#most male snowys his age have very few spots at all

[dazaiisbaby]

Coffee | Akaashi x Reader | Imagine

➣ P A I R I N G ✧ akaashi keiji x reader

➣ G E N R E ✧ soft happy christmas 

➣ T I M E ✧ 3 minutes

You walked down the snowy sidewalk, smiling as you passed by a man dressed as Father Christmas, handing out free cotton candy to the young kids around. It was a few days to Christmas and as usual, the adults and parents rush to get a gift or two for their loved ones.

The small town you grew up in was hectic at best yet calming as it provided you with a sense of reassurance. Something about the bustling streets and jolly music made you feel all warm inside, must be the small-town charm you thought.

It was a chilly, but beautiful day and you were craving for your favourite coffee that could only be found at (f/c) which was just around the corner. The cafe was quaint and the relaxing ambiance surrounding it was probably your favourite thing about the shop. Of course, you could've made the drink at home, but you loved the way they brewed their coffee. Not to mention, their latte art was spot on.

You finally came across the wooden oak doors which had a sign that read, "Christmas special! Eggnog for 40% off!" Smiling, you entered and sat by the window at the back of the cafe. Multiple snowflakes were painted on the windows which gave off a winter-cottage vibe.

Akaashi didn't notice the little jingle of the bells that were above the door as he was busy wiping the beverage equipment behind the counter. He was in his own little world until a certain male threw a dirty old cloth at him. "Oi, what was that for?" The man whose name tag read 'Bokuto' chuckled, "Table 5, the girl's a regular and she's been waiting for 15 minutes. She's pretty cute too, you gonna serve or stay in that la la land of yours?"

Akaashi didn't really hear what his senpai said, he was too busy staring at the girl who was blessed with looks able to rival Aphrodite herself. Don't get him wrong, he saw many pretty girls in his life but none were like you. Her captivating eyes made the barista feel entranced. "Akaashi-san, would you please just serve her already!" yelled their manager.

Your eyes were fixed onto the view outside the window - a couple of kids having a snowman building competition, just like you had many years before. Until so, you didn't notice the very good looking man in front of you.

"Sorry miss, would you like to order?" Your eyes met his and damn were you blushing, your cheeks resembled a red rose amid the snow. "A hot caramel macchiato, please." you timidly said, as you tightened your silk scarf around your neck. The both of you were nervous, there was no lie in that. He wrote down your order and took the menu from your table, smiling shyly as he stumbled his way to the counter.

"You are absolutely shit at talking to ladies, you know that?" retorted Bokuto as he leaned against the counter, making a beverage for another customer who sat near the entrance.

"You aren't that better!" argued Akaashi, even though it was completely true. His blunt and upfront personality was never good with the ladies. Akaashi worked extra hard on your order making each element with precision. Once he finished drizzling the caramel, he walked over to your table. This time, you saw him coming and not dazing out the window as before.

"It's hot so be careful. Enjoy your drink, miss," he said, putting your drink down with caution. You waved it off, as you took a sip of the delicately made coffee.

"It's no problem at all. It might even be the best I've drunk here." You continued to drink your coffee as Akaashi watched, he was quite flustered. "Forgive me, but I didn't get your name..."

"Ah, it's Akaashi." he managed to stammer out. Just that simple question made him feel a little more confident, it showed that you at least had the slightest of interest in him. You were definitely the most beautiful girl he's ever met.

"(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N), it's a pleasure to meet you." you replied, fiddling with your fingers. It was a habit that you formed from a very young age, you only did it when you were nervous or shy. Akaashi sat at the seat across from you. "I, uh, never saw you here before."

"Yeah...I only started working here a week ago," he said, as he rubbed the back of his next. "I see..." taking another sip from your drink as he watched.

"Hey, Akaashi! Stop flirting and get your ass here and help me clean, for goodness sake!!" a cheeky voice from behind the counter shouted, hands waving as he did. You laughed as Akaashi muttered under his breath, "I will kill him one day, I swear."

"I guess I should go back to work now, my manager's kinda strict," he said as he stood up. "But it was really nice to meet you."

"Hmm? Of course! Sorry to keep you from your job." you smiled once again, before taking out your phone and entering the 'contact' app, and handing it to the handsome waiter. "Well...sorry if it seems weird but, I want to get to know you more...can I get a number?" Blushing, Akaashi entered the digits on your phone.

"It's completely fine, can we hang out sometime? Preferably somewhere without my annoying co-worker." he smiled shyly.

"I'd love that," you replied, giving him a genuine and confident smile. Holy hell, he thought. "AKAASHI KEIJI! YOUR ASS! BEHIND THIS COUNTER! NOW!" shouted a man with hazel eyes resembling those of a cat, which made your head turned towards the voice. You saw his friend smirking and silently laughing at the waiter in front of you, making him paint his cheeks red in embarrassment.

"I'll call you soon." he smiled apologetically, before making his way back to the counter and knocking the older man on his head, earning a certain Bokuto chase him around their kitchen.

[puddygeeks]

Dusk Till Dawn - Dragon Age Inquisition - Cullen/Inquisitor

Masterlist

Rating: Suitable for all

A/N: This is actually my first ever piece of writing from the perspective of an existing character, especially a male so cut me some slack whilst I experiment with this new venture. I also do not tend to write in the 3rd person, so this piece has been a learning curve for me. However, I felt hugely inspired to write a fluffy piece about my fluffy boy, so enjoy! Let me know if you’d like to see more DA based content from me in future.

Summary: Commander Cullen struggles to maintain a professional, working relationship with the Inquisition’s fearless leader. As the realisation dawns on him that his thoughts linger on her, he begins to question whether the feeling is mutual.

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Lavellan

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Perhaps some mild spoilers?

Standing across the war table, hand placed comfortably on the hilt of his sword, Commander Cullen focused on remaining professional. 

Their fearless leader assigned missions and plotted political manoeuvres that would shape the very fabric of all the Kingdoms in Thedas. Despite being plucked from relative obscurity, she rose to this responsibility as if made for it and led the rapidly growing Inquisition with grace and wisdom. 

Without warning, her large, almond shaped eyes met his and he felt his very spirit stir at the subtle connection between them. Buried in the deep hue of her eyes, he could always sense some hidden power that was disguised by her petite frame and seemingly harmless appearance. 

He felt himself fidget on the spot, an involuntary movement that had escaped his carefully controlled facade and he noticed a slight smile lurking in the corners of her mouth. 

There was a hint of playfulness in the way that she viewed him, he thought, before she swept from the chamber, leaving it notably colder by her absence. Surely he must have been mistaken. She was an icon, a force of nature in the crumbling world and would never view him as anything more than her lieutenant.

“My, my. Are you blushing, Commander?” 

Leliana’s sickly sweet voice drifted from his side, tainting the drafty space with her sly implications. 

It was not the first time that suggestions of this nature had been made about him, but each time caused him to bristle with embarrassment in a manner that was entirely more revealing than intended. He made a sound that almost resembled a scoff at the absurdity of her statement, but it strangely combined with an awkward splutter that filled the bard’s usually pale face with a smug satisfaction. 

“I do believe you may be correct, Leliana. Our dearest Commander certainly does seem rather flustered. Why, I could not possibly suggest a cause for such a reaction.” Josephine taunted, her words coated in a barely concealed enthusiasm as she studied him over the top of her papers. 

Cullen cleared his throat in a joyless bid to regain some composure, as his colleagues gazed past him at each other with mischief gleaming in their eyes.

“Surely you both have other matters to attend to? Nobles to pamper, or spies to train?” He countered, a poignant lack of authority in his voice, as the women crossed their arms and met his suggestions with a blatant disdain.

The Inquisitor inspired courage and determination in the recruits, each viewing her as a symbol of hope and light in the darkness. For Cullen, however, she was a constant distraction and a trigger for his most regretful, tense behaviours. 

As time passed, he found that he was able to recognise traits within her that others were blind to. He was stunned by the depth of her kindness towards him. Regardless of the shame that he felt when presenting his issues with addiction for her judgement, he was always met with understanding and compassion. These were new experiences for Cullen and the emotions that they provoked in him were completely unexplored territory.

On the battlements of Skyhold, he embarked on his regular stroll to examine and assess their sustainability, when an unfamiliar sight caused him to pause in his tracks. Standing by the edge, staring out into the mountains with an intense expression was the Inquisitor, clearly deeply lost in thought. 

She didn’t seem to notice Cullen’s arrival, as her gloved hands gripped onto the stone wall and he recognised that the usual strength that radiated from her was absent. In what she believed to be a solitary moment, her defences were lowered and she had allowed herself an opportunity to be vulnerable. 

Cullen felt awkward witnessing this, feeling the familiar sensation of invading upon a sacred space as he’d often experienced throughout his youth in the Chantry.

“Are you going to stand and stare all day, or would you prefer to join me, Commander?” 

His stomach churned as her words cut through the tense silence and she turned to glance at him over her shoulder with a gentle smile. He blanched at her casual offer, feeling pressure compressing his chest and she returned to her pondering, blissfully unaware of the nerves that her presence summoned in him.

“I apologise, my lady. It was not my intention to intrude, nor to stare.” He managed to force the words out through the block in his throat, but as they left his mouth, he acknowledged the deeply ingrained formality in the way that he addressed her. She smiled fondly at nothing in particular. 

There was a stifling atmosphere as he realised that there was not another soul in sight and inwardly, he scolded himself for not recognising the absence of guards earlier. He knew that they had likely already shifted their positions out of respect, to allow her a moment of peace and he felt embarrassed at his perceived social blunder.

“You’re not intruding. You don’t need to tiptoe around me, you know. I don’t bite.” She commented idly and Cullen tightened his grip on his sword in stress. 

The instances of flirtatious remarks were mounting, an overpowering suggestion in his already cluttered mind and each new addition increased his difficulty in denying their presence. They were an ever present force, haunting him at all hours of the day with their desire to be acknowledged. He pushed it away, desperately pleading with his heart to allow him to remain focused and appropriate. The Inquisitor regarded him with an amused disbelief, as he remained at his cautious distance.

“Do you ever simply stop patrolling, or working, and allow yourself a few moments of peace? Our surroundings are idyllic. It’s wasteful not to appreciate them.” She urged, gesturing for him to join her and, unable to deny her request for a second time, he reluctantly marched over to her side with his legs feeling as heavy as led.

The view from the battlements was breath-taking, but it was difficult to fully realise it’s wonder beside the simple splendour of her beauty. She sighed wistfully, the pleasant sound causing a flutter in his stomach and he relished the circumstances that allowed him to witness her in a more relaxed state than he’d ever been entrusted with in the past. 

Surrounded by snowy mountains and without the usual bustle of demands pressing against them, the silence was no longer tense and Cullen allowed his shoulders to gradually lower into a comfortable slouch.

“We filled this empty shell with purpose and belief.” She began, breaking the silence in a sour manner. 

“The halls are bustling with people determined to bring change to our world and the courtyard has become a home to the faithful. Undeterred by all theories to the contrary, we’ve proven it possible to unite mages and templars against a common enemy, under a single, inclusive banner that fights for the freedom of all.” She detailed, as she listed achievements that should have filled her voice with pride, but instead the words rang hollow and her tone remained lacklustre. 

Cullen was unnerved by her raw, unenthusiastic demeanour that existed in stark contrast to the invigorating personality that she displayed in the company of her comrades. 

“And yet, at the head of this mighty cause is a single elf. Inquisitor Lavellan. Despite all of the titles, followers and respect, I am still merely a Dalish with a strange light imbued in my palm. My value is awarded as a result of missing memories that humans have interpreted as a symbol of divine intervention. Tell me, Commander Cullen, what certainty can you possess that I am worthy of such duty?” Lavellan turned to face him, her eyes alight with a storm of emotions that blazed from the inside and he was lost under the intensity of her doubt.

