#master-grump-fluffy

[lostplotbunniesbg3]

This one would lend itself well to either SFW or (more likely) NSFW, but the idea of Haarlep being sweet to Raph but obscuring it in teasing is delicious to me. Just “Ah, poor master, always a step behind” while genuinely pampering and taking care of him. It gives Raph plausible deniability to grump over it too without having to admit his feelings.

A Devilishly Sweet Bunny Appears! Raphael/Haarlep

There's so much to play with in the Raphael/Haarlep dynamic (or for a plot bunny, would that be hare-lep?...stop booing us, you know we're right) and this angle is a delicious one to examine. So you could take it in a purely fluffy SFW direction, or let the bunny run more rampant with an NSFW piece.

These two do often suit that antagonistic relationship vibe that's more of a veneer for something softer underneath, and it looks like this could fit a shorter piece or a longer fic examining their dynamics over a longer period of time.

Do either of them ever openly admit how they feel? Does it become more of a game to try and push each other into revealing they genuinely care? Does Raphael begin to tease back or leave hints/opportunities for Haarlep to spoil him more? We'll pass this one on to all of you, before the bunny fills a field with more of them! Let us know where this one takes you, it could be a very deep warren down there - after all, who are we to say what love and affection looks like to fiends in the hells?

(How is this gif 5 hours long?)

[foreverrandomwritings]

M! Congratulations again!!

It’s a celly without some romantic Fanboy, is it? [SHELTER ]  for one muse to lean into the other’s side or hug them to seek comfort from a crowd or individual while in public(jealousy) and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay (soft and sweet).

Opposites Attract

Summary: Pushing through your anxiety you decide to finally join your husband Mickey at a squad cookout. Will your anxiety cause you to back out? Will your husbands comfort soothe your worries?

Pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x afab!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, depression and tooth rooting fluff.

Word count: 1666

Masterlist M's Hundred Celly Masterlist

You and Mickey had been married for 10 years now. But together for 15 in total, high school sweethearts as they call it. No one understood how your relationship worked. Where he was extroverted you were introverted. Where he was a big ball of sunshine you were a black void of grump. Him an optimist and you a pessimist. You would simply tell them that opposites attract. 

Though you weren’t truly that opposite of each other. You both craved physical touch and words of affirmation. You were both huge fans of common things. You had actually met him while doing a play together in high school. Both of you being stage hands as stage fright was something you had in common. You bonded quickly and had been inseparable ever since. 

You went to college while he went to the academy. You got a masters degree in creative writing and a bachelor’s in criminology. That led you to where you were currently job wise as a mystery thriller fiction author. You were the proud author of a whole ongoing series. It was also easy for you to write and move along with him as he got stationed at different locations. 

Fanboy had supported you through college and through your journey of writing the best that he could. You in turn supported him through the academy and through all the different deployments he went through. You had however found yourself staying in your own company most of the time. Having struggled with anxiety and depression your whole life meeting new people was something you tried not to do often. 

Mickey respected that decision and never pressured you to go out of your comfort zone. He always made sure to spend plenty of time with you. You would often have movie nights cuddled up together on your couch under a big fluffy blanket. You’d binge series while eating your weight in junk food. Puzzles, reading books, legos, board games and relaxing in blanket forts while whispering sweet words to each other were many other things you did together. 

While he never pressured you to meet any of his coworkers you knew deep down he wanted you to be a part of that life. You had met Payback, his wife and kids already. You’d do weekly dinners with the family. That made your husband ecstatic but you knew he craved more. 

So when he mentioned a cookout that Maverick was planning you figured that would be your chance to meet everyone. Much to his surprise you said you’d go with him. He reassured you many times before the event that you didn’t have to go if you didn’t want to. He made sure you knew that he was perfectly fine staying inside binging Criminal Minds with you until the wee hours of the morning. But you insisted that you were finally ready to meet everyone.

Your anxiety leading up to the day wasn’t as terrible as you’d expected it to be. But the day of all the anxiety seemed to hit you like a hurricane. Wave after wave after wave coursed through you as the hours ticked by. You had changed your outfit about a million times before Mickey finally stopped you and chose an outfit for you. The outfit was simple and similar to his outfit; jeans, a graphic t (matching his) and an old worn pair of vans. 

You had made two batches of brownies and two pitchers of sweet tea for the cookout. Though you were assured by your ever caring husband that it wasn't necessary at all. You got gathered into his car making sure you had everything you needed. 

“Hold on cariña.” Mickey called out as you reached your door. You looked at him expectantly and were pleasantly surprised when he brought you into his arms. He wrapped them around you and squeezed you against him. He knew that pressure could sometimes help relieve some of your anxiety. 

“You’re gonna do great. You are strong and brave, kind and thoughtful. You are in control of what happens. If you want to leave we will leave just give me the word.” He told you before giving your head a kiss. You squeezed him back as you took a deep breath, your nose filling with his scent, tajin from the candy he had eaten earlier and aftershave. 

“I’ll make sure to let you know if I want to leave Mick.” You told him in reply. That seemed to ease some of the worry he had because he let go and gave you another peck on your forehead. Opening your door for you he ushered you into the car. Then he was rounding the hood and getting into the driver's seat. He held your hand the whole way there, letting you get lost in thoughts as you stared out the window. 

Pulling up to the house you let out a shaky breath squeezing his hand. You both climbed out of the car. You grabbed the container with the brownies in it and Mickey grabbed the jugs of sweet tea. He gave you one last kiss on the head before you were both walking up the driveway to the backyard. You heard the group way before you saw them. There was splashing in the pool from the kids and chatter from the adults.

“We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.” Mickey reassured you once again. You would never get sick of the way he cared for you. He was the steady land around your unsteady volcano. You gave him a smile you hoped was convincing but by the look he gave you, you figured it wasn’t. 

“I’m ready to meet everyone, Legro.” You replied, before you were pushing the gate open and entering the backyard. You heard a shout of your name and looked to see Payback's wife heading towards you. 

“Are those your brownies I see in there?” She asked you as she peered into the container in your hands. 

“Don’t worry Denise, I got you a batch to take home in the car.” You whispered to her, she gave you a mischievous look in return. 

“I knew I liked you for a reason.” She said simply before greeting your husband. They talked for a brief moment before she was called away by Tina, their youngest and only daughter. 

“Let’s go meet everyone.” Mickey said to you as he nodded in the direction of the crowd. Your feet answered for you as they moved across the lawn. Mickey was close behind you, catching up in one quick step. You were determined to get the awkward first greeting out of the way quickly even as your hands shook. 

“This is my wife.” Mickey said as he introduced you to the group. All eyes on you as you stared at the container in your hands. 

“Let me take that from you.” Mav said quickly moving towards you to grab the brownies out of your hands. Then Rooster was grabbing the jugs of tea from Mickey. With nothing to look at but your bare hands you trailed your eyes up to the group. 

“Hi.” You said barely above a whisper as you stepped closer to your husband. You leaned into his side as he brought an arm around your shoulder. The awkward side hug was enough to calm your nerves. They all went around the table quickly introducing themselves and greeting you. 

The night was running smoothly after that. You stuck by Mickey's side talking to people occasionally. At one point Phoenix asked you what you did for work and your shell loosened as you talked about the new book you were writing for your series. Bob perked up at that and had said he had actually read your whole series almost 5 times over. But then he got confused because he hadn’t realized you were the author. You explained that you used your middle name and maiden name as a pseudonym. 

Mickey had gone to get a drink and got caught up in a conversation with Hangman when you suddenly needed to go to the bathroom. You looked around but didn’t see Denise or Payback anywhere figuring they were off with one or all of the kids somewhere. Not wanting to interrupt your husband, you decided to go and find the bathroom yourself. After knocking on and opening almost every door you finally found the bathroom. 

You made quick work of going before washing your hands and drying them off. As you opened the door you ran straight into someone. You let out a grunt as you stumbled back a step. Anxiety suddenly running through your body at the thought of having run into someone. But the grip on your arms soothed you back down before you could erupt. You recognized the hands instantly. Looking up, your eyes connected to a set of worried chestnut brown ones. 

“I couldn’t find you outside. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He said as he scanned over you, hands still on your arms. 

“I’m alright Mick, I just had to go to the bathroom real quick. Didn’t want to disturb anyone so I just kinda wandered around for a moment.” You told him as you reached up to wrap a hand around his wrist squeezing lightly. 

“Let’s get back out there then cariña. They just announced dessert and I don’t want everyone to eat your brownies before I get some.” You laughed at him as he gave you a goofy smile. Then you were walking hand in hand back to the gathering. Mickey made sure to grab a plate full of brownies glaring at Rooster when he protested the unfairness of it. He gave you a sweet kiss as he sat back beside you and handed you a glass of sweet tea. You decided then that maybe his found family wasn’t so bad and you might just want to spend more time with them in the future.

Translations:(Google so don't come for me if they are wrong.)

Cariña- Honey

Legro- Light

A/N: Thank you for this request T. I love writing for my husband. That gif of him makes my head swim.

Tags(open): @wkndwlff & @sylviebell

[fan-tav-stic]

Name: Silas

Pronouns: He/him

Race: Zariel Tiefling

Class: Oath of Ancients Paladin

Alignment: Neutral Good

Love Interest: Astarion

Ship Name: Blood(less)Orange (Blood- Astarion is a vampire, Orange- He's ...orange)

Family: Parents: ???

Siblings: None

His parents died when he was 10 of a sickness that ravaged their whole city. He doesn't remember them very well.

Personality: Big ol grump. A little cynical but in a way that makes him want to be better. Tries to be a fluffy feelings guy but struggles. Very serious about battle strategy and minimizing bloodshed. Can let anger best him and lash out but always immediately feels regretful.

He's a sad broken man who yearns to right the wrongs he was forced to do in his past

Anything else we should know?

Hates fighting. Tries his hardest to talk his way through but is a very skilled and trained soldier when he has to fight.

+Character Playlist +

+BloodlessOrange Playlist(NSFW) +

+Fic Series(NSFW)+

Back story under the keep reading:

TWS: Abuse (physical and emotional), reference to mind control (Command spell), substance abuse (alcohol), sex in a negative context, blood and gore

When he was 10 he lost both of his parents in a sweeping sickness that took out a lot of his city. Cast to the streets he had to learn to survive by scamming and stealing. Luckily he was a cute kid and many townspeople looked after him until he was about 15 when his 'cute kid charm' faded. He was left to fend for himself.

When he was 17 he was caught stealing from a nobleman who wanted his head. He was given a choice, go to prison or join the soldier ranks and learn to behave. He chose to become a soldier and serve under Commander Fylson.

Silas never wanted to take a life, that wasn't who he was. Fylson thought him weak. The first time he spared an enemy on the battlefield Fylson killed the man himself and then made Silas an example of what weakness got you under his command.

Fylson chose every opportunity to make an example of Silas after that. He was constantly beaten and humiliated if he even had one hair out of line, if he even breathed out of sync with the others.

Fylson would often use Command on him to make him do the worst tasks because he knew Silas would be too weak to stomach them on his own

He had killed so many people. He had tortured people for information. Any time he resisted he was harmed and berated until eventually he drew in on himself and forced himself to become numb to it all.

The people he killed became faceless ghosts in his nightmares. He became deaf to the screams. He became an obedient little attack dog for Fylson- A puppet for his master.

During a border skirmish with their rival city, Silas whole squad was wiped and he lay bleeding out on the battlefield. Just as Silas felt himself fading a holy warrior descended upon him.

A young half-elven man crouched over Silas, the sun rays a halo behind his head. He was beautiful. But the reverie ended when Silas saw the insignia on the man’s cloak, the one for the other side. This was no holy warrior; This was his reaper, the man who would finally end him.

He waited for the final blow but it never came.

Instead, his reaper pressed a hand to his wound and healed it closed. His reaper carried him off the battlefield despite being on the opposite side. His reaper snuck him into his room and spent several weeks caring for him instead of getting the information he was tasked with.

His reaper's name was Matias. A man he would come to know better than he knew himself.

Over the month that Matias harboured him, the pair became close. When Silas was well enough to escape, to flee out the window he had been planning on doing, and run to Baldur's Gate or sail across the coast he realised he didn't want to leave.

Yes, it was risky to stay since he was hiding right under Matias' captain's nose, but Matias was worth the risk. He stayed for another month.

Eventually, he was found out, but Matias stood up for him. He was allowed to join their ranks (albeit back at the bottom) as long as he stayed loyal to them.

Matias taught him what it meant to be a paladin, Silas tought him better- more ruthless- fighting techniques. The more he and Matias trained together the closer they became. They were one unit on the battle field, a genuine force to reckon with. Silas with his sword and shield, Matias with his greatsword, they were unstoppable.

They fell in love over the 2 years they spent together. Matias was the first person he ever loved and he had never been so loved in return. He treated him with a tenderness that he desperately craved after 6 years (17 -23) of Fylson's abuse.

Matias showed him it wasn't weak to spare others, to believe people could do good. He took every single word Fylson hit him with and reversed them, softening them into something that settled warmly in Silas' chest. It was dangerously close to hope. Hope that he too could be good after everything he's done.

Everything came crashing down when he faced off against Fylson during what was supposed to be just another skirmish. He fought his old commander and won. He had the opportunity to kill him but he didn't want to. If he killed Fylson he would be just as bad as him and he refused to be like him anymore. He was changed, he was better.

Big mistake.

Fylson took advantage of hesitance and tried to take him down but Matias saved him. Matias died for him. Silas saw red as he strangled Fylson with his own bare hands.

Matias was dying. Silas held him through it. Matias told him how brave he was, that he made the right choice to be merciful. He made Silas promise never to forget himself, that he’s still a good person no matter how much blood is on his hands, and that mercy is still a choice he can and SHOULD make.

His last words were asking Tempus to watch over Silas since he wouldn’t be able to anymore. Protect him in battle. That made Silas take up Matias’ sword, swearing his paladin oath.

He swore to only fight as a last resort, to spare those he could, to never run or back down, to protect his squad with his life, to be brave in the face of death.

He was filled with Tempus’ fire, becoming a paladin. But not just any kind of Paladin. As if sensing Silas’ apprehension to fight - to kill- Tempus granted him the ability to heal others in a greater way than just lay on hands.

It was like he knew Silas would never be a true holy warrior nor would he be on a path of vengeance. He was meant to help others, not slay in his name. He made him an Ancient Paladin.

For the last 2 years before being kidnapped by the mindflayers Silas struggled to cope with Matias' death.

He stayed true to his oath of doing no harm unto others without cause, but that didn't mean he couldn't harm himself.

