as she walked past them, making a beeline to the snacks aisle. She was greeted by a wide range of ramen, the different flavours and prices making it difficult to choose. She had about £1.50 in her purse and she desperately wanted a coffee too so she would have to be frugal. She was so engrossed with her ramen selection that she failed to notice a person coming up beside her. When she swivelled around to check the time on the obscenely large digital clock above the checkout, she crashed into them hard, causing her, them and the copious amounts of ramen they had piled in their arms to go flying to the floor.

Elain let out a yelp as she landed hard on her tailbone and felt her face heat up.

“I am so sorry!”

A deep, warm chuckle floated toward her and her head snapped up to look at its source. She found hazel eyes staring back. A large man with tan skin and dark hair sat in front of her, surrounded by many colourful packets of ramen. Her heart fluttered slightly as he smiled at her. He was handsome, even in this shitty convenience store lighting at 3 am dressed in similar attire to her.

“Don’t worry about it. I should have been paying more attention. Are you okay?”

She nodded before sitting up fully and helped to gather the ramen that lay around them. He smiled at her gratefully and they sat in content if not slightly awkward silence as they pulled the packets into a pile before finally rising. As she looked closer at him, a spark of recognition kindled within her.

“Do I know you?”

He looked at her curiously, tilting his head.

“I’m not sure but you do look familiar.”

They stood analysing each other. Normally the staring would make her uncomfortable, but with him, she found it didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should have. This went on for about a minute before she saw realisation set into his eyes.

“You’re Elain Archeron. The Head Chef for Archeron’s Kitchen. Why are you buying shitty ramen at 3 am? Shouldn’t you have made yourself a three-course meal by now?”

Elain felt something drop inside her. She hadn’t noticed that her hood had fallen off when she fell, exposing her and her shameful ramen buying to the whole world. But as he laughed softly, she remembered where she recognised him from.

She scowled at him as she said, “ Well you’re Azriel Knight, Starfall’s Head Chef, so you can’t exactly talk.”

She gestured to the stack of ramen that she had just helped pile into his arms. He turned away slightly as if to hide them.

“My stash had run out, okay. I need it to keep me going when I stay up late planning dishes.”

“I get that. That’s why I’m here right now.” She replied and a mutual understanding passed between them.

Elain knew she shouldn’t be talking to him right now, the reminders of the supposed rivalry between the two restaurants loomed like a shadow behind her. But the longer they spent together, the more she found herself not caring.

“I feel like we should be arguing,” He told her. “If my brothers were here, they would have been kicked out for yelling by now.”

She smiled, “Same for my sisters. But I’ve never really cared to be honest. I just want to focus on the food, not a silly competition that people seem to be taking too seriously.”

He nodded in agreement and they both began to walk to the cashier.

“So, what kind of dishes are you planning then?” She asked. “I promise I won’t steal any ideas. It’s not my style anyway.”

“I”m not a hundred percent sure on the actual contents of the dish right now, but I’m currently trying to create a more experimental menu. We recently unveiled a new line of drinks that have a more theatrical element to them. Colour changing, dry ice, bubbling, the whole shebang and I wanted to design a food menu that went along with that.”

He turned away from her to pay the cashier, giving her a moment to turn over his words in her head. She’d gotten a glimpse at some of the drinks and food from when she had taken a look at (read: stalked) their website and various social media sites. She had called it ‘scouting out the competition' when really she was curious to see what had set them apart enough for them to have such a rise in patronage. Whilst it wasn’t her style, she had always thought that she’d like to visit them and try what they had to offer. That was until the stupid rivalry had started and just walking by the restaurant was asking for trouble. Azriel finished paying and grabbed the plastic bag the cashier had placed his ramen in, moving out of the way so she could step up to the counter.

“That sounds amazing!” She replied. ‘I admit, I’ve always wanted to try some of your food but unfortunately, my sister’s might disown me if I even mention it. Calling them over-competitive would be the understatement of the century.”

He laughed at this and she took the opportunity to turn away and press the 50p coin into the cashier's hand. They nodded at her, satisfied and she turned back to Azriel. Together, they walked out of the door and into the cool night.

“I’d say you should stop by, but as you said, our siblings may not be too happy about that.” He let out a sigh. “As much as it amused me at first, I do wish we could just get along. I’d like to come and try some of your food too.”

He swivelled towards her, the white light from the store casting his face into shadows.

“I hope this isn’t too forward of me, but would you like to grab some coffee?”

She smiled at him, shoving the packet of ramen into her hoodie pocket.

“I’d love to. And maybe in the future, we could make some of our food for each other.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Like a date?”

She felt dread trickle in. Maybe she had misread the situation. They seemed to have been getting on well, and she had caught him checking her out when they first bumped into each other. Plus, he had just asked her to grab coffee with him. Perhaps he was just being friendly.

She swallowed anxiously before replying, “Yeah. If that’s something you’d be interested in.”

He smiled at her brightly, making her heart stutter and skip a beat.

“I’d like that.”

They stood under the streetlamps in an almost abandoned parking lot. Two head chef’s from popular restaurants with bad ramen and a budding connection between them.

“What are you feeling? Starbucks or maybe that local coffee shop down the street? I think it’s called Veritas?”

Elain hummed as they started walking along the road.

“Veritas, I think. I can get a cup of tea for a pound.” She reached into her pocket to show him her single coin.

For the second time that evening (or was it morning?), he raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought I was buying?”

She glanced at him in confusion. “Since when?”

“I thought since I had asked you it was implied?”

She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “My god, we are bad at this. I think we need to get out of the kitchen more.”

“I’m not sure about that, I’ve got plenty of pick up lines I've stolen from my chefs.” He stepped in front of her, stopping her in her path. “Baby, you’re the crème to my brûlée.”

She groaned, hitting him on the arm as she pushed past him. “That was so bad! I might leave.”

“As if you could do better.”

She pulled out her phone, searching up ‘chef pick up lines’. She grimaced, “These are all so sexual! I think it might be best if we keep flirting out of the kitchen.”

They both doubled over in fits of laughter before continuing down the street. She was glad she gave in to her cravings and went to buy ramen at 3 am. She could tell that whatever this was, it was going to turn into something great.

*******************************

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[morganaspendragonss]

god your bthb prompts are so good 😭😭, i was wondering if you could do any of these with tarlos?

rage against reflection

suicide attempt

flashbacks

forced to kneel.

not all of them, of course! pick whichever you think you’ll do best at!

my only preference is physical whump at some point, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! thank you love!

thank you my lovely!!! i chose forced to kneel - i hope you enjoy it! as always, i am looking for prompts to fill the remaining squares - if you have one, don’t hesitate to send me an ask!

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: forced to kneel

ao3 | 2.2k | tarlos

Carlos exchanged a tight-lipped look with his partner as they pulled up to the scene. Every available patrol unit had been called here, and he could see more than a few paramedic vehicles on standby in case things went south. He couldn’t help the nerves twisting his stomach into knots; hostage situations were always difficult, and there was something about today that had Carlos on edge. 

He didn’t know why, but he had the strangest sense that something was about to go very wrong.

He and Rachel walked to where the lieutenant in charge of the scene was briefing them. 

“We have reports of at least one hostile, but be aware that there may be more,” he was saying. “Presume they are armed. There are at least ten hostages, located in the conference room on the ground floor. Negotiation attempts have as yet been unsuccessful; the suspects’ motives are unclear.

“A group of you will enter the building with a view to neutralising the suspect. I’m sure it goes without saying, but do not engage in a manner that would harm the hostages, or you. Let’s not make this any more complicated than it needs to be. Understood?”

They nodded, at which the lieutenant appeared grimly satisfied. He began assigning positions, and Carlos knew even before he got to them what he was going to say.

Sure enough, “Reyes, Moreno - you’re going in,” the lieutenant said. “Get ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

Carlos’s nerves only grew as they strapped on their bulletproof vests, and he checked his gear twice to make sure he was prepared. Rachel nodded tightly at him and he returned the gesture, before heading into position.

Tightening his grip on his gun, Carlos spared a brief thought for TK. TK, who would no doubt hear about this over the news, if the numerous press vehicles arriving on scene were any indication. Carlos just hoped he would make it out of this in one piece, so he could get home to his boyfriend and collapse into his arms. 

He was broken from his thoughts by the order to enter crackling over the line. Carlos let out a shaky breath, then steeled himself, body tight as they headed stealthily through the hotel. They managed to locate the conference room without any problems, though Carlos’s instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong. 

There were four of them, though; surely one of them would have noticed if anything was truly amiss?

No sound came from inside the room. Locking eyes with Rachel, Carlos held up his fingers and silently counted down before forcing their way inside, guns drawn.

There was no one there. No one, except for the terrified hostages tied up at the far end. After sweeping the room, Carlos rushed over to them, Rachel on his heels, and began freeing them, holding a finger to his lips so they wouldn’t alert whoever had done this.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, pulling the gag out of the mouth of the woman in front of him.

She nodded. “Yes, thank you, I -” She trailed off, her eyes widening at something over Carlos’s shoulder at the same time as Rachel yelled his name.

Carlos didn’t even get a chance to turn before something cracked across the back of his head, and the world went dark.

*

He woke slowly, the fog in his brain taking a long time to clear. When it did, Carlos realised several things all at once.

One: he no longer had his gun or radio.

Two: he was tied up, and a quick glance to his right showed him that Rachel and the other two officers with them were in a similar situation.

And three: he might not make it back to TK after all.

It was this final thought that kicked his brain back into gear, and he frantically tried to come up with a plan to salvage the situation. There were two men standing on the other side of the room, and a third by the door - the hostage-takers, he presumed. None of them were looking directly at him, so Carlos tugged experimentally on his bindings. To his surprise, they were fairly loose; if he was quick, and quiet, he might be able to get free.

What he’d do then, Carlos didn’t know, but one step at a time.

Keeping one eye on the men, he carefully maneuvered himself, twisting until, at last, the ropes fell away from his wrists. He let out a relieved breath, then turned to Rachel, reaching to pull at her bindings.

He didn’t get far, however, when hands were on him, wrenching him away from her.

“Hey!” one of the men growled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Carlos didn’t answer, praying that Rachel would have the sense to finish freeing herself and do something while they were focused on him. He yanked himself out of the man’s grip and managed to deliver a blow to his face before he was grabbed again, this time being forced to his knees.

The cool metal of a gun pressed against his forehead, and Carlos didn’t miss the sound of the safety clicking off.

“Trouble, aren’t you?” the man holding the gun hissed. “We’re going to have to do something about that.”

Carlos closed his eyes, allowing his body to sag minutely. The grip they had on him was too firm; there was no way he’d be able to escape from this kneeling position without earning a bullet to the head. 

Though, he thought mournfully, there probably wasn’t anything he could do to avoid that bullet at this point anyway.

For the second time, he thought of TK, holding his face in his mind’s eye. He’d never hold him again, never kiss him again, but if he had to die, then Carlos was going to do it with the comfort that his last thought would be of TK’s smile as they had parted that morning.

Distantly, he heard a quiet click, and then -

*

TK checked his pocket for the twelfth time in five minutes as he exited the locker room, grinning when his fingers closed around the small velvet box. 

If everything went to plan, in a couple of hours, Carlos would no longer be his boyfriend, but his fiancé. The thought sent a thrill through him, though it also simultaneously set his nerves spiking. Logically, he knew nothing could go wrong; he’d planned the evening to a tee, and he was confident that Carlos would say yes.

Buying the ring had been hard, memories flashing through his mind of the last time he had been in that position. But he was doing it for all the right reasons this time, and TK knew that Carlos was it for him. Proposing would be a formality, really, though that didn’t make it any less special.

He’d even begged Carlos’s mom’s help in teaching him to make tamales, and he was going to pick up a flower arrangement on his way home.

Everything would be perfect.

His teammates were still sitting in the communal area when he entered, eyes glued to the tv screen. TK frowned; he thought they’d have all gone home by now.

Paul was the first to notice him, and TK’s concern only grew as he got everyone else’s attention, their worried gazes falling on him one by one.

“What’s going on?” he asked warily. They had a silent argument, before Marjan slowly got to her feet, approaching him hesitantly, hands clasping and unclasping in front of her.

“I know you’re probably going to anyway, but don’t freak out.” She took a deep breath and met his eyes. “There’s a hostage situation at that big, fancy hotel across town. Apparently it’s pretty serious, they’ve had to send police in, and, um, well…”

Marjan paused, and TK felt dread wash through him, knowing what her next words would be.

“He’s there, TK. He’s gone in.”

