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formulapai · 4 months

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YOU’RE PURR-FECT FOR ME !

scenario: how some of the grid would deal with a cat-obsessed lover

warnings: cat scratches, blood due to scratches, biting, overall just kitty shenanigans

pai’s words: grew up surrounded by cats (and even now, meet Sushi my kitty baby and her VERY BIG FANGS in the first pic !) (she has a teeth condition so her fangs just grow and grow and we have to take her to the vet so they can trim them sksksksk still lives a wonderful life don’t worry) so i have a particular spot in my heart for them ��

MAX🍊

- CAT DAD

- jimmy and sassy are his little menaces and he never shuts up about them

- is very fond of all the cat memes you send him and saves them

- rolls his eyes when you nag at him for punishing the cats, even when they did something they definitely should get punished for (aka just max pointing an accusatory at them and slightly raising his voice)

- wheezed the first time you proposed a cats play date but soon realized you were serious and stopped

- knows he can always count on you to watch over his two menaces when he’s away and always makes sure to thank you profusely

- does the same for you when you’re away and sends you pictures and videos of your cats all day long, even FaceTiming you to show you the damages they decided to do to his apartment

- once you live together he has to physically stop you buying every cute cat furniture you see. no, you don’t need yet another litter box just because this one’s yellow with little flowers. no, your cat’s life won’t be drastically better if their food bowls are heart-shaped.

- in the end, he gives in and drives you to the store because he can’t resist you and your love for cats

ESTEBAN🍊

- sends you random cats pictures and caption them with “us ☺️”

- he sees a cat keychain while traveling? he buys it for you. a shirt with paw prints on it ? he buys it too. a box of cookies with the picture of a cat on it ? yeah, it’s going in his luggage too.

- brings treats for your kitties when he visits you and tells you about the searches he did before buying them

- responsible cat dad in law

- smiles SO BRIGHT when you send him videos of the little monsters before his races, it really pumps him up

- is the one sending you shopping ideas for cat furniture and gladly takes you to the store or orders for you

- posts them all over his social medias

- one time, one of your cats bit him pretty deep in the calf and he spent ten minutes trying to free his leg from the murder fangs

- never told you about it because 1) his pride suffered because of the fact that a CAT defeated him 2) he cares about Mr.Chonk and doesn’t want you punishing him

PIERRE🍊

- said many times that he much prefers dogs but deep down, he loves the balls of fur

- annoys them all the time and complains when his arms look like scratching posts

- gives them the dumbest nicknames and laughs his ass off when you complain about it

- the first thing he buys when he goes grocery shopping before coming to your place is cat food, so much that you have cupboards full of it but don’t have the heart to tell him as you know it’s his way of taking care of them

- your cats adore him when he’s not being a pain in their backside

- locks them out of the bedroom and makes fun of you for giving in and letting them inside after they meowed on the other side of the door

- scolds them like he’d scold kids and tells them off about their attitude when he notices their ears going on airplane mode, scolds you too when you take their side and coo at them

- sends you tiktoks about cat clothes and orders it because he knows the cats are going to hate it

- movie night turns into him cuddling “his babies” and leaving you sitting on the floor

OSCAR🍊

- grew up with dogs but is a cat person deep down

- snorts when you send him pics of your cats next to pics of him, or the “polite cat Oscar” memes you find on twitter

- never carries them in his arms because he knows they’ll gnaw on him so whenever he has to lift them off the kitchen counter, he puts his hands behind their front legs and lifts them “Simba-in-lion-king style” which has you wheezing

- sighs when he sees that you bought new cat trinkets

- he lets you change his phone screens and widgets to cat pictures and memes because you were bored and already did yours

- complains when you show him the matching pjs you bought with paw prints all over but you catch him wearing them in a FaceTime call

- you once played with your monsters and ended up with little drips of blood all over from scratches and bite marks (accidental, the monsters can get quite into the games) and he panicked

- you heard him scolding the cats after he cleaned you up and took a video of it. you still teases him about it sometimes

LANDO🍊

- is a dog person but also loves your hairy ankle biters

- asks max about how to woo your cats. max just makes fun of him and leaves him to suffer like a real bestie.

- whenever he opens your front door, he knows he has 0.2 seconds to enter and close it before they come running and try to get out. he once let them out and had to run after them in your building stairs

- loves to come up to them when they’re sleeping and pinch their belly to annoy them

- sends you pics of everything cat-related he sees when he travels, as well as pics of real cats

- his jpg account is filled with his little family (you and your cats) and their crimes (the bite marks adorning his legs and you laughing in the background)

- when you move together, the cats know exactly when he starts streaming and run to the room he’s in, causing ruckus and showing the viewers just how little power Lando has over the cuties

- he closes the door once but immediately opens it when he hears a loud thud, one of the cats running straight into the door because it’s never ever closed. the video of him crying in laughter on the floor as the kitty meows in annoyance gets all over social medias and everyone teases him about being a bad cat dad

- takes the tiny menace in his arms when he’s finally able to stop sobbing and shows everyone they’re fine

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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Heroes vs. Villains : The Staff [Part 3]

Platonic GN!Reader x NRC Staff vs. RSA Staff Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. NRC Staff Version (Part 3)

ie. Detention begins, and the topic of Winter Break plans comes into question.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

The first detention went about as well as you could have hoped.