When he wasn't training or on the battlefield he was in taverns drinking or in the bed of any man who would have him. The alcohol for the days he needed to feel numb to it all and the sex for the days when he needed to feel something anything at all. (even if he didn't enjoy it emotionally he could at least enjoy it physically)

When he was finally taken by the mindflayers he was at rock bottom, but now he had a chance to start anew.

and Gods he refused to waste it.

[gigglytrickster]

geheheheheheheheheh.... >;) grump all you want you totally had an out~ so as you wish~ coming riiiiight up~!!!

==bunnyfuntimes.mov attached==

The footage starts with the nude bunnygirl stepping back from setting her camera up on a tripod, a little giggly grin plastered across her rosy tan cheeks. She strikes a couple poses, turning this way and that - a little flex with her arms over her head to emphasize her muscles and chest, then a turn-and-bend to show off her pert Egbert rump, plush new tail all a-wiggle and heavy sac visible between her thighs.

"you can pretend all you want youre grumpy but this is your last chance to pause now before i get going!" she announces in a cheerful voice, "still watching? i thought so~ lets get going!"

The exuberant birthday-girl turns back to let the camera see her front once more, that hot-pink bunny-shaft standing stiff and twitchy out before her. Someone's exceptionally pent up, with a little runny river of milky precum running down her shaft before she's even touched herself, seemingly at all. She reaches down to wrap her fingers around it and almost flinches, gasping softly -

"oh wow thats more sensitive than it used to be..." murmurs the bunny-girl, taking a moment to just lightly touch and feel out the new shape of her member. Then she tilts her head back and begins to stroke, letting her own pre work as lube to make the motion smooth as can be. Her free hand palms her heavy new bunny-sac, rolling the heavy eggs within between her fingers and stroking along the centre-line where the fur fluffs up a bit more than the rest. Already the pre begins to pour faster, and within a few moment's she's letting out breathless moans and little fluttery gasps, amidst more leporine chirrups that come unbidden to her throat. The hand at her sac moves up to grip her shaft in a double-handed, hip-thrusting rhythm. She builds up a surprising speed before long, letting her fluffy sac sway with lurid rhythm beneath her bunny-cock. She casts a sly glance over at the camera now and then when she thinks of it, blowing a little kiss or trying to be flirty - she's no master flirt like some, but she's not a total slouch. Soon though, a sharp gasp sounds out, and her heavy, swollen pouch clenches up tight against her new sheath, visibly churning and throbbing as her length dances in her hands. With a low, guttural moan and a stomp of her bunny-foot on the floor, she begins to unload in the direction of the camera, letting a frankly shocking wave of lust gush forth in spurts so long and thick that they impact with the basin hidden below camera-level hard enough to make a loud, wet splattering noise. With her face a mask of pleasure she just keeps on bunny-rutting until she's utterly drained, her pouch visibly shrinking down to a much more managable size after some gallon or three of lust have left her. She strikes a little pose, looking weak about the knees, and makes a little show of licking up a single dollop of lingering cum before blowing a kiss once more and stepping in to kill the feed. Just before she does, she whispers to the camera's speaker -

"your turn~"

oh gosh, uhm! hello and thank you for following me on my birth day! :) if you would really like to see what it is i uhh, i guess two likes will suffice?

[teenandbeyond]

some angsty Raphael X fem reader where raph says things he regrets like "I use to love you" and "I don't know how I love you" with a fluffy ending????

Raphael x Fem. Reader Angst

Sure! I'm in an angsty mood today. Headcanon alert.

Want more from me? Masterlist 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

🧶Regrets🧶(TMNT or Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, short bc I finally wanted to finish it b4 I went to sleep

Society may have gotten to Raph's head a little...

✨✨✨✨

When you caught feelings for Raph...

He didn't believe it.

You, a human, liked him, a mutant?

It was impossible.

His insecurity was so strong he forced himself to believe the obvious bias toward him as friendship.

Until you kissed the corner of his lips and said, "I like you, doofus."

It took a while to become a pair, and you often had to reassure him (you expected it, though).

"Yes, I do like you."

"I want to be with you."

"I want you as much as you want me, Raph."

And he was...starting to feel that way for himself.

He really was.

But then you got into this romance movie phase and would watch them together.

You decided to be adventurous, copy some of what you saw...only it turned out a little awkward with Raph's towering form, not that you minded, you giggled, not caring too much about it.

That's where his doubt settled in.

You would've easily been able to do these things with a human man.

You couldn't kiss him like you could a human.

He had to be cautious of what strength he used with you so as to not hurt you.

He wasn't good enough for you, you deserved better, you deserved normal.

So, he put his feelings aside so you could get better.

"It's simple, [Name], I used tuh love ya' but I dunno how to anymore."

You blinked in confusion, "Where...where is this coming from? You weren't acting like this last time we were together..."

"Just didn't wanna hurt ya'."

"Too late for that."

He bit the inside of his cheek as you left the steamy argument.

He couldn't have regrets. He continued to remind himself for hours.

"Raphael."

Oh no, it's a rat.

"Yes, Master Splinter?"

"...Something happened between you and [Name], I presume?"

"How'd you--?"

His expression turned fond, "I know my son."

Raph broke eye contact, "I just...know she deserves better than me. I did it for her sake."

The elder mutant hummed in thought, "Did you even consider she might not want better than you? She could simply want you as you are."

"There's no way--"

"Did she ever confirm that she didn't want you, Raphael? Or is this stemming from your insecurity?"

"..."

"A major part of a successful relationship of any kind is communicating your emotions properly. You should give her and yourself the courtesy of doing so. Go find her."

And found you he did, crying into the stuffed animal he stole got for you.

He did that.

He gently knocked on your window, which was unlocked, a habit of yours he hated.

You didn't even have to look up to know it was him.

"What do you want, Raphael? Here to tell me how much you don't love me some more?"

"I wanted to talk...properly this time...And say I'm sorry."

You revealed a sad expression that broke him, "The Raphael is saying 'sorry'?"

"Yeah. I didn't mean to say those things to ya'."

"Then why did you?"

"Because you deserve better than me."

"Who said that?"

"The world."

"Well, we're in our own. I could care less about what anyone else says."

"You can't do things with me that you could do with human guys."

You raised a brow meeting him at the window, "Yeah, and? I know that. If I wanted to be with a human, I would've. I'm with you for a reason, Raph."

Good, you're calling him Raph again...

"Like what?"

"Because I love you, doofus. You, the ninja mutant turtle, who's a total grump, but a mega softie with me. The mutant turtle who protects me, but always allows me to protect myself, too. The turtle who makes me so many sweaters I need a plastic storage container to fit them all. Who makes me so many wood carvings I need a cardboard box. The mutant turtle who always finds a way to check up on me, even when I'm out of his patrol range. The turtle who watches romance movies with me, despite only liking half of them..."

He's speechless.

"I don't want some random human because that's what society accepts. I want someone I actually love."

You love him...him.

"...I love you too, [Name]. So much."

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 11: Playing the Game

AN: I hope y'all enjoy this non-stop flirt-a-thon, chapter count got increased again, so we'll get back to the plot in the next chapter!

At first, Marinette didn’t know how to act. This was the last route she expected Damian to take. The shock of Damian’s lips against hers turned her body rigid; hands splayed out to the sides, unsure of where to touch. After a second of floundering, she gained enough bearing to place her hands firmly on Damian’s arms. Her once still lips hesitantly moving against his. The closed-mouth kiss stayed chaste, but Marinette found herself fluttering her eyes closed, sinking into the warmth.

Damian stood taller than her, bending into the kiss while she craned her neck. Marinette pushed herself upward, arching onto the tips of her toes, and Damian’s hands wrapped tighter around her waist, deepening the kiss. She readjusted her mouth for a second grabbing a quick gasp of air before diving in again with more fervor. Damian responded in kind, pushing her back fully against the wall, one hand migrating from her waist to cup her cheek.

Damn. Damian was a good kisser.

“What the- Hey, customers are not allowed to be in here!”

Oh, right. The employee. That’s why they were kissing.

Why would kissing be helpful in this situation?

Not that Marinette was complaining, but-

Damian pulled away from her, and Marinette held back a pitiful whine when he turned away and faced the employee.

‘Bad thoughts, Marinette,’ she chided herself. ‘Focus on the mission, not Damian, or his lips, or his eyes, or-’

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” said Damian with a bashful smile.

Wait…

Blink.

What?

Marinette dragged herself out of the kiss-induced bliss, focusing on her co-conspirator, and had she been less in control of herself her jaw would have dropped.

Damian’s whole demeanor had markedly changed. His normal sharp posture sunk into a causal slouch; the emotions on his face, generally a mix of sharp observation or practiced disdain, now a mix of charming elegance and, yes, bashfulness. He flashed a wide grin at the oncoming employee, a person in their early twenties, who froze when they saw them.

Or rather, Damian.

Rapidly blinking bright blue eyes gazed at them. “Oh, oh you- you’re-”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know who I am,” said Damian, rubbing the back of his neck. Even the way he spoke changed; careful pronunciation and formality thrown out the window for a lax New Jersian drawl. “What’s your name?” He asked with such a genuine smile, had Marinette not been versed in people lying through their teeth, she would have bought it.

Not for the first time, Marinette wondered how famous Damian’s family was – obviously rich enough, and high profile enough - to be recognized on the spot.

The person paused for a moment, fiddling with a strand of curly blond hair. “I’m- I’m ah… Fey, nice to meet you Mr.-”

Damian cut them off with a laugh. “Oh please, any name with a mister makes me think of my father or my older brother. Call me Dami.” He offered a hand to the flustered Fey. They limply shook it.

“Oh… ah- alright Dami.”

Damian encircled a hand around Marinette’s waist dragging her out of the weirdness induced fugue state she’d fallen into. “And this… well,” he lowered his eyes, catching her attention and winked. “This is my girlfriend Marinette.”

Fuck, this is what he meant by play along.

Fey dropped open their mouth before closing it quickly.

“Oh, I hadn’t read-”

Damian cut the flustered employee off again.

“We’ve kept it quiet.” He waved his hand dismissively. “The papers would devour a story like this,” he said, with a sense of vapid annoyance, although a trace of his normal calculated disdain accented his words.

Note to self; Damian didn’t like the media. Good, Marinette didn’t much like the invasive vultures either.

Fey nodded along, twirling a lock of hair on their finger. “Oh yeah, that totally makes sense.” They paused shaking their head to clear away an emotion… awe? Fear? Marinette couldn’t tell. “But uh, why are you here? Like in the stairwell, not in the store. Because of course celebrities would still shop, right? I mean-” Poor Fey was a stuttering mess. Marinette almost felt bad for them.

She felt like an absolute stuttering mess too, but she would be damned if Damian would carry this lie all by himself.

She was fucking Ladybug; savior of Paris, Guardian of the Miraculous.

She could act like a lovestruck fool.

“It iz so sweet,” she said, emphasizing her accent to add a little more pageantry to this entire scheme. “I just arrived back from Paris, and wanted to decorate my new apartment with ze ah-” she waved her hands around, “Oh, how you Americans put it? Fairy lights?”

Fey nodded quickly. “Yeah, we have a couple of good selections, but-” Marinette continued before they could logic their way out of the made-up cover story.

“I planned to go by myself, but Dami-” at this she moved forward to wrap her arms around his, leaning into his side. The warmth of his body bleeding through his clothes. “He insisted on ‘companying me even though he dozen’t like ze crowds.” She leaned forward with a conspiratorial air. “He gets grumpy,” she divulged with a girlish giggle. Why Damian did a 180 on his personality was a complete mystery, but if he dropped the act, this would make Fey less suspicious.

Fey nodded right along like Marinette’s comment made total sense. “Yeah, I don’t read too many magazines, but damn they must pin you all wrong,” they said to Damian. From Marinette’s position at his side, she felt his body tense the slightest amount. “Gotham’s Ice Prince, yeah right.”

Marinette inwardly quirked an eyebrow. ‘Ice Prince, huh?’ The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on where she’d heard it before.

Damian nervously chuckled again, sounding more authentic this time. “Oh no, I’m a grump when it comes to the media, I fully admit. My, ah,” he looked at her again, an apology flashing in his green eyes. “Angel here puts me in a better mood.”

A rushing noise filled Marinette’s ears, and her heart quickened. She vaguely registered a squeal of delight coming from Fey, but it sounded far away compared to her blood pounding at a thunderous level. Heat flushed in her cheeks, and the confident smile she plastered on her face almost dropped at the pet name.

Angel.

He called her angel.

What level of utter insanity had she dropped into?

“A few disguises later,” Damian continued, adjusting the glasses on his face, and oblivious of the turmoil he’d created in Marinette’s mind. “I thought we’d be able to stay under the radar, I just wanted a day out with my girlfriend,” he said with a put-upon sigh. The emotional, charming actions stood in complete opposite to Damian’s normal demeanor.

Marinette found herself desperately torn between breaking down laughing hysterically or clapping at Damian’s masterful performance.

“You got noticed?” asked Fey.

“We got noticed.” Damian sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. Marinette regretted not touching it while she and Damian kissed; was it as fluffy as it looked? “And Marinette, the sweet angel she is, isn’t used to the whole utter insanity of… you know, dating a celebrity.” He glanced at her, teasing her with a fonder smirk than his usual. Marinette wanted to roll her eyes. Damian had no clue she knew very well the consequences of dating a celebrity.

Never mind she’d only dated Adrian a month before they broke up because his dad turned out to be a psychopathic supervillain intent on plunging the whole of France into an apocalyptic hellscape in an attempt to upset the universes’ balance, and was fully okay with killing the both of them to make it happen.

Being friends after that little debacle was the better option. For both their sanities.

‘Focus Marinette.’ She dragged her attention back to the conversation.

“We kinda ducked in here when nobody was paying attention. I want to keep this away from the media as long as possible, for my angel’s privacy.” Marinette wanted to scoff at how Damian leaned into that nickname. He certainly was laying it on thick. Marinette wouldn’t have bought the act, but that was due to her years of lying and deceiving in the name of super-heroics.

Fey, with their eager demeanor and bright blue eyes, didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh, that’s awful people wouldn’t leave you alone. I bet most celebrities would be familiar with the attention, but for you to look out for Marinette too?” They whistled. “Damn girl, he’s a keeper for sure.”

The blush gracing Marinette’s cheeks was 100% real. “Oh, well, ah, zank you. I know.”

“Well, no one will hear a word from me,” Fey promised. They fiddled with their hands and sent a shy smile at Damian. Marinette’s stomach clenched at the sight, and without her permission, her traitorous hands tightened their grip on Damian’s arm. “Without your family’s scholarship, my sister never would have graduated med school. She would kill me if I even thought of ratting you out to the papers.”