*

TK spent the next hour alternating between pacing and staring at his phone, desperately hoping for it to ring. Paul had shut the news off pretty quickly after an announcement that shots had been fired had nearly sent TK into a panic attack, and now they were all watching him closely, to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid, TK guessed.

It made his skin crawl, having so many pairs of eyes on him, even if he understood why. He appreciated it, really, but if anything, it just made the urge to run stronger. He was about to make a break for the doors - just for some air - when a shrill sound cut through the tense silence.

TK’s phone rang.

He didn’t bother to check the id before answering, almost dropping his phone in his haste. “Carlos?”

“Um, no,” a distinctly female voice said. “It’s Rachel, actually, I’m Carlos’s -”

“His partner,” TK cut in, anxiety roiling in his stomach at the knowledge that it was Carlos’s partner, not Carlos himself who called him. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Rachel answered, apparently undeterred by TK’s lack of politeness. But he barely got a moment to feel relieved before she continued, “He’s in the hospital.”

TK let out a choked sound. “Hospital?” he whispered, the team looking up at him in alarm. “Hospital isn’t fine.”

“I know; that came out wrong.” She sighed. “Carlos got caught up in the middle of the shooting and a bullet grazed his side, but he’s okay, I swear. Last I heard, they want to keep him overnight for observation, but he’ll be fine.”

TK collapsed into the nearest chair, his head falling into his hands. Someone - he couldn’t tell who - started rubbing soothing circles on his back, and TK unashamedly leaned into the touch. “Which hospital is he at?” he eventually managed.

“St. David’s.”

“Thank you, Rachel.”

“Yeah, no problem.” A pause. “He really saved our asses today. I thought you’d want to know.”

TK breathed out shakily as he ended the call, allowing himself a moment to ride out the residual anxiety still coursing through his body.

“You okay, man?” Paul asked tentatively.

TK looked up at them. “Can one of you drive me to the hospital?”

*

As Rachel had promised, Carlos was sitting up in bed when TK arrived, looking as he always did - beautiful, happy, alive. His face lit up with a grin when he spotted him, and TK all but ran to him, barely remembering to thank Judd for the ride.

“Carlos,” he choked out, tears springing unbidden to his eyes as he carefully hugged him, mindful of his wound. Carlos hugged him back, his head buried in TK’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Ty,” he said. “I’m okay.”

TK pulled back, his hands moving to frame Carlos’s face. “Are you, though?” he asked, checking his boyfriend over.

“I am,” Carlos promised. “They’re even sending me home tomorrow.”

He smiled, and TK couldn’t help but to smile back, falling into the chair next to the bed. He grasped Carlos’s hand in his own, rubbing his thumb across it as a comfortable silence fell between them.

“So much for date night, huh?” Carlos joked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

TK laughed drily. “Yeah,” he said. “Your mom’s going to be so disappointed you never got to try the tamales she helped me make.”

He said the words without thinking, and regretted them as soon as they were out. TK winced as Carlos straightened, turning to stare at him.

“You’ve been cooking with my mom?” he asked, shock and confusion evident in his voice.

“Um.” TK swallowed nervously. “Yes?”

Carlos frowned. “But… Why?”

“I, uh… Fuck.” TK closed his eyes, knowing there was no way he could talk his way out of this one. When he opened them again, he shifted in his seat, breaking their hands apart, and reached in his pocket for the ring box. “For the record, I had a whole plan for tonight, and not one part of it involved my boyfriend being in the hospital.”

“What are you talking about, Ty?” Carlos asked, bemused.

TK smiled at him, pulling the box out. Carlos’s mouth dropped open in shock when he saw it, and there were tears in his eyes when he looked back at him.

TK took a deep breath. “Carlos, these past two years with you have been the happiest of my life. You brought colour back into my life, and you’ve kept it there every single day. I love you more than I ever realised was possible, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. I never imagined that I would be asking you this in a hospital room, but I guess it’s kind of fitting for us, huh? So - Carlos Reyes, will you marry me?”

For a few nerve-wracking seconds, Carlos just stared, gaze flicking between TK’s face and the open ring box, tears slipping down his cheeks. Then, he brought his hands to TK’s face, a broad smile on his lips.

“TK Strand, I will marry you.”

And TK laughed, not caring about the tears on his own cheeks as he slipped the ring onto Carlos’s finger, leaning forward to kiss him. They were both smiling too much for it to be a proper kiss, but TK found he didn’t care - nor did he care that his plan hadn’t worked out.

Because Carlos Reyes was his fiancé, which TK thought was pretty damn perfect.

[tinybibmpreg]

finally i start another prompt challenge thing & finally i write a proper mpreg thing again lmao. anyways heres the first one im posting about my two villain ocs, Jack, the King of Spades, and Pastel. prompt 22 - Oh, you’re just grumpy

King of Spades: Just Grumpy

“Oh, you're just grumpy,” Pastel told her lover as he paced back and forth, complaining and grumbling. A few of their henchmen stood by, standing ramrod straight and still as statues. Pastel couldn't blame them for being so nervous. Jack was volatile even when he was in the best moods, and right now he was ranting and raving. “Cheer up, hon! Everythin’s on track today, you're halfway done making that new superweapon of yours, and Doc gave you a clean bill’a health this mornin’.”

Jack shot her an incredulous look. She gave him a big smile, which usually always helped to calm him when he was overstressed.

It didn't help.

Pastel supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. Doc had warned her from the start that as Jack’s pregnancy progressed, and knowing how erratic the man could be, he was bound to have moody episodes. So far the mood swings seemed to only enhance his usual ones during work- more intense anger while being thwarted by heroes, increased frustration at incompetent henchmen and difficultly building weapons, and an elevated sense of pride and elation whenever a plan or new device was successful. Not much of a change, and nothing unpleasant for Pastel. He'd settled a bit the past two months, but now that he was entering his third trimester the mood swings had come back with a vengeance.

It seemed Jack was hitting the next stage of moodiness. She hadn't been there to see what had set him off, but he had been working himself into a fit.

And now her best trick had failed.

Doc had said Jack might become unreasonable. He was pretty stubborn already, so Pastel had hoped she'd still be the one person that could always cheer Jack up no matter how upset he got.

“Just grumpy?!” Jack repeated, voice raised. Pastel laughed nervously. How wrong she'd been! Her laugh didn’t help either. “I’m miserable! This whole fucking freakshow is absolutely awful. I hate being pregnant! Having this stupid little parasite in my guts, making my life horrible-” He gesticulated wildly as he spoke, gesturing to his swollen belly as he referred to the baby as a parasite.

Pastel decided she wouldn't try to protest against him by listing what he himself had said wasn't horrible about being pregnant. He didn't look like he wanted to be reminded of his increased libido or that the baby would be inheriting his special blood type, which would let him use the child in his schemes. Maybe if he ranted for a while more he'd tire himself out and want to nap. Jack always felt better when he was well-rested. She tried to gently encourage him to get out what was really upsetting him beyond vaguely saying that he hated being pregnant. Maybe then she could help. “Oh, Pumpkin-”

She didn't get very far. “Don't ‘Pumpkin’ me! You're the reason I'm like this!”

“Actually that was Intoxic and Cal’s fault.” She wouldn't take responsibility for being pushed into their fellow villain’s weird experimental ooze twice by Jack’s nemesis, the hero Commander Cal. That wasn't her fault and Jack knew it. If anything, it was Jack’s. She’d told him both times it was a bad idea to work with Intoxic. They were brilliant at mass destruction and decommissioning heroes but had little control over what or who they destroyed and affected.

“Fine! Fine, you're right about that.” He waved that off. His anger began to morph into misery. “Sorry.”

“That's alright, hon. You're stressed. Did somethin’ happen while you were workin’ on that new thingy?” She tried to get him back on track.

“Yes. I can’t work.” Pastel glanced over at his work table. The new weapon he was building seemed to be fine, half-built as it was. There was no sign of anything having gone wrong. No burn marks or spillages, nothing smashed or scattered across the floor. His tools weren’t in their usual place, just thrown onto the table like when he got frustrated. It looked like he was screwing and welding something in place with small tools and precise measurements. She wasn’t sure what he was building, some new blaster or scanner of sorts, but it looked like it matched the blueprints Jack had hanging over the table.

Pastel wasn’t an engineer like Jack was, but everything seemed fine.

She rubbed his arms to coax him further, asking, “Why not, hon? Do you feel dizzy or tired?”

“No,” he answered, soundly utterly despondent. Their henchmen wisely all looked away, giving Jack the illusion of privacy. She lifted a hand to his face and he leaned into it. “I can’t use my tools. Everything aches and it’s too hard to walk around with my fucking back and hips, and my ankles and my hands are all swollen-” Glancing down at his hands let Pastel see that they were visibly swollen. The precise tools and tiny pieces he’d been working with would have been very difficult to use. Another glance at a nearby clock had her stifling a wince. Jack had been in his workshop since they’d gotten back from his doctor’s appointment. He’d been on his feet for hours. Jack did all his work standing and hated to take breaks while he was in the middle of a project.

No wonder he was on the verge of tears. It must have been hell on his back and ankles. Pastel sighed. She needed to start setting alarms or something to force him to take breaks. Maybe convince Jack to get a chair, at least until after he gave birth.

Those would be things to try to tackle later, once Jack was feeling better.

She stepped next to him so she could wrap an arm around him and give him a squeeze. It would have been preferable to give him a tight hug, but that was now impossible with his belly in the way and had been for a few months.

“How about we head on home so you can relax, Pumpkin? We’ll get ya off your feet and settled down, and I’ll rub your back and massage your hands. Saw something about that in one of your books.” She hadn’t thought too much about the different massage techniques one of Jack’s prenatal books listed, mostly focusing on what to do for the expected backaches. Pastel was sure it couldn’t be very different from a foot massage, which she thought she was pretty good at.

He glanced back at his work table, not too thrilled about the idea. Pastel stepped back in front of him and grabbed his wrists, lifting his swollen hands up between them. She jiggled them a bit, giving him a pointed look. “Hey…” he protested.

“Come on, hon. You know getting a massage always makes you feel better.” He grumbled and she insisted, “You don’t have to be embarrassed, hon.”

“Fine. We’ll head home.” He pulled away from her and quickly wiped at his eyes before stalking off. As he passed their henchmen, his face reddened and he hissed at them, “Not a fucking word about anything that happened today!”

A chorus of ‘yes, sir’s’ and nods followed them on their way out of the room. Pastel waved goodbye to them as she caught up with Jack, taking his arm. She took his car keys from his pocket and ignored his protest that only he drove his car. Since she was quicker than him now that he had extra weight and a new center of balance, he couldn’t try to get to the driver’s side before she was already settling in behind the wheel. She hit a button so his door slid open for him.

He grunted as he sat down, then hissed and turned away when he saw her grinning at him. “Don’t stare at me!” His ears went pink and Pastel was sure his face was just as hot. Jack was so easily flustered now.

“You’re so cute, Pumpkin.”

“Just drive.”

[lulu-zodiac]

Peppermint

Summary: Dean shares a Christmas tradition with Cas.

My second piece for @galaxycastiel and @jellydeans Destiel December 2020 challenge, written for day 7′s prompt: “Peppermint”. I had so much fun writing this, and would love to know any thoughts on it as I’m still quite nervous about posting! <3 (Also, if you want to be added to my tag list for fics, pls let me know! If you prefer to read on ao3, you can find it here)

There’s a little red tin in the glove compartment of the impala, and when Cas picks it up, he can feel the way it’s scratched and dented with age.

“What’s this?”

Dean glances over, and something unreadable passes across his face. It reminds Cas of how he looks when Sam talks about their childhood, nostalgic and complicated – not happiness, but something close. “Where’d you find that?”

“It was just in here with your Dad’s old phone, under the map,” Cas replies, turning it over interestedly in his hands. There’s a faded image on the front he can’t quite make out, worn green and silver and gold. The colours of Dean’s eyes, as he looks at Cas in the half-light of the unfolding road. “What is it?”

“It used to have peppermints in it,” Dean says, looking back to the road. There’s a wistful kind of sadness in his gaze, but a slight smile playing across his mouth. “Sammy begged Dad to buy it at some gas station when he was, I don’t know, maybe four. He didn’t even like peppermints, he just liked the Christmas tree on the front of the tin, wouldn’t shut up about it. It was filled with those red and white striped candy canes, you know the ones?”

Cas nods, watches the moving December colours play across Dean’s features.