Words failed him as he floundered in search of an answer that could provide her with the peace that she so desperately desired. 

In his heart, he knew that his belief in her was greater than any other within this fortress, or indeed all Thedas itself. He knew that if he allowed himself to be honest, he could list all of the admirable qualities that he had long admired about the awe-worthy being before him. 

Regretfully, his terror of unveiling the depth of his devotion prevented him from granting her with honesty. Instead, he beheld her with a barely concealed state of adoration and she sighed in disappointment.

“I’m sorry. I’ve posed a question that you couldn’t possibly answer. I suppose I should know better than to burden others with my own insecurities.” She excused, turning her face from him with an unsatisfied void in her eyes that would remain with him for as long as he lived. 

The cool, crisp air tore through the gaps in their defences, carrying the loose sections of her silver hair out behind her like wings and only exaggerated her appearance to him as some kind of ethereal being. 

As his gaze explored her features, he noticed that her nose and cheeks glowed in a delicate shade of pink that spread to the tips of her gracefully pointed ears and he wondered how long she had been standing here, allowing her exposed skin to grow cold. He ached to lighten her burden, to remove the knot that formed between her brows as she battled the responsibilities that threatened to crush her beneath their weight and against his better judgement, his answer began to flow freely from his lips.

“In all of my years as a templar, I have followed leaders of many different titles. Each of them possessed their own approach, their own qualities that influenced their choices and shaped their time in power.” He recounted, uncertain of the confessions that might escape his lips as he spoke without restraint.

“Never have I known any other to rise from the ashes as you have, nor for the people to elect them with such fervent belief. They follow you with unshakable faith, as do I, not because of your origins, your race or your rumoured holiness. They follow because of your decisions, because you lead with a grace and wisdom that comes from deep within and is unique to your formidable soul.” 

“You are the Inquisitor not because of the anchor that you wield, but because there is no other who could fulfil this duty as you have. You are indisputably, unfathomably, exceptionally more than ‘merely a Dalish’, Lady Lavellen.” He spoke with conviction and with every shred of reasoning, he observed her becoming increasingly humbled by his confession. 

Of course, Cullen knew her name, but he wouldn’t dare to address her by it, believing that it disrespected her journey and consequent struggles to earn the title which she now held. Her eyes grew wide and it was clear that she was shocked by the passion of his words, whilst he waited in a terror ridden state, fearing that he had absolutely revealed too much.

“It is incomprehensible to me that you are capable of such earnest insight into others, whilst believing yourself to be scarcely more than a failed ex-templar.” She surveyed him with a sympathetic, yet frustrated expression and as often would occur in her company, Cullen found himself lost for words. 

When under her gaze, he felt unworthy of the praise that she often bestowed upon him and could not fathom her unwavering faith in him. Even when he had suggested that Cassandra replace him, Lavellan refused to allow him to relinquish his position and insisted that he could defeat his demons to abstain from the use of lyrium once and for all. There was no doubt in his mind that she made him a better person, but in spite of all his improvement, he still could not even begin to imagine himself as deserving of her fondness.

Lavellan turned from the wall to face him fully, closing the distance between them until she was nearer than he’d ever had cause to be. In such proximity, he could smell the natural scent of flowers and herbs on her skin, admired the sun that glinted in her eyes and his face flushed with a heat that exposed his exhilaration. 

For longer than he could ever truly admit, he had laid awake at night, imagining what a privilege it would be to touch her, but he would never be so bold as to attempt such a sin. Involuntarily, he gulped as she pouted her plump lips thoughtfully and his heart pounded with such intensity that he felt concerned that it could cease to function at any given moment. 

She leaned forward at a painfully gradual pace and had to shift her balance onto her toes in order to reach him. With ice tinted lips, she placed a single delicate kiss on his cheek, contrasting sharply with the burning of his skin. 

Instead of immediately moving away she lingered there, her breath tickling his neck as her mouth brushed his ear.

“Your faith extinguishes my fear, unlike any other.” She whispered, her words burning into Cullen’s mind like a brand from an iron that could never be compromised. 

All of his senses seemed to be intensified, as he committed every minute detail to memory for fear that this experience may not occur more than once. When she leaned back into his field of vision, her features glowed with fondness and he simply gawped at her in amazement. 

“You put my heart at ease, Cullen. Thank you.” She admitted with a relaxed sigh and without a further word, or any indication that she would explain the meaning behind this statement, she parted from him. 

As Lavellan’s delicate steps echoed down the stone staircase, Cullen remained rooted to the spot, obsessively analysing the conversation and wondering if he’d perhaps misunderstood. Perhaps the mountain of comments in his mind that he’d long considered to be indulgent, self-delusion had accumulated into something more significant than he’d ever dared to imagine.

[crearuru]

Bravely Default II, Martha x Adelle Chapter 1?

Spoilers for Chapter 3 through the end of the game chapter 6. Word count: 3,113. A lot. Like a lot. I'd count but tumblr wont let me copy paste the whole thing at once and its 4 am

Everyone knows Rhimedhal's winters are colder than the deepest ocean, and that the freezing winds could cut with a fury matching the most skilled skilled of mages. Of course, reading about it was one thing, but to a certain fairy from as sheltered and temperate an environment as Mag Mell, the thought to dress properly for the cold came far too late.

I knew it would be cold, but this is just ridiculous! If my wings were out they'd freeze before I could even get off the ground... Adelle pondered if keeping her disguise intact was worth the freezing cold. Surely, no one being around would allow her to drop her guard... but could she ever truly know who was watching? She'd set out to find her sister knowing she would need to lay low, but dressed for warmth as she was, and with such low visibility, she admitted she desperately needed shelter. She couldn't risk alienating herself from any nearby humans who might spot her braving the storm.

Even the monsters are hunkered down, she thought bitterly to herself. And where was this Rhimedhal town supposed to be, anyways? Surely she should've reached it by now... But she had to keep moving. Had to find somewhere to rest. The wind buffeted her, the ice it carried leaving shallow slices across her exposed midsection. The blizzard had arrived so suddenly, and her memory of the beautiful, gentle snowy night that it interrupted was far from a priority now. Leaving the Wayward Woods was something she needed to do, for her sister, but it was too late to return and beg for more supplies. She wondered how she would ever find those flowers she promised to bring back for her dear friend if she froze out here.

Is that... A cave? A section of darkness ahead, when the blinding white snow clung to everything else brought Adelle's heart a renewed vigor. She would not fall so soon into her journey, not to something as simple as the weather. As she tucked into the Serpent's Grotto, she lit a small fire and set up a tent. She would need to hunker down until the storm passed, which could take anywhere from hours... to weeks. As she regained feeling in her extremities, she realized the wind would blow out her fire if she did not go deeper.... and monsters within the cave may ambush her if she did not take caution. But first... she needed rest. Just an hour or two, and she would be fine. She wasn't in direct path of the wind, for she was behind an outcropping in the cave. She had some time to recover before pressing on.

And so, Adelle slept. Cold, hungry, and exhausted... But not alone. She dreamt of brown hair, of eyes locked upon her with a determination that matched her own, of flashes of silver and pink just out of the fire's light...

And the subject of these dreams knew she was there. Martha had asked Master Gwidyion if someone was coming, and he more than confirmed it. But was the stranger friend, or foe? That is what Martha set to find out. As she prowled the Grotto, her jaw firmly set, her eyes sharp and focused, she wondered if this visitor understood the ground upon which they trespassed. Were they here for the Lord of Dragons? To help? To harm? Master Gwydion had been sick for a while, and Martha worried he may not have much time left. Gwilym was next to inherit the position, but he was young. Needed time. Martha had served Master Gwydion for most of her life, as did her father before her, and his father, and so on. To neglect opportunities to extend his time on Excillant would just not do.

Having taken care of a few troublesome spirits, Martha reached the entrance to the cave. She saw a gray haired girl, in blue and grey, around her age, who she was surprised to see had not succumbed to the cold. Wearing a short shirt and loose pants in a blizzard? Sure, Martha wasn't exactly the picture of bundling up right now, but that was the result of the Dragoon asterisk! She wouldn't leave her midsection exposed to the cold if she weren't the Dragoon guardian, especially not going out into the blizzard full force. Looking closer, she noticed the girl was cut up something awful. The ice in the air had done quite the number on her face and torso. Foe or not, Martha knew she wouldn't likely make it without treatment. Not without some severe frostbite, at least. Eyeing the girl curiously, she picked her up and set her upon her broad shoulder. They would both do nicely with a warm cup of the good stuff in Gwydion's chambers. Then maybe she could ask about the intent behind her trespass.

Adelle opened her eyes to a brightly lit room, filled with greenery, sunlight coming in from the top of the chamber. It was so... warm. She smiled for a moment, content and warm, before feeling the bandages upon her face and stomach.

"Where... Where am I?" Adelle wasn't really expecting an answer, but she heard a calm, regal voice echo in her head.

"You are safe, child of... No? How very... interesting..." Looking up, Adelle saw a massive, silvery dragon, looking down upon her with piercing, yet gentle, red eyes. He seemed almost to take up the whole chamber, and yet he did not feel imposing. The weariness in his voice softened his aura considerably. Her mouth agape, she patted herself along her upper and lower back, wanting to ensure her wings were still hidden. After reassuring herself she would have felt herself revert to her true form, she turned her gaze back to the dragon. "Are you a..."

Martha, piping up from beside the massive beast, let out a quick laugh. "A dragon? Why yes, he is. This is Master Gwydion, and I am his guardian and caretaker, Martha." The brunette smiled, and despite the protective aura seemingly emitting off her, it was a kind and sincere one. But there was an edge to her voice as she continued, "You are trespassing on sacred ground. None are permitted here, in order to keep Master Gwydion, Lord of Dragons, Lord of Rhimedhal safe. State your business, or I'm afraid my act of bandaging your wounds may go to waste."

So it was Martha that bandaged these... Adelle idly traced her fingers along a particularly long stretch of red on her bandaged torso. She must have got cut up worse than she had thought from that ice. "I thought dragons were supposed to be creatures of myths to-" she caught herself. She did not want to find out if humans still carried murderous intent towards her kind. She had heard they would lie, cheat, betray and attack. But this one had bandaged her wounds...? "I thought dragons were supposed to be creatures of myth."

Gwydion's laughter rang through the chamber. There was no malice in it; it was a laugh like that of one who has reconnected with a long lost friend. "I am not the only one here who could claim connection to myth! But, I shall keep this secret for the time being."

Shit, Adelle thought, he's onto me. But at least... she turned her head to look at the woman beside the massive dragon. She definitely appeared to be human. The village fairies had told her that humans had "genders"; "males" were broad and deep of voice, "females" supposedly higher and... Well, there were many differences purported between the two. Adelle observed Martha's strong arms, her tender grip on her spear, the sparkle in her eyes. She couldn't see anything that would help her confirm or deny the accounts of the village fairies. "Men" were "he", "women" were "she"... Maybe asking along those lines would help her keep things straight for maintaining cover.

"Martha?" The brunette looked deep into Adelle, unblinking pools of emerald green. There was caution given towards the fairy in disguise, although she of course had no reason to believe Adelle was anything other than human. Rather, she suspected her motives for coming here. Perhaps there may be something she could do to-

"Martha!"

Martha snapped out of her brainstorming of ways to prove good or ill will for a moment. Her gaze had been returned this whole time.

"Yes?" She asked Adelle through her teeth. Surely no one would come to kill the Lord of Dragons without so much as a winter coat, right? But that brings up the question of what kind of person could make it this far into the Rhimedhal region without freezing to death or prepping properly. The girl's fortitude was certainly-

"Are you-" Adelle caught herself. She needed to phrase this in a way that wouldn't make her look like someone who doesn't know what a "woman" is. "What are your pronouns?"