“Oh…” said Damian, his outward appearance of shock mirroring Marinette’s own internal emotions.

‘His family is rich enough to fund medical scholarships?’

“Well, that’s not on me directly, you know,” he commented. “All my father’s doing. I hope- ah… I hope she’s doing well?” Although his face portrayed a bashful and relaxed air, his body language screamed uncomfortableness. Marinette released one hand from his arm and brought it to rest on the small of his back, circling her thumb around. He relaxed, slightly, and Marinette smiled.

“Yeah, actually she is,” said Fey beaming. “She’s working at the new pediatric clinic that opened in Crime Alley.”

“Good for her,” said Damian honestly. “We need more people willing to work to make the city a better place. Money can only do so much.”

“Money definitely helps though,” Fey replied, wryly. Marinette agreed. Long-buried memories of her early years arose. Living above her parents’ shop, where every month they spread their bills across the kitchen table and talked in hushed tones while Marinette sat on the steps to her attic room and worried, even if at five and six she didn’t know what she was worried about.

Those days were long gone. Her parents and their creations internationally famous, with three separate locations across the greater Paris metro alone. But that worry never really went away.

Fey shifted on their feet reading their watch. “Well, you guys stay here if you want until whatever crowd out there loses interest.” They gestured to the door Marinette and Damian entered through. “Or you can come with me if you want?” Pointing to the other locked door. “I’m heading out to the atrium to deal with a problem, but you can continue on with your shopping.”

“Zank you so much,” Marinette replied. “We will go with you if you do not mind?”

“Of course not,” said Fey, walking to the door and pulling out a security key. They opened the door, but Damian held it allowing Marinette and Fey to walk through before he followed. Placing a hand once more around Marinette’s waist.

“What problem in the atrium, if you don’t mind me asking?” he prodded, sharing a look with Marinette.

It could be nothing, but it could also have something to do with his brothers.

Considering their luck today, Marinette would be shocked if it wasn’t the latter option.

“Oh, well it started with the children’s center shutting down. Apparently, the kids got it in their minds to start a dodge ball fight with the workers. Which, you know, totally fair,” confided Fey, as they walked through the back corridors. “Sounded like it was a blast to watch. I was such a shit when I was a kid, I would have joined them in a heartbeat. It wrapped up fairly quickly, but they can’t convince the main instigator to descend from the jungle gym. I think they’re still hunting down her parents.”

Marinette pursed her lips trying to hold back a smile. ‘Oh, Abby,’ she thought, ‘you absolute gem.’

“I only heard about it from Lisa when I got back because I was dealing with a security issue in the back lot.” Fey glanced at them nervously. “Not that there’s anything wrong, we’re perfectly safe.”

Marinette and Damian shared a look.

Jason.

“Of course,” said Marinette.

Followed by a quick, “Absolutely,” from Damian.

Fey relaxed. “So this is, apparently, a whole bunch of workers on strike? They walked out of the back warehouse and congregated in the atrium, spouting on about living wages and corrupt big business, and the effects of verbal abuse in the workplace.” Fey said with a wave of their arms. “And it’s not like I don’t agree, because I do. Jerry, the warehouse general manager, is an asshole.” Marinette and Damian exchange worried glances at the rotund angry man’s name, who they last saw dragging a singed Tim into an office.

“…but it makes my job hard,” whined Fey, oblivious to their compatriot’s inner panic. “And the Starbucks baristas joined them, so their kiosk closed too.” Fey chuckled, “I would avoid the whole area if I were you, especially if you don’t want anyone finding out you’re together.”

“I wonder how zat ended up happening?” Marinette asked hopefully her high-pitched voice conveyed confusion instead of slowly settling in panic.

“They called in saying some guy lead the charge, he’s worked the crowd into a fervor. I’m there to be the HR rep while security tries to remove him. You know, normally my job involves sitting at a desk all day listening to bitchy customers on the phone. I’ve dealt with more in-store problems today since last Black Friday.” Fey chuckled. “What a day, ya’ know?”

Marinette glanced at Damian, his casual mask still firmly in place, although his left eye twitched, and the hand he wrapped around her waist, tightened at Fey’s words.

Fey finally reached another door, pulling out their pass and lead them out into the store’s main section.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Marinette, Dami,” Fey chirped. “Nobody will hear from me about any of this.” They mimed zipping their lips.

Marinette smiled, hoping the strain wasn’t too noticeable. “It waz nice to meet you too Fey.”

“Good luck with whatever is happening in the atrium,” said Damian. They stood at the door and watched them move out of sight. When Fey finally disappeared around a corner, Damian turned to Marinette his casual persona rippling away as if it never existed at all. His hand slipped off her waist.

She did not, absolutely not, want to grab it and put it back thank you very much.

“How much do you wish to wager on Drake’s involvement in whatever is occurring in the atrium?” he asked. Marinette smiled, reassured at the return of his clipped and formal tone. The informal speech felt wrong coming from Damian’s mouth.

“Oh, I don’t know Dami?” she teased. Then again, she couldn’t let this opportunity pass by her. “I don’t think I have enough money for that bet with you.”

Damian closed his eyes with a grimace and sigh. “Do not call me that.” He opened his eyes, an expression just short of pleading radiated from them “Please.”

“I would rather gag, and it sounds so would you.” Marinette covered her grin with her hand, unable to stop a slight giggle at the man’s long-suffering tone. “You pulled off vapid lovesick celebrity well, but why the need to act at all?”

“I have plenty of reference to draw from,” he grumbled, piquing Marinette’s interest; every half aside comment enticing her to dig further at Damian’s life. “I needed whoever descended those steps on our side and my normal... demeanor tends to put people off.” He folded his hands behind his back, a perfect picture of casualness, but the tightness around his eyes and the twitch of his mouth was all Marinette needed to note his self-consciousness.

“Well, I for one find your usual self charming,” Marinette admitted, pleased when Damian relaxed at her words. “You freaked me out acting that weird.”

“It is not an option I use often,” Damian admitted. “My brothers tend to make big productions of themselves. I prefer a far subtler approach, but this required more theatrics to make it believable.” He glanced at her. “I hope…” he paused. She watched his hand flutter and turn into a fist at his side. “I hope I did not overstep your bounds, that is, I mean violate your...” Damian refused to look at her, his gaze firmly planted on a far wall.

Marinette could let the poor man continue but ended up taking pity on him before he dug an even deeper hole. She placed a hand on his arm. “You were fine. If I didn’t want you… kissing me,” she said the words out loud for the first time, reigning in a pleasurable shudder at the memory. “I would have pushed you off, and if I felt violated, which I didn’t, you would have found yourself on the ground in plenty of pain.”

Damian dragged his gaze back to hers, a small smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “Undoubtedly, yes, you easily could have done so.”

Marinette smirked again, not willing to let the entire debacle slip away quite yet though. “Although I have to ask, where in the world did angel come from? And what on earth made you think it would be a good nickname for our fake relationship?”

Damian lifted his nose haughtily. “It is a perfectly acceptable name of affection for a significant other. What, did you wish for ‘sweetheart’ or ‘doll’?” he asked, drawing out those names with the earlier casual New Jersian accent. Marinette withheld a shiver at his low tone of voice curling those words around his tongue. She may prefer his normal speech, but damn he still sounded unbearably attractive when he dropped that low.

‘Focus, Marinette. FOCUS!’ she inwardly screamed at herself.

“Goodness no,” said Marinette, forcing a pretend shudder. “Something with more class perhaps? Darling, or beloved?”

Damian pursed his lips. “Not beloved. That’s what my mother refers to my father with.” Marinette winced, yeah, that could be awkward. Not that this whole conversation wasn’t a disaster plucked out of a fever dream. Why, why was she debating Damian on the finer points of affectionate nickname giving?

But her mouth continued talking. “Alright, I suppose angel isn’t bad in comparison. Still, it’s a bit cliché. What does that make you? A demon?”

Damian tilted his head with a shrug. “Tt. My brothers do call me that on occasion, yes.” Oh right, Jason called him demon-spawn a few times during their confrontation. With the way Damian rolled his eyes in annoyance, Marinette figured a story lurked behind that particular nickname.

“Regardless, we have strayed dangerously off-topic here. We should head towards the pandemonium in the atrium, yes?” Damian pushed off the wall he’d leaned against, and Marinette followed.

“I thought it was Panic at the Disco?” Marinette teased with a grin.

Damian pointed a finger at her, trying for a stern expression, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “You think yourself terribly clever, don’t you?”

“I think I’m adorable,” she shot back. “But I also think you’re right. It sounds like Tim managed to involve himself. If he’s making a scene, I bet he’ll draw the rest of your brothers there too.”

“You think Grayson will escape the clutches of that ravenous she-wolf?”

Marinette scoffed. “Damian, you’ll insult wolves with that comparison. I thought she resembled more of a hyena myself.” The woman certainly shrieked enough for it. “From what I saw, your brother probably ducked out at the first opportunity available to him.”

“True. Which leaves Todd, and nothing attracts his attention more than a spectacle. Especially when Drake stands chance to make a fool of himself.” Turning a corner they found themselves several yards away from the open-aired atrium. A crowd of people lingered around the railing looking into the courtyard below. Clapping and cheers fill the air.

“Shall we?” asked Marinette, excitement brewing in her chest.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” grumbled Damian. “But I suppose we must.”

Tag List (or you can subscribe and read it here on ao3)

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[sami-at-ciela]

Prompt 6: Avatar

Or: “There’s too much wild crap going on for one ‘or’ line.”

I had a long chat with a buddy about how the amaro are basically dogs, and I thought about making my dogs into amaros. Sparki was a miniature schnauzer who loved me to bits but had an incredible attitude problem towards everyone else. Clearly, she’s a model amaro (maybe, maybe not).

I want to apologize in advance for the leaning on the 4th wall that shows up later in the story, but also? Nah. Revel in it.

The village of amaros had one odd dragonbird in its ranks.

Sparki was a pygmy amaro with a distinct fluffy while beard and an attitude. The first thing she did when she left her roost that morning was argue with Seto.

“Hey, Seto,” she barked, flapping over his roost walls and landing right in front of him. “Got a question for ya. That jock-looking guy you always palled around with-”

Seto gave a harrumph befitting his stature. “His name was Ardbert, Sparki, and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sparki grumped, flapping her wings in a dismissive huffy gesture. “Do you know if he had any kids who might have carried on the adventuring business?”

“No,” Seto grunted. “Why are you asking this now?”

Sparki gave a dracoavian shrug. “I dunno, I saw you with the pretty Viis lady in yellow, and she found your medallion and you got all mushy-gushy over it, and it got me thinking: I wanna go on an adventure, too. I remember, before I could talk, I always came by to yell at you and Ardbert and bite his ankles. It was a good time.”

Seto heaved his best exasperated sigh. “Yes, I remember as well, even if all we heard at the time was aggressive gweeing and the panicking of the rookery keeper as he came to retrieve you.”

“Meh. Idiot should have fixed the hole in the gates faster then. Too bad there is no gate anymore.” A beat passed, and Sparki changed her focus. “So! I think I’m gonna go on that adventure. I already packed some food and water, but what else do you think I need? Aside from a traveling companion who’s big and strong- or small and strong- and can make sure I don’t get my ass bitten by a Sin Eater?”

“How did you pack-” Seto shook his head. That bit of minutiae wasn’t important. “Sparki, you should be more willing to ensure that your companion isn’t bitten by a Sin Eater instead.”

“Oh, please! If I find a good buddy, they’re gonna be my ride or die. I swear it on my honor as an amaro! I wouldn’t be an amaro at all if I didn’t love people. Like, seriously.” Sparki huffed through her nose as her mind drifted. “Don’t get me wrong. I miss the hells out of my master. We went through so much crap together. No one else would make me wag my butt harder.”

“That has always been a strange habit of yours,” Seto cut in. “If you truly plan to seek a new master for whatever reason, I would advise visiting the Nu Mou some malms away. As faithfully industrious as they are, they may very well have a lead or two for you.”

Sparki raised one wing in a mimic of a salute. “Thanks for the tip, old pal! I think I’ll head straight for ‘em. See you when I make the big time!”

“What ‘big time?’” Seto scoffed, but it was too late. Sparki had already taken off and was cackling a most distinctive “Gwee-hee-hee-hee!”

From above, the Nu Mou settlement was easy to spot, and she whooped down right in front of one that nearly fell over from surprise. “An amaro? What brings you here?” they asked.

“I’m going on an adventure, my lop-eared friend,” Sparki declared. “I was told you folks might have a lead for me to go to or a person to meet. But I’m no idiot! I wouldn’t dare ask you for a favor without giving you patronage first.”

The Nu Mou cocked their head. “Normally it is the patronage of men we seek, but in these desperate times, any patron is welcome. I suppose, while I don’t know of any special travelers beyond the ones who slew the Lightwarden, I can make it easier for you to meet more people.”

“Oh? And how would you do that?”

“I would design a glamour for you to disguise yourself as a person.”

Sparki goggled at the notion. “Count me in! That sounds awesome! What do I gotta do to help with that?”

“I require a certain type of very reflective fish from the river,” the Nu Mou said. “If you find me three, I can begin the process.”

“A very reflective fish…? Oh yeah! I know those! They were supposed to be my lunch, but I can find more easy-peasy.” Sparki stuck her nose into a saddlebag and flicked out three sparkling fish. “How’s this?”

The Nu Mou surveyed the offerings and nodded. “I applaud your preparation. These are indeed the right kind. Allow me to set them up, and we can get started.”

The three fish were laid out in a line and accompanied by gemstones and special herbs. The Nu Mou waved their wand, and a projected image shimmered over the fish. “I’ve decided to start with a dwarf as a base,” they said. “Or… something like one.”

People from the Source would have called the not-quite-a-dwarf a Lalafell.

“Huh, neat. Do I get to pick stuff out, or are you gonna choose for me?”

“I have preset options, but you are free to choose from them.”

The next half hour or so was spent grumbling about hairstyles, eye shapes and colors, and the precise angle of eyebrows. Eventually, Sparki chose her glamour: a Lalafell with black hair that faded to grey tied up in buns, deep blue eyes, and the distinct lack of pupils of a Dunesfolk.

“This is too cool,” Spari beamed. “There’s no option for me to keep my beard though. Can you fix that?”

The Nu Mou shook their head. “It would require more coding than I am capable of.”

“Coding?”

“Yes, coding. Magical programming. It’s an emerging field and nothing you need worry too much about as a front-end user.”

“Huh… okay.” Sparki shrugged and shook herself off. “So, how do I put it on?”