“Well, that year we were stuck in here all Christmas day while Dad was wrapping up a hunt. Sammy was old enough to know it was Christmas, so it kind of sucked. But I got Sammy singing Christmas songs and we drew stupid snowmen cartoons on the windows, and it was okay, we passed the time. Dad was gone so long we ended up eating most of the candy canes while we were waiting, but Sammy insisted on saving the last one for Dad. He still hero-worshipped Dad at that point, even though Dad was barely a father to him – was barely even there, to see Sammy growing up” Dean breaks off momentarily, shakes his head like he’s trying to surface from deep water. Cas notes the set of Dean’s jaw, the way his knuckles are white around the wheel, resists the urge to reach out, soften them.

“Sam knows how much you did now, Dean,” he says, instead, into the quiet.  

Dean makes a dismissive sound, carries on as though Cas hasn’t spoken at all, but the tension in his hands is less strained; “Anyway, when Dad finally came back that night he was only a little beat up, in a good mood for once. He tried to take us for some real food, but everywhere was closed by that time so we just sat in here together and Dad broke the last candy cane into three for us to share,” Dean glances at the box Cas is still holding. It feels warm in Cas’s hands now, the mental heating up in his palms as he listens to the story, as though it’s slowly coming alive. “It was one of the better Christmases, actually. Dad refilled the box with them each December, handed them out to me and Sammy when we’d been driving all night. It was one of the few traditions we ever had,” he shrugs, adjusts his grip self-consciously on the wheel, “Stupid, really,” he adds, in that way he has of diminishing anything personal he says, “It’s probably empty now.”

Obligingly, Cas opens the box. It is empty, save a couple of crumpled silver wrappers, but it smells of ghostly peppermint. Cas sniffs, imagines little Dean and Sam sitting in the impala alone on Christmas day. His chest aches at the thought of Dean trying to distract Sam, keep him happy and amused while Dean was probably afraid. “I’ve never tried peppermint,” he tells Dean, inhaling again and trying to figure out the scent. It’s sharp, clean, a little powdery. Like dusty snow. “What’s it like?” he asks, curiously.

“Hard to describe to anyone who hasn’t tasted it,” Dean says, “Like most things. It’s – sweet. Kind of makes the inside of your mouth feel cold when you inhale.”

Cas looks at him, watches the lights of the road reflect in his green gaze.

“Hey, we can get some, if you want,” Dean says, nodding towards the road, “There’s a gas station just up ahead, I wouldn’t mind stopping to stretch my legs anyway.”

“I would like that,” Cas smiles at the thought of getting to taste a little piece of Dean’s history, watches as the lights get brighter and the car slows, pulling into the empty gas station.

Outside, it’s cold, the dark biting at Cas’s skin as he waits for Dean to return from the kiosk. He leans against the cool, smooth metal of the impala, stares skywards for a while. It’s cloudy, the sky is swollen with snow. Cas likes not being able to see the heavens, sometimes. On days like this, earth is full enough of wonder all by itself. The greasy spill of gas station lights on frozen concrete, a little metal box of memories in his pocket, Dean’s footsteps echoing through the quiet towards him. The lights of heaven could never compare.

“Here,” Dean’s nose is pink from the cold, eyes bright as he leans back against the car beside Cas, hands him a paper packet. “Peppermint candy canes. Go on, knock yourself out.” He sticks his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and stares up at the sky, like Cas had been moments before. Cas wonders whether Dean is comforted by the blankness too, or if he aches for the far-distant twinkling lights and their warmth, so long absent from his own life.

“Will you have one too?” Cas asks, peering into the bag and tentatively drawing out one of the striped candies before handing it back to Dean.

“Why not?” Dean’s fingers are warm against Cas’s for a moment, rough with calluses, and then there’s nothing again. He pulls out a candy and stuffs the paper bag into his pocket, begins unwrapping the little umbrella-shaped stick. “I can’t remember the last time I had one of these, you know. Probably the Christmas before Sam went off to college.” He puts the candy between his lips, sucks. Cas suddenly has to catch his breath, cold and startling in his lungs. “Hey, what are you waiting for?” Dean is looking at Cas, lips red and plump around the candy, eyes bright in the cold air.

“Oh,” Cas looks down at his own untouched candy, brings it up to his mouth and sucks experimentally. “It’s like… toothpaste,” he frowns at Dean, letting the cool, clean taste fill his mouth. He sucks again, slower, trying to get a sense of the flavour. “It’s quite nice.”

Dean’s cheeks are pink with the cold now too. “Uh – yeah, it is, I guess.” He’s looking at Cas intently in the muted lights of the deserted gas station, with an expression that is familiar yet unreadable and makes Cas feel warm even in the cold.

“This is what Christmas tasted like to you?” Cas sucks the candy again, looks at Dean.

“Once, I suppose so,” Dean sounds distracted, but his tone doesn’t match the intent focus in his gaze as he looks at Cas. The cold has made his cheeks flush darker still, and the light is muted enough that only an arc of green is visible around the black of his pupils.

“It does make my mouth feel cold,” Cas observes, with interest. He sucks the candy further into his mouth and pulls it out with a pop, feeling the cool cleanness of the air being pulled between his lips. Dean clears his throat slightly. “I haven’t encountered any other food that has this effect,” Cas licks slowly at the tip of the candy, and is aware of Dean inhaling sharply, “Do you know what causes it?”

“I don’t,” Dean’s voice is slightly hoarser than usual.

“Very interesting,” Cas contemplates, licking the tip of the candy again with a swirl of his tongue. Dean makes a stifled sound, and Cas looks up with a frown. “Don’t you want yours?” he asks, eyeing Dean’s uneaten candy, “Or do you only enjoy them when you can eat them with Sam? I’m sorry, I know I can’t provide that part of the tradition for you.”

“Sam isn’t the only person I can have good memories with, Cas. This can be a new tradition, okay?” Dean says, and he’s glowing, so beautiful here in the cold all lit up. “But,” he pauses, swallowing, “You’re right, I’m not sure I want mine.”

“You don’t?” Cas frowns, worriedly. He pulls his own candy away from his mouth.

The colour is high on Dean’s cheeks as he shakes his head, “No. I think I’d rather have yours, actually.” And before Cas can say anything, Dean’s lips are suddenly on his, soft and warm, so warm in the cold air. Cas feels as though he’s been holding his breath for years and is suddenly able to breathe. It’s wonderful, the heat of Dean’s mouth against his, the slick of his tongue twining with Cas’s, tasting of peppermint and making something hot curl deep in Cas’s stomach. His hands are cupping Cas’s face, rough skin, tender touch. Cas is breathing hard when Dean pulls back, both of their breath clouding the December air between them. “Tastes better on you,” Dean grins, and it’s a beautiful thing, tentative and free here in the cold without heaven watching.

Cas reaches out and grabs the lapels of Dean’s leather jacket, pulls him in again. This time it’s harder, urgent, Dean’s breath coming in stifled gasps into Cas’s mouth as Cas presses him back against the impala, sinks into the heat of Dean’s mouth, the warm, hard line of Dean’s body, pliant under him. He can taste the desperation on Dean’s tongue along with the peppermint, and he chases it, deepening the kiss until Dean is groaning against him, clutching at Cas’s coat. Cas thinks he might be making noises too, but he can’t think about anything except Dean, here at last in all the ways he should be, warm and real. Oblivion.

In his coat pocket, he can feel the outline of the little peppermint tin where their heartbeats edge closer to each other. He smiles against Dean’s mouth, loves that he’ll never be able to taste peppermint without remembering this; the shine of Dean’s eyes in the muted December lights, the heat of their bodies pressed together, the sky frozen and empty overhead, a blank canvas for their own stars.

[rinrinp42]

The Red Planet

For the first day of @jangobiweek, Enemies to Lovers (though it more ended up pre-relationship). It did end up longer than I expected, also there’s violence

Jango wanted to rub his temples, but he trusted Priest about as far as a Hutt could throw.  At least outside of being on contract together. He had only tracked the di’kut down because he was a good soldier.  Same with Reau.  Ward was better but also could just fade into the background to the point that it’d be hard to pinpoint what jobs he’d been on.

But then, the four of them being on this planet was Priest’s fault so honestly, it might not have been worth it.   The damn di’kut demanded they go to Ord Radama before heading to Kamino and then the solar storm hit and scrambled the nav.  And now they had crashed on this planet.

This… weird, maybe abandoned planet?  There were old building overtaken by plants and a few other old crashed ships.  Jango wasn’t even sure they were in the same system anymore.

“Hello there!” a voice cut through the cold air.

All four Mandalorians whirled to face the voice.

It was a Jetii, fresh from their kriffing temple.  His red hair was that growing out from a buzz that indicated he was recently a Padawan.

“Jetii,” Priest growled.

“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. It would seem we all were caught in that solar storm,” the Jetti grinned at them.

Jango glowered beneath his buy’ce before taking a fortifying breath.  He was starting the process to get his revenge.

“So, it would seem,” Jango spoke.

The Jetii was silent for a moment.

“Well then, I will let you be,” he spoke then and then turned away.

Reau made a sound of disgust that Jango felt in his soul. Jetii arrogance.

They found a ship that might just have a part that could be jury-rigged to get them off the planet, but it had taken them hours.  And there was something about this abandoned planet that was making Jango’s skin crawl under his kute.  He and Priest had gone in the old ship to search the parts while Reau and Ward stayed outside to keep an eye out.

Just because they hadn’t seen anyone since the Jetii left didn’t mean that there was no one else there. Especially as they kept hearing things moving just out of sight.  Even if it was weird that they couldn’t pick up anyone on the scanners.

“I don’t think this’ll work,” Priest finally sighed, “the parts you said we’d need to connect it are missing.  Maybe if one of the other ships had something similar but…”

He was right, damnit. That was the problem with having an experimental ship, the parts were sometimes so specific that he had limited options to repair it or he needed more parts than otherwise to make it work.

“There’s the buildings we haven’t gotten to,” Jango pointed out, “we should probably look there for extra parts.  I think I say a port when we were crashing.”

No need to explain why he hadn’t aimed for the port in the first place.  Priest had also seen the plant life that had creeped violently through the buildings.  The tundra like area they ended up in was better in the lack of hidden dangers for the ground.

When they exited it was to Reau scanning the horizon.  She was carefully moved her gaze from ship to ship as if she would miss something miniscule if she went to fast.

“Reau?” Jango prompted, his own hand coming up to flick on his scanners.

“Ward’s gone,” she spoke quietly, “we were circling to keep an eye on everything and he didn’t meet back up with me.  At first I thought he had seen something and slipped off to investigate but he hasn’t shown back up.”

That… that was unsettling. Ward wasn’t someone Jango was particularly close to but he knew the other man well enough that he wouldn’t expect Ward to not check in.  And Slave I was unusual enough that there was no chance of Ward finding the right piece to get off.  Especially given that Jango had a secondary part that needed to be plugged in to leave given he didn’t actually trust any of them.

“Which side was he on?” he asked, mind already racing.

Reau nodded towards the buildings, “that side.”

Well, guess they were checking out the port then.

They were about halfway there when the Jetii showed up again.  This time he was disheveled, thrown off by something.  He paused when he spotted them, eyes raking over them.

He swore violently when he saw Ward was missing.  The type of swearing that even without knowing the Jetii Jango could tell was out of place coming from him.

“How long has your friend been gone?  Did you see him get taken?”

“What’s it to you-” Jango could hear the sneer in Priest’s voice and rolled his eyes.

Was Jango the only one that didn’t let his hatred of Jetiise cloud his mind?  Obviously, he had run into something.

“Reau, tell him,” he ordered.

She stiffened and threw a glare through her buy’ce at him but answered.

The Jetii ran a hand threw his hair.

“Listen, this planet,” he spoke, eyes scanning the area around them restlessly, “it’s filled with some sort of, I don’t know, twisted organisms?  They don’t act like normal for their species and they…”

His eyes met Jango’s through the visor.

“We weren’t the only ones to crash here due to that storm.  They consumed the others.  Turned them to be like them.  At least those that they didn’t eat.”

Jango felt a chill go down his spine.  He didn’t know why he trusted the Jetii, but he did.  It was insane, but…

“We can’t leave,” he said, “our ship broke when we were landing.”

The Jetii nodded, “mine as well.  Maybe we can cannibalize my ship for your’s?  Work together to get off of this planet?  We can part ways after that.”

Jango hesitated.  He didn’t want to work with the Jetii, even if he believed what he said.  Yet the Jetiise had new ships than what they had been seeing.

“Fine.  Lead the way.”

“So, why’s a Jetii all the way out in the Esstran System?” Reau asked, “isn’t it a bit close to the Sith Worlds for your lot?”