Martha took a moment to process this. Just what kind of girl gets all cut up in the ice and wind, collapses on sacred and forbidden ground, gets brought to see a dragon, a DRAGON, a deity on earth, and takes the time to ask someone's pronouns before addressing any of the above! Was she trying to strike a nerve? Had she simply forgotten to shave? Martha knew the Dragoon outfit might make her look like a tryhard, some had gone so far as to whisper she was a... a... there were some rather unkind statements going around about her appearance since she'd been dressed in Dragoon, but she was a priest! ....a priest... Right. And should priests not assume sincerity until proven otherwise?

Martha took a breath, then let out a long, slow exhale. "I appreciate your consideration in not assuming. It's quite... modern of you. But, as I've drilled into the townsfolks' heads already, I am a woman. She/her is fine... What about yours? And your name? I can hardly dance around saying it forever."

Adelle was no better off than she had been before. She knew fairies couldn't tell men and women apart, but had she commited a faux pas? Maybe humans and gender weren't so straightforward as the texts implied. Gender was certainly seeming more and more to be more trouble than it was worth. She looked herself over, then at Martha. They both had similar figures, would it be a mistake to use she/her as well? Fairies had "Queens", and "Ladies", which texts about humans her sister Edna had shown her seemed to line up with she/her. She'd planned to go by that set since she set out, but seeing a human be so testy about it was giving her second thoughts.

"My name is Adelle. I am... also a woman. She/her is what I use as well." Phew. Nailed it. Martha's face had softened, and her cover wasn't blown.

Martha was perplexed. Something about Adelle's response gave her pause, but she was at least glad that she hadn't been incorrectly assuming. Those who live in Dragon's Grotto should not throw stones.

"So, Adelle... What business leaves one so woefully unprepared for the cold as yourself frozen half to death on the Lord of Dragon's doorstep? Why didn't you go to town first, or button up?"

There it was. Her first test of her cover story. Heavens only knew how the human would react if she found out Adelle was a fairy.

"I'm... A travelling mercenary. I'm looking for my sister, Edna. She ran off from our hometown, and stole some... very important town heirlooms. Leaving town is not something one normally does, but I needed to track her down. I need answers."

That should be good enough for Martha, right? Adelle stared intently at her, just waiting to see how she took the bait. She hated lying, but... There was a lot more in her future. She would just have to suck it up. She noticed the light shift as she looked over Martha, the twinkle gleaming off her armor, the tail protruding from her back that swayed as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, the tone to her voice that reminded her of the wind through holes in trees, or water running down the river, the way her emerald eyes looked like the bottom of her favorite crystal clear, mossy lake. She looked so much... prettier, than she expected humans to be. Humans were supposed to be scary, and while this one had indeed made implications of a threat, she had not attacked. She had even bandaged Adelle's wounds...

"Adelle, are you listening?" Adelle snapped out of her trance. "What, Martha? I just responded, d-didn't I?"

Martha shook her head, her long brown hair falling in front of her face, obscuring a soft grin. "I said, what hometown would leave you unprepared for the cold? You could have frozen to death."

"We're... An isolationist town. Not on any map. We stay in one place, so I was not expecting the cold to be so... Penetrating. Reading about it is different than the real thing.

"What do you mean, reading about it? Have you never seen snow before?"

"No, I'd only ever read about it."

Martha's heart sank for the poor girl. The snow and cold were bitter, and deadly if not respected, but to live a life without snow... Without seeing the mountains in spring, as the snow atop the permafrost melts and feeds small rivers... It simply would not do.

"That settles it. As soon as this blizzard ends, I need you to do me a favor."

Adelle hesitated. She really needed to get back to finding her sister. There's no telling what could go wrong if she couldn't track down the asterisks. Though, Martha's outfit seemed familiar somehow...

"I need you to go east, and collect some herbs for Master Gwydion. His health is fading, and these herbs can extend his time left on this plane. But if you bring them back, we will each bestow upon you a favor.

Gwydion spoke, softly but firmly: "I believe I know the service you wish me to provide, Martha. I can provide it. Adelle, if you can bring me these herbs, I will have enough strength left in me to scout for the potential whereabouts of your sister. There are some familiar feelings your presence brings that reminds me of Martha. I'm certain your sister will provide that same trace."

Martha was unsure of the "energy" her Master was talking about, but she did feel an attachment to Adelle. She was quite pretty, yes, but it was more than that. Her asterisk... Adelle and the Dragoon asterisk both gave Martha a sense of.... she.... she couldn't find the words for it. She had guarded Gwydion for years, for juuuuust under a couple decades, even, but the Asterisk was a recent acquisition. The Archbishop had given it to her just a half year ago, and it had given her a sense of self that mere satisfaction with one's purpose could not.

"Master Gwydion is correct, for the part I know he can provide. But I have something to provide as well. If you retrieve the herbs we need, I will show you a beautiful sight. You must see the snow from the way I can see it."

Adelle was confused. The way she could see it?

"And until the blizzard dies down... I hope you don't mind me offering, well, your own offering, but i rummaged through your tent before bringing you in here, and well... I saw you brought firewine."

Damn it! Adelle cursed herself. She knew she should've remembered to take a swig before passing out. No wonder she looked and felt so cold. Not to understate how cold it was outside, but firewine definitely would've helped warm her up inside the cave.

"Would it be alright if we shared a bottle? I see you've definitely stocked your supplies before this journey, oh ho ho!" Martha winked as she said this, to indicate the teasing nature. She... Some part of her wished to extend goodwill towards this trespasser. She had not yet made a move of hostility to Gwydion, nor his son sleeping near his tail, and she was, frankly, dying for company. Tending to the dragons was her life's work, and she would not trade it for the world, but living on sacred ground was terribly stifling to one's social life. The pleasures of the flesh, such as fine food, wine, even the touch of another human's hand on hers... She missed them. If only she knew Adelle wasn't a human, ah?

Adelle's stomach rumbled. She was cold, but no longer freezing. The innermost chamber of the cave was warm enough to support plants, but the chill from her stint outside had yet to fully leave her. She dreaded to think of what she might let slip after partaking, buuuuuut.... It was good to get some practice in. If she really planned on getting work to support her sister-hunt, she would need to get as much practice in with humans as possible.

"What the hell, sure. To a hopefully well spent winter?"

"To a winter well spent, indeed." Martha began to pour them each a glass, and they began to dine. There was fresh meat, berries, fruit, and edible flowers (Martha understood the meat, but wondered how anything else could be this fresh at this time of year). A few glasses in, they both loosened their tongues some. Martha told of the years spent training for the role of Guardian from a young age, and Adelle came up with fantastical stories about the escapades of her and her best friend from Mag Mell... She of course left out any identifying details of fairy status, or names. Flight stories were out as well. Humans walked everywhere. It was slow and exhausting. They dranks and sang, ate, partook in games, danced... and danced, and danced, and danced. There was something about their eyes meeting, the tipsy laughs they shared... Adelle thought that maybe humans aren't as scary as they were led to believe. She knew her sister loved humans, and she could see why. Spinning Martha around until she got dizzy was a real hoot. But when the night was done, they did not retire to bed, so much as fall down one after the other, asleep. Gwylim tried to wrest at least Martha to her usual patch of moss, but they had collapsed over one another and were snoring soundly. Surely, if Martha had reservations about Adelle, they would be gone on the morrow.

[coldace24]

White Elegance In Snowy Splendor (RWBY Fanfic)

[When Everything Inside Suffers Silently]

Head up...

Shoulders back...

Right foot forward...

slow your breathing...

wait for the right time to strike...

...

Now!

She rushed forward, the tip of her rapier raised in front of her for a poised strike. Traveling a few meters ahead, she ground to a halt, pulling back her weapon for a moment, then continuing on with a flurry of thrusts. Suddenly, she pulled back, raising her blade for a parry, then ultimately a counter, before giving one final, powerful, forward thrust.

The air settled quietly as she ceased her onslaught; the dust settling away on a wide radius around her. She adjusted her stance, pulling up the blade in front of her as she stood straight, then delivered a small bow to mark the end of her practice.

A small sigh of disappointment escaped her lips; though satisfied with her skill, she found much discontent with their lack of acknowledgement, especially from her father. Tucking away her rapier to her side, she started to walk towards the fountain at the edge of the courtyard. Sitting down on its surface, her gaze fell upon the vast yet empty night sky, searching for visible stars as if searching for an answer to her own troubles.

"Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company... is out on her courtyard trying to look for non-existent stars." She mumbled to herself, unconsciously letting out another sigh. "Sounds like the perfect summary of my life."

"Aww, don't be so down, princess. It's not all bad." The voice of a young male came from behind her, much to her surprise.

In an almost instantaneous reaction, she drew her sword and turned around, the tip of her blade pointed towards the perpetrator, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"Woah, easy there, princess!" It was a young boy, perhaps around the same age as her, dressed in commoner's clothes; his dark hair long enough to almost cover his blue eyes. He had a grin on his face as he held up his hands in surrender.

"W-Who are you and how did you get in here!?" She shouted, still holding up the sword to him.

"Well, princess, my name's Zephyr. Zephyr Monochrome." He flashes a wide smile at her. "As for how I got here... well, I have my ways."

"What do you want!? If you're here to kidnap me...I'm warning you, you'll be in for a world of pain!" As if to make a point, she leveled her blade to the boy's eyes.

"Nah, I'm not here to do that. I was just looking for a good spot to find some stars. And I think I found just the right one." He held up his fingers like a frame towards the sky.

"HUH!?!? I'M SORRY BUT DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHERE YOU ARE!?!?" Her eyes narrowed in disbelief.

"Hmm, not exactly but-"

"YOU, mister, are trespassing in the home of the Schnee family, owners of the Schnee Dust Company. One of the largest producers and exporters of Dust in the whole world!"

"Oh...cool then."

"Wha- excuse me!?" She was dumbfounded at his indifference. What mongrel would not even care after hearing the Schnee name? "That's it. You, mister trespasser, are going to have to leave, whether you like it or not."

"Oh come on, I finally found the perfect spot. It's not like I'm bothering you or anything. Just here to watch the night sky." As if enforcing his defiance, he crossed his legs and sat on the floor, again flashing her a wide smile.

Weiss's patience had reached its peak. This boy was clearly rubbing her the wrong way, and she would be nothing but more than glad to get rid of him. She pulled back her sword, preparing to launch a strike at him, though she made sure to aim at his forearm so as to avoid major injuries. She thrust forward in a fast, preemptive strike, but before the blade could connect with the boy's arm he had managed to catch the blade with a single hand.

Only then did she notice that the boy was wearing steel-enforced gloves, the kind issued to the military, but seemed more customized and personal. His grip on the blade was strong; strong enough for Weiss to use her entire weight as leverage just to pull it away from him.

"You really shouldn't be stabbing people like that all of a sudden, princess." He slowly stood up, patting his backside to get rid of the dust.

This person is dangerous. Those words rang in Weiss's mind, making her think twice of her actions, trying to find a better solution. But then again, she already attacked him, what other alternatives could there be? If it came down to this, she thought, then I might as well go all out.

Raising up her sword once more, she poised herself into a calm stance; regulating her breathing as she began to concentrate.

Remember your training, Weiss...

Head up...

Shoulders back..

Right foot forward... ...not that forward

slow your breathing...

wait for the right time to strike, and...

"Are you meditating or something?" The boy's sudden disturbance ruined her delicate focus. His face was already an inch away from hers, his eyes darting around as if trying to examine her features up close. She stumbled back in surprise, losing her balance on her wedge heeled shoes and started to fall, but before she could hit the ground, the boy managed to grab her sword arm, pulling her up gently until she was close enough to feel his breath.