“I do that for you.” The Nu Mou uttered a spell in fae-speak, pointed their wand at Sparki, and in a flash of aether, she took the form of the pictured Lalafell.

“Oooooooh!” Sparki squealed as she marveled at her new form, flexing her fingers and tapping her toes on the ground. “This is wizardry! Literally! You bet  I’m giving you another fish as a tip.”

The Nu Mou began to flail. “Please, we do not require or even accept tips! We Nu Mou ask for only our established patronages, no more, no less!”

Sparki stopped testing her glamour body out, dug around in what had been her saddlebag, and flung out an extra fish. “Take. the. Tip,” she grunted. “Either that or increase your prices. Don’t undersell yourself. Three shiny fish ain’t nothing compared to the awesomeness of this glam.”

“I-I wouldn’t feel comfortable raising my prices!” the Nu Mou sputtered.

“Fine, fine, just know what you’re worth, okay? And don’t be afraid to ask for coffee. Or tea. Or even a monthly payment of 500 gil!” Sparki looked to the sky. “Aw, crap, I can’t fly in this form- wait a second.” In a display unlike anything seen thus far, she made her wings clip through the back of her avatar. “There we go!”

The Nu Mou gasped in horror, clutching the extra fish close. “Y-you can’t request a glamour like that and then immediately break it!”

“Meh, I’ll figure out how to put ‘em back later,” Sparki muttered, ignoring how aghast the fae in front of her was. “Seriously? I owe you one. When I make it big, I’m gonna make sure you’re properly credited, just you wait!”

Before the Nu Mou could object, the amarofell took off, gwee-hee-heeing all the way.

[i3utterflyeffect]

On Agni’s Honor - Chapter 5

On AO3

Something or other about waterbending practice. Zuko and Sokka both get soaked, and Zuko absolutely, most definitely, does NOT have ANY fun with the enemy whatsoever.

As the rest of them began packing up camp, Zuko— in classic fashion— stubbornly refused to help, instead going over to spoil Appa and pet him.

Well, at least Appa’s happy, Sokka thought bitterly, hoisting his bags up as he walked over to the others.

“Ready for takeoff?” Aang asked, Momo perched on his shoulders.

“Yeah, I think so.” Sokka tossed his bags onto Appa’s back, climbing on.

Everyone turned to Zuko.

The Prince looked up from the fluffy bison, his shoulders slumping as he made a dramatic groan. Still, he climbed aboard with not much else complaint. He reached out and scooped Momo up into his lap as the lemur hopped towards him.

“Yip, yip!” Sokka called out, snapping the reins, and they were off.

—

Zuko didn’t like flying much more than before.

He still felt nauseous— although he hadn’t thrown up yet, that was a plus— and being high, high up with no land in sight didn’t do much to comfort him when he was up here.

With the Avatar. And his friends who probably would not hesitate to kill him.

Speaking of.

He turned from his position hanging over the saddle, watching as Aang paced back and forth, practically hyperventilating.

It was, in all honesty, starting to get on his nerves.

“Would you sit down?!” Sokka snapped, looking back. “If we hit a bump, you’ll go flying off. What’s bugging you anyway?”

“It’s what Avatar Roku said—“ Aang explained, looking over. “—I’m supposed to master all four element’s before that comet arrives.”

“Sozin’s Comet?” Zuko asked, sitting up. “That arrives next summer. There’s no way you could do it all in time.”

“Zuko!” Katara hissed, and he glanced back over to where Aang looked even more stressed than before.

“Hey, don’t listen to him, Aang!” Sokka piped up. “You’ve pretty much mastered airbending, and that only took 112 years. I’m sure you can master the other three elements by then.”

Sokka’s words didn’t help.

…at all.

In fact, the airbender began pacing again at a quicker speed, hands pressed against his head. “We’re still weeks away from the north pole! I haven’t even started waterbending yet! What am I going to do?!”

Katara shot a glare at Zuko, then Sokka, before grabbing onto Aang’s arm. “Calm down, Aang. It’s gonna be okay. I can teach you some of the stuff I know, if you want?”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course. We’ll need to find a good source of water, first…”

“Maybe we can find a puddle for you two to splash in,” Sokka snarked.

Zuko wasn’t proud to say that earned a snort from him.

—

They soon landed by a grandiose waterfall leading into a large lake, surrounded by pines.

“Nice puddle,” Sokka said dryly as he looked up at it.

Katara and Aang didn’t reply, but they both looked delighted by their ‘puddle’.

Zuko, meanwhile, didn’t bother staying to listen to them talk, instead going off by the riverside where a family of turtleducks was gathered.

He fished out one of the small pouches he kept on him— “It’s best to be prepared for anything that might happen,” Uncle had always told him— and fished for some of the bread he kept in there.

Instead, his hand touched fabric, and he frowned, before pulling out…

Katara’s pendant…

…Right.

He had been planning to use it as a bargaining chip before everything had turned sideways.

Maybe it could still be useful, though. It’s not like I’m going to be stuck with them forever. I can use it after I leave.

That felt wrong, but he figured he’d cross that bridge once he got to it.

He stuffed the pendant back into the pouch before pulling out an actual piece of bread, breaking it into smaller pieces for the turtleducks.

“Hey Zuko,” Sokka said.

Zuko startled, dropping the bread onto his lap and promptly getting mobbed by turtleducks. He fell onto his back as Sokka broke into laughter, glaring up at him. “Sokka—!”

“I’m sorry, i-it’s really hard to be intimidated when you’re being mobbed by turtleducks!”

Zuko could feel his face turn red with embarrassment, quickly sitting up again. He gently scooped the turtleducks off of his lap, standing and brushing breadcrumbs off of his clothes.

“Oh, come on! It’s cute!”

“I’m not cute— and playing with animals isn’t princely.”

“You didn’t seem to care about that when you were petting Momo and Appa.”

“Shut up!”

“What? I’m just saying,” Sokka shrugged.

“I will set your hair on fire.”

“Try setting me on fire when you’re drenched!” Sokka exclaimed, pushing Zuko into the water.

Startled, Zuko sprung up from the water and glaring at Sokka as he grinned proudly.

He wasn’t going to get into a fight with the Avatar’s friend with no backup, although the idea was very, very tempting.

In fact, he had a better idea.

He grabbed Sokka’s leg, dragging him into the water as well, and laughing at him as he surfaced, completely drenched.

He didn’t expect Sokka to run at him and wrestle him into the water.

Zuko panicked for a moment, before he realized that Sokka was just playing around— Not Azula’s way of playing, if that could even be considered as such, but like Lu Ten.

Zuko ducked into the water, slipping out from Sokka’s grip, before springing up and splashing him.

—

Aang, distracted, looked over to the two boys as they wrestled in the water.

“Hey, look! They’re getting along!”

“…Are you sure they’re not trying to kill each other?”

“Yeah— look, they wouldn’t be smiling if they were!”

Much to Katara’s surprise, Aang was right. Both of them had mischievous grins on their faces, and Zuko actually looked like he wasn’t going to murder someone for once.

“Huh,” was all she could say.

“…Anyway, what other moves do you have?”

She frowned. “I kind of know this one other move…”

—

As a shadow fell over the water, the two of them stopped playing, looking up only to see a wave towering over them.

“AANG—!” Sokka cried out—

Then the wave came crashing down on the two of them. Zuko nearly lost his footing in the water, but quickly caught himself.

Sokka… wasn’t so lucky. He emerged from the water five feet back, looking significantly soured in his mood.

“Looks like I got the hang of that move,” Aang exclaimed cheerily as he looked to Katara. “What else you got?”

“That’s enough practicing for today,” Katara said.

“Yeah, I’ll say!” Sokka exclaimed. “You just practiced our supplies down the river!”

Aang grimaced. “Uhh… sorry. I’m sure we can find somewhere to replace all this stuff!”

“Life was hard enough when you were just an airbender,” Sokka grumped, sinking into the water.

“There’s a market up the river,” Zuko said, climbing out of the water and wringing out his phoenix-tail. “We can go there for new supplies, and I might be able to find a messenger bird to send word to my uncle.”

Katara looked at him for a moment, nodding. “Sounds like a plan. Come on Sokka!”

Zuko looked to Sokka— who was still moping— before pulling him out and dragging him to Appa. “Let’s go.”

[snowdog49]

Hayate’s First Snow

General Audience

1784 Words

For @by-nina Merry Christmas from your secret Santa.  She got up from the bed, rising as her routine dictated. Groaning at the cold floor, she made her way to the hot shower. As she turned on the hot water, steam billowing out of the bathroom, she looked out to see her dog whining in his bed. He was antsy, still a puppy, but determined to stay where it was warmest. Almost grown, Hayate was still a puppy-like. He’d proven entertainment for Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye for the first year as well as most of the department. He bounced from one end of the office to the next, learning how and when to play. At home, he learned to be obedient and calm. In less than a year, he’d grown into quite the dog, if Riza said so herself. His black and white fluffy tail wagged as she looked at him, appreciating the attention she was giving him before getting in the shower. But Riza knew he’d stay in his bed till she returned. 

He still jumped up and down a bit, wagging his tail with an open mouth as they got ready to go outside. His food routine was pristine and worthy of Riza’s reputation. He walked by her side, flawlessly heeled. But putting his leash on in the mornings? He still danced around a little bit. That was something still something to work on. “Sit,” she ordered firmly. Hayate did immediately, his tail still thumping against the floor. Her fingers carefully clipped the leash onto the collar. “Now, wait.” He sat still, tail wagging, as the door was opened and Riza stepped out. “Okay, Hayate. Heel.” 

She could see the snow falling through the door’s window of her apartment complex. “Oh,” she said in surprise. But Hayate would have none of it. She opened the door and stepped out the feel a tug on her leash. He growled, looking up at the sky. It was a curious growl, unsure of what was going on. “It’s just snow,” she said with a chuckle. He relented, stepping out into the fresh snow. He lifted his paws, looking at it and the print in the snow, then up at her, back down at the snow. His tail began to wag once more and he looked around to see it falling around him. 

Riza waited patiently for him to adjust to the white surprise. She wasn’t in any rush. It was her day off and now she was open to the idea of watching her faithful dog bounce happily in the snow. He bit at it falling, looking upset that he wasn’t catching anything. Then sniffed the ground before biting it. She surmised that he was taken aback by the cold sensation on his tongue. He seemed to want to spit it out, only to feel it dissolve in his mouth. His tongue slipped in and out, looking disgusted, before turning to bite it again. Riza tried not to laugh. “Come,” she chuckled. “Let’s go to the park.” 

His ears pivoted as the sound of boots made a soft crunch on the snow. His own feet were making it too. He turned behind to see his footprints, trailing from where he’d been moments ago. Riza knew it wasn’t something he’d ever seen before. He was used to the grassy fields of the headquarter’s courtyards, or the rough carpet of the office as far as his normal environment. She could also see that he was doing his best to adapt. It didn’t snow very often in East City, a special treat for both her and Hayate. Within a couple days, she was sure it’d turn to rain and the season would be less than amusing to her Colonel. 

The children of the city were celebrating the snow, considering it was the weekend, at the park. There were snowball fights, a giant snowman being built, and snow angels decorating the hills. By this point, Hayate had refocused on his owner’s side, and Riza was amused at the children. It was always good to see children in their innocence, playing and enjoying something before adulthood took the joy away. Even Hayate, who in his animal innocence, offered her peace of mind that things could be simple. Her steps were lazy, her eyes watching as two children made snowballs to throw at their friends. Her hands buried themselves in her pockets the leash hanging slack on her wrist. She walked slowly, smiling as she felt the snow peck her nose. Riza should have grabbed a scarf in the chilly air. She supposed she’d start making her way home soon. 

A tug and yip from Hayate made her look down. He was barking at the snowballs. Her eyes darted from him to the balls being thrown. His tail wagged happily, his tongue out as he watched the snow being thrown. 

“Does your dog like balls?” A child nearby asked. 

“He does,” Riza smiled. 

“He can play with us.” The kid made a ball, tossing it in the air at Hayate. The dog jumped up, only chomping down on it to see it disappear. He stood there, aggravated that the ball was just a cold impact in his mouth. He barked again before Riza bent down and unclipped her dog. He was still a puppy and a great dog, there was no reason he couldn’t go play with the kids for a while. When she called, he’d come back. 

“You’re going to get sick if you don’t wear a hat, Lieutenant.” 

Riza looked next to her to see a handsome man holding a pair of gloves out to her. He was wearing a hat with a heavy black wool coat. “Colonel,” she greeted with a nod. “Are you out to see the kids play too?”

“And a dog,” he grinned. 

She accepted the gloves, putting them on with a smile. 

“At least it’s not raining,” he chuckled. “It’s not like East City to snow. Maybe it’s a sign of good luck.” 

“I think so, Sir.” 

He stood next to her, his hand brushing hers. “It seems that he doesn’t understand snow.” He nodded towards the black and white dog pouncing in the snow after a snowball had landed there, disappearing. She felt another brush, his pinky finger rubbing against hers. 

“No, Sir. This is the first time he’s seen it.” 

Hayate rolled in the snow after a child making a snow angel, jumping up to shake it off before chasing the next kid behind the snowman. 

“I think he will sleep well after this,” Riza said, reaching out as her finger touched his in return. “It will be good tomorrow when I have more work to get done at the office. 

“It’s our day off, let’s not think of work.” She watched as the white the puff of breath dissipated into the air. 

Hayate barked and broke her imagined dream of them not at work but in her living room sipping a warm tea or a cocoa. He barked and snarled as the children put a hat on the snowman, the eyes already in place. Two other children stuck sticks in the sides, laughing. Hayate backed up between Riza and the evil snowman, barking angrily. The children only laughed, twisting the arms so the branches moved, making it look as if he was waving. Hayate didn’t like that at all. 

“Black Hayate,” Colonel Mustang called. 

The dog completely ignored him, backing up to protect his master. 

“Hayate, no,” Riza said firmly. Her faithful canine stopped barked, grumping one last time before sitting down. 

“Why does he ignore me,” the Colonel sighed. 

“He’s the only one that does.” She chuckled. “Shall we go get a cocoa then?” 

The Colonel nodded, smiling as he tilted his head affectionately towards his Lieutenant. “I know a great place on 31st.” Little did anyone know, his place was on 31st. But Riza knew. They both looked over to see her dog lift his leg to pee on the snowman. 

“Hey,” two kids yelled and tried to grab the puppy. He had no interest in being caught and barked as he evaded their little mittened hands. It’d quickly turned into a game of catch the dog, which Hayate was more than happy to play. He jumped easily over the fort walls, sliding and swinging in the snow with a grin. 