Of course she couldn’t help but to poke at the Jetii.  Jango really shouldn’t have expected better of her.

“It was the Sith Worlds that I came out here for,” the Jetii said, “I was trying to find information on a Sith.”

Great.  A Jetii scholar.  Probably didn’t do battle often then.

“The last mission I went on with my Master we were attacked by a Sith as we were protecting the Naboo Queen.  Given that the Sith have been gone for centuries, it raised questions.”

Priest paused at that, and Jango almost joined him.

“You mean there are dar’jetiise in the Galaxy again?” Priest demanded.

Jango wanted to know as well, a sliver of unease digging into his mind, replaying every meeting he had had with his employer.

He might despise the Jetiise for the hand they had in the destruction of the Haat Mando’ade, but the dar’jetiise had used Mando’ade, had made their culture into a puppet to be directed by them, had pushed them into much that, in retrospect, had weakened them.  Historically allies meant, in truth, used and abused by the dar’jetiise.

And Jango had a feeling he had walked into yet another trap set by them blinded as he was with a lust for vengeance.  And, a voice not unlike Jaster’s whispered in the back of his mind, look what it has already led you to do.  Who you choose to work with.

The Jet- Kenobi turned back, mouth opening to reply.

It was cut off as something tackled Priest down, clawing at his beskar’gam.

It had once been human, that much Jango could tell.  But now? Now it was emancipated beyond anything he had seen, skin tight to its bones except where he could see vines writhing underneath.

Reau screamed in rage, bringing her blasters to arm and started to shoot.

Kenobi grabbed both Jango and Reau and yanked them back.

“They travel in packs; we need to move.”

Reau kept shooting as Kenobi tried to pull them along, eyes darting around, tense.  Sure enough, others joined the being in tearing Priest open like he was a lobster.

Jango pulled his arm out of Kenobi’s grip and tossed Reau over his shoulder, carrying her as she kept shooting.

“Get us to your ship Kenobi!” Jango ordered.

Honestly, kriff this entire planet.  If he could he would destroy it just to make sure no one else had to deal with this.

Kenobi gave one sharp nod and moved forward.  It took a while for Reau to stop firing and then she just snarled at him to put her down and was silent.

The Jedi Starfighter Kenobi had was a Delta-6 Sprite, luckily.  Jango had retrofitted parts of one for Slave I before.

They quickly stripped the parts they needed out.

“Can you use your Jetii powers to carry that?” Jango asked, mind racing for how to get them back to Slave I.

“Yes, but I won’t be much use in a fight if I do so.”

“That’s fine.  You stay in the middle.  I’ll take point, Reau’ll bring up the rear.  We need to get back to my ship quickly and get off.  I don’t like our chances with those things the longer we linger.”

They both nodded.

They encountered two more packs on their way back.  One they were able to avoid, seeing them a while off and diverting around some of the crashed ships.  They were tense the whole time, Kenobi keeping the parts as close to himself as possible, and they moved slowly.  But the pack wandered off, searching for meat elsewhere.

They weren’t able to avoid the second pack though.  That one spotted them between clumps of ships.  It also had a transformed Ward.  But it seemed as though Ward had taken down much of the pack before they got him, as it was only numbering 3.

Jango was able to shoot down one of them, a Zeltron in the tattered remains of black robes before they got close enough that he had to bark at Reau to join him in taking them on.

The things moved fast enough that they couldn’t get either down before they were too close for blaster fire.  Not with allies there as well and Ward still in beskar’gam, though missing one [pauldron]

Jango was able to push Ward back some with his flamethrower, the flames pulling an inhuman screech from Ward.  He kept trying to put himself between Ward and Kenobi, hoping to hold off long enough for Reau to finish off the other one and help him take down the now-inhuman Ward.

Reau, on the other hand, pulled out a kad to keep the other one back.  That one, a blond humanoid, didn’t seem bothered by the various cuts Reau landed on them.

Reau was able to end it though, when she impaled the thing and it pushed her down.  It sank down on top of her, her kad going through it more and more.  It tore at her as she struggled to keep it away.  Its hands catching on and ripping her kute before she pulled one of her blasters out.  She pressed it to the thing’s head and pulled.  It toppled over, still.

At the same time, Kenobi twisted around Jango and with a hum, his blue jetii’kad cut through Ward at the neck.

Kenobi immediately deactivated his jetii’kad as Ward fell over as well.

Jango wasn’t sure how he felt about a jetii’kad killing another Mando’ad, but.

But Kenobi had just saved his life.

“We need to move,” was the only thing he could think to say.

It was lucky.  They were close to Slave I.

They hurried there. Jango and Kenobi worked quickly and efficiently to install the parts, patching what they could.

Jango handed Kenobi the piece he had taken from the cockpit and told him to start up the ship as he grabbed Reau.

He found her outside, stripping her beskar’gam off.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“My kute was ripped,” she said, “that thing bled on me.  I won’t risk exposing the rest of the galaxy to whatever is on this planet.”

She hesitated then, looking at him.  It was a look filled with too much that he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“You would have been a great Mand’alor,” she told him, “make sure my family knows I fought bravely. Give them back my beskar’gam.”

Her lips quirked then, “maybe apologize that I couldn’t send back my blasters and kad.  I want to take as many of these [fuckers] out as I can once you two are gone.”

“’lek.”

It was all he could offer her.

He closed the hatch then.

“It’s just you and me,” he told Kenobi as he joined the Jetii in the cockpit, “Reau is staying. She thinks she’s infected.”

“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la,” Kenobi murmured.

Jango closed his eyes and the ship took off.

It was going to take a while to figure out where to go once they were free of this planet and Jango had some decisions to make about what to tell this Jetii.

Because he was going to tell him.  He refused to be a pawn to the dar’jetii and Kenobi…

Obi-Wan Kenobi cared.

[ccsthemovie2]

trick or treat 2021 letter

DEAR MY KIND AND HARDWORKING GIFTER,

hi there my ao3 is zagspect and thanks in advance for making me a piece of fic or art in this fun little exchange! heres some food for thought to munch on.

i loooove slice of life, character moments, outsider povs that make things we’re used to in canon seem absurd or funny or weird or scary, humor, horror-in-fluff’s-clothing, sweetness-found-in-horror, and also just plain sweetness. feel free to get weird or experimental with your writing if you think the moment calls for it :3 im not really requesting anything sexy-nsfw in this exchange so pls keep things down to a nice pg13 (high-rated gore for higurashi work is an exception, lol, like, it’s when they cry. that’s just part of the deal.)

🌸✨

cardcaptor sakura (trick or treat!)

clear card manga spoilers are fine with me! manga and anime canon are both fine, and mashing them up is cool too. no aus past that though, please!

clow reed

the big man himself! scare me with his his manipulative tendencies, his eternal pushpull fear of both being eternally relied on and being no longer needed, the way he treats other people, especially people who love him. (yue! the madoushi! i am into both of these being unrequited romantically on his end, but he’s not gonna just gonna tell them that, you think he’s straightforward like that?) what’s daily life like in the clowse? creating a new card, what’s that like? does everybody get along with the normal, non magic neighbors? 

yelan li

what’s up with her??? what’s her relationship with her children like, what are the responsibilities of a magician family’s head, how weird is it that clow is kind of back all of a sudden, what’s her thoughts on sakura? fleshing out a minor character is always fun :]

eriol & li

okay, so, we get to the end of the original series. syaoran returns to hong kong. ????????. syaoran is in cahoots with eriol to (vaguely alluding to cc spoilers in case you haven’t caught up in the manga), do some pretty serious magic behind sakura’s back.

so, like... what went down in the ?????

kero & sakura & yue 

they’re FAMBILYYYYY. magic found family i love them so much. show me the depths of their care for her, and hers for them, the way there’s absolutely some ice to break with yue but when he gets loyal he will DIE for you, the way sakura can mend the rift between kero and yue, the way the two of them are balancing this wonderful openness and equality with oh yeah, she’s eleven, we kind of said some seriously dark stuff in the haze of sleepover talk didn’t we? 

ruby & spinel & eriol 

pre-canon or mid-canon or post-canon! what’s the dynamic between them, a quiet night in, a day out telling people that you’re connected by whatever lie you find funniest. going to tomoeda and having to pretend youre a kid, a teen, and a cat, but goddd you could all go for an elegant and adult glass of wine right now (especially the cat). what horrors are lurking in that house from the clow era that no one cares to address? like emotionally and also because it’s a magic wizard house with magic stuff in it. 

touya/yukito/yue 

i am here for any and all angles of this ship- all together, your touyukis, your yuetouyas, your yuekitos if you wanna get in on a rarely seen angle! (but pls have touya and/or yukito be 18+ at a time where yue shows interest in them). i wanna see the way they interact! how they deal with, you know, the everything! pre-relationship pining, going on a date, touya and yukito in college wondering if they’ll end up having different majors, different paths for the first time. yukito seeing yue on video for the first time (OH NO HES HOT), yukito and yue figuring out internal boundaries, etc etc etc.  

naoko and touya 

the girl who loves ghosts and the guy who sees (or, used to see), ghosts! does she follow him to one of his haunts (pun intended)? does he have to go to her for ghost sensing advice now that he’s a regular old human? does he have to save her from a ghost that means her harm? how excited is she to tell sakura about the COOL GHOST I MET WITH YOUR BROTHER OMG U DIDNT TELL ME HE LIKES GHOSTS??? and how much does sakura wanna sink into the ground lololol

🌹⚔️

revolutionary girl utena (trick or treat!)

ohh, what a place of scary happenings! tell me a fairytale, even if it’s not such a good idea. pre, mid, postcanon, im fine with it all. feel free to weave a web with easter egg references to any other media you feel is right for the moment- utena is all about Genre and Stories!

shadow girls 

i love them i love their whole everything. i wanna see a play, i wanna see them interact with other characters! what if they do a play AS the other characters, ooooh.

anthy/utena 

THE GIRLS WHO INVENTED LOVE THEMSELVES. ive read a thousand stories of them finding each other and it never gets old. id love to read about their life post-ohtori, especially the not-so-happily-ever-after parts- the old wounds reopening, the fights, and how they work through it, wont lose each other ever again. 

saionji/touga

what’s spookier than toxic masculinity? both of them miserably stuck, saionji obsessed with touga, touga believing anyone who believes in friendship is a fool. bro we are taking shirtless pictures among 500 potted cacti....why does my heart hurt..... oh shit its the cactus i rolled onto it ow ow

nanami

nanami being nanami! she’s got no clue how to act ever, she’s desperate, she’s trying SO HARD. i’d love to see a nanami finally getting out of there, too. leaving home with nothing but the clothes on her back, diamonds in her necklace, and a wheeled suitcase of raw eggs.... (crunch crunch crunch)

🎲🗓

higurashi when they cry (trick or treat!)

i’m a gou/sotsu enjoyer and gonna prompt about that a lot but original flavor is, of course, great too. pls dont go too heavy on info outside the main 8+saikoroshi+gou/sotsu? i haven’t read those. ive read umineko+ciconia though so references there are fine :3

rena/mion/keiichi

college days! getting together, crushing on each other, poly relationship figuringouts? dates that are just club meetings with kissing and all the ridiculousness of that.

satoko/rika

gou/sotsu era TOXIC LESBIAN EPIC MOMENTS!!!!!! obsession and desperation and satoko putting all her emotional eggs in rika’s basket no matter how angry she is with her, rika’s love for satoko across 100 years and how that all crumbles (to satoko) in the face of rika’s Cool School. rika wanting satoko to go to school with her so so so bad. deep pain and misunderstandings and acting badly (like, murder badly), and then, we hope, atonement and something new beginning? i love character moments where someones so obsessively in love it feels like its eating them up inside.

rena & satoko

look, rena’s smart and really pays attention to how people feel and i think, before or after satoko becomes a looper but especially after, she would make an attempt to have a heart to heart with satoko. and satoko, as a looper, will politely brush her off, will go you dont know me you can’t affect me. youre just a chess piece. when i get to the miracle world where rika loves me, ill listen to you. this you is here to die, or to kill. 

eua

oh eua is just using satoko up like a bar of soap and it takes satoko way, way too long to realize. evil girltalk/crush advice from the witchmom perhaps?

shion

meakashi made me LOVE her. internal shion moments, perhaps? shion being an empath (decides what ppl are thinking and instantly believes it)? shion in gou-era wanting to talk to satoko about st. lucia’s, but she never shows up to dinner?

okay i think that’s all for now!!! thanks and i hope you have fun!!!

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Gift of One’s Self

Day 3 of 2020′s 31 Days of Ficmas.  Thanks @doctorroseprompts​!