You sorted paperwork, mindlessly graded the very same pop quizzes that had nearly given Deuce an aneurism just that morning, and shined all the stupid glassware that was needed to make all the stupid potions. It was grueling. And to think—you’d been doing this shit for fun not a month ago. What had been wrong with you?

“Maybe it was the Stockholm Syndrome,” you muttered irritably under your breath.

“What?”

“Nothing, sir,” you grumbled, and went back to organizing all of your tormentor’s seemingly endless collection of bits and bobs.

Professor Crewel looked over at you, his face twisted up like he wanted to say something. But after a moment of awkward silence, he just ducked his head back down to his paperwork and carried on without saying a thing.

The next afternoon didn’t look like it was shaping up to be much better. You shined, he scribbled, and you wished for nothing more than the sweet release of death. The quiet was disconcerting. Say what you will about all the time you’d spent holed up in this office before The Incident, but ‘silence’ had never been an issue. Even Crewel’s snide little barbs would be better than this—this nothingness.

‘You’re not even worth insulting anymore,’ your brain supplied helpfully. ‘Wow. Isn’t that a trip?’

“Are you almost finished?”

You startled a bit. It was the first full sentence he’d spoken to you all day. You glanced pointedly from him, to the walls upon walls of vials, and then back.

“No, sir.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, like this entire situation was just all sorts of unpleasant for him. And not like, you know, he’d been the one to lock you into the school equivalent of prison labor for the next four weeks.

He closed the ledger he was working on with a pointed snap and stood from his chair with a grand swirl of his fur coat.

“You can be finished for the day,” he said, leaning forward to rifle around in the top drawer of his desk. “It’s already late, and you should start making your way back to your dorm before it gets too dark.”

You fought and won against the intense to desire to roll your eyes. The path back to Ramshackle was no easier to traverse in the black of night than it was in the bright light of the afternoon. And besides, it’s not like you were particularly worried about anything happening to you out there. The monsters at this school prowled its halls no matter the time of day. If anything, nighttime meant less potentially murderous magicians out on the loose. No one but you was stupid enough to try and go toe-to-toe with a wandering Tsunotarou.

“And take these with you.”

You startled once more as something was pressed into your hands. It was a familiar box—sleek and artfully colored with matte backgrounds and swirls of golden lettering etched across its face. These were the fancy cookies.

Thankfully, the spite in your belly was enough to gobble up whatever lingering love you had for the treats. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself when you passed them back to Professor Crewel with a tight smile.

“Thank you,” you said, pointedly reaching into your own backpack to procure a nearly wrapped pouch of Annie’s homemade pastries. “But I’m all set.”

His dark eyes lingered on your stash of chocolate chip cookies in a way that made you think he was going to demand you throw them away, and maybe start ranting hypocritically about the dangers of bringing food of any kind into an alchemical lab. His jaw ticked and you had the distinct impression that he was grinding his teeth.

Instead, Professor Crewel just sighed and returned the treats to his desk drawer.

“Of course,” he huffed, looking a bit dejected, and collapsed back into his chair without his usual elegance. Huh. Maybe you’d just foiled his plans to try and poison you or something. “Good evening, Prefect.”

The next afternoon, he did not mention the cookies. However, on your way out the door at the end of the night, you noticed that he’d placed the box near the coatrack—not quite on top of your belongings, but close enough.

And then it was there again the night after that.

And then again, and again.

“How’s the internment going?”

You heard a dull thwack and some angry shushing. Mister Rogerson’s laughter was muffled through the phone’s speaker, and you had a feeling that Annie had just tried to beat him with her shoe.

“It’s alright,” you snickered into your hand. “Prison is prison.”

“You know,” Mister Rogerson huffed. “I still say all of this is horribly unfair.”

You shrugged, and then remembered he couldn’t very well see that through a phone call, and sighed. “It could be worse.”

“Could it?” he asked, a clear frown in his voice.

You dutifully did not mention anything about Overblots and just sighed again. “I mean, probably.”

There was a bit of a scuffle on the other end and you heard little snippets of Annie’s kind trill. There was more laughter. It sounded warm—cozy. You glanced around at the grey, soot-stained walls of Ramshackle and tried not to feel sorry for yourself. Grim rolled over in his sleep and burrowed into your hip with a contented little mewl, which did help a bit.

“Annie wants to know if you got her care package,” Mister Rogerson said after a moment, sounding a bit like he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him. “And if you’ve thought at all about our offer to host you over the winter holidays.”

“I did, thank you,” you smiled. “It was all delicious.”

“And the break?” he asked after a moment.

“Crowley sent me some angry letter about taking care of the fairies that live in the kitchen stoves,” you said. “So I’ll have to see about that.”

“Just keep it in mind,” Mister Rogerson pressed, a bit of concern slipping into his otherwise laidback drawl. “Please?”