“He’s definitely enjoying this.” 

Riza nodded. “We were out last week and he and two other dogs bonded.” 

“Bonded?”

“They played a short of tag game,” she concluded. “He is quite quick on his feet.” 

“Like someone else I know,” he grinned, looking at her with a light laugh. 

“You’re funny, Sir.” 

“Let me-” 

“No,” Riza quickly interjected. “I can get Hayate.” 

“I insist,” the Colonel grinned. “Kids love me, and your Black Hayate does too.” 

Black Hayate thought it was another game. The black dog bounced from one end to the other, Colonel Mustang raising his finger to indicate to Riza that he had it before Hayate would bounce to the other end. The kids joined in on the fun, chasing him from Roy. “Come,” he called gently. “Come on, Hayate.” The dog only smiled, his tongue hanging out in a boastful grin. Roy bent down, standing wide as a kid chased Riza’s dog his way. Roy leaned forward, reaching over to catch the laughing pup, but he proved uncatchable again as he turned ninety degrees and darted between two kids. Roy was in the snow. His feet slipped from under him, landing with quite the gruff. 

It took a lot for Riza not to laugh. She sighed, recognizing that her Colonel was not only useless in rain but also snow. “Black Hayate,” she called with a pat on the thigh. 

Mustang stood up, resisting a threatening slip again as he brushed his pants off. “I had him on the run,” he joked with a chuckle. 

“I’m sure you did, Sir.” 

Hayate didn’t understand love like Riza did. He had a sense of love to her, and maybe that was the same that he saw with the affectionate gazes that were exchanged. But he didn’t understand the shoulder bumps or the light chuckles. Like him to her, there was a sense of loyalty that hung in the air with the two. Just by looks, Hayate would guess they were two were colleagues. His puppy instincts felt the air around them and they told another story altogether. He’d seen this before too. As his little puppy paws made little prints in the snow, two sets of boot prints set in the snow beside his. They were his pack. In the first snow he’d ever experienced, he also found a more amusing love than white cool puffs.

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Cursed G Pt 7(Gilgamesh, Hakuno)

Previous Part: One - Haku POV / Gil POV, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

______

The sun was outside the window, setting over the neighboring buildings as Hakuno opened her eyes.

She’d slept the day away.

That was probably fine. She really hadn’t needed to work today. It was Sunday. No one was going to be looking for her on a day like this. She would have shifts during the week and sometimes on the occasional Saturday, but Sundays were her time.

No classes either.

There was no reason to get up.

The blankets were so warm and inviting. They felt so soft today, with her safely out of the way of the rest of the universe. She could just stay here until the late night and then sneak to the kitchen to snack on some cheese and wine. Maybe she could get some turkey out for G.

Ah, G.

Hakuno glanced over at the cat, yawning softly.

The fluffy grump was yawning back at her, scooting a little closer and beginning to lick her cheek.

Such an affectionate thing.

“Are you hungry, G?”

Hakuno sat up a little, pulling G closer.

Her eyes closed, her face pressing against his fur…

Emiya.

Gilgamesh talking to her over dinner.

SHIT!

Hakuno leaped to her feet, all but dropping G onto the bed as she hurried to find something to wear.

She owed Emiya explanations!

Gilgamesh was hopping down from the bed though, giving her a meow before heading for the living room.

There was no time for that now though. She really needed to get going. Her pants were thrown on without preamble. Her shirt was the first one that she could find nearby. Shoes were by the door, her coat was put on as Gilgamesh meowed from the living room.

“I’ll be back in a bit!”

She hurried out the door, locking it and running to her car.

Her phone was out and dialing Emiya as she pulled out of her driveway.

“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please hang up and try your call again.”

“Emiya!”

Damn it.

He normally worked on Sunday evening. She could swing by his workplace with some food and get back onto his good side with food.

That didn’t seem like a bad plan.

She tried dialing again, thinking about food places when the phone picked up.

“Emiya-“

“Hi Hakuno!”

Sakura?

Hakuno pulled over, frowning as she picked up the phone and held it to her ear.

“Hey, what’s going on? I overslept today-“

“Emiya said that you had found someone and that you had a serious relationship happening.” The woman was smiling through the phone. “I’m so happy for you! You should bring him to our next study group.”

She couldn’t exactly do that when the arranger of the study groups was currently having someone else answer the phone. What was going on.

Hakuno shifted in her seat, the amount of energy she felt being stronger than usual.

“Am I missing a session?”

“No, Emiya and I are on a date.”

“O-oh.”

The woman on the other end of the line was talking a lot. She was sounding very excited about the whole thing, but…

When had they started to become close like that?

“Did you need something, Hakuno?”

“I-I forgot the homework for tomorrow.”

“Oh! I’ll have Emiya text you it when we get home!”

“Thanks, Sakura.”

She hung up before the other could speak any further. She pressed her phone to her chin, thinking quietly as she sat there in her car.

He’d seen Gilgamesh.

The arrogant king had made it clear that she was taken, going so far as to insult Emiya while he was at it. Since they’d never actually bothered with a relationship, it made sense that Emiya would take this as a sign that they were never going to actually date.

She hadn’t really wanted to date him, but…

“Ugh, what am I thinking?”

She brushed a hand through her hair, glancing at the dashboard of the car.

What time is it?

The car flicked on, the engine coming to life so she could see the digital clock display the time.

The keys-

The keys were still in the ignition, but they weren’t turned.

She turned it herself, finding the car making a dissatisfied sound from having the ignition pressured to begin twice.

What on earth…

She glanced around, narrowing her eyes on one of the people walking on the street.

What was he thinking?

Moments passed.

The man on the street glanced her way a moment and frowned, turning his head once more and heading down the street further.

So… no superpowers randomly appearing.

It was weird that her car had turned on though.

Maybe she had imagined that it had happened.

That must have been it. Shock, confusion, the whole situation with her cat being an ancient and long lost king from a far away country- it was all just getting to her now. Going home and resting was probably the best favor she could do for herself.

That and coffee.

She didn’t even hesitate from walking into the coffee shop, ordering a usual and ignoring the looks from her frazzled hair and haphazard dressing capabilities.

One sip of the coffee said don’t worry about it.

She was an overworked college student.

The sweet taste of expensive syrups, energizing espresso that would be running through her system like a marathon runner, and the fine taste of the milk to smooth everything out was going down nicely as she stepped back out and headed for her car.

She was awake now.

Fully awake.

No more weird occurrences.

…other than Gilgamesh being an ancient king.

Only one weird occurrence now.

Hakuno pressed her hands to the wheel and shook her head, smiling a little. “Car, turn on.”

The engine burst to life, idling in wait for her to reverse from the parking space and head home.

The keys were still in her pocket.

She leaned to the side, feeling the side of the steering wheel where she was supposed to be placing her keys. All that met her hand was the keyhole slot where her keys went.

This was not a newer car.

There was no push to start or voice action.

In fact, she was barely able to have the satellite radio that was popular.

How did I…?

Did Gilgamesh have something to do with this?

Gods, but what was she even asking? Her cat? How would he know how to do anything with her car when he was barely able to understand how the television worked? He’d called it a painting! Plays on a painting, if she remembered correctly.

She had to try something else.

“Car, turn off.”

The car shut off.

Maybe…

Maybe she had this power over technology?

There was no way she could just go home before she knew the extent of this power. She had to try something else.

Climbing out of the car, Hakuno headed down the road.

Just a short walk and then she would head home with her coffee and start making nice with Gilgamesh and thinking about what to do with him.

There were a few plants that were looking a little dry in flowerbeds nearby.

They would look much better in bloom.

Others on the street paused along with her as the blooms began to grow. The small, dying tree was suddenly shoot up higher, its leaves turning a deeper and richer green color before bursting forth with a handful of cherries.

HOLY SHIT!

“How did that happen?” a few people asked one another.

“That was cool!”

That was very cool.

Hakuno glanced to another tree nearby, watching it do the same as she focused on it.

So she could turn her car on and she could grow plants better than anyone would have ever expected. No mind reading though.

Although…

A couple people passed her by.

No mind reading.

Damn.

That would have been so useful for school.

She could make the graffiti on the walls of the buildings run down the side of the building like water, puddling on the ground in a dark mass. She could make the windows lose their dust and dirt, giving a clearer picture of what was inside.

More plants.

She made the whole area suddenly bloom and grow forth until it was a lush city center.

Her eyes looked up towards the heavens.

“Rain…”

A drop fell upon her nose.

Then another.

The amount of water had grown enough that the clouds were heavy enough to pour forth rain to the earth. A flash of light here and there went off, followed by thunder as people suddenly hurried to overhangs and to buildings nearby.

As the rain fell, Hakuno looked around in amazement.

She had a cat that had crossed ages upon ages of time.

She had unlocked the mysteries of his curse and probably could put some brainpower into it to resolve the problem.

Now, she was doing magic.

There was no other word for it. Superpowers would imply that she was born to power or somehow had gotten into some kind of weird accident. Superpowers tended to have names that were either ridiculous or impossible to remember. Or impractical.

No, she could just do magic.

She let the rain continue, heading to her car and driving back to her home.

With a wave of her hand, her front door unlocked.

It was so cool.

She’d never deal with a locked door for the rest of her life.

Gilgamesh meowed loudly, running forward and looking up at her. His tail swayed slightly, his eyes narrowing.

“Gil, I can do magic.”

Not a single change other than his tail continuing to sway back and forth.

“No, Gil… Come here.”

She picked the cat up, carrying him to the kitchen and looking up at the ceiling.

“Lights on!”

The lights burst on in the room.

Gilgamesh meowed at her.

He had to be impressed. That was the kind of magic that magicians themselves would have killed to possess. It was the kind of amazing talent that would have blown the minds of skeptics and fanatics alike. Magic was real!

“Let’s make a bath and warm the water with magic next,” she told the cat, carrying him towards her room.

She carried him further into the house, down the hallway towards her room and the master bath.

The world… spun.

Hakuno grabbed the wall, dropping Gilgamesh as she tried to keep herself from falling over. Her vision was blurring around her as Gilgamesh meowed.

“I think I just… need something with caffeine…”

She was suddenly so tired…

Why was she this tired?

The room spun more, those red eyes looking over at her as Gilgamesh hissed and hurried closer.

“I-I’m fine…”

She was fine.

Just… maybe a moment…

[mamabearcat]

Fairytail Cafe

Sooo, I was feeling inspired by the cute Fairytail merch released by Charaum Cafe, and decided to write something cute and fluffy. And then I wrote this. Not what I was expecting. I really don’t understand my brain sometimes. First course is self indulgent NaLu romantic angst, with a hot NaLu lemon souffle on the menu for dessert.

This will be a two shot, the next part will be available on my AO3, and I’ll post the link when I’m done. WARNING: this fanfic includes mention of sexual assault. If this is triggering for you, please don’t read. 

“Strawberry dessert for Table 8 Mira!” called out Erza, flicking her dark red pigtails over her shoulder. Mira was in her element at her post behind the dessert bar, already plating up, so Erza stayed for a moment to wait, taking a moment to look back at the café. 

It was the tail end of the controlled chaos that was the lunchtime rush, the buzz of happy chatting customers only broken by the occasional clink of cutlery on china. Most of the customers had already been served their meals and were happily indulging in the sweet desserts and pretty drinks that the café was famous for. Erza smiled the satisfied smile of a person almost finished a job well done. They only had about twenty minutes left of their shift before Team Shadowgear and Gajeel and Lily would arrive to take on the afternoon shift, and she was eager to get home to Fairy Hills and soak in the open-air bath. Stockings and heels may be pretty, but after working a busy six-hour shift waiting on tables, her feet ached. 

When Master had said he’d finalised a deal with a local theme café to have a Fairytail month, where each team took shifts as wait staff, none of them had realised just how popular it would be. The café was booked out for the next three weeks, and Max had gone to town designing merchandise – coffee mugs, stickers, acrylic standees, keyrings – but they all seemed to be selling. Erza was particularly proud of the fact that her keyrings had already sold out. 

Their team seemed to be very popular so far, with Erza and Lucy as waitresses, Happy and Carla as drinks waiters, Natsu as a busboy, Gray on drinks and Wendy on desserts. She had been rostered on desserts the first day, and admittedly that had not gone well; Wendy possessed much more self-control around sweets than she did. And they were all very grateful that the usual kitchen staff took care of the cooked meals – she was sure Natsu being left to his own devices in a kitchen would result in catastrophe. 

Poor Wendy had called in sick with a cold today, with Carla staying home too to, to keep an eye on her. They were lucky that Mira had happily taken her shift; her experience behind the bar at Fairytail made her a valuable ally on a job like this. 

“There, all done”, said Mira, adding a sprig of mint as a garnish. Erza drooled a little at the plate decorated with strawberry coulis with three different strawberry themed desserts, including cheesecake. 

“No eating until you’re on break Erza”, she teased, handing over the finished plate. 

“I know”, Erza grumbled, carefully picking up the plate and placing it on her tray, ready to head back out into the café. 

Gray grinned slyly at her, finishing off another icy drink order, frosting the top of the glass carefully. 

“I’ve never known you to be so restrained around cheesecake Erza. Much better than you were the first day.” He handed the drink to Happy, who was ready to zoom it over to the waiting customer. 

“Yeah, poor Erza” teased Happy, an annoying grin on his face. “Having to look at cheesecake all day and not allowed to eat any! I bet there’ll be none left for you!” Happy zoomed out of Erza’s attack range quickly, taking the frosted drink with him. He might be cheeky, but he wasn’t stupid. 

“Don’t worry”, whispered Mira behind her hand, “I’ve saved one for you”. She winked as Erza headed back out on to the floor, dessert held high on a tray so she wouldn’t be tempted, a serene smile on her face as a waft of strawberry scent from the dessert floated down to her. 

Natsu grumped his way around, picking up and stacking empty plates on his trolley. He really didn’t like this job. He hated his uniform, black shoes, pants, apron and vest over a white shirt. At least they let him keep his scarf. He missed his usual clothes, not only because they were comfortable, but this uniform wasn’t flameproof like his trademark pants and jacket, so he had to be careful with his magic. It made him feel agitated and antsy. He couldn’t even let off a little steam fighting anyone, and he was stuck inside for hours, picking up after messy customers when they left. 

But that wasn’t the worst of it. He kept one eye on Lucy at all times as he picked up the dirty dishes and glasses. That uniform they had her in was drawing every pervert’s eyes in the place to her; thigh high white beribboned stockings and a tiny strapless black dress with an even tinier apron. It was so short she couldn’t even bend down in the thing, but had to bob down, bending her knees a little to place plates on the tables. Watching all the leering looks and crass comments about his partner had him on edge and after five straight days of it, he was almost at his limit. 