Prompt: Shopping

Rating: T (discussions of sex & sex toys; no “use”)

Pairing: 13xRose (AU)

Summary: Sparks fly when just before Christmas Jane comes into the adult toy store where Rose works, leading them to reevaluate what they think they’re looking for in a partner and making the connection of a lifetime.

2020 31 Days of Ficmas masterlist

AO3

---

Rose stood behind the cash register, humming along to the Christmas music piping through the store. It was her first Christmas season in several years not spent at Henricks, and though she was still in retail, the boutique adult toy shop she’d joined in August had an easier-going pace; though business had picked up in the last few weeks as December drew near, it didn’t come close to the frenetic pace of the department store.

Especially not at ten in the morning on a random Tuesday.

The bell above the door tinkled, forewarning the entrance of a customer, and she straightened from where she’d been slouched on the counter, pasting on her best customer service smile. “Good morning, welcome to Handled With Love, can I help you today?”

The woman bee-lined towards her, eyes wide and directed towards the ground, and Rose held back a sigh. She was late twenties like Rose, also with peroxide blonde hair, and the overpowering air of someone who had never seen a sex toy before, and didn’t want to now.  Her cheeks were already crimson, and likely not from the reasonably moderate temperature outside.  This’ll be fun.

“Hi,” the woman muttered, peeking up at Rose as she reached the counter.  “Erm, I’m here for a pickup – Amy Pond?  It’s Hen Night stuff.  She called to say I was coming.  Jane Smythe?”

“Yes, of course, hang on.” Rose verified the details in the order book, glancing at the woman’s proffered ID long enough to confirm the name. “Thank you.”  Turning, she dragged the prepared bag out from under the back counter, settling it before the woman with a thunk.  “Shall I review the order with you?”

The woman, Jane, had found enough courage to lift her head, but was staring at the sample-size lubes in front of the cash register with more than a hint of fear.  “Er…”  Fumbling in her pocket, she pulled out a piece of paper.  “Can you just…”

Rose accepted it, laying it on the desk and checking off the items compared to the order.  “First time in a sex shop?”

“That obvious?” Jane flinched.  “Erm, yeah. I don’t really… do that.”

“What, have sex?” Rose’s eyes widened in horror, darting up to look at the woman, cringing inside.  “I’m so sorry, that was completely inappropriate.  Forget I asked.”

Surprisingly, she relaxed slightly, offering Rose a tentative smile.  “It’s okay.  And, yeah, basically.  I’m… I’ve never had an interest in it.  Amy called it something- but, honestly, I’d already tuned her out.”

“Asexual.  Means you don’t experience any sexual attraction.” Her own cheeks heated a little; part of the reason she’d taken this job (against her mother’s objections) was to lose some of her prudishness, wanting to be more comfortable with her own sexuality.  That had meant a crash course in all things preference and gender related, all kindly included as part of her on-boarding. “Nothing wrong with that.”  Checking off the last item, she folded the list back up and handed it over.  “I just need you to sign here,” she slid the order page over, “as confirmation of pick-up. It’s all paid for already.  Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Jane bit her lip, warm brown eyes darting around.  “Well… actually, I need a hen party gift, and Amy suggested I try something here.  But I know nothing about any of it.  Like I said.”

Rose gave her another warm smile.  “I’d be happy to help,” she agreed.  “D’you have a car you want to take this to first, or keep it behind the desk until you’re ready to go?  Just so you’re not lugging it around the store.”

“I’ll take it to the car,” she said with gratitude.  “Excellent idea.  I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tale.”  Gingerly grabbing the bag, she gave Rose a grin and trotted out the door, holding the bag away as if it was a bomb.

This’ll be interesting, if she comes back.

-

She did, and Rose spent over an hour helping her – it didn’t take long to find something for the bride-to-be, but to Rose’s surprise, halfway to the register the woman confessed that she was maybe open to finding something for herself.  It had taken all of Rose’s experience in retail to not react to that, and eventually, helped her pick out something fairly tame that was a good ‘starter’.

Jane crossed her mind occasionally throughout the day, bringing a smile to Rose’s face – it had felt good, to help someone get more in touch with themself, and when she slid into bed that night and pulled out her own favorite “massager” (thank you employee discount!), her thoughts drifting towards the other woman and her toy, she realized she’d been attracted to her.

Oh.  Switching off the vibrator Rose sat up, staring blankly at the wall.  Is that what this is?  With the exception of an experimental phase shortly after the crashing and burning of her relationship with Jimmy, she’d never really considered the idea.  It wasn’t that she was opposed to dating girls, she’d just… never really done it, other than a few drunken hookups.  Is that what I want?

She had lots of questions, but no answers – the most pressing being, Will I ever even see her again?

-

Jane sat on her bed, knees curled up to her chest, staring at the innocent-looking wand sitting in front of her.  Asking the shop girl about it had been instinct – purely a delay tactic, not ready to leave her presence but not sure why.  She’d felt funny, talking to her – like she had a menagerie inside her stomach, her palms sweaty and shaky.

No, not ‘shopgirl’. Rose.  “Rose,” she said out loud, savoring the feel of name on her tongue. The woman’s face flashed before her eyes, Jane’s heart jumping at just the thought of her – but it wasn’t just her face.  An odd pulsing feeling low in her hips had cropped up every time Rose had smiled at her, pink tongue peeking through pearly white teeth; even now, Jane’s stomach swooped at the thought.

“This has never happened to me before,” she informed the vibrator, feeling a need to defend herself – against what, she didn’t know.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”  That was a lie; like any good scientist, she’d googled the sensations as soon as she was home, and been informed she either had some untreatable disease – or a crush. A crush.  I’ve never had one of those.  That was a lie too; she had, once, at uni, but it had been fleeting, easy to squash and a distant memory.

This, so far, hadn’t. In fact, the more she tried not to think about the shopgirl (Rose), the more she did; her bright eyes, her kind smile, the snug fit of her jumper…

I think I’m in trouble.

-

It took Rose the better part of a week (and three good wanks, not that she’d ever admit that) for Jane to fade to a background thought.  Throwing herself into Christmas shopping and planning had helped, and by the end of the second week, she’d written the “incident” off as little more than a lapse in judgement, and perhaps excessive vanity or narcissism, given their similar appearance.

In fact, she’d worked so hard to remove the encounter from her memory, that she’d managed to stop her heart from leaping every time the bell chimed.  Which meant that when it went off first thing the Monday before Christmas, she didn’t look up from the inventory she was stocking, merely calling, “Welcome to Handled With Love, I’ll be with you in just a mo’.”

“Take your time.”

The familiar voice startled Rose so badly she dropped the armful of inventory, and after ducking down to pick it up, came face to face with a blushing, grinning Jane with an armful of dildos.  “Hi,” she said, somewhat breathless, before trying for something more in the realm of professional.  “Erm, hello. What brings you in today?”

“Hi.”  Jane looked as delighted to see her as Rose felt, butterflies taking flight in her gut.  “I- erm- thank you for the recommendation, before.  I’m interested in… expanding my collection.”

“You are?”  Rose cleared her throat, trying again with less surprise.  “I mean, you are?”  I’m never going to get through this if I have to keep repeating myself.  It was almost immediately clearly that while she’d been ignoring the slight attraction she’d felt, it had developed into a full-blown crush on its own.

Jane nodded, twisting her hands in front of her.  “Maybe something a little more advanced?”

Rose fought desperately to reengage her salesclerk brain.  “Sure.  What did you think of your previous purchase?  What did you like or not like?”  Looking down at the armful of artificial cocks she still held, she dumped them back in the box haphazardly.  “Shall we?”

-

Jane blushed and stuttered her way through the next twenty minutes, shyly admitting to having actually tried with the toy several times but getting disappointing results.  Rose was kind and encouraging, gently guiding her towards a different sort of product she thought might help.

The entire time she tried to work up the courage for what she really wanted, dithering over signing the credit card slip in an attempt to delay the inevitable.

“Is everything all right?” Rose asked, wide eyes concerned and feeling like they could see straight through to her soul.  “I haven’t pressured you into this, have I?  If you’re not happy-”

“It’s not that,” Jane cut her off, tucking her hair behind one ear.  “I just… I’m nervous it’s not going to, you know, work.  For me.”

Rose nodded.  “Sure, I get that.  So, our return policy really only applies to things not opened or used – for sanitary reasons – but…”  Reaching behind the counter, she pulled out a business card, scribbling quickly on the back. “This is my information, if you’re really not happy I personally guarantee you your money back within 30 days, & I’ve written it here for you.  I care more about your happiness than the sale.  Okay?”

“Okay.”  Jane accepted it, knowing she would never make use of the generous offer – as far as she was concerned, the only thing more embarrassing than buying a sex toy was returning one.  Dropping it into her purse, she knew it was now or never.  “This might be completely inappropriate-”

“It’s okay, go ahead,” Rose reassured her when she paused.

“Thanks.  Erm, the problem may be that I don’t know what I’m doing, with this or the other thing.”  Jane licked her lips.  “Do you do demonstrations?”  In for a penny, in for a pound.  “Or personal assistance?”

Rose’s eyes widened, and when she didn’t say anything for several seconds, Jane started to pray for death, but before she could take it back, the other woman said, “Only if you buy me dinner first.”

They stared at each other.

“I’m kidding about the ‘you paying’ bit, but… I would like to get to know you better.  Would that be okay?”

Okay?  Okay?!  Jane was practically floating.  “Very much so.  Maybe dinner, drinks…” she trailed off, sure her face was scarlet, heart ready to beat itself out of her chest.  “Mind you, I’ve never done this before.”

“So you keep saying.” Rose’s lips twitched.  “How about this – we go Dutch on dinner, I’ll bring a bottle of wine, and if I can’t sufficiently demonstrate the effectiveness of your purchases, I’ll refund them personally and buy you breakfast.”

“Deal.”

They shook on it.

-

A year later

“Open it, open it, open it,” Rose chanted, bouncing on her knees.  They’d decided Christmas morning was just for them, having been at Jackie’s the evening before and going to Jane’s family for lunch, leaving them to enjoying their first Christmas together in their new, shared flat.

“All right, all right,” Jane laughed.  “I’d say keep your pants on, but…” she trailed off with a wink, eyes lingering on the ample skin Rose’s skimpy nighty didn’t cover.  Not that she was any more covered up, in boy shorts and a tank.  “What do we have here?”  Tearing at the paper, she was only slightly surprised to see the logo of their favorite brand of adult toys.  “You’re a sex fiend, Rose Tyler.”

“Shut up.”  Her girlfriend just grinned, waving for her to continue.  “You’ll like it, I promise.”

Jane finished removing the paper to find a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs still in the box, and laughed. “Are these a gift for you, or me?” She leaned forward, kissing her in thanks.  “I do like it, though how much depends on your answer.”

“Both of us, obviously,” Rose replied, tickling her calf.  “But turn it over.”

She did, laughing harder at the Blu-Ray of the 1952 movie Houdini – she’d mentioned in passing being a fan of his tricks weeks earlier, and apparently Rose had been listening.  “Okay, I love it.”  Setting the gifts down, she leaned towards Rose again, this time cupping her cheek and giving her a slower, deeper kiss.  “Happy Christmas, my love.”

“Happy Christmas.” Rose opened her eyes, smiling softly. “To many more.”

“Hear, hear.  Now, that’s the last of the gifts and we’ve got several hours before we’re due anywhere.  What say you we break these in?”

They raced for the bedroom, and in the end, they both won.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Hello! Writing prompt for you! in your after studio au what about the point of view of the toons finally free inside an unknown world? Do this only if you want or if you haven't already done it. Thank you very much ^w^

Summary: After the studio, there's a lot of new development with the toons.

Another case of getting two birds with one stone. I had a request on AO3 for some Sammy X Norman goodness for Post-Studio AU and I also wanted to play around with the toons, so here you go!

[[MORE]]

One of the hardest challenges was without a doubt healing and rehabilitating the twisted and imperfect toons that had come out of Joey's revolting experimentation. Creatures that had once been broken, feral and horrifying to look upon if just from how wrong their forms had turned out. Pipers, Fishers and Strikers that hadn't been good enough to be Charleys, Barleys and Edgar's, among a few other creatures that had evaded Henry during his journey through the damned cartoon studio.

Toons that were slowly stabilizing and becoming less what he associated with danger and more similar to what they were truly meant to be, if not a little unique in their own way.

Well, not counting the ones that had been absorbed by those who had "donated" pieces into their creation that is… Some toons just weren't meant to be and others were just the missing piece that a Searcher needed to ascend into higher thought as a Lost One.