Perhaps the shock of losing her balance clouded her mind, as for a moment, she was unsure of what had happened, then noticed the wide smile of the boy in front of her, ticking her off and making her remember how she was supposed to get rid of this accursed trespasser. Pushing him away, she pulled back into a stance, her left arm holding the sword's point towards the boy's direction, ready to strike.

"Look, princess, I really don't want any trouble. Can't we settle this peacefully?"

"Hmph! You can blame yourself for trespassing in Schnee property!"

She lunged, a quick but powerful strike aimed for his shoulder, yet he simply took a step aside and dodged with minimal effort. She skid to a stop, pulled back her weapon, then continued on with a flurry of thrusts. With each strike, the boy would simply dodge to the side or swat the blade away with his hand, resulting in nothing but silly misses that left her feeling belittled; and nothing could have irritated Weiss Schnee more than being belittled.

She pulled her sword close, spinning the revolving Dust chamber at its guard until it settled and locked on a single color; Fiery Red. From the exhaust barrel came red Dust that wrapped around her rapier's blade, and with one, powerful thrust, she sent a wave of flames toward her opponent.

The flames landed and erupted into a large explosion, sending smoke and dust everywhere like a heavy fog. As the fumes finally began to clear, the very first thing she noticed was the wide blast crater that had newly formed on the courtyard's floor; something her father would surely not be happy about.

"...I might have gone a little bit too far." Her words had a hint of tremble in them. The lack of a trespassing boy or a burnt corpse in sight served only to add to her unease.

"...I'm definitely going to get in trouble for this, aren't I?" The words finally escaped her mouth, words she didn't want to hear.

"Well, hopefully not. Although I have to say, you really went all out with that one."

She turned around to find the boy sitting on top of the ornate fountain, his clothes a little charred, but had no visible injury or burn.

"How did y-" She cut her sentence off, realizing how it would make her seem dumbfounded by his escape. "H-Huh, I thought for sure you'd been blown to little bits."

"Well, I'm a bit...skilled, princess." He gave her a sly wink, which did nothing but irritate her more. Fortunately, Weiss had regained her composure after her explosive display so as to not repeat it again, and went with a more...civilized approach.

"Mister...Zephyr, was it?" She tucked away her sword as she started to walk towards him. "Look, how about we put all of this behind us, and settle this peacefully."

"Why of course, yes, we should." Zephyr dropped down from the fountain and slowly walked towards her, hands raised in surrender. "Although when you look back, it was you who started it. But yes, I agree."

"Great!" Weiss was now face to face with him, around a meter apart. "So, how about you leave this place, and I can forget about all of this. Yes?"

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Weiss thought she might have screwed up a bit, but then he started nodding his head as he slowly backed away.

"Alright, princess. I'll do that." He flashed that same wide smile again. "I'll take my leave, seeing as how I've found my star tonight. An especially bright one at that."

Before she could ask what he meant, the boy had dashed away and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Weiss Schnee alone again at the empty courtyard, left to ponder over his parting words.

"...what star...?" She turned to the empty heavens above her. "...there's nothing up there..."

. . .

"Weiss Schnee, do you have anything to say for yourself?" Her father's tone was adamant and strict. She could only stare at the floor in silence, guilty of yesterday's destruction of the courtyard.

It was one thing to be reprimanded for that, but for her father not to believe her story about the trespassing boy, that hurt her the most; she would never make up a story, yet that is how her father sees it, unconvinced and unbelieving of her.

"Hmph! I thought not. If you had just admitted your mistake in the first place, we wouldn't have wasted so much time on this." He turned towards the window. "Now, return to your room. And when you train, make sure you don't destroy anything else, understand!?"

"...yes, father."

. . .

"...why am I doing this?" She could only shake her head at her illogical action. There she was, in the middle of the night at the courtyard; the place she should be staying away from due to the previous fiasco. Yet because of her father's response, some sort of rebellious spirit had found its way inside her, and now, more than anything, she wanted to meet the boy, and perhaps...

"I doubt he would be coming back. Not after my impeccable display of Dust explosions." She gave out a long, heavy sigh as she sat down by the fountain. "Why is everything I do always wrong...?"

"Sulking again? You must really have it tough, huh, princess?"

Before she could even turn around to see, the boy, Zephyr, had settled down beside her, crossing his legs and turning towards her with a grin.

"Y-you!"

"Yes, me."

"H-huh, I didn't think you'd actually return to this place. You must be quite the fool to trespass here yet again."

"You say that but... weren't you waiting for me?" He smiled. "After all, you came back out here around the same time as last night. Surely that's no coincidence, right?"

"Wrong!" She answered almost instantly. "I simply like being here. This is both my training ground and my leisure area."

"Alright alright, if you say so." He raised his hands in surrender. "So, what's gotten you so bummed out this time?"

She could only stare at him in silence. Even when she had attacked him and even insulted him, there he was asking about her problems; perhaps the only one who had shown a sliver of care aside from her butler and her sister. A stranger who barely knew her, how could she ever confide in him? Yet, when she thought about it, who else was there?

"Princess...? Are you alright?" His question broke her train of thought.

"What? Oh, yes, I'm...alright."

His eyebrows furrowed in doubt, but he didn't press on to ask, perhaps understanding how it was a private matter. For the rest of the moment, he was quiet, not saying or asking anything, not even a sound or a grunt, which made Weiss quite conscious, but somehow comfortable just sitting with him in silence.

"You know..." She finally spoke. "I feel kind of...trapped."

"Trapped? Why is that?"

"Well...as heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, I was always told to keep face, no matter what I do. My whole life was dictated by my father, and my future was written in stone." Instinctively, she found herself holding her arms. "I didn't want that...but I didn't have a choice. My only solace was reading about the outside world, about the things I've never had, or can never experience."

"What kind of things?"

"Hm...like, bunk beds." She held back a chuckle. "I've always wanted to try sleeping in those. They seem fun, and you'd get to sleep with...a friend."

"Well you're absolutely right, princess. Bunk beds are pretty fun, especially when there are a lot of them together in a room. You'd have loads of friends to play and chat with the moment you wake up!" He was laughing as he explained in wide motions.

"Yes." She tried to smile, but it felt heavy. "Yet...that is something I'll never be able to experience."

"And why not?"

"I just told you! I can't, because I'm the heiress to the company! That's already decided for..."

"And why do they get to decide that?" He looked dead straight in her eyes, his expression and tone, serious. "Look, princess, you're you. Nobody gets to decide who you are, or what you should become."

"But I can't!"

"Yes you can! For once, princess, try to be honest with yourself." His words struck a cord inside her. "You're strong, you're smart, now make use of those talents and reach for what you want."

"...how?" Her voice cracked. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"The first step...is to stop following what everyone says, and start following what your heart says." He pointed at her chest. "I know, somewhere inside you, you understand what that means, isn't that right, princess?

She did. Of course she knew, but the obstacle in front of her, the highest wall she has to overcome is none other than her father. That scared her, more than anything else; just the thought of going against his wishes made her tremble.

"You know, you don't have to do it altogether at once, princess." He placed his hand on her head and started to gently stroke. Usually, such actions would warrant anger from the Weiss Schnee, but at that moment, she didn't mind; rather, she felt assured that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright.

"Maybe...you can just start with this." He motioned to her ponytail. "I see how you, in your dress and everything, seem to be going for a symmetric look. Was this because of your father as well?"

"Yes...even that was his decision."

"Then how about you switch it up? Maybe tie it to one side next time?" He smiled. "A small action with a greater meaning. Until you can muster up the courage to go against him fully...you can start with these small things, right?"

"That's..." She thought a lot about it, but ended up laughing instead. It was the silliest thing, but somehow, she understood what he meant. A small action with a greater meaning... those words were soon carved into her heart.

"Perhaps you're right..." She turned to him. "One step at a time."

"Mhm." He smiled at her. "And when you finally break out of your cage, princess, and you have no idea of any destination...then there's a place called Beacon Academy over at Vale. They train Hunters and Huntresses there. With your skills, I'm sure you'll make it in there easy."

"Beacon Academy? Vale? But that's in another kingdom!"

"I know. But you wanted to see the world outside, right? What better place to start than in another kingdom?" He stood up and stretched out his arms. "Take my word for it, princess. The places out there are breathtaking!"

"H-how do you know all that...?" She started to wonder. This boy who seemed like any other commoner was someone who knew so much, not only about other places, but with almost everything else. From fighting to encouraging, this boy was so enigmatic, yet captivating in her eyes.

"Just...who are you...?" The words escaped her mouth.

"I told you, princess. My name is Zephyr Monochrome." He smiled as he gave her another head pat. "As for my occupation...I'm a hunter. Well, a hunter-in-training, to be exact."

"You're...a hunter?" For a moment, she was in awe. "But...why are you-"

"Woops, hold that thought, princess." He interjected. "Seems we're out of time!"

"Stop, trespasser!" A pair of guards shouted from the other end of the courtyard as they ran towards them.

"Well, good luck, princess. And hopefully, we'll see each other again." He dashed away, his smile being the last thing she saw as he disappeared into the darkness just like the other night, leaving Weiss Schnee alone yet again; alone, but no longer lonely. This time...she knew just what she had to do. One step at a time.

. . .

"What...did you do with your hair?" Jacques Schnee, her father, had his eyes set on her ponytail, now tied to her right instead of the back.

"It's a fashion choice, father." She held her stance, looking unfazed.

"Hmph. Whatever." He pursed his lips. "So, what do you need from me?"

"I'm applying for Beacon Academy's Huntress program."

"Nonsense!" His voice was raised, causing Weiss to flinch, but she stood her ground nonetheless. "If you want to be a Huntress, fine. But Beacon Academy!? Bah! You can take the same program here at Atlus!"

"But father I-"

"No!" This time, he was shouting. "I'm not letting you study in such a far away place when the same results can be achieved here, where you're within reach."

"You don't understand, father! I want to study in Vale!" She pursed her lips, so as to hold back her anger.

"Bah! Atlus is better equipped than Vale!" He shook his head yet again. "Stop this stupidity at once!"

"I will not back down, father." She did her best not to falter, but with every moment, and every rising of her father's voice, it became much harder each time. "You will let me study in Beacon, and I will do anything to prove to you that I'm ready to take this step."

Her father fell silent. The look in his eyes was fierce, yet instead of lashing out, he seemed to reconsider, breathing out a heavy sigh as he turned towards the room's only window.

"Very well." He paused to sigh again. "You've been training everyday, haven't you?"

"Without fail, father."

"And you believe these skills of yours will let you survive the world out there?"

"I do."

"So be it." He turned to look her straight in her eyes. "You will take a test, and if your skills and training prove their worth, then I will reconsider your application to Beacon Academy. But if you fail, you will never speak of this nonsense again, understand?"

"I-" She hesitated for a moment, but then bit her lip so as to regain her resolve. "If that is what it takes."

"Good." He sat down on his desk chair. "Then go and be ready. Because your enemy will not show you mercy."

"Enemy...?"

"...the Arma Gigas shall be who you fight."

She pursed her lips. The Arma Gigas, whatever that was, it sounded dangerous; but she couldn't back out from here, not after everything that has happened. She steeled herself once more, holding onto the resolve that the boy had given her, and with one quiet breath, spoke out the words that have lingered in her mind.

"I will be free."

. . .

~ Mirror, mirror, tell me something, Who's the loneliest of all? ~

[dracosollicitus]

sequels and follow-ups

Hey friends! Now that Damerey December is over, I’d like to see if anyone wanted a follow-up or a sequel (or even a check-in, headcanon ramble) for any of the 23 fics.

I’ll list them below (most will be under a read more), and go ahead and let me know which you’d be most interested in seeing more of/which were your favorites.

(Note: The ones I already have plans for a sequel for will have *** next to them)

There’ll Be Parties for Hosting Rated G

After a disastrous year of working together, Poe Dameron and Rey Smith are sworn enemies; when their boss, Leia Organa, requests that they co-plan the office Christmas party, they try to put their differences aside to make the holidays bright for everyone else.