“Okay,” you smiled, feeling like you’d managed to steal a bit of that bubbly glow of theirs and tuck it away tight enough that even the chilly shadows of your new home wouldn’t be able to taint it. “I will.”

“Take care of the fairies in the boiler?”

“Yes,” said Crowley, with deadpan sincerity.

The other members of the staff looked on in silence—a lovely range of ‘fed up’ to ‘outright contempt’ twisting their faces.

“Well I thought it was an excellent idea,” he huffed, crossing his arms petulantly over his chest.

“No wonder this child hates you,” Trein hissed under his breath and worked his fingers into his temples like maybe if he drilled hard enough he could kill the Crowley-Induced-Migraine before it began.

The Old Crow gasped.

“How dare you—”

“And you,” Trein interrupted, turning on Crewel with a sneer. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish with any of this, Divus? An entire month’s worth of disciplinary action for one infarction? I thought you were better than, well,” a pointed glower at the raving Headmaster who was nearly collapsed in tears before them, “that.”

Crewel’s lips curled into a bitter snarl, but the aging historian before him was far from cowed.

“That’s none of your concern,” he snapped. “This is a matter between the Prefect and I, and their willful disobedience when it comes to following the rules of this institution.”

“Is that so,” Trein hummed, arching a brow in obvious skepticism. “But then again, what would I know anything about raising unruly children? I only have two lovely, successful, daughters of my own. Remind me, when was the last time you allotted even an ounce of affection to anything that wasn’t one of your purebred mongrels? Or your own ego?”

Crewel stepped forward with a scowl that was more a restrained baring of teeth.

“That has nothing to do with anything,” he sneered.

“Say what you will,” Mozus Trein tutted, and glared down his nose at the pair of them—Crewel with his poorly cloaked rage and Crowley who still refused to stop wailing about the injustices of it all. “But both of my children will be coming home for the holidays. Voluntarily.”

“Oooh,” Sam trilled, uncurling himself from the shadows for the first time all afternoon. “Get ‘em, Mozus.”

You ended up staying at Ramshackle over the break, if only because you couldn’t tell at this point if ‘oven fairies’ were a real thing, and if they were and they did starve, you’d feel absolutely terrible. Your rap sheet in this word was already a mile long—you didn’t need to add homicide to the list.

And then, of course, you ended up being kidnapped by Jamil and his smooth-talking self not a day in, so your act of goodwill really was all for naught.

You paced around your luxurious little guestroom cell, phone in hand. There wasn’t a lot of charge left on it, but you definitely had enough to make a call or two. Mister Rogerson would come help you, you knew he would. But… the problem was that you were kind of becoming a Blot expert at this point, and from the looks of things, Jamil Viper was about to go apeshit and melt into Enraged Ink Monster Number Four. Sure, the guy may have kidnapped you. But he also made great curry, and really didn’t seem that bad underneath it all. Just... quiet. And fed up with living a life of forced servitude and mediocrity. Which, y’know, totally fair.

You paced and paced.

“They have to be reported to the proper authorities,” Mister Rogerson had said. “And dealt with accordingly.”

“They’d be taken away?” you’d whispered.

“I know it sounds scary, kiddo. But that’s what we have to do to keep everyone as safe as we can.”

You grit your teeth and called Ace and Deuce instead.

They were immediately no help at all and Jamil ended up Overblotting anyways.

“Y’know,” Grim grouched, shivering into your side after Evil Jamil had yeeted you off into The Unknown and Freezing Corners of Sandy Hell. “You really should start charging for these things. We could probably make a lot of money or something.”

“That’s a great idea,” Azul nodded along, and you wanted to beat the shit out of them both.

In the end, you saved the day. As usual.

Jamil was de-inked. He was still a miserable wad of repressed hatred, but at least he was being open about it now. Everyone was alive. Azul promised to only bill you his usual rate for assistance rather than the holiday upcharge. Kalim held a feast, as per usual. And Ace and Deuce showed up at the tail end of it all, which was incredibly sweet of them and also on track with their usual brand of stupidity.

Everything had turned out great!

Except…

“How was your break?” Mister Rogerson asked. “We missed you over here!”

“It was great,” you lied, images of black tar running from narrowed eyes and the suffocating sensation of dark magic flooding your throat. “It was great.”

You walked into detention on Monday afternoon feeling like shit warmed over. And looking like it too, you would guess, seeing the way Crewel’s eyebrows shot all the way up his forehead.

You stayed silent throughout the whole thing, quietly sorting bottles and blends, and trying to keep your mind off the fact that you had very nearly died. Again. You could feel Crewel’s eyes on you throughout the entire ordeal, tracking you in a way that reminded you of someone watching a car crash that they just couldn’t quite force themselves to look away from.

“Prefect,” he called as your were half-way through shrugging on your coat at the end of the evening.

“Yes, sir?” you sighed, not even bothering to look up from the floor.

He was silent for one moment, two, three.

“…Get some rest tonight,” he ordered. It sounded like a cop out—like he’d wanted to say something else but hadn’t had the words for it.

You sighed again, bone deep and weary. “Yes, sir.”