Still, even after a series of purges, there remained a few sets of Butcher Gang clones as well as one singular Chester creature.

There was also something else that had been a little alarming at first. What Henry could only describe as pulsating "embryos" (not really but he didn't know what else to equate them to) that had been formed from excess ink that had sloughed off from the more stable studio employees.

A process that didn't start immediately after leaving the studio, rather, a few months after everyone started to settle.

Henry still couldn't forget the vivid image of Sammy being sick for an entire week, spitting up ink every so often, and then throwing up a massive blob of congealed ink that had slowly shaped itself into a Bendy clone with the most unsettling pair of eyes he'd ever seen. He doubted Sammy himself could forget the disturbing experience, and was also pretty sure he was a little traumatized by it.

Even so he seemed to almost have taken to toon in as if he were his own child. Not as worrisome as veneering the little fella, but still quite hard to grasp considering his… unorthodox birth…

"Any more Searcher incidents since I've been gone to check on the girls?" Henry had asked as he was let inside by Allison, catching a whiff of breakfast being cooked. Pancakes and coffee from the smell of things. Like a quaint little cafe or the Stein household in his youth. Comforting.

"Not since two weeks ago. All Searchers have actually become Lost Ones since you've been gone." She'd responded as she led the old cartoonist into the spacious kitchen.

The table was quite long, and the seats provided were no longer mostly composed of pillows and stacks of books to boost certain inhabitants of the house. The Projectionist was still forced to kneel to eat thanks to the added weight of the machinery that was a part of his body, but he didn't complain from where he was leaning into Sammy and his height more than compensated for it anyway. Henry could just about see Susie carefully braiding the many tangled wires and thick cables connected to the Projectionist's head and back.

"Uh, really? How many toons left then?" Glancing around he noted that not everyone had come down to eat yet. Tom and Buddy likely both being in the bathroom washing up from running outdoors. A favourite activity of his.

"Three sets of Butcher Gang clones. Two are incomplete." Allison explained. "We think we know who was the originator of the complete set, but their Charley has stated that the trio is fairly happy to remain as they currently are. They are nearly perfect if you ignore the heavy scarring and prosthetics."

"I take it that's Mr. Allwine's set?" Henry guessed. Humming in understanding when she nodded rather than verbalizing her confirmation.

"I recall Mel now that things are coming back to me. He really enjoyed voicing those three, so I'm not surprised he'd rather remain as the Butcher Gang." Susie added as she finished the messy braid of wiring. "I'll miss his jokes though…"

"I certainly won't. He was a jackass at best…" Sammy huffed, eyeing the unblinking toon currently hiding under his chair. "Don't repeat that around the Edgars… Charley and the Barleys will wallop you into fine impish ink."

"M'not stupid." The little imp retorted in Sammy's own voice, although it sounded much younger. Less weighted down by a bitter and heavy conscience.

"I'm not implying that you are, just giving you a fair warning. Socialized or not, those crooks are always eager to pick a fight." Like a parent passing on sage advice, Sammy offered the little wandering menace a pat before pressing a kiss to the Projectionist's neck.

The larger ink man rumbled happily and seemed content between his two favourite people, and even passed a piece of toast to the little devil hidden under the chair. They made for an odd family unit, but Henry was very sure they were happier than they'd been for a long time.

"Sometimes I forget you had to raise a kid before all this…" Henry chuckled, amused by the domesticity of it all, before turning back to Allison. "The incomplete sets?"

"Not a clue. Well, there's one that's just an Edgar, but we know he was part of Grant… Although he reformed without needing to assimilate that piece." She shrugged "The little guy is more mature than the other two Edgars. I'd say he's more of a teenager even."

"And the remaining incomplete set?"

"An Edgar and a Barley. They lost their Charley a while back, but they haven't clung to any particular employee that we can tell… Grant's Edgar has been around them a lot though, so they seem content." Allison flipped the pancakes over as she spoke. "They also orbit around Mel's Butcher Gang. I think his Charley makes them feel safe."

"Good to always have an emotional safety net I suppose…" Henry was at least glad that they hadn't reverted into feral creatures. Socializing them had been pretty difficult considering how messed up they'd been from their failed creation process. Like teaching feral cats to trust. "Anything else?"

"Norman's been leaking a little." Sammy offered. "Not enough to be alarming, but just about enough that we're sure we're uh… Well. Expecting extra company."

As if to prove Sammy's point, the Projectionist let out a choked wet cough, the tube connected to his esophagus uncoiling and shuddering before a blob splattered onto Sammy's lap.

Henry winced at the mess, and gave the curly haired musician a sympathetic look as his face went completely blank. Likely registering what had just happened.

"Ewwww…" the not quite perfect Bendy clone inched away from the drippy mess, while Susie shook her head and got up.

"I'll get the napkins…"

In the Projectionist's defense, he looked quite sheepish for a creature that couldn't properly emote. Hunched shoulders and claws tapping together as he looked down at his knees in shame.

"Lovely…" Sammy pinched the bridge of his nose and just let the blob fall to the ground. It twitched slightly but remained as it was. "You'd think the miracle of childbirth would be nicer to bare witness to..."

"Even if it were the more conventional and biologically sound method, I can assure you it's not as beautiful as most would have you believe." Henry offered with a tight smile as he tried not to think about the tiny inky organism that was slowly reshaping itself into the vague figure of a comic strip character. "And I was there to see it happen twice."

"I take it there was a lot of screaming involved?" Sammy smiled at Susie as she returned with the napkins. He started patting the stains carefully, letting the ink soak into the napkin.

"On my part? Plenty." Henry winced "No one ever told me there's more after the baby comes out… And it didn't get easier the second time around. Linda nearly crushed my hands…"

It didn't take long for breakfast to be done and every single household member to rush down to eat once called upon.

Only now the Projectionist was holding a toon of his own, while he vacuumed up cut up pieces of pancake and orange juice.

All things considered, having a new playmate for the other toons wasn't a bad thing.

If only the little blighter wasn't a troublemaking super villain… His first action was to shoot the pancake pieces out of Tom's fork and the large toon wolf was none too pleased when the little jerk started giggling about it.

-

Binky was surprisingly the easiest of the toons to get along with, right after Buddy. Outside of the studio, the Ink Demon was no longer a sinister figure that haunted the imagination of those who'd suffered in Joey Drew's nightmare.

Instead he was something closer to the cartoon character he was meant to be. Except he was much less troublesome than the mischievous and often misguided devil darling himself. In fact, the lanky imp was rather shy.

Sure he still looked far too human in proportions, and he was still learning how to speak, but honestly nothing about him was as off-putting as Henry initially thought. He felt bad judging him on appearances alone. Just like Joey had…

And, knowing what he did now, Henry didn't blame Binky for any of what he did in the studio.

The tiresome plotline, the living Ink's conflicting will, and the isolation had been the source of the Ink Demon's violent actions.

A scared and confused toddler following the bad examples of others.

But not anymore.

Not for as long as Henry was here to protect these people and help them grow.

Binky's less rumbustious disposition also meant he had a tendency to opt for calmer and more relaxing things to do. Like sleep under the shade of a tree when the weather was nice, watching the fish swim by in the stream, or pick flowers of all shapes, sizes and colors. Often doing so while watching the other toons run around and frolik like wild children.

Most often the poor guy was the unsuspecting victim of the Wanderer's shenanigans (despite Sammy's constant reminders to play nice).

With the addition of Cameraman, things were more hectic.

Others had lost their own excess ink in the span of the few days of Henry's visit, so the roster of toons consistently grew the better some people recuperated.

Jack had actually come down to visit as well, looking positively happy to find so many were experiencing something similar to himself.

In the first week of living with his husband and roommates, he'd apparently shed some more of his own ink and later found a small cartoon sheep staring up at him from under his bathroom sink. That had been an interesting night for the Fains.

Said sheep was eager to meet two others who'd been formed off of two other members of the Music Department. Johnny Brokeheart, the organist that had once been imprisoned inside his beloved instrument, and Julian Whitaker, the cellist that had sometimes visited the Prophet's domain for protection as a Lost One with a prominent limp.

The Woolly Triplets were happy to be together for a few hours before Jack returned home with his third of the trio. The little guy was reluctant to leave Jack's side, and both he and Theo had grown attached to him anyway.

It'd feel strange to part ways so suddenly.

Henry had marveled at the interesting cast of characters that were still coming together.

There were now three wolves, three angel, a demoness, a living camera, two imps, a leprechaun, two pirates, a living pirate chess, and three spiders.

He could only imagine what else might pop up the next time he came around to check on everyone.

It was truly a full house.

One full of silly shenanigans and exasperated parents that didn't want to admit their kids were adorable but little hellions. Such an odd thought, being a parent to a cartoon character that had at one point been their means to earn money… Odder still how easily they connected with them.

Perhaps because they'd come from them? Like an actual offspring?

That seemed to be the case with Sammy at least. If anyone had reasons to resent a certain grinning devil, it had to be the false prophet who'd grown disillusioned.

He loved the little Wanderer though.

Unsettling eyes and grin be damned, he was a proud da and did what he could to raise him.

Same with Norman who actually had proper experience as a father, and then even Susie who'd been a little miffed that she didn't have a little Alice to tend to, but still took on the responsibility of teaching Miss Twisted to not be too much of a nuisance (she loved her really, like mother like daughter they ended up becoming in less than an hour).

Even those who Henry hadn't pegged as the sort to want to be parents were doing grand with their own toons.

Grant was an exemplary father despite his neurotic personality, and even Bertrum and Lacie seemed fond of acting as an uncle and aunt to the toons. Teaching them things and letting them get away with things their parents wouldn't.

It was… honestly very nice.

Nothing the toons didn't deserve after such a rough start.

[unluckybreadling]

“Try it. Come on, I swear it won’t poison you.”

Sorry if this isn’t what you wanted but, this kinda fun to write so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ also note for prompts and stuff if you don’t tell me who, my mind will just default to Ma.koto, so just keep that in mind for future ref.

Now Makoto Naegi was not opposed to trying new things, Of course, there were his favorites foods, his mom’s experimental homecooked meals, he even tried Tuna fish eyeballs with Komaru. Entering Hopes peak only expanded his horizons, varying from mystery flavored doughnuts to exquisite flavors from other continents that he could only dream of trying. Has all that food expanded his waistline? Sure, but it wasn’t a massive amount of weight, but his metabolism was rather fast, plus Sakura, Aoi, and Nekomaru made sure he exercised regularly. Besides, there was one person who seemed to like his small gain.

Byakuya Togami.

If you ever told Makoto that one day, he would ever catch the interest of the Heir to the Togami Co. He would have laughed in your face, but now here he was sitting in the largest penthouse he’s ever seen overlooking Tokyo. Sitting in a chair that probably cost more than his entire life, he shifted in it nervously trying not to leave any more prints than he already had, though it was rather hard to make himself seem smaller due to his thighs being thicker now.

“What on earth are you doing?” Byakuya called from the kitchen, “Its a chair, it’s not going to hurt you, just get comfortable.”

Makoto took a deep breath trying to relax, it was a comfortable chair but still. So to take his mind off of that he spoke up, “Hey ‘Kuya… why did you call me over?”

He heard the blond scoff, “I thought it was obvious, to serve you dinner.”

The brunette blinked, he should have honestly known that but he didn’t, “Oh, oh thank you ‘Kuya that’s really sweet of you!” his stomach grumbled lowly in agreement,

“Speaking of dinner.” The heir walked over the luckster, wearing a confident look on his face the dish in hand, “Here it is,”

The dish was placed directly placed in front of the boy, it was… it was..? Makoto looked at the food (if you could call it that) more closely. What he assumed to be rice was a bit to brown and somewhat burnt but, it wasn’t supposed to be fried rice he assumed as there was wasn’t any other ingredients in it. Next to it though looked worst as the tar colored looking sauce on the side of it and what appeared to be nearly black vegetables and what appeared to be cut up pieces of what might be chicken. Plus it smelt, awful “Um… Byakuya… what is that?”

“What do you mean ‘what is it’ last time I checked I was the one with the glasses.”

“Well you are but, did you not wear them while cooking this?”

“You dummy, I need these to see.”

“Just what is this supposed to be?”

Byakuya’s eyes widen in both confusion, embarrassment creeping up but he quickly pushed that down, did this he really not realize what it was? It was his favorite meal, how did this fool not realize that? He truly must be dating an idiot.  

“Wha-What it’s curry, you dumbass.”