Hearts Will Be Glowing Rated G

Finn Storm waits until the day of their Christmas party to let Poe Dameron know that he purposefully rigged the Secret Santa Exchange this year so that Poe would get Rey Kenobi.

(And maybe that's because Finn's a little tired of his best friend pining after his other best friend, and wants to speed things up a little)

You Spin Me Right Round Rated G

Poe Dameron does not have high expectations when his friend drags him to the JCC for a dreidel competition - but, as luck would have it, he sits down next to the prettiest girl he's ever seen. Maybe Singles Night isn't the worst thing ever.

Rey Kenobi and the Happy Christmas Rated T ***

Six months after she graduates from Hogwarts, Rey Kenobi celebrates the holidays with Obi-Wan and Kes Dameron. While she's unsure if her boyfriend will be able to make the festivities, she finds herself surrounded by love on Christmas Eve.

You’re the Gift (That’s Made All of My Dreams Come True) Rated G

Poe Dameron volunteers to keep watch over Central Command while the rest of the Resistance celebrates Life Day.

His boring night becomes a bit more interesting when the resident Jedi decides to hang out with him.

But If You Really Hold Me Tight (All The Way Home I’ll Be Warm) Rated T ***

Rey Smith, a well-trained nurse, does not need any nonsense in her ER on Christmas Eve. Especially if said nonsense arrives in the form of a very handsome, wounded firefighter fresh from saving multiple lives.

The Twelve (Bad Dates) of Christmas Rated M

Regrettably, Rey Kenobi lost a bet to her friend, Jessika.

Now, she has to suffer through twelve terrible dates, right before Christmas. It wouldn't be so bad, if Rey didn't have to come home to her perfect, funny, gorgeous, kind roommate at the end of every failed, disastrous date. This wouldn't be so awful, if she didn't have such a crush on Poe Dameron, who's woefully out of her league, and is there to comfort her and cheer her up when yet another Tinder-bro sticks her with the check after talking about his gains all evening.

There's no way this is going to end well.

One Christmas Party a Year is Enough  Rated G

Rey Kenobi has to attend her friend Kaydel's Christmas Party because not to attend would be to admit defeat.

With her awful ex-boyfriend in attendance, Rey doesn't want to face the holiday get-together alone; and, she's out of options for fake romantic interest, as her only male friend, Finn, is well-known by her other circle of friends, as is his girlfriend, Rose.

Luckily, a friendly stranger overhears her plight and offers his services as a fake boyfriend - scratch that. Fake fiancee.

Baby It’s Cold Outside Rated T

While the Resistance is stationed on Hoth, Poe and Rey have a Life Day holoreel marathon in Poe's room when Rose and Finn occupy Rey's bunk.

They get through a few holos; but when the power goes out, and the heat goes down, Rey and Poe might have to get a little ... closer than anticipated.

Couldn’t Help But Notice Rated G

When Poe looks out his window on a snowy afternoon, he's surprised to see a girl outside, trying to make a snowman.

And that wouldn't be that surprising, except she's wearing a t shirt. And leggings. In the snow.

He's out the door before his dad can ask him what he's doing. (High School AU)

Dear Stranger Rated G

Poe and Rey sign up for a postcard exchange around the holidays; they never could have imagined that an actual friendship (and maybe something more) would have come from it.

But as Long as You Love Me So Rated G

After a break up that came seemingly out of the blue, Poe Dameron agrees to attend Christmas Eve dinner with his ex-girlfriend, so Rey doesn't have to explain to her parents that they're no longer a couple.

What could go wrong?

You Will Get a Sentimental Feeling When You Hear Rated T ***

Finally free of her abusive ex-manager, pop star Rey Niima is starting a new stage of her career by launching a national tour during the holiday season. While loneliness and isolation have been her constant companions since being thrust in the spotlight at a young age, she encounters a small child in Chicago who just might change her fate.

Sugar Plum Rated E

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring - Except for Poe Dameron, who was both infuriating and amusing his long-suffering wife.

(A little snapshot of post-Sugar Sugar married life)

The Sunshine of My Life Rated G

With Poe home at last, Rey witnesses a special moment between father and daughter.

Oh, Darling (It’s You I’m Without)

Rey Skywalker has been writing the same lyrics, over and over again, since she turned 18. Whenever there is a pen in her hand, the words sprawl out onto paper -

Heroes and thieves at my door/I can't seem to tell them apart anymore/And just when I've figured it out/Oh, darling it's you I'm without.

Soulmates are growing more and more uncommon - however, all the soulmate stories she's heard involve each person knowing one half of their shared song. You find your soulmate when you find the person whose half matches yours.

But, Rey can't seem to find the tune to match her words. Clearly something is wrong with her.

Rumor Has It Rated G

On a normal day in December, something causes quite a stir at Alderaan Enterprises -

Assistant Manager Poe Dameron, notorious bachelor, is spotted flirting with a pretty, young accountant named Rey...who happens to wear a wedding ring.

The Nutcracker Pilot Rated G (Still need to finish!)

England, 1917:

Rey Solo celebrates Christmas Eve with her family at Alderaan Abbey, just outside of London. When her beloved godfather and uncle comes to visit, he brings her a peculiar nutcracker, dressed as a pilot.

After her brother harms the nutcracker in a fit of cruelty, Rey fixes the toy as well she can; but, at the stroke of midnight, the Supreme Leader of the wicked Order of Mice attacks, and the truth of her nutcracker pilot is revealed.

A Most Festive Yuletide Rated T

Several months into their arranged marriage, Captain Poe Dameron and his wife celebrate their first Christmas together.

A Dameron on Hoth Rated T

3 ABY and 35 ABY

The Dameron men spend time on Hoth, thirty two years apart.

Hit the Slopes Rated G

After her co-worker abandons her in a time of need, Rey Kenobi finds herself stranded without a clue at the top of Mount Crait - she has half a mind to take off her skis and clobber Ben Solo over the head with them when she gets to the bottom of this stupid mountain.

Luckily, she gets some advice from a handsome stranger.

Maybe skiing isn't the worst thing after all.

A Wish for Poe Dameron Rated G

Poe and Rey talk about wishes and fears on the eve of their final battle with the First Order.

The Greatest Gift Rated G

Rey's best friend is in desperate need of a kidney, and the perfect donor shows up - and then turns out to be perfect in all respects.

[tastyliltina]

Foalan’s bio

Here’s the bio for my dragon boy, Foalan!! 

BASIC INFO

Name: Foalan (Fway-lan)

Nicknames: Big snow, Snowy

Gender: Male

Species: South western Ice dragon

Age: Somewhere around the early 500’s? He lost count after the third century.

Birthday: December 21st

APPEARANCE

Height: Just shy of 160 feet

Weight: L a r g e

Build: Husky in both his human and dragon form, with big paws/hands and a long, heavy tail. Very muscled arms and legs.

Hairstyle: Messy and unruly salt and pepper hair that he tries to tame in his human form. In his dragon form, this is replaced with two horns that curl out and upwards. The same goes for Foalan’s human beard, replaced by small horns/spikes in his dragon form.

Eye color: Ice blue

Freckles?: Nope, but he’s got a few scars from fights when he was younger

Piercings?: Nope

Tattoos?: Nope!

Clothing: Normally loose, comfy clothes. Generally fluffy shorts without socks or shoes in his human form.

PERSONALITY

Upon first meeting Foalan, he’s kind and gentle. Very much a dad-like personality, meshed with a playful puppy. He’s curious by nature, and inquisitive. Though he’s been around a long time, there's a lot Foalan doesn’t know. He’s more than happy to learn whatever he can!

When met with a challenge, Foalan’s normally confident he can handle the problem. That doesn’t mean he’s not humble, but Foalan is confident in himself. If he is unsure about something, Foalan will ask. He has no qualms looking for help if he needs it, though he gets embarrassed when he needs to bother or inconvenience someone.

Since Foalan is big and can be intimidating, he finds it hard to make friends. As such, he’s clingy. This is why Foalan will eat a person/several people and hold them for a long time. It gives him a feeling of closeness, and reassures him there are people who trust and enjoy being with him. The only time Foalan avoids people is in the heat of summer or spring, where he tends to hole up in a cool place until it cools down.

LIKES

Cold foods, chewing ice, ice cream, popsicles, cool meat, chicken salad, potatoes (raw), water, winter, snow, rain, people, children, animals, and wind, chatting with friends (and in general), napping, relaxing, flying

DISLIKES

Hot drinks/soups, warm days, the sun, summer, spring, heat, salt, caffeine, still air, thinking about those he’s lost, people fearing him for his appearance, running

RELATIONSHIPS

Romantic: none

Friendship: Closest friend is Cy the toxic dragon! Other than that, Foalan tries to get along with everyone he meets.

Family: Long dead clan of ice dragons, though he wonders if he’s still got a few cousins around…

HISTORY

Foalan lived most of his life in the mountains with a large clan of ice dragons. When he got older, Foalan decided he wanted to see more of the world. Humans were just beginning to populate the mountains near his home. He wanted to learn about these strange little beings, and what they were all about. For centuries, he wandered the globe to try and study the strange, tiny lifeforms, and learned to live among them. Foalan saw wars, kings fall, kings rise, and empires built. Now he cruises along, making friends where he can, and avoiding fighting wherever possible.

INTERESTING FACTS

In verses where he is confined to/primarily uses his human form, Foalan is almost always a history teacher.

Foalan knows a lot of magic, but specializes in ice and water spells, healing spells, sleeping spells, and binding spells.

While he’s always wanted kids of his own, Foalan never got around to it. This is why he loves spending time with kids of his friends, and has told his closest companions he will keep an eye on their families if they pass away before he does.

In a fight, Foalan will rarely bite an opponent. (Read below on his “venom” to learn why.) Rather, Foalan prefers to use his sheer strength and body size to wear his opponent down. His thick hide makes him slow, but prevents him from taking extreme damage. Foalan’s preferred move is a dive bomb, where he flies incredibly high and dives, landing on his opponent with his entire weight. Foalan is also known to let an opponent land a few blows, assess the fight, then plan his counterattack.

Foalan doesn’t move quickly when fighting, as he tends to think each action out before executing a response. He keeps an opponent’s well-being in mind most of the time, and fights as respectfully as he can. However, if put into a corner, Foalan can and will fight dirty without question.

While his eyes are a weak spot, Foalan knows how to protect them when in a fight.

SPECIES INFO.

Ice dragons are known for their thick, powerful legs, as many of them live in more mountainous regions and must get around on foot. These legs are meant for gripping and staying close to the ground, not speed.

Their wings are strong and nearly impenetrable. This is where an ice dragon’s power and speed comes from. They are able to fly at incredible heights, and can swoop into almost 90 degree nose dives when flying parallel to the ground. Don’t let their size fool you, these dragons are adept flyers.

Ice dragon eyes can see well in rain or shine, and are meant to pick small animals out among rough terrain. Seeing on a flat surface is like a cake walk for them.

Though their nose is powerful, an ice dragon will rely more on their eyes than nose. This is because mountain dragons must accommodate for the wind, which can change and shift, throwing scents off without warning. At night, an ice dragon’s eyes glow brightly, reflecting off snow and illuminating their prey. Ice dragons also rely heavily on their hearing, and will use this if their eyesight is compromised. All ice dragons can hear pitches far lower than a human can, though struggle to hear pitches higher than a canine can.

Thick feet pads allow ice dragons to climb up and maneuver rough terrains. When pouncing on a prey or challenger, their paws will give without crushing whatever is underfoot. This is due to the thick tissue buildup on the paw pads, insulating heat to prevent frostbite and ensuring the dragon’s feet are not cut.