You did not, in fact, rest that night. A horrible cocktail of nightmares tugged at your brain from dusk ‘til dawn, and you woke up feeling worse than you had when you’d gone to sleep.

You barely forced yourself to go to detention, and only because you knew it would only get worse if you tried to skip out. However, when the door to Crewel’s office creaked open, you were not met by a head of neatly dyed black-and-white hair, but a yowling mass of flying fur and limbs that immediately sent you sprawling to the floor.

Jasper and Badun yelped and cried in the ways that all excited dogs cry, and laved your face with so many kisses you couldn’t have counted them even if you tried. Your hands went into their soft scruffs on instinct, and you had to fight valiantly not to burst into tears.

There was a hand at your back then, urging you towards the comfy, plush, chair that you’d once called yours. You plopped gracelessly against the opulent cushions, and the pair of delighted dogs quickly bounded up to join you—squishing their too-large bodies into your lap and across the armrests. The duo buried their noses into your shoulder, your hip, any nook and cranny they could reach. And you felt warm for the first time since the holidays.

When you woke up later (hours? Days? You couldn’t tell), you and Jasper and Badun were all still bundled together in that chair—the three of you tucked in gently beneath the soft furs of a very familiar black and white coat.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

@juulranch @thenyxsky @kalims @theneurodivergentdummy @pen-observing @afternoon-read @ai-dev @anasianplate @marvelous-maxi @inkkedreamz @honey-deerling @fabitheraven @rebloging-everything @vasiliki-koshka @cassidycampfire @youaskedfurret @asimpleazur @iwannabeacrow @hatsunemiku2025 @ambievert @clappincobracheeks @horcrux-alchemist @crypticbibliophile @nyotnyota @ally-glow @yourimaginaryfriiendd @hamdehlesmis @scarapeep @https-casanova @niki-chan15 @insomnia-space @rabioa @ailynyan @posionapplecider @5sos-wdw @nightskylark @the-dumber-scaramouche @sxftiebee @stingywiththeirusername @peachy-centipede @da-disappointment @nekogal16 @zero-nightshade @duskimoo @queenaveryrules @mys-harmony @cerisescherries / @existingcurrently @littlemusicfox25 @spaceyrunes @un-petit-peu-confused @destinationdesignation @medleycharm @chocolateduckdinosaur @barryatsumu @ttwinrytwo @cerisescherries @imaginedfantasies @whathappenedtobees @trixeraptops @obaniori @cleos-stuff @thededly2 @fuckingfaraway @kttyfngs @ernavielle

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #My Writing #NRC Staff #NRC Staff x Reader #Divus Crewel x Reader #Dire Crowley x Reader #The NRC Staff's Horrible Parenting #But maybe getting a lil better #Heroes vs. Villains #Crewel x Reader #twisted wonderland OCs #twst ocs #Divus Crewel #Dire Crowley #Heroes vs Villains The NRC Staff Part 3

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u-hadme-atmoonpie · 9 months

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Is my person ever going to be done working???

#moonpie #tuxedo cat #tuxedo cats #tuxie #meow #moon pie #floof #cutest cat ever #cookie monster fur #flat cat #too hot hot damn #too hot to do anything #impatient cat #feed me #feed me seymour #wfhlife #wfh #summer cat #tiki

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cornkernelcorp · 3 months

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THE GIANT OTTER LONG POST --------------------------------------

A bunch of lore and art for Otto, and his past as a monster hunter of the Mustelid Guild. He is from a long bloodline of Giant Otters, which grow much larger than the average cookie.

He initially wasn't a monster hunter at all. For most of his early adult life, he lived in solitude on his own boat. A cookie with a deep love of the sea and it's riches. Thanked her for all of his catches, and it's welcoming depths. He had his first encounter with a monster during a fishing trip, and had successfully killed it. Not wanting to waste the living being, he took what he could from it and cooked it. Then, it all clicked, and his exotic tastes came to be. He continued to hunt monsters to cook, looking for new ways to eat and process them as he went along. The Mustelid Guild saw him and his thick durable fur as an asset, and offered him a membership. He was able to sell the non-edible parts of his catches to them for a profit, and so he accepted. His main weapon is a collection of rocks (different kinds, illustration shows one type) that he uses to bludgeon and break thick skin and armor.

Any dough underneath that fur was either calloused or highly scarred, the nastiest one being on his back. It was from the only sea creature he was hurt by, who still continues to lurk under the waves to this day. It's acidic fluids burnt all the hair on his behind. He takes pride in his cooking and creating dishes from sea beasts. It's the thing he talks about the most to cookies. Ask him to feed you, and he will gladly give you a sharing.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Now that we're familiar with Otto, I can share the most exciting part of his past. He has connections with Ventresca, who turned out to be a next-generation monster hunter. (owned by @limboraptor)

Ventresca used to live in the Lower City of the Crème Republic, fighting to survive in an impoverished community. He always wanted to be a monster hunter, and at some point met Otto.