Makoto’s eyes widen in surprise, that was curry? He looked over the food again more closely this time, a light switch went off in his brain and his mouth contoured into an ‘O’ shape as he looked back up at the heir smiling sheepishly. “O-Oh.. it is curry, ah-”

“Well,” The blonde picked up the spoon scooping up the tar looking sauce with a burnt piece of chicken, waving it in the brunette’s face  “Try it. Come on, I swear it won’t poison you.”

“It probably will,” Makoto hissed pushing the arm away, “Look can’t we just order take out?”

“But, I made this for you!” Byakuya growled, “Look see it tastes fine!”

Before Makoto could try and stop him the heir shoved the spoon in his mouth, His face immediately scrunched up into that of disgust and promptly spat out the food on to the plate, staring at it in disbelief. Pitying the other, Makoto patted his forearm, “It’s ok Byakuya, I’m not upset it makes me really happy that you even tried!”

Byakuya gazed shifted from the dish to Makoto who gave him one of his signature gentle smiles, causing the heir to blush only slightly. “Hmph well, I suppose I guess I’ll leave the cooking to the chef.” He took his phone out of his pocket, “Now what should we get for dinner that isn’t burnt curry?”

[cupcakefoggy]

😉RULES: It’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought  into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want  (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works.

I was tagged by @vtforpedro​ (thank you!!!)

I’ve definitely had a lot of negative self-talk re: my own stuff this year (do not get into writing as a hobby if you self-compare...it’s just a recipe for problems lol) so. Took me a while to talk myself into actually doing this but here we go...

1. There’s A Place For Us 

This is my most recent completed multi-chapter Gradence fic. I’ll own here and now that it leans into a lot of tropes I probably make too much use of in my Gradence fics especially (Percy has recently been dumped or mistreated in some way, Credence is a sassbucket, weddings and/or proposals happen, they’re on vacation, etc.) But it was also one where I unapologetically drew from my own life, and used the fic to “exorcise” something that was kind of eating at me. My ex broke up with me in a very similar manner, for very similar reasons, as Newt dumps Percy in this fic, and it was lovely to see the outpouring of indignation on Percy’s behalf in the comment section. Felt like the people who read this were saying to me “you have every right to be upset,” and I can’t lie, it felt pretty damn good.

2. Under your spell again

Another Gradence, this time a oneshot, and my second-ever hypnokink piece. I love consensual hypnosis kink but for what I feel should be obvious reasons it took me a while to get brave enough to write it. I wrote an experimental one from Credence (the sub’s) POV for Kinktober, but this time I was a lot bolder with it and really drew out and leaned into the more Dom/sub elements of it, as well as included an induction scene (my actual weakness when it comes to hypnokink fic!!). It marked a turning point for me because it was the point where I realized that not only can I write heavy kink, but I can do it with *my* things that *I* like instead of just using the excuse of “oh it was a present fic” and that is...actually okay! Who knew? ;P

3. The Naked Truth

My first ever Riddlebird fic, and a present for someone who has now become a very good Fic Friend ^_^ I got a real kick out of coming up with crop top-related puns and thinking of all the ways that the Rogue Gallery would make fun of Oswald for dressing scandalously at a villain meeting, and even more of a kick out of imagining Colin Farrell the Pudgy Penguin in a crop top in the first place. ;) I’ve written other Riddlebird fics (and, unless I’m mistaken, apparently invented the Riddleflashpenguin tag) since then, but this one will always have a special place in my heart.

4. What if your hand was my hand

My first ABO, pairing The Lobster’s David with Perks of Being A Wallflower’s Patrick. I had a huge, *huge* issue with Alpha/Omega fic up to the point where I read a couple written by people I trusted...and while I still have yet to write the kind of messy ABO smut that those writers can pull off so well, I at least managed to write this little role-reversal one for Kinktober. Kinktober honestly was such a blast and I had so much fun with some of the prompts...but this was another one where I really Went For It and it felt really rewarding. (Also it gave me a real taste for David/Patrick, so that was a side bonus lol.)

5. Ghostly Presents

This Gradence fic started out as a fun little excuse to play with two tropes I love: “and they all went to Disneyland!” and “stoic-but-soft-hearted character cannot pull off a romantic gesture to save his life.” It was also my first crack at writing first person POV in a fic and gave me a new appreciation for my character’s emotions and motivations. But thanks to the encouragement of two lovely friends (who will be tagged in this post 😉) it has since become a series, which is my actual Baby and has given me the room to write things I never thought I could.

I do have a hard time with Comment Envy (don’t lie, we’ve all been there lol) and sometimes I end up thinking “ugh, no one’s reading this! *sob*” But looking over past fics to make this post was a blast, and I sincerely have to thank vtforpedro for tagging me because looking at my work over this year I was just like “wow...I actually wrote a lot and Did My Best and I should be proud of that, dammit.” ^_^

I’m tagging @black-eyed-creature and @indigo-apex because they’re awesome, and if you follow me and see this and want to do it, feel free! <3

[kilerya]

Prompt: the goddesses pretend to be each other for a day, complete with possibly bad costumes.

happy birthday in advance but also kind of a year late !

that’s actually something i thought about before, with more tooth rotting fluff not quite pretending to be each other completely but dressing up as each other after hearing about the human concept of ‘walking a mile in someone else’s shoes to know what they’re going through’ and getting distracted so have some divine dorks playing dress up :

It started, like most interesting things, on a lazy evening spent drinking Ona’s latest wine while they talked about strange interesting things humans did.

“But it would be very uncomfortable in someone else’s shoes” Ona said, confused “What if they don’t fit? then they can’t wear them at all”

“No no no, see it’s one of them meta… thingies the ones that don’t mean what they say” Should I be losing words already? Magryn wondered, she was only on her second cup of the sweet wine -or was it third?- she reached for the pitcher, I’ll find them again later, it was really good wine.

‘”Fours?” Ona guessed after a minute of silence.

“Them things ! Yes! See, they don’t really wear some other human’s shoes, well they do sometimes but it’s a sharing thing not a knowing thing you know?” Ona nodded, sure that it would make sense when Magryn got to the point and she’d get there, eventually. “Right so what it means is if you do something like someone does it then you know what it feels like for them and you can be nicer, like…like if someone has really bad shoes it’s a pain to walk a mile in them, yes? but the guy with really good shoes he doesn’t know that until he tries the other shoes”

“I see, it makes sense for them I suppose, but I don’t really like this whole shoe business, maybe we could try with something else?” The alcohol was starting to get to her too, but not nearly as badly as it did Magryn who was staring off into space after her explanation and blinked at her question.

“Try what”

“Walk a mile in each other’s I don’t know, powers? Oh no that wouldn’t work” Definitely getting tipsy, Ona thought, that made no sense at all.

“Heh we can’t play the part but we can look it, gimme flowers” Ona complied and watched, amused, as Magryn turned the small bouquet into a crooked crown and placed it on her head with a playful smile “I am nature!” She proclaimed before dissolving into infectious giggles.

“You’re quite pretty in a crown” Ona said once they calmed down. It was a terrible crown she thought as she reached over to fix a flower that was about to fall off, but it was still pretty.

“Psh you’re quite pretty, an I bet you’d be reaaally pretty in something that goes woosh”

“Woosh?” Plenty of things went woosh that didn’t really narrow it down.

“You know” Magryn stood up, swaying and started to twirl as an explanation, her dress fluttering behind her “Woosh, oops” Inevitably, she lost her footing and fell face first in the grass. Ona couldn’t have stopped her laughter if she’d tried. “ ‘M okay !”

“Enough wine I think Lady lightweight” It was an old joke but one that never failed to make Magryn pout.

“It’s not me it’s m’bones” Was the grumbled reply from the ground “But I’m right, very very pretty in a wooshy thing, and shiny things, so pretty”

“So I’ll be you and you’ll be me and we see who does it better?” It could be fun, Ona thought, and it had been so long since she saw her lovely bird in green.

“You bet, but tomorrow, I need to be not drunk” Giving up on getting upright again, Magryn curled up on the soft grass and promptly went to sleep.

Morning came and brought Ona out of her meditative sleep. She opened her eyes to see a grinning young woman sitting crosslegged in front of her.

“Good morning Nessa, little early for a visit isn’t it?” Noticing the large bag behind the girl she added “Even with presents.”

“Morning! I’m here to help of course, boss mentioned your little contest when she got home, she left you a note by the way.” Nessa pointed to a piece of paper pinned to a tree by a long white feather and waited until Ona finished reading it before continuing. “Figured I’d bring you some supplies and save you some time, don’t think she really has much of a headstart though she was still arguing with plants when I left…”

Ona carefully tucked the feather behind her ear and walked back to where Nessa was excitedly unpacking her bag pulling out fabrics, thread and needles, and an impressive amount of shiny trinkets she must have nicked from Magryn’s stash on her way out. They hadn’t set any rules to their little ‘contest’, no rewards either.The note Magryn had left only said she’d be back at sun down and Ona had every intentions to be ready by then. A little help won’t hurt, Ona thought, and it’ll be nice to spend the day with Nessa.

They spent the morning working on the dress on a wooden mannequin Ona had grown. Nessa, bless her heart, got distracted very easily but when she wasn’t trying to braid ribbons into the fur of whatever animal wandered too close, she proved herself very helpful in handling the different fabrics.

It took them a few tries to get it right, the soft silky cloth tickled Ona’s skin too much to be comfortable at first. In the end she grew a thin layer of bark to put under it, needle thin thorns curling out to secure the fabric across it. The makeshift bark corset moved with her as she breathed, solid and alive against her skin. Ona did an experimental spin, Magryn had a point, the little woosh was very satisfying. And yet…

“This doesn’t feel quite right” Ona said. Nessa looked up from her work sewing a tiny jacket for a squirrel to watch her spin once more. “It should be more… you know”

“If you mean more like lady Magryn does it I think the word you’re looking for is “dramatic”, supposed to twirl like you mean it and have fun, bit of practice and it’ll be perfect I bet. But first,” She held up a ball of silvery thread “think those thorns can get tiny enough for embroidery?”

“I’m sure we can figure something out” The dress went back on the mannequin and they went back to work, beautiful patterns quickly coming together under their combined efforts.

“This is the coolest thing ever” Nessa said as they put the finishing touches in place “I want to learn ! Can I learn?” Her excitement made Ona smile.

“I’ll help you practice when we’re done here, I still need you a little longer if you don’t mind” She said, gesturing at her hair “I’ve never been much good at taming my own I’m afraid.”

“Deal!”

Magryn stared at her reflection critically, something wasn’t right. Changes had to be made, of course, she couldn’t stand to have the vines and leaves making up the top of her dress at her back for a start, not even with a protective layer of fabric between her skin and the slightly scratchy plants. It had taken hours to convince the stupid things to let themselves be stitched in place on the halter top she settled on, they had more freedom where they cascaded down the skirt, only getting caught on the fabric when they wanted to but that didn’t seem to appease them much. Plants were temperamental, who would have thought.

The ivy, that was the trouble. It looked unnatural, wrapped as it was around her arms and legs rather than gracefully clinging to her skin as it would have done for Ona. Out of all the plants Magryn had to sweet talk into sitting pretty and lush, the ivy was the only one too stubborn to cooperate and it threw off the whole outfit.

“I think it looks fine” Thomas’ voice brought Magryn out of her thoughts, he stood behind her in front of the mirror, close enough to touch but knowing better than to do so before being allowed. She stared at him through the mirror. He gave her a sheepish smile, she raised an eyebrow and stared some more. “Ah…maybe the ivy isn’t working out?”

“That” She sighed, leaning back to rest against Thomas “is an understatement.” Taking the implicit permission, he curled up against her back to drop his head on her shoulder and started poking at the misbehaving plant on her arm.

“Everything else is perfect,it’s just this damn- ow” The affronted look on his face as he stared as his now bleeding finger sent Magryn into a fit of giggles.

“Well there’s your lesson for the day, if you’re going to poke a sentient plant better not insult it too” Stepping away from the mirror, she perched on her desk and started unwinding the ivy on her arm. That thing was just too rude to be worn. Thomas dutifully followed her and knelt beside her, reaching for the ivy around her legs. “Not afraid to get viciously attacked again?” She teased.

“I can take a few paper cuts, would it be leaf cuts? plants attacks” Despite his words he took his time carefully loosening the ivy and setting it aside. “I bet a distraction would help” Thomas added once the offending plant had been discarded. He’d barely moved from his spot on the floor, only shifting closer to rest his head against her knee, his hand tracing random patterns on her skin.

“Is that so?” Magryn asked, amused.