Ice dragons often have spikes/horns covering their bodies. This allows them to better handle attacks on their person. The horns/spikes always point away from the dragon’s head, and are shaped like hooks so they tear and rip when digging into flesh or bone. When angry, these horns/spikes shift so they are more exposed, and the dragon will move so they act like a serrated knife. This helps ice dragons when fighting, as an ice dragon will use their body as a weapon before using their ice.

While they do not have venom, ice dragon’s spit can serve as an accelerant for their freezing breath. This means, when an ice dragon bites down and exhales, the victim’s blood may freeze and the victim will suffer from mild to severe frostbite. Imagine getting liquid nitrogen injected into your bloodstream.

An ice dragon’s roar is deep and foreboding, and can echo for hundreds of thousands of miles. Another adaptation having to deal with winds.

Ice dragons’ internals are cool, but not cold. This allows the ice dragon to tolerate extreme temperature drops, and consume frozen meat without harming their insides. The internals have a low bioluminescent quality, which allows the dragons to see as they eat at night. Many ice dragons’ drool will glitter or shine in certain lights, due to the specialized ice crystals embedded in their drool. Don’t worry! These crystals aren’t activated until the dragon breathes over them and exposes them to oxygen (so being in an ice dragon’s mouth while they breathe won’t freeze you). The drool doesn’t feel cold unless the dragon wants it to feel cold.

The internals of an ice dragon are very soft. This is a sign of the dragon’s insulated body, and prevents their internals from freezing over.

An ice dragon will eat almost anything available, but have a preference for cold or raw meat when hunting. They prefer not to chew, and will consume most animals whole. This prevents the dragon from wasting energy on tearing and chewing, and allows them to get the most out of all that they eat. Ice dragons must consume at least a third of their body weight in water per day. This water fills a crop-like sack above their stomach, and is used to form the ice the dragons breathe. The water sack is NOT the ice dragon’s crop, and is an entirely different organ. Both the water sack and crop look like smaller stomachs, but both are oxygenated and do not contain any acid.

Many ice dragons, especially those with powerful magic, have human forms. These forms are primarily used in the summer and spring, when it becomes too hot to maintain the heat of a dragon form. The same anatomy rules apply to the human form as the dragon form: stocky build, thick legs, good eyesight, cool internals, glowing eyes, and soft hands/feet. Most ice dragons prefer to walk around barefoot, and despise wearing shoes. (Granted, it is very difficult for an ice dragon to find shoes that fit.)

All ice dragons can maintain their human forms for months at a time, but must eat extremely fat and protein-rich foods to keep their energy up. If they cannot eat enough to hold their forms, they will resort back to dragon proportions. Their water intake can slack, as their body doesn’t need to store as much water in this form.

Heat, salt, and blindness are an ice dragon’s primary weaknesses. Heat prevents their ice from forming, and salt dehydrates their water supply. Taking out their wings is another good way to prevent them from fleeing or using their divebomb fighting style.

[queenslasharchive]

For so many years have gone, though I'm older but a year

Freddie reincarnated AU, with snippets of once Poly!Queen. :D (Just as trashy and horribly sad as it sounds). Features Queen’s ‘39.

 Chapter 1: For my life still ahead, pity me.

“Don’t you hear my call though you’re many years away Don’t you hear me calling you Write your letters in the sand For the day I take your hand In the land that our grandchildren knew…" 

Beauregard LaCroix walked out to meet-and-greet the guests after the second act, still dressed as The Sugar Plum Fairy.

An oddly androgynous Sugar Plum Fairy.

It was the end of Nutcracker season, Hell-incarnate for the Royal Ballet. Beau was one of the only principal dancers not out on injury and the show must go on, even if that meant trussing up a baby-faced androgynous boy like a pink sweets fairy and having him dance the pas de deux with a pretty male soloist on pointe. Then so be it. (It wasn’t desperation, they were just being ‘inclusive’.)

Inclusive, his ass. Beau was just the youngest, smallest and the only male principal who could go up on pointe without it being a joke. Ergo, the only one who could easily pass for a girl with long blonde ringlets.

“The Sugar Plum Fairy? …From the Land of Sweets, I presume?”

Beau turned with his stage persona mega-wattage smile already in place, expecting to see the children that the warm voice had been humoring. He wasn’t disappointed by the sight of an elderly man with two small children, a boy and a girl. Both at the age that made hiding behind trouser legs the perfect disguise.

He bent down with a little bow.

“Why yes, ’tis I! Who do I have the honor of speaking with?”

“I’m Alexander.” The little boy spoke softly, a thumb trying to inch its way back into his mouth. “She’s Freddie. This is our Grandpa.”

He was cut off by his sister with a, “Are you a real fairy? Like Tinkerbell?”

Beau had no qualms about nodding, allowing her to swipe some glitter from his cheeks, calling it fairy dust. She squinted at the back of his sparkly costume to see if she could see his wings, he told her they were invisible while he was tall. (When he was Tinkerbell-sized, they were enormous.) She and Alexander were transfixed, believing every falsehood that came out of his mouth.

“Do fairies believe in space? My Grandpa studies it.” Alexander sounded so proud, as Beau assured him that oh yes, how else could fairies fly home to Neverland? They needed the second star to the right to guide them and the planets to mark their way.

When Beau raised his big blue eyes to look up at the beloved Grandpa in question, he spied a familiar smile in that head of incorrigible snowy white curls. He knew that beautiful face once, before the lines took over, knew that body and those incongruous warm hands. Before age softened his middle and jawline and those liver spots stole the property of freckles on his skin. Beau knew that nose, those eyes, the quirk of those caterpillar eyebrows.

For the first time in his life, nineteen-year-old Beau LaCroix looked into the face of Dr. Brian May: astrophysicist and former guitarist of Queen.

For the first time in twenty-five years, Freddie Mercury looked into the face of the best-friend and lover he’d left behind.

They just so happened to be one and the same.

-X-

Beau was a fussy baby.

His fathers’ had already raised up three rough-and-tumble little boys before him, yet their youngest was on a different level of difficulty. He was forever unhappy.

Not even the screaming sort of unhappy, that they could’ve dealt with. No, Beau’s was the kind of unhappy that left him sniffling and crying into his stuffed animals at night. As if he was forever looking around for someone or something that wasn’t there. It was a deep visceral sadness that clung to him.

Even after he grew into a sweet little boy with 3c blonde curls and fair skin, covered in so many big moles and birthmarks that the other kids in kindergarten called him a dalmatian, the sadness stayed. He would run and play and laugh with his brothers, but there was always an aura of age around him. Wisdom and sadness that oozed from him beyond all else. Even when he was smiling, with that quirk of covering up his mouth with his hand, the smiles never reached his eyes.

It scared his poor fathers something awful, but what could they do?

Beau was just an odd little boy.

A child with a man’s eyes. Who could lie on the carpet and color with fat wax crayons for hours on end. Drawing out snatches of beautiful scenery and people they’d never met, with skills not often attributed to children his age. They just assumed he was talented and imaginative.

He would vividly describe places that he had never been, like a lovely place in Switzerland called Montreux or a tiny studio in Munich, Germany. They just assumed those drawings and stories were the product of far too many hours of children’s programing. Beau couldn’t possibly be remembering a life he’d never lived. 

(Even if he did wake up with these horrible night terrors, screaming about how he couldn’t breathe. Or his inability to be alone in the dark or in small confined spaces. Once his brothers zipped him up in a sleeping bag as a joke, the poor little boy was so shaken up afterwards that he didn’t speak coherently for days, just staring straight ahead and warbling in an odd language that none of them knew).

The small family moved to New Orleans when Beau was six, it was where Adamien (Beau’s Papa) had grown up, and where there was a big extended family waiting around every corner of the French Quarter.

Kit (Adamien’s husband and Beau’s Daddy) had been apprehensive at first, but the boys seemed to enjoy the new haunts and change of scenery, all things seemed to be going to plan. Damie’s family could finally meet the kids and they could grow up as warm and loved as Damie had. In a beautiful, burgeoning multicultural society. (Where the birthmarks and moles on Beau’s body were the least of everyone’s concerns).

The kids: Charlie, fifteen and far too smart for his own good, Baptiste, thirteen and the family’s sensitive little peacemaker, Henri, the then ten-year-old demon he was, and Beau, six and as shy as could be, flourished like flowers reaching for the sun. Damie’s family enveloped the tiny clan with all the joy and acceptance in the world. An endless clutch of cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents charging into their lives with open arms.

The matriarch of their large loving family, Mama Delia, was a Voodoo Queen, one of the most well-known in New Orleans. She took one look at her youngest grandchild and understood.

“He remembers, poor bébé.” She crooned, Beau curled up in her lap asleep, as she rocked them back and forth in her creaky old patio rocking chair. Her grown son had simply looked confused. “What do you mean, Mama?”

“Those reborn never remember their pasts, maybe they keep a few quirks after a traumatic death, but your poor bébé… he remembers all of his. He will have a very hard life, mon chou.” A very hard life.

Little Beau slept on in her honeysuckle grip, flyaway curls falling in front of his closed pacific eyes. Dreaming of a life that ended a long time ago, a life that he never really forgot.

-X-

Beau screamed the first time he got into Kit’s record collection and happened to pick up Queen’s News of the World album. Really and truly screamed.

The young father assumed it was because the robot on the front must have looked scary to those soft seven-year-old eyes.

But his poor tiny son was just sobbing his little heart out, running his fingers over the characters in the robot’s hands. Still dressed in his sweaty leotard from ballet class, tears smeared across his flushed pockmarked cheeks.

Kit gingerly scooped up his heartbroken little boy, pressing a halo of kisses into his youngest son’s sweat-dampened fairy blonde curls. “Oh, angel. It’s alright. Those are just the band members. That’s—“ He was about to list them, but Beau cut him off, softly.

“I know, Daddy. Roggie’s on the back, Deaky’s on the bottom of the front bit, but me and Bri are still in the robot’s hand. I died first…” His thumb rubbed over the cherry-red blood stain splattered across Freddie Mercury’s chest. Warm, fat tears fell and slid off the cardboard cover in rivulets.

Kit froze, eyes wide as his distraught son curled up into his neck.

“I miss them… Daddy, why did I have to die first?”

The eyes of a dead man looked up from his child’s round splotchy face and Kit felt his heart stutter in his chest.

-X-

When Beau sang, it felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest.

It hurt, in a way nothing had ever hurt before.

Even the time he jumped off the school swing-set at Henri’s urging and broke his ankle.

When he sang, (because of all the things to carry over to his next life, it would be his voice), the pain in his chest was worse than the normal sort of pain. It felt like he was being smothered with a handkerchief full of chloroform, having it shoved it down his throat to torch chemical burns down his esophagus. When he sang, his pacific-blue eyes closed and he was back to being fully himself again. He was back playing at the Rainbow in ’74. Twirling on stage at Live Aid in ’85. Looking to the side to see Deaky bopping about, brunet head tossed back with bliss.

Roger opening his mouth to let out that dog whistle pitch, a challenge that was only evident when they jammed together, him rutting and jiving with Roggie’s drum kit. Making the blonde imp laugh and mimic his frantic movements with equal gusto.

Then trusty Brian on Red, looking at him like he was something truly special. One of a kind. Their Freddie. (He had never loved being anything more).

It was always awful when he opened up his eyes again, to look in the mirror and see a lost little child with Shirley Temple pin curls and chipped black-lacquered fingernails on one hand, skin dotted in the dozens of birthmarks and moles he hated. A mockery of the man he used to be.

Who was he supposed to be now?

His first life was over.

And his second was only a pale imitation.

-X-

He remembered his own death.

-X-

He studied cosmology and astronomy for Brian.

It sounded silly, he knew.

But there was just something about looking up into the sky and seeing all those stars beam back down at him, that made him feel anchored to this new life. Freddie Mercury had never had a head for numbers. So Beau didn’t either, but he still remembered Brian taking them out with a shitty telescope at Ridge Farm as he was writing that space song of his.