Despite Otto's initial annoyance at the young cookie, he eventually ends up mentoring him and taking him under his wing. Teaching all that he could. When Ventresca was older and Otter had retired, he passed down his harpoon gun. "Tin Cannon" or "Metal Canary", known for it's quick piercing shot.

Now as an old man, he doesn't hunt monsters on his own. Instead, he owns the Crab Claw and is an active buyer and manufacturer for all things monster-product related from food to tools. It's a good excuse to see his fry, too, since he buys what he uses from active monster hunters.

#aaand thats about it #wipes my forehead #phew #ill draw him and ventresca in the present later on #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run oc #crk #crk oc #cookie run fanart #my art #crk fanart #my oc #giant otter cookie #ventresca cookie #captain bigeye cookie #cookie oc

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the-likeable-wizard-mack · 5 months

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Modern Fantasy Monsters: Holiday themed

Take care of the small fae that live in your garden during the winter months by giving offerings of small fabrics that they can use for blankets or small warm drinks for them so they won't freeze.

Werewolf cuddle piles during the winter, just imagine in the middle of a pack of werewolves cuddling up together using their fur and body heat to keep warm. Werewolf children also get in the pile maybe kicking a parent or sibling in the face while sleeping.

Vampires who THRIVE in the winter months not having to hide in their house. Cold weather? Cloudy skies? No sun??? They are absolutely loving it.

Dragons who lend their cave to very close friends as warmth. They would "hoard" their friends into a huddle.

Centaurs who take jobs during the winter as carriage horses becoming sort of tour guides around the city.

Sirens who sing beautiful Christmas songs bringing everyone in the holiday spirit.

Special magical holiday food and drinks served at coffee shops. (i.e peppermint hot chocolate with winter sprite sparkles or snowman cookies made with edible sweet snow and enchanted icing)

Having a cozy night in with Hobbits/ Halflings serving a grand Christmas/Holiday meal. A party full of good food and friends all around enjoying each others company.

Happy Holidays Everyone!! The wizard loves you all and would like to thank you for all of your support! 🧙🏾

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quickspinner · 5 months

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Substitute Santa

For @verfound, queen of hilarious prompts, as part of the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Secret Santa.

Her prompt was: Jagged Stone is Santa Claus. However you want to interpret this: Jagged is literally Santa and Luka is his son (a la Hallmark "find a Mrs. Clause for Christmas"). Jagged is dressed up as Santa for an event/Because Jagged. Luka caught Jagged dressed as Santa as a kid and now firmly believes it (Jagged snuck in with gifts for his kids? Last Christmas before Jagged left? Party Anarka drug him to?).

So here we go!

Luka was not pleased at the best of times to be called out of the workshop, up to his father’s “office” (he would have said playground, but it made Penny frown at him). But to be called up today, of all days?

This really can’t be good , he thought, sighing through his nose as he climbed the spiraling stairs.

He didn’t bother to knock, since knocking could almost never be heard over the racket of the workshop below and Jagged’s own…extraness. When he walked in, though, he blinked in mild surprise. The iconic red suit with white fur lining was missing, as was Jagged’s usual ebullient attitude. Normally Jagged was bouncing off the walls on Christmas Eve, ready to rock his way around the world while his cool but stressed assistant tried desperately not to lose her lunch in the passenger seat of the sleigh.

Tonight, though, Jagged was sprawled with his long legs hanging over the overstuffed armchair that they normally only used for photo ops, wearing his favorite purple striped pajamas instead of The Suit.

Luka turned and almost walked right back out again, but Penny and her clipboard had somehow appeared behind him, blocking the exit.

“No,” Luka said to her, but to his annoyance, it was pleading rather than firm.

Jagged let out a concussive sneeze that shook all the knicknacks in the room, and blew his nose like a trumpet before pointing a woeful glance at his son.Luka knew exactly what it would look like, though he refused to turn around to confirm.

“No,” Luka—whined. He was whining. He was man enough to admit it. “No way.” He pointed an accusing finger at his father. “Santa Claus does not get sick on Christmas. There’s gotta be magic or a—a rule or something.”

“There is a rule,” Penny said stiffly behind him, and Luka jumped a little, moving inadvertently further into the room. Penny stepped after him, shutting the door behind her. “The rule is you , Santa Junior.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Penny…” he whined again, and Penny rolled her eyes. Jagged sneezed again and moaned pathetically.

“Oh, grow up,” Penny snapped irritably, and Luka actually wasn’t sure which one of them she was talking to. She stalked over to the wardrobe and yanked it open. “I don’t have time for your bullshit today.” She pulled the red coat out and turned towards Luka, holding it out.

“Now?” Luka switched tactics. “I haven’t even had dinner yet?”

“Then you should have plenty of room for cookies,” Penny replied, unsympathetic. “Now shut up and get dressed. I’ve assigned you an assistant and she’ll be here any minute.”

Worse and worse. “You’re not coming with me?” Luka asked, accepting the inevitable with the coat.

“I’ve been exposed,” she replied, throwing a dark look at Jagged. “Some of us can handle illness without being reduced to invalids.” She looked back at Luka, and suddenly he could see the tiredness in her expression and the tightness around her slightly watery eyes. “Still, I have a monster headache and I’m going straight to bed once your butt is in the sleigh.”