“Yeah take a little break, look at the problem with fresh eyes…’”Subtle as a brick,she thought as she reached down to pet his hair, but a few minutes won’t hurt. He leaned into her hand with an impish grin. Magryn grinned back but kept her touch soft, slowly going down his neck until she had both hands on his shoulders. She leaned forwards, stopping only a few inches away from his face before she spoke again.

“Such a shame there’s still so much work to be done.” Thomas’ eyes widened in realisation just as Magryn gave him a firm push. He didn’t resist, falling backward on the carpeted floor. Magryn stepped over him to get back to the mirror and the flowers waiting to be braided into her hair. She worked in silence for a few minutes, only glancing at Thomas once to see him still on the floor, pouting or deep in thoughts. It was hard to tell from that angle. Eventually, he spoke up.

“What about silver instead? That always works for you.” Magryn considered it, silver would be easier to handle than grumpy vines and she always had a weakness for shiny things…

“Not a bad idea, go see if Nessa left us anything to work with…oh and bring back some bronze while you’re at it!” She called after him as he ran off to fulfill her request. He came back a few minutes later with an armful of precious metals he put down next to her “Better haul than I expected” She praised, not missing the pleased little smile her words caused as she eagerly reached for the silver. So much to play with and shape into something beautiful… Magryn felt one of her unfinished braids come loose. Right, hair, that needs to be dealt with. She glanced up at Thomas again and waved at her hair “Need your hands for a bit longer” Thomas obliged,stepping behind her and making short work of the braid. Before he could start working on another one, Magryn turned to face him “You did good today.” and she leaned in to reward him with a kiss, soft and sweet, before handing him the leftovers flowers for her hair. “And now back to it.” Thomas  took the flowers with a smile.

“As my Lady wishes.”

Ona watched proudly as Nessa grew another flower on the bracelet she was making. She’d come a long way in the past few hours, from small blades of grass to colorful little flowers. Watching her work was a welcome distraction for Ona as she waited for Magryn’s arrival, she’d started to weave her own bracelets to stop herself from picking at her new clothes. The pile of interwoven flowers next to her was big enough for Nessa’s new squirrel friend to nap in.

“And done! This one doesn’t look too bad don’t you think?” Nessa asked, putting her latest attempt on the table between them. Before Ona had time to answer, the little squirrel they both thought asleep darted from his flower nest to snatch the bracelet. “What the…That’s not for you you nut monster give it back!” He didn’t. The ensuing chase had Nessa spouting expletives all over the clearing. In that chaos, no one noticed Magryn come through the door to her domain followed closely by Thomas. She studied the scene for a minute with a fond smile before making herself known.

“My, my, someone’s energetic today.What did that squirrel do to you?” Magryn smirked as Nessa flailed and squeaked out another swear.A chuckle brought Magryn’s attention away from the the girl and all words left her mind as she got her first good look at Ona. It was the silver that drew her gaze first. The dress in itself was simple enough with a simple layer of iridescent black silk stretched over a corset and falling into a skirt, but the embroidery was a work of art. Silvery wings spread along the top of the corset extended beyond the cloth to contrast beautifully with Ona’s dark skin as they stretched up to her neck, feathers framing the amber pendant resting there. A pattern of similar feathers ran along the skirt and could also be found in Ona’s flower crown, now composed of small black and white hellebore blossoms to match the rest of her outfit. Her fiery red hair was pulled back in a bun held together by more black flowers and behind her ear, Magryn noticed with the beginning of a blush, was the long white feather that had been left behind earlier. And this is when I compliment her, any time now… Magryn blinked taking it all in once again, the silver, the flowers and the skirt that she knew would flare prettily if Ona were to spin just so. And her words fled the coop again.

Speechless wonderment, Ona thought, was a good look on Magryn and it was very flattering to be the cause of it. More flattering even was seeing color bleed back into Magryn’s eyes, from silver to brown, as she cut her sight away from everywhere but this place and this moment. In the silence stretching between them, Ona took in what her lovely bird was wearing and smiled. Every flower on Magryn, from the ones braided into her hair to the ones artfully stitched into her dress, grew a little brighter and fuller at the approval. It must have tickled because Magryn squirmed. A badly concealed chuckle brought Ona’s attention on Thomas, standing a few feet behind Magryn, amusement slowly overtaking the reverent look he always had for his mistress. There was a hint of mischief in his grin as he stepped up next to her and bowed with a flourish.

“Lady Ona you look stunning” He said, startling Magryn out of her daze.

“That’s my line” Magryn hissed, weakly elbowing him in the side, finding her words again now that the silence had been broken. “You do, look stunning, I… yes, beautiful” Skies above how long was I staring for.

“Thank you both” Ona said warmly before turning her attention behind them “Nessa was quite helpful” Magryn followed her gaze to a bush at the border of the clearing and huffed a laugh. It could have been a decent hiding place had Nessa bothered to cover her bright colorful hair.

“Well come here then” Magryn called out, “no reason to hide.” An unmistakable squeak came from the bush before Nessa shuffled towards them, looking at the ground until she stopped a few feet away.

“Um, hi boss, the hair looks great?” The sheepish tone and big puppy eyes could have melted a heart of stone and saved Nessa a lot of trouble for her harmless act of thievery. As there was no hearts of stone present at the time, it only served to make Magryn work hard to resist the urge to ruffle her hair and praise her for managing to sneak out with so many things.

“Thanks, I had some help as well” Was what she said instead with a nod and smile towards Thomas. A chirping noise brought her attention back towards Nessa and the very fancy squirrel now sitting on her shoulder. “you never did answer me, what did the squirrel do?”

“He-stole-my-bracelet” On cue the little beast held up a small flower bracelet with a proud chirp.

“I see, you have much in common” Nessa stared at the ground again, still expecting trouble. Magryn stepped up to her and gently lifted the girl’s chin to look her in the eyes “Oh don’t make that face little thief you’re not in trouble” Nessa perked up before Magryn pointed to the mess of leftover fabric and silver and added “If all of this is back in it’s rightful place when I look”

“I’m sure you’ll have time for a snack before you go” Ona said, stepping up next to Magryn and wrapping an arm around her back. Magryn simply hummed in agreement so Ona turned to Thomas and added “There’s some of that cider you like too, if you want any.”

“My Lady is too kind” He bowed again and sauntered away only to stop a little ways away when he noticed Nessa wasn’t following. “Coming kid?” She didn’t answer him directly, squaring her shoulders and deflating almost as quickly while she talked to Magryn instead.

“Could I… bring my new friend home with me?” Said new friend chirped emphatically to indicate that, no matter what the answer was, he’d probably sneakily tag along anyway. What a pair they would make.

“Plan on keeping him out of trouble?” Magryn chuckled at how quickly Nessa agreed and waved her off before she could launch into an heartfelt spiel on the subject ‘Alright, alright, off you go then, those apples won’t eat themselves.’

Nessa happily skipped away with her new friend, talking up a storm as soon as she caught up with Thomas. Magryn watched them go with a fond smile and relaxed into Ona’s embrace, head on her shoulder. She made such a pretty picture like this… Thieving magpies and stolen hearts, Ona thought, how does that rhyme goes again? She leaned down to kiss the top of Magryn’s head, stolen heart humming happily, or perhaps that had been her, it would certainly explain why Magryn was now looking at her with an amused smile that may very well have been a smirk.

“Hello” Ona mumbled for something to say. Magryn turned to face her and, putting both hands on her Ona’s shoulders for support, pounced. Instinctively, Ona moved to grip Magryn’s hips to lift her properly and was rewarded by a luscious kiss.

“Hi” Magryn purred against her lips before withdrawing. She was definitely smirking as she was put down, running her hands along the silvery patterns she’d been dying to touch earlier? “This is pretty” She commented idly. Ona shivered at the soft touch of those wandering hands that found as much skin as silver to trace. A glint brought her attention to Magryn’s wrist and the metal vines wrapped around her forearm. Curiosity made Ona take Magryn’s hand in hers and raise it to get a better look, if Magryn minded being interrupted in her exploration she didn’t say. Ona kissed her palm, just because she could, and examined the swirling silver vines and bronze leaves of the armband.

“This is pretty nice too, is it new? I don’t remember seeing it before” It had to be, Magryn was always so prompt to show off any nature themes jewelry she found, such an intricate piece would have had her bursting with pride the moment she found it. Unless of course, she made it specifically for today, Ona thought.

“Ah yes, it was supposed to be ivy but…well let’s just say I might need you to have a talk with it to smooth things out” Magryn wasn’t blushing, the slight flush on her cheeks was surely a trick of the sunset and not any proof of embarrassment, that was her story and she was sticking to it. Still, it made Ona giggle and hug her closer so Magryn wasn’t going to bring up said story.

“Don’t worry I’ll save you from the mean old ivy” Ona teased, laughing again at Magryn’s little huff, she wasn’t quite sure if it was indignation or laughter but it was adorable. Reluctantly, Ona stepped back and resisted the urge to kiss away the pout on Magryn’s face “But first I believe you said something last night about pretty things that go woosh, so watch this” Another huff, this time definitely amused, followed Ona as she stepped a little further away and spun.

“Oh Magryn found herself speechless again, something she really didn’t want to see becoming a habit. It was good spin, there was flourish and fluttering fabric, there was a satisfying woosh sound… which came not so much from the spin itself than from the wings now sprouting from Ona’s back. Vines grew and intertwined to form an anatomically correct pair of wings with palm leaves acting as feathers. They were perhaps a little stiff but looked as if they could be functional. Magryn felt a grin spread across her face, Ona had helped her groom her own often enough that she wouldn’t be surprised if those wings really could take flight. She floated closer excitedly, taking in all the little flowers that had grown over Ona’s dress at the surge of power that made the wings. Flowers as always had a mind of their own and, rather than sticking to the dark color scheme, they’d come in bursts of bright reds, pinks and purples nestled in the silver embroidery. Such a stunning picture she made… The wings twitched, bringing Magryn’s attention back to them. “Can I touch them?”

“Sure” Ona replied, earning herself the quickest of kisses as Magryn moved behind her. She was still floating Ona noticed, silly bird. Ona half listened as Magryn chattered away about air flow and flapping mechanisms, preferring to focus her senses through the vines to feel the soft, almost reverent touches on her newly made wings. It wasn’t for lack of interest, Ona could listen to Magryn’s excited ramblings about anything for hours but talk of aerodynamics flew right over her head. So she relaxed under Magryn’s hands, letting them coax the wings to lift, lower, fold, extend. All familiar yet new sensations, like stretching muscles she never knew she had and the feel of fingers slowly carding through her ‘feathers’ well… She could see why Magryn enjoyed it so much. It was so distracting she didn’t notice Magryn asked her a question until the touches stopped. “Hm? Sorry what ?”

“Someone’s been enjoying herself” Magryn teased, pointing to the circle of flowers they were now sitting in.

“Oh” Wait sitting? when did I…. Ona thought, blushing “It ah felt very nice” Thankfully, she was saved from having to elaborate as Magryn started to stroke the wings again, laughing softly.

“I said these should be good for gliding, if you’re up for it” She paused to make sure Ona was listening “I’ll still need to get us up there of course but… you can carry us both through the sky tonight, lovely bird”

“Oh” Apparently speechlessness was catching.

“Or we can stay down here doing this if you’d like.” Magryn continued after a minute of silence.

“No!” It came so quickly Ona almost startled herself. There was very little ,she knew, that Magryn liked more than flying. It wasn’t unusual for her to fly them both up to some mountain cave, over a pretty piece of scenery or even just for fun, spinning and dancing through the air wherever they were at the time. “It would be nice flying, I mean but I don’t know… are you sure I should? I don’t know if I can…” The words trailed off into a sigh.

“It’s a lot easier than you think, and I’ll be there to guide you.” Magryn said, she hugged Ona from behind and kissed her cheek. “The only question is: do you want to?”

“Yes”

“Ok then” There was a smile in her voice as she tightened her grip around Ona and, letting out her own wings, lifted them both to their feet with a loud woosh and a snicker at Ona’s surprised squeak. Magryn stepped around Ona to face her and hugged her close once more “Ready?” She could see Ona start to doubt again, not unlike the first time Magryn took her up in the air hundreds of years ago but before she could comment Ona took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye.

“Ready” She said and with a mighty beat of Magryn’s wings, up they went higher and higher into the bright sunset sky.

-End

The rhyme Ona was referring to:

‘you stole my heart thieving magpie’“how could i not it shines so brightbut please take my heart in returnsee how for you its passions burn”

It’s an exert from a (very inaccurate) myth about how their relationship started