He could tell Lucy was uncomfortable, and he’d spoken to her about it last night when he’d walked her home, but she’d brushed off his concerns, saying it was probably all in good fun. It didn’t seem like she was having fun though. Her smile this week didn’t have its usual brilliance, and he could tell she was dreading coming into work here now. Even though she said she didn’t want to say anything to Gramps about it, after today, he definitely would. 

For instance, those pricks on Table 5 had been leering at her every lunchtime this week, and he’d been watching them get more and more blatant, their comments more personal, especially that prick in the grey pinstriped suit. The table was up the back of the café, a booth with high sides, and they obviously thought they could get away with it. 

These bastards needed to be taught how to be respectful, and he was pretty sure his fist in their face would do the job – he’d be happy to do it. He growled under his breath, watching the men on the table cackle as she approached with their lunch, her tray full of hot coffee. As he heard what they were saying, the air around him shimmered with heat, and his low rumbling growl startled the customers around him. Fuck, this was the last straw. He looked around for Erza, knowing if he went over all by himself, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself punching the sick leer off that prick’s face. This was gonna end now! 

Lucy was not having a good day. It was her fifth lunchtime shift as a waitress, and the same table of guys was back again. They were all business men, dressed in suits, and they seemed to be here every lunch time, and asked for her by name whenever she was working. To put it bluntly, they were a little more ‘handsy’ than she liked, and it was creeping her out. She didn’t mind smiling and flirting a little, understood it was part of the job, but they were taking it too far. 

And this uniform she was wearing didn’t help. She was very comfortable with her body, and had no problem showing it off thank you very much, but this was a little too much, even for her. They had all given their measurements to Master before the uniforms were ordered, but hers was more than a little on the small side, and she had a feeling that was entirely his fault, dirty old man. 

One guy in particular on that table had her feeling very unsure of herself. He was tall and muscular, imposing, his black hair slicked back, his fingers covered in gold rings. His appearance was always impeccable, a crisp snow-white shirt under a dark grey pinstriped suit. He had the air of someone who always got what he wanted, and if it wasn’t given freely, he took it. He reminded her of some of her father’s business associates, and just looking at him made her skin crawl. 

The first day, he had stared at her blatantly, not even trying to hide the leering grin as he took in the soft skin exposed by her uniform. She had to resist using her hands to cover herself; she was Lucy Heartfilia, a mage of Fairytail, and she would not let anyone make her feel small. She had looked him straight back in the eye, her chin pushed out defiantly; that usually worked when she caught someone perving at her on a job, but this man was different. He seemed to take it as a personal challenge. 

Now every day he had grown more bold, touches on her hand and arm as she placed plates on the table, whispering his order to force her to lean forward a little so she could hear, saying things about her soft skin, her long legs, her golden hair. She could feel his eyes on her even as she waited on the other tables, and it made her feel vaguely dirtied, even though she had done nothing wrong. His friends seemed to encourage him, laughing yesterday when he had got a small squeak out of her when his hand had brushed the bare skin of her thigh in between her short skirt and thigh high stockings. 

She had almost decided to talk to Master about it but had decided against it. They only had two more days of this lunchtime shift left, and then they would be swapping to breakfasts. She could stick it out for two more days. And besides, they were in a crowded café, and Natsu was here with her. Nothing really bad could happen. 

She could feel Natsu’s eyes watching her as she carried the tray full of coffee over to the table of businessmen. His eyes made her feel the opposite of that creep’s. They were full of warmth and support. When he had spoken to her last night about his concerns, it was the happiest she had felt all week, knowing he was watching out for her. She held her head high as she approached the table of business men warily, a fake grin plastered on her face. This was their last order for the day, and then she wouldn’t have to come near their table again. And maybe they wouldn’t even be here tomorrow, seeing it was the weekend. This might be the last time she ever had to see him. She could do this. 

“A tall black for you, sir…”, she began, putting the first cup down, trying to stay as far out of hands reach as possible. The man in the pin-striped suit was behind her, and she wanted to get through this as fast as possible. She hadn’t counted on him grabbing her around the waist and pulling her sideways onto his lap, her back towards the rest of the cafe. 

“So, when do you get off work, sweet cheeks?” he said, one hand gripping her upper thigh, the other running lightly up the side of her breast and latching on to her upper arm. She gasped, struggling to get off his lap, while balancing a tray full of hot coffee in her hands. 

“Let go of me you creep!” she hissed, and was mortified when he pulled her closer, feeling his hard erection pushing up underneath the short skirt of her maid’s uniform. She balanced the tray on the edge of the table, holding it steady with one hand as she struggled to push the hand squeezing her thigh away with the other. 

“Don’t be so coy baby”, he breathed into her ear, as the other men on the table laughed. “You’ve been smiling at me all week, flaunting those tits and those creamy thighs of yours. How about we all meet up after work tonight. And wear your uniform. I’m sure we could come up with other services you could provide.” 

Lucy felt sick. Although she was pretty strong, she was having trouble getting out of this guy’s grasp, and the fact that his friends were laughing about her predicament made her feel even more unsafe. She didn’t want to cause a scene by using her magic. Her zodiac spirits were not known for their sense of restraint, and she didn’t want to damage the place, not when Fairytail was booked on a job here for the next three weeks. It was a chance for everyone in the guild to be doing well-paid safe work, and she didn’t want to jeopardise that. 

She could feel her keys pulsing against her hip, Loke’s especially, and she pushed back against his gate with every ounce of will she could. She could call Natsu or Erza over, but they would probably be worse than Loke. If she diffused the situation peacefully, there’d be no property damage, and no one from Fairytail would lose out. She tried speaking in a loud firm voice. 

“Please”, she said, pushing at his hand again, “I’m not enjoying this. I don’t feel comfortable when you touch me like that. I want you to let me go.” 

“Oh yeah baby?” he whispered with a leer, his mouth so close that his lips touched her neck. “What if I touched you like this?” She shuddered in revulsion as his hand suddenly slid under her skirt, and she let go of the tray, the hot coffee spilling all over her white stockings, burning her skin. She desperately tried to shift herself away from him, but his grasp on her upper arm was bruising, and he’d wrapped his legs around her calves, locking her in place. 

She felt bile rise up in her throat, her heart beating double time as she twisted, trying to get away from those groping fingers that had now slipped in the side of her panties. She wanted to Lucy kick him into oblivion, safe restaurant work be damned, but when his fingers groped and pushed in a place that no man had ever touched before, she froze. “Let me go”, she whimpered. 

A sudden aura of heat surrounded them. Lucy mentally sighed in relief. She had her back to whatever had the rest of the table gasping in sudden fear, but she would recognise that warmth anywhere. 

“Is there a problem here?” a stern female voice asked. 

Lucy was pushed unceremoniously to the hard wooden floor, half empty coffee cups clattering and breaking around her, and Natsu was instantly at her side. Lucy could feel heated rage pouring off him and she smelled a faint scent of singed cotton over the spilt coffee. She was amazed that he was actually keeping level headed enough to not be tearing the restaurant apart. 

He touched her arm gently. “Are you okay Luce?” his voice gravelly with barely controlled anger. She nodded, keeping her head down, and he helped her to her feet. 

“Natsu, take Lucy out to the kitchen and make sure she’s alright”, said Erza, her voice steely. “I’m just going to have a chat to these customers about Fairytail’s policies regarding respect of customer service personnel.” There was a bright flash of a summoning circle as she requipped into her Hearts Cruz armour. 

Natsu put one arm around Lucy’s shoulders and steered her around the tables full of customers craning their necks trying to work out what was going on, towards the kitchen. He paused for a moment to let the rest of the team know what had happened, his arm still curved protectively around her. 

Lucy’s head hung down, keeping her gaze on Natsu’s black shoes. It was so weird seeing him in lace up shoes. She wondered vaguely if they hurt his feet. The crackling sound of ice magic underpinned Natsu’s continual low growl as he told them his version of what had happened; Gray was obviously upset also. 

“Natsu, take her home. Team Shadowgear will be here any minute for the next shift, we can manage until then” Mira said softly. When Lucy looked up and began to protest, Mira came out from behind the bar to hug her gently. 

“Sweetheart it’s okay. I want you to go home, we can handle things here. Natsu will stay with you if that’s what you want, to make sure you feel safe.” 

Lucy’s brown eyes filled with tears, and her bottom lip trembled a little. “I’m sorry to cause such a bother Mira. I thought I could handle them, we were only on this shift for two more days. I didn’t expect any of them to get so…” She could see Gray and Happy looking at her in concern, and she suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. 

Mira smiled sadly. “Please don’t apologise. No one should expect that.” All five of them looked over towards the booth, where Erza, still wearing her armour, was leaning aggressively over the table, her gauntleted hands on her hips. They could hear a faint whimpering coming from the man who had molested Lucy, and Natsu suddenly sniggered. 

“Erza sure has a good imagination. I don’t think it’s even physically possible for a dick to do that.” 

“Oh my”, Mira smiled behind her hand. “I’d better go check on things to make sure she doesn’t take it too far. I’ll get the owner and Master down here straight away and we’ll sort this out. Take her home Natsu.” 

Natsu curled his arm around Lucy again. “Tell Master I’m happy to talk to him about what happened. I heard every single thing that sick fucker said today, and all the stuff he’s been saying earlier in the week.” Lucy shuddered against him, and he looked at her anxiously. They headed out through the kitchen to the staff entrance for the short walk back to Lucy’s apartment. 

Lucy was silent for the whole walk back, and it had Natsu unsettled. Usually when they walked, she was full of chatter, and though he didn’t always listen to every single word she said, he liked it. It was a friendly happy noise, one of the things that made up Lucy. She was quiet sometimes, but that was usually when she was thinking, sitting at her desk to write, and it didn’t have the same feel that this silence did. She still smelt of fear and panic. Even though he’d heard what was being said, he hadn’t been able to see exactly what was going on as Lucy’s back had been to him while he was looking for Erza. The words and the way the bastard had pulled her onto his lap and gripped her arm were bad enough. He wished he hadn’t restrained himself and had broken his nose. It would have made him feel a whole lot better, even though it would have caused trouble. They walked up the stairs and stopped in front of her door. 

“Lucy, do you want me to stay? If you’d rather be alone, I’d be happy to…” 

“I don’t want you to go”, said Lucy in a quiet flat voice. She got out her door key with trembling fingers, trying to make it fit in the lock, and startled when he took the key and opened the door himself for her. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Loke appeared in a bright flash of magic, his face frantic. 

“Lucy, why wouldn’t you let me through! I could have taken him out!” 

“Loke”, Lucy said softly, “I wasn’t sure you or the others would have been able to restrain yourselves; I could feel how angry you were.” She sighed, her eyes downward, avoiding Loke’s gaze. “Fairytail is working there for the next three weeks. It’s safe work for everyone, and it’s well paid. I didn’t want to take that away from everyone if we damaged the restaurant.” 

“Why on earth would that matter!?” said Loke, his tone angry. “It’s our purpose to protect you, our master, from all harm. What he did was…” Loke swallowed, pacing agitatedly around the coffee table. “Why wouldn’t you let us help you?” 

Until then, Natsu had been standing in the background, but listening to the conversation, he realised situation was a lot worse than he thought. The rage that had dulled to a dull simmer began to rise again, heat rolling off him. 

“Loke”, he rumbled, his voice dark with anger, “get your ass down there to the café. Mira was gonna call Gramps. I want you to tell him everything that happened. Every single thing that prick did, every time his filthy hands touched her.” At his words Lucy whimpered, and he smelt the tang of her tears. 

Loke looked back at Lucy uncertainly, before turning back to Natsu. “You promise you’ll take care of her?” 

“I promise. You know she’ll be safe with me.” 

Loke nodded, then disappeared in a shower of golden light. As soon as he was gone, Lucy’s legs folded under her, and she crumpled to the floor, sitting like a puppet with cut strings. After hesitating a moment, Natsu picked her up gently, and carried her over to the sofa, pulling away after placing her down. Her hands clutched at him. 

“I don’t want you to go”, she said in he same flat voice as before. Natsu nodded and sat beside her, his fists clenched, close by but not touching her. He wanted to hug her so badly, push away the stench of her fear combined with the scent of that bastard, and cover her with his own scent, but what he wanted wasn’t important right now. 

“I’m sorry”, said Lucy in a small voice. 

“Lucy”, he rumbled, “there is nothing at all that you need to apologise for. Nothing!” 

“I should have listened to you. Yesterday. When you said you wanted to tell Gramps. I thought about it, but I didn’t want to cause any trouble. I didn’t think he would try anything like that.” She looked up suddenly, her eyes wide with fear. 

“Oh gods Natsu, what if he… what if he finds out where I live? What if he followed me home? I couldn’t… I couldn’t bear…” Fat tears began to roll down her cheeks, her bottom lip trembling, and Natsu couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“Lucy, can I hug you? Please?” Lucy scooted over towards him, her arms open, and he picked her up and put her in his lap, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping his arms around her tightly. She curled herself up into a ball and began sobbing. He rocked her gently, trying to calm her. 

“It’s okay Luce, it’s okay. You’re safe here with me. I won’t let him near you again. If I even see him near you, I’ll incinerate him. You don’t have ta worry.” Lucy burrowed her face into his chest, her hot tears wetting is shirt, as he continued to rock her. All his protective feelings were roused, the urge to protect and soothe his precious girl, his partner and friend that he had gradually come to care for deeply, and a deep rumbling vibrated in his chest. He wished he had the courage to tell Lucy exactly how he felt about her, but this was not the time. For now, this was enough. 

“Natsu, are you purring?” whispered Lucy, her voice a little broken still from sobbing so hard. 

“Uh, yeah?” he said, feeling a little embarrassed. He had never made this sound when holding her before, not when she was awake, anyway. It was a private sound, one reserved for comforting a mate, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to have that conversation with her. 

“I like it”, she whispered, snuggling her face into his chest. The rumbling sound became louder, and she giggled a little, as Natsu rubbed his cheek into her hair, both of them in no hurry to move.

[btsfanmomma]

BTS as Disney Heroes

Okay y’all, I know this has been done before, but Disney is just as much a passion of mine is BTS, so I thought I’d try my hand at combining them. 

First, photo credit to BigHit and Dispatch, and Disney Character images to the incomparable Jirka Vinse Jonatan Väätäinen. All other photo manips by yours truly. 

Jin

Flynn Rider/Eugene Fitzherbert

Hot takes:

Jin and Flynn rhyme. I kid, but I just realized it when I started typing so it gets a mention.