“Right,” Luka sighed, slipping on the coat. “Sorry, Penny. I know this sucks.”

She acknowledged it with a nod. “I know you don’t want to do this, but it’s got to get done.”

Luka nodded morosely. It was a responsibility he accepted when he came to live with his dad, although he’d been more interested in the workshop than the top job. He’d spent the whole year building instruments for tonight (and being teased about his slow, methodical way of working), and he wasn’t about to let all that work go to waste just because his dad was a dramatic whiny baby.

Not to mention an entire world full of kids who would wake up disappointed on Christmas morning if he didn’t step up.

He swallowed any further whining objections and pulled on the stupid fluffy red pants with nothing more than a long-suffering sigh.

“You’re so his son,” Penny muttered, and Luka gave her a pouty look that did nothing to disprove her statement. It turned even more mulish as she held out the boots.

“Do I have to?”

“You know you do. You’ll trip in those things anyway. They don’t have enough heel to keep the pants off the ground.”

Luka kicked off his shoes without further complaint and put on the stupid boring black boots. He even tied the laces when Penny continued to glare at him. The boots adjusted to fit his feet. At least the vaunted North Pole magic was good for something. The suit shrank a little as well to fit him. Luka took the hat from Penny and stuffed it in his pocket. He’d have to wear it, or the glamor wouldn’t kick on, the one that made him look like viewer expected - chubby and white-bearded, the usual thing.

“I really don’t know what I’m doing,” he warned Penny. “I mean, I can drive the sleigh and stuff but—” She was already waving him off.

“All you have to do is drive and drop the presents. I went over the route and double-checked the lists with Marinette this morning; she’s very organized. Although,” she added, looking up at the clock above the ostentatious mantlepiece, “punctuality has never been her strong point. Make sure you stay on schedule.”

“Yeah, okay—wait, Marinette?” Luka looked up sharply, fixing his eyes on Penny and feeling his stomach flip. “The one that works in the fashion design department?” The one that he seemed to bump into far too often coming into and out of this office, often literally. Jagged gushed about her every time, delighted to have secured such a talented and creative person for his workshop. If there was one thing you could say about Jagged—well, it was that he really enjoyed being revered and loved by all the children of the world, which translated to wanting the best to come out of his workshop so that those children kept adoring him.

He sighed to himself. Even a substitute Santa probably shouldn’t be such a cynic. And Marinette—

If there was another thing you could say about Jagged, it was that he was not at all subtle, and Luka was mortally convinced that his frequent brushes with Marinette in this office were intentional. He should have been doing everything in his power to dodge her, but…

Just then, she barreled in through the door, and his mouth went dry and his breathing quickened. She was flushed from the run up the stairs, eyes bright and eager, and she tripped over her words as she apologized profusely to Penny. She had a tablet tucked under her arm and she was wearing the traditional elf uniform, green with striped stockings and a silly belled hat perched between her pigtails.

She was stupid cute and he felt like his brain was leaking out of his ears even before she turned to smile at him, clearly nervous but also excited. He couldn’t help but smile back.

Before they could say anything, though, Jagged groaned loudly, and Luka just caught Marinette’s arm before she rushed to the poor invalid’s side. “Don’t get too close,” he warned darkly, and winced when she turned wide eyes on him. “I don’t want you getting sick too,” he added quickly, dropping her arm. He felt like an idiot but the look she turned on him was grateful.

“You’re so right, I wouldn’t want to spread anything to the children.” She returned a sympathetic smile to the pitiful look Jagged gave her. “You stay home and rest. Don’t worry about a thing. Luka and I have got this!” She pumped a fist in the air, and Jagged threw her a goat and a grin that actually seemed genuine, and genuinely tired. Luka felt a tiny stab of sympathy, but it disappeared when Jagged blew Marinette a kiss and hoarsely told her she was the best, adding, “Keep the kid out of trouble!”

“Right!” Marinette grinned. Then she turned to Luka and his stomach did that weird flip thing again as her eyes darted over him. “Shall we go?” she said, checking her tablet. “I’ve got our schedule and route all worked out and when I stopped by the stable, they were just finishing up loading. Do you have your hat?”

Luka pulled it from his pocket and waved it, and her smile brightened, making his knees weak. “Lead the way,” he managed to get out, and when she turned he followed right behind her.

Penny whispered, “You can thank me later,” while he passed, and he nearly tripped on his own feet.

Fortunately, his face cooled by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, so he hopefully didn’t look any more like a tomato than the suit already suggested when Marinette turned to him.

“All right,” she grinned at him, linking her arm through his. “Let’s go save Christmas!”

He let her tug him towards the stable, chuckling a little at her enthusiasm. Well, if he had to do this, there was no point in sulking the whole time, right? It was just one night.

Marinette was a whirlwind, checking the packing, checking the harnessing, giving firm but polite directions when she found anything amiss. Luka wasn’t really sure what to do with himself, so he climbed into the sleigh and waited, until Marinette bounced up into the seat beside him.