Whenever Beau struggled, whenever it all felt too much. That was what he remembered, what he used to guide him. His polaris.

He heard Brian’s warm soft-spoken voice in his head. Thick and creamy as pancake batter, the ones his Papa could make from scratch.

‘That’s Argo Navis. It’s Jason’s ship, the one from Greek mythology.’

He had hummed, curling into Brian’s bicep and holding on like a limpet. ‘Jason and the Argonauts’. Yes, he knew about mythology, even back then. (He had named himself Mercury after the god, after all).

There was an asteroid named after him.

17473 Freddiemercury.

He’d cried when he found out. Cried until he was blue in the face and drowning in his own body all over again. Oh Maggie, why?

When all I ever did was ruin your life?

Darling, I can never apologize enough for what I did to you.

To everyone I ever said I loved.

-X-

Once he had a spot at the Royal Ballet, he started visiting Jim’s grave quite frequently.

Leaving little parcels and trinkets behind, flowers too. All his husband’s favorites. He never allowed himself to stay too long. He wouldn’t sully his husband’s grave with his presence, not the way he had once sullied his life.

He knew what Jim would say to such thoughts. His sweet, long-suffering Jim, who had always accepted his every idiosyncrasy and oddity. His every mistake. Including the one that he’d bloody passed on.

‘Freddie, love, stop. You didn’t know, there’s nothing you could have done. I had a long, happy life. Go out, live your own.’

As if he wasn’t in purgatory.

As if this wasn’t a new form of Hell.

Living in a world that remembered him. With his friends getting on in age, Brian and Roger were still touring, the two old queens still rocking away. But they didn’t know him with this face, this body. He was a stranger. And if he told them? If he tracked them down and bared his soul like a lamb to the slaughter? They would never believe. He would simply hurt them in an entirely new way this time. And it would be all his selfishness to blame. Just the same as the first time.

His sister was still alive, with babies and grand-babies of her very own, his little Kash. He ached to hold her in his arms again, just one more time, but he knew such dreams were lost on the wings of butterflies. Lost to the sands of time. Just as he should have been. Oh, how he wished he’d just stayed dead.

It was better than continuing on as he was.

John, oh Deaky. (Did he even deserve to use that name anymore, after all he’d done?)

He had stolen Deaky’s passion. The thrum of a bass had been in that boy’s devil heart long before Freddie, long before Queen. But with his loss, the world had lost the sound of John Deacon’s fabulous strumming heart. And Freddie would never forgive himself. Beau would never forgive himself.

Sometimes he wondered where Freddie stopped and Beau was meant to begin.

-X-

He tried to kill himself once. (Well, he’d thought about it).

He was going to do it too.

Didn’t see a point anymore, living a shade of another life.

Stared at that bottle of pills until the long scientific name blurred in front of his eyes. (Roger would have known what it was, Roggie, his Rog. Beau had watched those interviews, the ones about how Rog had been driving, almost there. Poor Phoebe had broken the news to him behind the wheel of a car. …Roger breaking down every time he talked about it).

Beau didn’t do it.

This life was his penance.

He deserved to hurt.

Just like he’d hurt them.

-X-

Brian came back again, to the Ballet.

Just as Beau was finishing up a performance of Swan Lake, still dressed as Odile. The Black Swan. Yet another female character he’d found himself playing. Dressed in all black garb, a feathered tunic that flared out at the bottom, black nails on one hand (his own constant addition), and a pair of dying black pointe shoes that he’d torn to pieces. His dark gnarled crown crested above his curls and he was allowed to wear his spots without the makeup he so often used to cover them. He felt naked.

Even more so when he found Brian waiting for him.

“Hello, Sugar Plum Fairy. Or shall I say Odile? Mr. Black Swan?”

“Beau is fine. Beauregard LaCroix.” Freddie. Brian, it’s me. “I suppose we didn’t have a proper introduction last time, Dr. May?”

“You know my name?” Honestly surprised. Humble Bri. Beau made sure to pour more New Orleans into his words, careful to not slip into the British intonation he’d always preferred.

“Doesn’t everyone? Where are the children?” His eyes searched out the familiar round faces. Yet couldn’t locate them in the crowd. A flush climbed those lined cheeks he once knew so well. Oh.

“I came alone, actually.”

“Ah. Well, why wouldn’t you? I’m quite the show stopper, if I do say so myself.” A put-upon showman’s grin twitching to life on his painted lips. “But dear, I can get you free tickets. You needn’t go broke trying to see me. In fact, would you like my number? Maybe we can have coffee sometime.”

What are you doing? The voice in his head screamed. He isn’t yours anymore.

Brian’s smile was like a breath of fresh air. Oh how he’d missed that lovely smile.

“I’d like that very much.”

-X-

“For the earth is old and grey, little darling we’ll away But my love this cannot be For so many years have gone though I’m older but a year Your mother’s eyes from your eyes cry to me…”

Comment: Ohmylooord, this is only the introduction and it’s already the best ever! It has so many ‘openings’ to new dimensions and storylines, there are so many little hints and details as to what happened and what will happen next, and I can’t wait to read the rest of it! It’s briliant like we’re used to from @waywardrunawaycherryblossom ^^

[animationnut]

Time Travel

I just want to say that my love for Dakota and Cavendish is beyond words and their interactions with Milo are perfect and I really hope we get to see plenty more of their little trio in the future.

“Where are all these people going?”

Dakota lifted his head from his magazine to glance out the window, where swarms of people of all ages where spilling down the sidewalk and heading seemingly to the same destination. Cavendish inched their vehicle along, the traffic coming to a near stand-still to accommodate the flow of pedestrians.

“Dunno. Maybe there’s a sale on somewhere. We should check it out.”

“Most certainly not,” scoffed Cavendish. “I don’t want to be anywhere near that mob. Holiday crowds are horrendous.”

“Yeah, that’s part of the fun. Let’s see what’s goin’ on.”

“Oh, very well,” replied Cavendish, who couldn’t help but be curious himself. He managed to find a parking spot on the side of the road and pulled over. The pair of time travelers stood on the snowy curb and Cavendish stopped a passing woman. “Excuse me ma’am, could you please tell us where all of you are heading?”

“Oh, it’s the Christmas Tree Light-Up Ceremony,” she replied cheerfully. “Pretty much the whole town turns up for it!”

“Thank you very much.” Cavendish turned to Dakota and said, “Really, all this fuss for a tree lighting ceremony.”

“Ah, don’t be a Scrooge. We should go, it’ll be fun.”

“We have work to do,” said Cavendish pointedly.

Dakota raised a brow. “What, cleaning Renaissance-era toilets?”

“The pistachios! We have to make sure the pistachios go extinct if we want to avoid a future of plant monsters!”

“Oh, that. I’m sure there are pistachios being sold at this thing. We can step on ‘em.”

“Well...I suppose we could take a look.”

“Look out!”

Cavendish and Dakota turned their heads to see the bulb from the streetlight across the way shattering against the road, sending glass spraying in various directions. Dakota grinned. “Hey, Murphy’s here too!”

As everyone ran away from the scene, Dakota and Cavendish walked towards it. Milo was sitting on the metal bench, watching the people file by with a smile. The smile brightened when he caught sight of the two men coming to see him.

“Hey Dakota! Hey Cavendish!”

“Hello Murphy,” greeted Cavendish.

“Hey Milo, what are you sittin’ around here for?” asked Dakota. “Apparently there’s a big shindig happening.”

“Yeah, my neighbourhood’s tree lighting ceremony,” said Milo. “It’s really pretty. At least that’s what I’ve seen from the pictures.”

“You mean you’ve never seen it for yourself?” asked Cavendish in confusion. “But you live here.”

“Well, I have seen it once, when I was little,” amended Milo. “But it didn’t go so well. The tree caught fire and got destroyed and everyone was really upset. I haven’t been back since.”

Milo turned to glance after the crowds of people, a hint of wistfulness in his eyes. Dakota frowned. “Were you barred or somethin’?”

“Nah, nothing like that. My parents decided it might be best until I was older before we tried again, but I thought it would be better if I didn’t. A lot of people look forward to it and I didn’t want to ruin it for them.”

“You cannot help Murphy’s Law,” said Cavendish. “Really, the incident could not have been that bad.”

“Why don’t we see for ourselves?” Dakota jerked his thumb towards their time vehicle across the street. “What do you say, kid?”

“Sure!” Milo sprang up eagerly from the bench. “My family always says it was a spectacular disaster, but all I remember is a fiery blaze.”

Cavendish sent Dakota a glare. “Are you mad? Having two Milo Murphys in one place will most likely affect how the event occurs.”

“We’ll be fine,” dismissed Dakota. “We had two Murphys in one place before and all that happened was that you got hit with a peach.”

“Where the devil did that peach come from?” muttered Cavendish, mostly to himself.

“Anyway, I got the keys.” Swinging them on his finger, Dakota started across the street. “Let’s go.”

“Wait a moment!” Patting his pockets frantically, Cavendish demanded, “How did you get those?” When Dakota only sent him a smirk in response, he muttered, “Insufferable.”

...

December 12th, Eight Years Ago

Milo pressed his face against the backseat window, observing the surroundings of his town from his childhood. “Hey, I remember that statue!” he exclaimed. “Dad crashed into it a few summers ago. Er, a few summers after this, anyway.”

Dakota parked the car and they all filed outside. “We need to find somewhere to observe the incident, somewhere that’s not part of the crowd,” mused Cavendish.

“We can go to the roof of town hall,” suggested Milo. “The tree is right in front of the building.”

The trio took the back way to get to town hall in order to avoid the main crowds. They climbed the ladder attached to the back of the building to get to the roof. Milo was the last one up and as he neared the top the screws securing the top of the ladder to the building suddenly snapped out of place, causing the ladder to tip backwards.

“Whoa!”

“I gotcha kid!” Dakota grabbed hold of Milo’s arm and hoisted him up to the roof. “There ya go.”

“Thanks!” Milo glanced out into the crowd, spotting his sister and mother near the front. “Hey, there I am!”

Dakota followed Milo’s gesturing finger, which indicated a tiny six-year-old Milo perched on his mother’s shoulders. “Aw, you were cute. What happened?” he teased, pinching Milo’s cheeks.

“Same thing that happened to you--old age,” joked Milo, batting away Dakota’s hand.

“Ouch. Way to hit me where it hurts.”

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to our annual tree lighting ceremony!”

The mayor’s voice boomed across town square, amplified by the microphone. “It’s starting,” said Milo in a hushed voice.

“Why are you whispering?” asked Cavendish in bemusement. “They can’t hear you.”

“First I want to thank our hard-working committee for finding yet another perfect tree and gathering all these beautiful lights. Without them this tradition of ours wouldn’t be possible!” The mayor paused so he would not speak over the audience’s appreciative clapping. “And I want to thank you all for coming out to help celebrate the holidays as a community. Your support and spirit is appreciated. Boys, let there be light!”

The switch was flipped and the towering pine tree erupted into blue and white lights. The crowd ooed and aahed as the soft glow washed over them, reflecting off of storefront windows. They twinkled on the branches, glittering against the silver and blue bulbs dangling from the tips. The star on top shone a brilliant white, which could be seen from blocks away.

Dakota idly scratched at his chin, observing the Christmas tree. “It’s nice and all, but everyone really makes a big deal about this?”

“It’s hardly worth the excitement,” said Cavendish with a scoff. “It looks like any other Christmas tree.”

The microphone the mayor was holding started to spark and hiss. He shouted and tossed it away from him, where it landed near the trunk of the Christmas tree. The sparks caught on the branches and it erupted into flames, the fire shorting out the lights. As the electricity went down, plunging houses and businesses into darkness, the star exploded. Jagged pieces rained down and fizzled into the snow, some of them crashing into cars. One pierced through the side of a van, the sparks igniting the fuel tank and it was engulfed by an inferno. This caused a chain reaction with the rest of the cars parked on that side of the street as the flames reached them.