Handsome is their brand.

But their exterior is nothing compared to their fluffy goodness inside. 

They work hard to be the best in their respective fields, even if Flynn’s is thieving and shenanigans.

Would fight a horse for your affection.

For Jin, I was torn between Prince Naveen and Flynn Rider. Both are handsome and they know it, but where Naveen is all Prince, Flynn is a little rogue and also a little Eugene Fitzherbert. Personally, aside from the visuals, Jin’s standout personality trait is his silly nature and penchant for Dad jokes, no matter how suave he is on the outside. This duality is perfect for Flynn/Eugene. They both appreciate the finer things in life, but not in entitled way, more in a “I know what’s like to go without the finer things and so I appreciate them when I have them” sort of way. Also, ya boy can sing. Also, smolder. 

RM

Milo Thatch

Hot takes:

They have brains and beauty.

They can both rock a tank top. 

Milo becomes the KING of Atlantis, so leadership runs in their veins. 

No judgement would date a woman who is older and more powerful. 

Glasses. That’s it, that’s the hot take.

RM and Milo both have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge (and I have an unquenchable thirst for them). Basically, RM just is Milo? Glasses, tank tops, giant brains and all. Milo is especially adept in languages and anthropology. Every time I see another picture of RM at a museum my choice is reaffirmed. Milo is also characterized by a deep sense of righteousness, expression, and knows how to hype a crowd. I vote Milo for most likely to speak at the UN (about Atlantean rights). 

J-Hope

Prince Phillip

Hot takes:

HOBI IS AN IRL DISNEY PRINCE AND I WILL FIGHT YOU ON THAT AND DIE ON THAT HILL. 

Can sing and dance and woo you in the space of a single song. 

100% capable of both falling off a horse and slaying a dragon, why would you even question that. 

Does not care for your royal traditions and will do as he pleases with a smile on his face and in his heart. 

I have definitely “walked” with Hobi once upon a dream. 

Disney Princes are kind of meh. I mean we build them up to be the male ideal, but mostly they’re kind of whiny and manipulative (I’m looking at you, Prince Eric). Prince Phillip is not your average Disney Prince. He’s okay being royal, but his royalty is second to his own dreams and desires. He was born into royalty and expectations, and he doesn’t whine or complain about it, he embraces it. Both Philip and Hobi are the embodiment of competence and capability. They are strong and soft, hard and delicate. I’ve always loved they way Philip was willing to throw everything away because he fell in love. This is traditionally the woman’s role in a fairy tale, and I feel like Prince Phillip, with his visual and performative duality, is more concerned with being true to himself than being what others think he should be. Also I’d put my money on it that they’re both very talented with their swords.

Suga

Kristoff

Hot takes

GRUMPY GRUMPS that still manage to be beloved by an entire clan of rock trolls. In Suga’s case, ARMY are the rock trolls. Own it.

Masters in their respective crafts (for Suga, this is music, obvs, for Kristoff this is… ice).

Can write songs and play instruments. 

Attracts opposing personalities, who find his innate grumpy stoicism endearing (think Anna, Sven, Olaf). 

Would ride through a blizzard like a valiant, pungent, reindeer king to save you. 

Suga is no fixer-upper, but this one came easily to me. The grumpy act is a front, and really they’re just keeping their cards close to their chest and waiting for the right hand. They’re both incredibly capable. I would 100% trust both of them to help me find my magical sister in a blizzard while climbing up a mountain and running from wolves but only after I’ve earned their respect. Kristoff’s ice-mining skills remind me a lot of Suga’s ability to turn music into gold, but they’re both very humble about it, which speaks to their absolute mastery. And I know I put it in the hot take, but they both absolutely attract happy, bubbly, adoring friends and fans with their stoic personalities.

Jimin

Aladdin

Hot takes:

ABS.

A deep and sometimes melancholy desire to be more than what they seem.

Wherever they are, whatever they are doing, whether that’s scaling the rooftops of Agrabah or training for a KPop band, they put all of their mentality and physicality into it. 

They’re both meant for more than what they started as. 

Did I mention abs?

Every animated Disney movie has an “I want” song. Most of the female characters get amazing “I want” moments (except for Ariel, girl needs to learn how to love herself), but men, even central characters, are often very shallow. Don’t get me wrong, Go the Distance is one of the best “I want” songs in the Disney library, but it doesn’t have half the earnestness and depth or emotionality of the One Jump Ahead Reprise. We all know that Jimin has been the most forthcoming about his struggle with accepting himself and developing his skills as an idol. I feel like no other Disney Hero captures the essence of his “I want” like Aladdin does.

V

Robin Hood

Hot takes:

One is a fox, the other is a literal fox.

Cunning and silly. Misschievous and chivalrous. Basically, duality. 

Willing to put autocratic authority in its place. 

Their smiles are strangely attractive. 

So inspirational that large followings of people are willing to follow them into danger.

Would absolutely steel from the rich and give to the poor when it’s the right thing to do.

This is partially about personality, but also partially about Tae’s sharp and handsome features that absolutely remind me of my weird attraction to Robin Hood. Although anyone’s physical attraction to Tae is definitely not weird because the man is a whole snack. I joke about Tae being chaotic neutral, but there’s no denying he has a deep sense of righteousness. He was willing to call Army out for the weird and sometimes hateful posts on Weverse, and 100% admire that he’s willing to stand-up to bullies. Robin Hood dons an absolutely ridiculous stork costume without blinking even if there are more dignified alternatives, because ultimately life’s about having fun and being weird, even when you’re basically starting a civil war.

Jungkook

Hercules

Hot takes:

The maknea of BTS vs. the maknea of Olympus. 

They both have an ernst, puppy-dog like desire just to Do Good. 

They both have an ernst, puppy-dog like desire to please their hyungs.

Into bodybuilding, but their physical strength is just an outward manifestation of their inner strength. 

Hands down would go to Hades, no questions asked, to save the one(s) he loves. 

This was another no-brainer. Both of these makeneas are ruled by their desire to please their elders, whether that’s Zeus and Phil or RM and Hobi. And really if young, awkward, but completely capable Hercules doesn’t remind you of baby, JK, get out of my house. They both bask in the admiration of their fans, but what’s really important to them is being accepted and loved by their close circle of friends and family. They are both incredibly loyal, almost to a fault, and were destined for greatness.

[leroyzboots]

just sum fever hcs

They for real met at a support group They just talked for hours every day until they eventually hooked up They love cuddling Taryn is kinda tall so he can just scoop Penny up and hold her He's a real grump at first Super reluctant But he eventually softens up, but only around Penny They have a garden Taryn will put flowers in her hair Penny: did you wash,,,the dishes Taryn: I thought..you wanted to do that Penny:*gritted teeth* y o u w e r e w r o n g But seriously they're really close Taryn hates his scars So sometimes Penny will just sit in his lap and run her fingers over them telling him how beautiful they are He cries with happiness every time penny is surprisingly stronk??? she just picks him up one day "how are you holding me" ">:D" He got her matching swords as an anniversary gift Taryn: don't fuck with us! Penny: we have the power of god and anime on our side! Kai: wait- Penny:*yelling* Loud Team Rocket vibes They really are prepare for trouble and make it double Taryn loves to carry her on his back (Angst time) Being the Master of Dreams, he can't always control his powers So he isolates himself whenever he has nightmares as to not hurt her And sometimes he will accidentally give Penny bad dreams And he didn't sleep for a week afterward (back to fluff) He fills Penny's dreams with big fluffy sheep Taryn:*walks into living room, fires gun blank* Penny: THIS IS WHY MOM DOESN'T FUCKING LOVE YOU matching pigtails!! There are times Taryn will tie her hair up with ribbons that match her eyes which he loves

[secretsantaforlucia]

Freakin’ Mistletoe

This is a SPN Secret Santa gift for @luciathewinchestergirl

I was planning a drabble (exactly 100 words) but it got out of hand and ended up exactly 1500 instead. And taking 3 days instead of a couple hours. 

Dear Lucia, I hope you like it. It’s a little bit CrackFic, and all in fun.

 After the SS reveal, I’m plan to add it to my AO3 account. 

No explicitly written relationships. I think. Hints of them, yeah, but I believe anyone should be able to read it without being offended or triggered.

(GIF is not mine, and added to catch the eye, and only slightly related to the story. A bit.)

Jack had been reading about Christmas traditions. This was pretty much his first Christmas, since the previous December, they’d all kinda been in A Bad Place and nobody’d had time to even acknowledge the holiday.

When Jack read something about mistletoe, he scurried down that rabbit hole and learned that not only was it tradition to kiss under the greenery, but that it had been used to ward off demons and evil spirits, once upon a time. And the source mentioned witchcraft. And he knew a witch personally, one he thought was nice, and had tried to save his life. So, of course, he called Rowena to ask her opinion on mistletoe.

Rowena being Rowena, and probably having Ulterior Motives as witches often do – even witches who are Trying to Reform and Do Good Things From Now On – played it up and encouraged Jack to hang mistletoe in every single doorway of the bunker, even those doorways which only opened upon a supply closet. She must have supplied the kid with piles of the plant as well as red velvet ribbon, because the bunker had a heck of a lot of doorways and archways, and a fancy-red-bowed bundle of the stuff was now hanging in EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. And after all of those were decorated, Jack had started hanging it in random places in the middle of rooms.

Rowena’s reasoning to Jack was, and I quote, “just for a wee bit of a backup, in case all of the Men of Letters’ fancy complicated warding fails. Besides….who doesn’t like a bit of kissing during the holidays!” Dean didn’t know what her game was, but he didn’t like it, and wanted to make that clear.

“I don’t know what her game is, but I’m tellin’ ya man…I don’t like it,” Dean shared with whoever was within earshot, once he found out what was with “all the freakin’ green stuff every freakin’ where” because, of course Jack told him everything that Rowena had said. Jack’s honest that way.

Sam, the complete nerd, actually had the nerve to jump on Jack & Rowena’s Bandwagon of Crazy and say the mistletoe wasn’t a bad idea.

“Y’know, it’s not a bad idea,” began Sam. “And besides, it’s festive.” The giant moose shrugged. “It won’t hurt anything, as long as nobody decides to taste it, and it’s potentially helpful against Evil.”

“Well, it didn’t keep Rowena out. Or that 10-foot-tall green monstrosity in the library,” Dean countered.

“Rowena isn’t evil anymore, Dean. She’s been very helpful and you know it. And that’s a Christmas tree. You even helped decorate it.” Dean’s moose of a brother reminded him. “I especially like the angel tree topper with Castiel’s face pasted on. Any idea where THAT came from?”

Dean studied the floor, feet shuffling, and pretended he wasn’t blushing. Sam pretended he wasn’t noticing. He cleared his throat and continued.

“And anyway, Dean — why are you being such a Grinch? You’re the one who was always all gung-ho about Christmas when we were kids. Even when we had no reason to celebrate, you were always trying to get me excited about it. Besides, Jack loves it, and you agreed: we should all try to make Christmas nice for him.”

“Shut up and pour the damn eggnog before Jody and the girls get here. And don’t skimp on the rum this time,” the older Winchester changed the subject abruptly. Dean grumped off in search of someone to agree with him. Good thing he didn’t hold his breath.

**********

In Dean’s opinion, Jack was totally outta his mind crazy about the whole mistletoe thing. He went a bit psycho with Kissing People – any people – anyone at all – under it. The Apocalypse World hunters had mostly relocated to places of their own by now, so there were only ever a few of them around at any given time, coming by to check in with Chief, or re-up their  supplies. Occasionally friends and fellow hunters they’d known forever stopped in. Whoever was there at any particular moment was apparently considered fair game by Jack. He’d taken to lurking in proximity of mistletoe, in hopes of jumping under the greenery just in time to meet someone under it. He’d flash them a huge smile and give ‘em a fast & friendly kiss on the cheek. Everyone just went along with it and laughed with Jack afterward. The kid’s joy was contagious.

During Jack’s first day of Decking the Halls, Jack surprised the crap outta Dean with a guerilla-attack mistletoe-kiss and garnered a “What the hell, kid?” in reaction. Jack’s crushed countenance while looking up at the mistletoe in confusion made Dean take a step back and apologize.  He’d then hugged Jack and given the boy a quick fatherly peck on the forehead . Heck, it wasn’t even as if there was anyone else around to see, so no big deal, right?

In the next few days, to his own amazement, Dean had started giving spontaneous Doorway-Bro-Hugs, and even the occasional Completely Manly and Not Girly at All kiss on the forehead to anyone who wasn’t eighteen feet tall. So, Sammy just got a lot of hugs. Who could even reach that forehead for a kiss, anyway?

When Dean hugged Cas for the third time, he quickly (but shyly) kissed the angel just above his left eye. Cas responded by “booping” Dean on the nose, grinning widely as he did. Dean turned as red as the bow on the mistletoe above them. After that, Dean went with just the hug, while Cas surreptitiously kissed him on his cheek, or ear, or his shoulder – wherever his mouth was closest to while Dean held him tight for another extended hug. If anyone noticed that Dean/Cas hugs lasted for a much longer time than anyone else’s, they said nothing. At least, not around Dean or Cas.

On one of the increasingly more frequent times when Rowena found a reason to be around, she seemed to always be passing through doorways at the same exact time as Sam or Cas with uncanny frequency. And of course, her kisses were smack on the mouth and somewhat...thorough. While Sam didn’t seem to mind her kisses AT ALL, Cas reverted to the Awkward Angel the Winchesters had first met, and usually took to standing in Dean’s personal space or hiding in a locked room whenever Rowena was in the bunker. The witch knew better than to attempt any such shenanigans with Dean.

Everyone who was around the Winchesters long enough had learned what a great cook Dean was. Of course, he made killer burgers and steaks, but after years of making do in motel kitchenettes just to keep Sammy and himself fed while Dad was hunting, Dean could work some serious mojo when he had a Real Kitchen. Those motels had never had an oven, so Dean had never learned to bake anything. Not even a freakin’ pie.

So, Dean decided that part of a “nice Christmas for Jack” should include a few kinds of made-from-scratch Christmas cookies and at least two kinds of pie. Because, PIE, am I right? Jack eagerly became Dean’s apprentice pastry chef as they learned together, researching Baking Basics and Christmas Cookie recipes, leaving the usual monster lore to Sam. Once Dean mastered pie crusts, there was no stopping him. In addition to the cookies, Dean produced a different kind of pie every day. There had never been so many sweets in the bunker at one time.

And where there are sweets, one should never be surprised to find a Trickster.