“I’ve always wanted to ride this,” she confessed, flashing a grin at him. “This is so amazing. Ready when you are, Santa.”

“Luka,” he corrected automatically, but he was smiling as he picked up the reins. He couldn’t help it. “Hold on,” he said without thinking, and suddenly Marinette was pressed tight against his side, both her arms wound around his right arm.

“Can you move okay?” she asked, looking up at him. “There’s not much else to hold on to,” she added, blushing, and he realized he was staring at her.

“Oh—yeah, sure, you’re fine,” he said, and flapped the reins with a little more force than was wise.

He had to admit, as the reindeer started off, gliding across the snow faster and faster before lifting sharply into the air—the sleigh was a rush. He couldn’t help laughing for pure joy at the swooping feeling in his stomach and the sudden surge of adrenaline. Marinette squealed a bit as they came off the ground. She sounded more excited than terrified but he risked a glance at her to make sure she was okay, and saw her grin in a flash of the bouncing lamplight.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she said again, letting go of his arm and sliding over a little bit as they leveled out.

Luka grinned. “Well, we’ll get to do it a few thousand more times.”

“Right,” Marinette said, pulling up her tablet, suddenly all business. Well, that was understandable, but it did kill Luka’s good mood a little. Right. It’s not like he was taking her out for a joyride—or a date.

He really wished he could, though. He’d run into Marinette half a dozen times, but always with Jagged in near proximity, which didn’t exactly bring out the best in Luka. She’d caught his eye every time, but he’d never managed to be walking out of Jagged’s office at the same time, and once he was back in the workshop with his tools in his hands, he tended to forget anything except the vision he had in mind. Luka wished now he’d been a bit more proactive. He could have come up with some excuse to visit her department if he’d thought about it. If only Jagged weren’t so damn pushy, then maybe…

Before he could get too far down that train of thought, it was time for the work to begin, and Luka didn’t have much time to think of anything except getting in, leaving presents, and getting out. Marinette was a good assistant, and everything he needed was right to hand when he needed it. They made a good team. Luka made sure to bring some of the best cookies back to the sleigh for her, to show his appreciation. He loved Penny but Marinette was a lot more fun—especially since Penny got horribly motion sick in the sleigh. He didn’t know how she managed the trip every year, but he supposed someone had to keep Jagged in line.

“Oh, these are good,” Marinette said, as they sailed between towns. Luka glanced at her and saw that she had a molasses cookie in her hand.

“They were,” he agreed.

“My parents own a bakery,” she said, taking another bite. “These remind me of home.” She giggled. “Who would have thought when I was putting out cookies as a little girl that I’d end up actually working in Santa’s workshop?”

Luka chuckled. “I bet you were adorable. I can just see you in fuzzy pajamas, arranging the cookies and worrying about whether Santa has food allergies.”

Marinette barked a surprised laugh. “It’s like you know me,” she said, putting a hand over her mouth as she tried not to choke on her cookie.

Luka grinned. “Maybe not yet, but I feel like I’m getting there.” He winked at her, and she blushed, and he grinned all the way to Budapest.

Luka had no idea how the Christmas magic worked, only that it messed with time, so that Santa could make it everywhere that welcomed him before daylight. When Marinette announced happily that they were running ahead of schedule, though, he had an idea.

“Do you think we can squeeze out fifteen minutes or so before we get to Paris?” he asked. “There’s someone I’d like to stop and see.”

Marinette frowned. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Nah,” Luka chuckled. “She already knows all the secrets. I just want to stop and say hello.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, her tone a little strained. “Well, okay…I think we can probably make that happen, if you don’t mind eating your cookies on the go.”

“I think I can manage.”

Landing reindeer on a boat was a no-go, so Luka left the sleigh nearby, hopefully out of sight. He turned and offered Marinette his hand to help her down.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude—” she began, but Luka snorted.

“You won’t be, trust me. You ought to get out and stretch your legs, anyway.”

She let him take her hand and pull her down from the sleigh, though she still looked a little unsure. He kept her hand as he pulled her gently along behind him towards the boat at the dock. The garish paint job was masked by thick swags of twinkling multicolored lights that seemed to dance when they reflected on the water.

When they were standing on the deck, Luka let out a loud “HO HO HO,” in a credible imitation of Jagged’s voice.

There was a thundering sound from inside the boat, and an older woman popped out of the door, scowling.

“What did I tell ya about showin’ up on my boat you old—” Luka pulled off his hat, and she stopped her tirade, blinking, as Luka grinned. “Luka, m’boy!” She laughed, and threw herself forward. Luka dropped Marinette’s hand to catch and hug her, enjoying his mother’s bone-crushing embrace. “What are ye doing wearing the suit, lad?”

Anarka stepped back, looking at him, and Luka shrugged. “Old man’s sick tonight, so I got stuck with the job. It’s good to see you, Ma.”

Her face softened, and she smiled. “Aye, it is that. I know ye probably cannae stay long, but come downstairs for a moment and have something hot to drink. And you too, lass,” she added, leaning a little to look around Luka at Marinette. “Got stuck with babysitting duty, did ye?”