“So that’s how it caught on fire,” exclaimed Milo after a moment of awed gazing. “I always wondered.”

“Now that is spectacular,” declared Dakota. “This is way more exciting.”

The crowd was getting as far away from the tree as they could, and a portion of them strayed closer to town hall, so that trio were able to hear what they were saying.

“The Murphys are here, aren’t they?”

“I thought Martin started staying home after the raccoon-woodpecker debacle?”

“It’s just their boy, Milo. Cursed like the rest of the Murphy males.”

“Why do they have ruin everything?”

Dakota bristled. “I oughta--”

“It’s okay!” said Milo quickly, the smile he put on not reaching his eyes. “Really. Murphy’s Law isn’t just hard on me, it’s hard on anyone I come across.”

“That doesn’t give them the right to speak about you in such a way,” said Cavendish firmly. “Really. A curse. How ridiculous.”

“You don’t think I’m cursed?” asked Milo.

“Of course not,” said Cavendish in surprise, “if it wasn’t for you we never would have been able to defeat the Pistashions.”

“Yeah, we’d have been sunk without you,” agreed Dakota. “You can adjust to any situation, no matter what Murphy’s Law throws at you. I’d like to see anyone else try to deal with half of what you go through.”

“Aw, thanks,” said Milo gratefully, smiling sincerely now. “I don’t think its a curse. I couldn’t imagine living an average life. It must be so boring.”

“I think we’ve lingered long enough,” spoke Cavendish glancing at his watch. “We better get going.” He paused and glanced over at the edge of the roof. “Now just how are we going to get down?”

“I’ve got a rope ladder!” offered Milo.

“Of course you do.”

“Where do you want us to drop you off, kid?” asked Dakota as they started down the ladder. “Want to give the tree lighting ceremony another shot?”

“Nah, I’m good. It’s actually not as amazing as I thought it was. Probably because all I could remember was the fire and that was pretty impressive. Thanks for bringing me here. This was really cool!”

“Yeah, it was. See Cavendish? You worry too much. Everything went--”

The rope ladder snapped, sending the three careening into a snowy bank below. Sitting up, Cavendish removed his smudged glasses and sent Dakota a dry look. “I suppose you were about to say smoothly.”

“Rope ladders are usually sturdier than that,” mused Milo. “Guess I’ll have to get another one. Maybe Mom and Dad will get me one for Christmas.”

Dakota turned to look at Cavendish with a wide smile. “I ever tell you I really like this kid?”

“Several times. And I concur.”

[purrcraze]

When Do Maine Coons Get Their Ear Tufts?

Maine Coons are known for many things, including their larger than life personality and physical size. Their most distinguishing feature, however, may be their ear tufts. Some people will even doubt the pedigree of a Maine Coon if they don’t see these irresistible fluffs on a cat.

When do Maine Coons get their ear tufts? Most Maine Coons show signs of ear tufts as young as a few weeks old, but they don’t get their full coat until they’re about two years old. It should be noted that every breed within every species has variations in individuals, meaning any one animal can look different from the accepted standard.

Along with the popularity of any breed comes excessive and illegitimate breeding, and unfortunately the Maine Coon is no exception.  As a result, there are many Maine Coon owners curious of their cat’s actual genetics. Aside from buying a DNA test, there are a few ways you can tell if your cat is a Maine Coon or not.

Ear Tufts and Lynx Tips – The Difference

One of the oldest known American breeds, the Maine Coon has a coat to protect it from the harsh Maine winters. Ironically, the first Maine Coon cats had less defined ear tufts than our modern day house cats due to selective breeding.

What is often called an ear tuft is actually two different fur structures. Ear tufts are actually fur growing from the inside of the cat’s ear, while “lynx tips” are the pointed, and often colored, lengths of fur sticking up from the top of his ear.

The ear tufts on your Maine Coon are not just adorable, but also functional. The adorable wisps of fur that make this breed so identifiable actually keep debris out of their sensitive ears. Scientists also suggest that the fur helps filter and direct sound to their earway.

If your cat doesn’t have these long furs in their ears by the time they’re a few weeks old, they may never develop, but there’s still a chance! Maine Coon coats are not complete until they reach about two years of age! 

How To Identify a Maine Coon

Obviously one of the easiest ways to spot a Maine Coon are their signature ears. The fluffy inner ear combined with the pointed lynx tip is hard to miss, but that’s not all that makes these fancy felines stand out!

In fact, Maine Coons are often mistaken for wild cats like bobcats due to their size! Males are typically 13 to 18 pounds but often reach the mid-twenties. Maine Coons are the largest domestic cat breed aside from Savannah cats, which aren’t counted as “domestic” by all cat enthusiasts.

Not only are Maine Coons large, but so are their paws. Used for improved mobility in snowy conditions, their feet are large and full of fur. The larger the paw, the more surface area to resist sinking in snow. Many Maine Coons are polydactyls, meaning they have an extra paw pad, giving them even better mobility in the snow.

Yet another practical feature of the Maine Coon is their bushy tail. These cats can keep themselves warm by wrapping their tail around their faces like a scarf. The light and fluffy tail can also help prevent the cat from sinking deeper into snow.

One common myth about Maine Coons is that they all have an “M” design on their forehead. While they may have this mark, it is not on all, nor is it exclusive to the breed. The marking described is actually just a feature of tabby patterns, which Maine Coons may have. Because of cross-breeding in the early history of the breed, there are many accepted color variations aside from tabby.

Pierre´s Maine Coon, Maze, doesn´t have very strong ear tufts/ lynx tips

Keep in mind that genetics are not fully controllable. While most cats of one breed look the same, one can suddenly be different. This makes this cat no less a member of his “breed”; After all, genetic mutations are what have given us our most beloved breeds!

How to care for Maine Coon Fur

While the fur is one of the first things that draws people to these cats, it can also be more work than they’re prepared to put in. Be sure you’re ready to take care of one these beautiful cats before bringing them home.

Brushing –  Maine Coons have three different coat types. While the undercoat and guard coat are relatively low maintenance, the silky main coat can become tangled and matted if not regularly maintained.

Diet – Believe it or not, your cat’s diet can affect their coat quality. Providing food or supplements with Omega-3 and Omega-6 fatty acids will help improve the overall quality of their coats. If you find that your cat’s fur is dull or otherwise unhealthy looking, there may be an underlying health issue, so it’s best to check with your vet.

Bathing –  Most cats do not require regular baths, but may get into something that results in a mess! Luckily for Maine Coon owners, most love water, making them much easier to bathe than their feline cousins. Just be sure to use lukewarm water, a small amount of pet-friendly soap, and set aside a lot of time for drying!

Mats – As thoroughly as you may groom your cat, their dense paw fur can become matted and collect debris that needs to be cleared. Be sure to check your Maine Coons paws on a regular basis.

Other Distinct Breeds

If you’re attracted to cats with special fur features, here are some other breeds to check out.

Lykoi –   The Lykoi, or werewolf cat, is mostly hairless but has a shaggy silver coat on top, providing its signature wild look.

Devon Rex –  The Devon Rex is known not only for its extraterrestrial looking bone structure. These cats also have a distinct silky, yet curly coat that lays close to their bodies.

American Curl – The American Curl has a beautiful silky coat, but what makes him stand out is his ears. The name “Curl” doesn’t refer to his fur, but actually the shape of his ears, which are also tufted.  

Sphynx –  This regal breed isn’t known for its fur, but rather it’s lack of fur. The breed only has “peach fuzz” on occasion but is otherwise completely furless.

If you’ve just bought a Maine Coon cat, you can expect to see some beautiful ear tufts and lynx points within the first few months. Keep in mind, however, that not all cats meet their breed standards even if they are purebred. Regardless of the cat you choose, make sure you’re ready to take proper care of their coats!

Related Questions

Do all Maine Coons have ear Tufts?  The vast majority of Maine Coons will have their distinct ear tufts, but it is possible for a cat to be different. A Maine Coon mix will usually have not as strong ear tufts as a purebred Maine Coon from a reputable breeder.

Do all Maine Coons have an M on their forehead?  No. This is a common myth about the breed, but the “M” shape actually comes from the tabby coat type, which appears in other breeds. Many Maine Coons have tabby coats, but there are plenty of other coat types that would not include an “M” shape.

How can you tell a Maine Coon cat?  The first and easiest way to identify a Maine Coon is their size and their strong body. These cats are up to twice the size of your average house cat. You may also notice their tipped ears and extremely bushy tail.

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Phase 2 Meaningful Usage Steps And also Reporting Solutions

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Some folks find meaning through aligning with purposeful causes", usually those along with service-oriented or even socially responsible schedules. Use typical sound judgment when making use of a meaningful name including how effectively the name works with your last name and also whether the name will be practical and also pronounceable in a daily type of technique too. Linking and also determining along with the best people, with whom you could create purposeful relationship, is among the primary explanations for creating a prosperous, equally supportive network. Given that it is brief since this does not have very numerous terms because that is concise, the message is actually concise. The fad and also practice of delivering christmas times phrases is likewise rising but it possesses indeed became a popular method from communicating your affection as well as warm and comfortable festive desires along with the lovable phrases. 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Hilarious quotes are actually wonderful for utilizing as the punch line of a prank, however they are also able to brighten your time as you think of the fact or absurdity from what was actually pointed out. The motto responsible for the creation from these life quotes is actually to influence and also inspire the human race on the course from effectiveness. Today, there many sources on the web enabling you to earn your present more memorable and important by offering you along with assortment from xmas introductions phrases that could be incorporated along with your gifts.

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Teacher Presents That Qualify By Ronny D Sutton

Word tattoo designs are obtaining hotter as well as well-liked at presents, every tat aficionado wants to possess a part from that striking quick quote or purposeful phrases tattooed on one component of their physical body. Although there are actually numerous particulars to become analyzed, maintaining the cause for the party in the first place, your little one's rite of passage - his/her First Holy Communion, as the concentration will aid lead your choices as well as ideas. Only you will definitely recognize what is very most proper for your family members as well as this unique time, and that in itself, will definitely help you to plan an occasion that is private and also purposeful for your youngster and your visitors. 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Incorporate new, free internet information to your site like latest short articles, web devices, and prices estimate with a solitary piece of code! The daily uses from words in our usual phraseology are actually banners, signs or red flags from our basic state of mind. There are actually various other stunning guy Hindu titles to choose from along with numerous meaningful translations including Aashish (True blessing), Bijoy (Loaded with delight), Chiman (Curious), Deep (Light), Ekagrah (Focused), Gandhik (Aroma), Hardik (Full of affection), Jawahar (Jewel), Mitrajit (Pleasant), Navrang (Multicolored), Paran (Lifestyle), Rasul (Angel), Sadhil (Perfect), Tuhin (Snowy), Umang (Need), Vatsa (Kid), and also Yamir (Moon). Can state exemptions and also omission from particular goals set out in the Meaningful Make use of Clause through CMS, they are actually certainly not managed preferentially as for chronicling clinical processes making use of approved as well as up to date EHR software application is concerned: their accountability for stating professional information utilizing Accredited EHR Technology and EHR modules stays as obligatory when it comes to gps. You would be far much better off using your social media presence to sustain your social network attempts, where you can easily make up significant hookup with a smaller group from targeted people. Short operations may seem like the sort of factor men would be into as well as women will simply tolerate. Certainly, this infers that happiness is actually somehow intimately associated with making one's lifestyle significant. Meaningful Beauty's 30-day initial promotion is actually $29.99 along with a cash back promise. 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Her company aids professional women as well as men to describe as well as create meaningful work as well as craft important job control objectives.