Two days before Christmas, Sam ran smack into Gabriel, who was coming out of the kitchen, his mouth full of Christmas cookies. Gabriel fumbled for a minute keep hold of the half-gone pecan pie in his hands. He’d clearly found the aerosol can of whipped cream in the fridge, as it was generously covered in perfect peaks of fluffiness.

“Hey, Samshine!” the Apparently Not Dead Archangel greeted with a snarky grin.

In the next moment, something rare occurred. Something rarer than resurrection of the dead, at least when Winchesters were concerned.

Sam Winchester was speechless for two entire minutes.

Then he began to sputter about “But You Died” and “I saw Michael kill you” and “Apocalypse World” before grabbing the short angel in a fierce hug, lifting him off his feet like he weighed nothing. “How are you here?”

Somehow the pie was still balanced in the archangel’s hand.

Smirking, Gabriel replied, “Hashtag Not Dead.”

Sam rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he set Gabe back on the floor. “Well. Obviously. But HOW? You died. In another dimension.”

“A trickster never tells, dude. Don’t look a gift archangel in the mouth,” Gabriel grinned.

He looked up as if only just now noticing the mistletoe above their heads.

The pecan pie dropped to the floor, somehow right-side up and intact, the whipped cream on top still looking perfect.

“Pucker up, Samsquatch.”

[justwritingscibbles]

Mistletoe Misunderstanding

Fic Request:  - Can you do like a fluffy prompt mistletoe with Anti or Mare? Please? Pretty please with a Darkiplier on top? *Does puppy dog eyes* 

- For the requests, you don’t have to of course, but maybe, just possibly, kiss under the mistletoe with Anti? Just sorta fluffish/flirty-ish. Bonus points if person lives in a cabin in the woods

(I’ma do Anti cause he needs a little lovin’ for Chistmas)

This Christmas was going to be simple and easy going, you promised yourself. As easy and simple as it could get with Anti accompanying you to the little cabin you were renting out for a few days.  Anti wasn’t all that excited about being in the woods. There would be electricity, but no TV (save for DVD’s) or computers or anything. He complained loudly that he would get easily bored, but tried to ignore him. He had been like this all month. A constant grump and stick-in-the-mud in the Septic House. And you thought getting him away from the other egos would help lift his mood. Get some time alone and without interruptions.  But his mood seemed to sour upon looking at the small wooden cabin nestled in amongst the trees.  “This is where we’re staying?” He asked, as if the thought was a bitter one.  “Um.. yeah. This is my family’s cabin. No one actually comes out here, though. It’s usually rented out to other people.” You explained cheerfully. Trying to keep your own mood from plummeting. You stopped the car and got out, shivering a little from the cool temperature outside the car. Anti didn’t seem bothered by it. He only stared up at the cabin with a distasteful gaze. And you could have sworn he muttered “this is a waste of time.” under his breath.  You hurriedly got your bags and went inside, watching Anti carefully as he took in the view of the decor. It wasn’t fancy, but neither was it bland. Paintings of forest scenes and waterfalls dotted the walls of the cabin. The lights flickered gently before coming to life, giving off a warm orange glow.  “Huh, someone must have come up to decorate the place.” You noted with surprise. Playing with a bit of tinsel on the fireplace fondly.  Anti still wore the same bored expression. But took it upon himself to fill the silence with music. He huffed a humorless laugh as carols started to play.  “Tacky. Rustic. Yes, babe, this is a definite luxury cabin.” He said sarcastically and you sighed heavily. Half glaring at him as you snatched your bag from his hand.  “If you don’t like it, you can go home then. Sorry I at least tried to make our first  Christmas a nice one.” You spat out the words before you could reign in your anger. Storming up the stairs to the master-bedroom. For days he’s been like this. Everything didn’t seem to be to his standards and he’d be ticked off by the smallest things. You weren’t even surprised when he didn’t follow you upstairs. No doubt he had actually left.  Maybe it was for the best. You did push him into coming. Basically cornered him and begged him to come. Had you been too forceful? 

“Hey (y/n), can you come downstairs?” You hard Anti call up. There was a short space of quiet before you heard a hesitant, “Please?”  You left your half unpacked bag to descend into the main area. The fire was roaring, the warmth from it made the room seem lighter. Candles were flickering along the window sill, giving off a sweet fragrance. And you couldn’t help but smile as Anti grinned at you from his position next to the Christmas tree. The lights flashing their varied colors in a slow frenzy pattern.  “I’m...sorry I’ve been a douche the past couple of days.” Anti said as you approached. “I just felt... I don’t know. Pressured? I don’t think that’s the right word, but anyway, with the holidays coming up the fuckwits back home kept annoying me with questions. Usually about you and me. And, since it was our first Christmas... I was sorta uncertain of what to do. And you know what I’m like when I get stressed.” Anti grinned sheepishly and snaked a hand into his coat, pulling out a terrible wrapped gift. He held it out to you and when you took it, he coughed awkwardly. “To be honest I think I’m doing this wrong, but... I’m kinda nervous for the holidays. It’s good to get out of the house for a bit.”  You were confused, but eagerly opened your present from him. You almost dropped it when your chest bounced with giggles. In between the red paper and a whole lot of tape, was a small branch of mistletoe. Anti watched you nervously and his eyebrows furrowed when you started laughing.  “Anti, this is adorable. But it’s not how mistletoe works.” You chuckled and Anti plucked the branch from your hands. Twirling it between his fingers.  “How does it work then?” He asked, and you nudged his hand so it was dangling above the two of you. It was then you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. One that Anti was not letting go quickly, and he chased your lips to prolong the touch. He was as gentle as always. His lips giving off a soft buzz that made your lips tingle whenever his tongue playfully tickled your lower lip. You felt him smile broadly. And you in return smiled as well. It wasn’t until you needed to breathe did he pull away. His arm, the one not holding the mistletoe, had snaked around your waist to pull you against him. Your hands pressed against his chest, enabling you to feel the always-too-quick heartbeat under his rib-cage.  “Like that.” You said breathlessly. “The pair have to be under the mistletoe for the kiss to start. Or walk under it at least.”  Anti nodded, chuckling softly as is eyes flickered over your head towards the doorway. His smile stretching as he leaned closer to brush his lips over yours again. Ever eager for the touch.  “Well, we walked under a branch at the door of the cabin. And considering you walked under it again coming in here, I think you owe me two more kisses.” You laughed and shrugged. Always happy to give the man some affection. He at least was in a better mood now.   

[justsomefrblog]

Meeting Friends

(Quick scene between Sampson and his ‘not’ friend Pan. Trying to get a feel of Sam and Pans dynamic as some important interactions and scenes are instigated by this report sam gives Pan. More lore to come eventually)

Deep in the forests surrounding the Sunbeam Ruins a single guardian slept restlessly. Curled up in the space between a few elder conifer trees he awoke irritably and with a start.

“Fucking hell.”

The deep rumbling annoyance in the dragons tone sent startled birds fleeing from their roosts in the trees above. He stood and plodded from the quickly lightening clearing, to the embrace of the shadowy tree line. As he settled back down in the shade of a massive conifer he huffed irritably. Sending a small spray of leaves and twigs asunder as he exhaled.

The imposing brown beast once again fell silent as the morning came in full swing. The birds as one seemed to launch into song greeting the sunlight of another day. While the disgruntled dragon silently cursed them and their happiness. And cursed the sun and moon and any star he could remember the name of while he was at it.

The chirping and singing of birds seemed to change pitch not long after sunrise. Excited and delighted birdsong filled the forest as the sound of soft paws in the distance came closer.

“HelloooOoo cuteness! Why yes your feathers look great today. Nonsense who told you that? Don’t you believe it for a moment your such a specimen! Look at those tail feathers. No really look at that blue! Have you truly seen another with such lovely blue feathers? I didn’t think so.”

Emerging into the clearing of sunlight was a tundra. Dressed in loose archers garb and a bow slung at his hip. He moved with confidence and a swagger that screamed of just how secure in himself he was. His impressive mane and fur were rich shades of green with splashes of gold interwoven in his mane. Flowers were weaved into the locks around his wings, intricate work that could only have been achieved by the small deft hands of a member of the beast clans. Had he not been striking up a conversation with the young Bluemoon Aviar on his shoulder the guardian may not have noticed the young tundra at all through the trees.

“No really, I’m being genuine I promise. Your really are a handsome lad. The ladies will not be able to resist this coming season I pRomISe Alright? If not I will let you sleep in my room all winter. That’s right. All winter. I’ll even make you a perch and everything.”

He was speaking animatedly with the familiar on his shoulder and swung his head and impressive set of antlers too and fro as he spoke.

“Now. Let me talk with Sampson a minute. Really you don’t see him? He’s right there.”

And the tundra swung a paw at the great behemoth of a guardian curled in the shadows. The Aviar cocked its head curiously and jumped when it realized what it was looking at. Clearly unsettled and startled the beast jumped about on the tundras shoulders looking uneasy.

“Oh knock it off”

The tundra laughed at his familiars discomfort and sat regally in the sunlight. Spreading his wings to absorb the sun as he did.

“Sampson buddy! How’s it going”

His cheery demeanor did nothing to lift the funk of Sampson’s mood. The great guardian slowly uncurled from the shadows and stepped into the clearing he had left not an hour earlier.

His great size made it almost laughable the Aviar on the tundras shoulder had not noticed him. Massive as he was the guardian was a master of stealth and camouflage. As his profession demanded it. Sampson was a scout and spy for his clan. Often undertaking missions into enemy territory to gather intelligence of the strength of their enemies. Often being paid under the table to carry out assassinations.

But that was a far more secretive affair. Only a select few knew he was a sell sword of that color. The tundra who had declared himself Sampson’s best friend was absolutely none the wiser to Sampson’s darker activities. And Sam intended to keep it that way.

Much as the tundra annoyed him endlessly. The company was a welcome reprieve from his self imposed isolation.

“Pan. What do you want now.”

Sampson’s tone was gruff and miserable. A permanent scowl on his face as he looked to his fluffy compatriot.

“Nothing! Just checking in on ya buddy!”

Pan cheerfully smiled up at the behemoth of a dragon. Pan was small for his species. And Sampson was one of the largest of his own mind respectively. Making the usual size difference between their breeds even more exaggerated.

With an annoyed sigh and roll of his eyes Sampson laid himself down in the clearing to speak with his friend on more even footing. He knew pan appreciated it when he didn’t speak down to him.

“Any news from the roads?”

Pans cheerful and friendly manner never ceased to annoy Sampson. It seemed to him the tundra was immune to unhappiness and strife. No matter what news Sampson had for him the tundra was unfazed. It got unnerving after a while. The latest depravities from the war fronts wore even on Sampson himself. He who was so accustomed to disaster at that point in his life, he simply couldn’t wrap his head around how easily the tundra took the worst news and let it slide from his shoulders like water off ducks feathers.

“The newest band to move in appears harmless enough. It’s some troupe of actors and thieves. Thinly veiled as some circus act. No circus passes through these roads without being absolutely lost. There’s nothing for miles. The road their on is heading towards the heart of the Sunbeam Ruins. Which again. Doesn’t add up. Why go perform for the ghosts of some derelict ancient city? They smell off. The whole lot. Something else is going on and I don’t like how their ring leader is treated as some spiritual priest. It makes me uneasy to even look at his cart. We should deploy a battalion to wipe them from Sorienth.”

After concluding his report Sampson watched for Pan’s reaction. The tundra looked thoughtful and took a long minute or so to consider Sam’s words. After some consideration the tundra spoke up.

“Now I trust your instincts explicitly Sam. But jumping to burning them and all they have to the ground seems far to drastic without proper proof of grevious misconduct. You and I both know you’ll never get the clearance from Xander on that.” He spoke evenly and as diplomatically as possible to his friend. Who still bristled with annoyance at knowing Pan was correct.

“Not if I acted alone.”

“How big is the caravan? Realistically speaking I don’t think you can single handedly take on more than 4. And that’s if they’re all Skydancers or Tundras.”

“The ring leader is a Ridgeback. But his followers are almost all smaller breeds. Skydancer’s, Coatl’s, Mirror’s, a few snappers.”

“Sounds like a sizable party.”

“Nothing I couldn’t take on with guerrilla warfare. It’ll be a war of attrition they’d lose if I play my cards right.”

Pan peered at Sampson concern etched on his features.

“Sam. In all honesty your jumping to the violent solution is…concerning. Why is this your solution?”

Pan offered his query as gently as possible to his imposing friend. The clear confusion and concern rubbed Sampson the wrong way. Who was Pan to question him on this. And to look so concerned on behalf of strangers?

“Half the females alone are the ringmasters wives. The treatment of their fellows is, deplorable at best. Trust me. From what I saw and heard. Half of them are wishing for the release of death”

He stated this bluntly. And with a cold hint of malice edging his tone. Pan instinctively moved back a step at how Sampson’s demeanor darkened.

Pan nodded in acknowledgment but hadn’t broken eye contact even as he had taken a step back.

“I still can’t agree with your proposed method. But that might be the detail the pushes Xander to approve of a strong handed solution. Let me speak with him on this before you make a move.”

Pans sure and confident response made Sam’s tail lash in annoyance. The fuzzy bastard was far more diplomatic and tactful about his solutions than Sam himself was. It annoyed him to no end he couldn’t simply go for the strong armed solution and instead had to go a more diplomatic route to appease his fellow clansmen.

“I’ll wait on a reply for a few days at best Pan. Don’t expect me to wait and watch that depraved caravan without acting for more than that. I will take matters into my own claws.”

“A few days is all I ever need Sam! I expected you to keep your word on this alright? Don’t go acting rashly. I’ll rally some support from the home front.”

Pans confident beaming smile accompanied his words. Sampson rolled his eyes disgustedly. He stood and spread his wings with a gentle shake. Blocking the sunlight with his them as he stretched casting the clearing in shadow for a moment before folding them at his sides again.

“Get on it then fuzz for brains. I’ve got other things to do.”

Sam glowered as he spoke hoping the tundra would take it as his cue to leave him alone. Pan, still beaming, waved a paw and sauntered into the trees in the direction of civilization. His Aviar cowering on his shoulder after having watched their entire exchange.

“What do you mean he’s not my friend? Oh hush up you know he loves me plenty I’m like, his best friend.” Pans voice was distant and soft but his tone was still as sure and confident as ever. Sampson rolled his eyes hearing him.

Best friend my left ass cheek.

He grumped a little more his mood was sour enough. He curled up in the shadows of the clearing yet again to settle in for some rest.

I’m nobody’s friend. Let alone best friend. Why does he insist on that shit. He’s a nuisance. A pain in the ass. Fuzzy little bastard.

We’re his final thoughts before drifting into a light slumber beneath the trees.