Marinette giggled, and nodded, while Luka pretended to look wounded. “Ma, this is Marinette,” he said as they followed Anarka down the stairs into the ship’s galley. “Marinette, this is Anarka Couffaine, my mom. Where’s Juleka, Ma?” he added, glancing around.

“Passed out on the couch about an hour ago,” Anarka told him, jerking a thumb towards a lump topped with long black hair curled up at one end of the couch. “Never manages to stay up on Christmas. Pretty sure it’s that magic shit. Kids who try to stay up and see Santa never manage it.”

“There should be a loophole when you’re related to him,” Luka muttered. “And she’s hardly a kid.”

Anarka shrugged. “Don’t ask me, I don’t truck with that Christmas magic bullshit.”

“Maybe because she still believes,” Marinette suggested, and she blushed when Luka turned to look at her. “I mean, she knows Santa exists, so she still believes in him, so the magic still works on her.” She spread her hands, looking a little sheepish. “It’s just a thought.”

“Well, maybe.” Luka went over and kissed his sister’s forehead, tucking a creepy-ass doll he had picked out just for her under her arm. “Tell her I love her, okay?”

“O’course,” Anarka brought him a cup of—

“Coffee!” Marinette squealed, and then immediately put her hand over her mouth, eyes round.

“Aye,” Anarka laughed. “I know ya don’t have it ‘up north.’ Cocoa’s fine but,” she grinned at the blissful look on Marinette’s face at the first sip, “sometimes ye just want a good ol’ cup o’ joe. That much sweet all the time, sometimes ye need a touch o’ bitter.” Anarka winked at Luka, who realized he was staring at Marinette with what was probably a very stupid expression on his face. “Or spicy, eh?”

“It’s lovely,” Marinette sighed, fortunately not noticing the way Luka flushed red.

“Ye have to go, I expect,” Anarka sighed, when they handed the empty cups back.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said, glancing worriedly at her tablet.

“Don’t apologize,” Luka told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s the job. Ma understands.”

“Aye, that I do,” Anarka said, rolling her eyes. “Get on wi’ ye then. Thanks for stopping to see yer ol’ Ma.”

Luka kissed her cheek, and hugged her. “Bye, Ma. I’ll come by again when I can.”

As they loaded themselves back in the sleigh, Luka said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to ask if you wanted to stop and see your own family.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, waving a hand. “They’re surely asleep by now. Bakery hours, you know. And if they weren’t, we’d never get out before dawn. You don’t know my dad.”

Luka grinned and clucked to the reindeer. “Tell me about him.”

The night seemed to pass like lightning after that, conversations pausing and picking up between deliveries as if they’d never been interrupted. Marinette told him about her parents and her life before the North Pole. Luka told her about growing up on a houseboat with Anarka and his sister, and then finding out as a teen that his father was THE Fucking Santa Claus. For the first time Luka thought he could actually feel the magic working, and they left their last delivery and turned back north just as the sun was lightening their section of sky.

“So that’s that,” Luka sighed.

“Yes,” Marinette agreed, and leaned back with a sigh. “I won’t say I had no idea how much work it would be, because obviously it’s hard, but it’s different to actually experience it.”

“Would you do it again?” Luka wanted to know, and Marinette laughed.

“In a heartbeat,” she giggled, and then sobered slightly. “Would you?”

It was a bit of a loaded question. Somewhere in the dark of the night he had confessed to her his misgivings about taking on the mantle one day.

“I think I might,” he said slowly. “The right company makes a big difference.” He smiled at Marinette, and to his delight, she smiled back, in a shy way he hadn’t seen from her before. “We make a pretty good team,” he dared to add, and Marinette nodded.

“And we made so many people happy,” she pointed out, looking back towards the horizon where the sun was rising. “It feels good.”

Luka nodded thoughtfully. “So yeah, maybe I’d do it again.” He shrugged. “I don’t think the old man’s gonna retire anytime soon, so. I’ve got time to think about it.” He grinned. “After I’ve slept for like three days.”

“Agreed.” Marinette covered a yawn. “And I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t think I’m going to want to look at another cookie for at least a month.”

“I’m with you,” Luka laughed, and then licked his lips a little nervously. “So, after we’ve slept for three days…do you have plans for the New Year?”

“N-no, not really,” she stammered, reaching up to check her belled hat, which was slightly askew after all this time, but still there. Luka’s heartbeat sped up at her nervousness, which he thought was both adorable and a good sign.

“Maybe we could go somewhere?” Luka suggested. “Find a good cup of coffee and ring in the new year together?”

Marinette visibly swallowed, blushing before she met his eyes. “Maybe kiss at midnight?” she suggested, quietly but boldly.

“I’d like that,” Luka managed to get out, just barely.

“Hmm. That sounds nice. But…I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

Luka’s hands were on her face and his lips on hers in a heartbeat. The reindeer knew the way home, after all—but at the moment, he honestly didn’t care whether they made it or not. Another few laps around the world was sounding pretty good as Marinette’s arms wound around his neck.

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