#saw this in my drafts while going back to clean up a ficlet I started writing today

[theminecraftbee]

“I’m mom’s favorite,” Scar says cheerfully. “You know normally she’s less obvious about it but today—”

“You know that wasn’t mom, right?” Bdubs says, crossing his arms, closing his eyes, and tapping his feet. “Mom would never kill Etho like that.”

“She really would,” Scar says.

“No, Etho’s too good at PVP. That wasn’t Cleo. An imposter!”

Scar pauses.

“Ohhhhh. I mean I knew it wasn’t Cleo,” Scar says.

“What?” Bdubs says.

“I still want to call her mommy though,” Scar says.

“SCAR,” Bdubs says loudly as Scar giggles. He decides words will no longer work at that point, and tackles him.

[bittybattybunny]

Another late af Ruclipse month ficlet but w/e I have them all written it was just a matter of cleanings ketches buttt I wanna get these out of my drafts so enjoy

Anyhow Genderbend! Princess Prudence “Ru” and Fenrir the black wolf

Fic fic fic (and for the record yes Eclipse hunts the same way but she doesn’t strip as much.... as much.)

“OOF!” he gasped as his scarf was grabbed by the ghost and looked up with a lopsided grin.

“Hi Snatcher!” He laughed nervously.

She sighed, “What are you doing?” she thumped her tail on the ground waiting, “I want a good reason you’re running half-naked in the woods.”

“Oh I got blood on my shirt.” he admitted shamelessly and hit his chest, “I was hunting---”

She slapped her face, “FENRIR. What. Have. I. Said?!” She snapped, her fur ruffling angrily.

He paled, flinching, “Whaaattt? I…” he turned red looking away, “I saw a really fat deer. I wanted it.” he balled his fists as he pouted, “I saved the soul for you so it should be fine right?!”

She gave a weary sigh, “Fenrir.”

He looked away again. He sheepishly peeked back with a small grin, “Sorry Snatcher… I mean if it helps! I didn’t eat it raw!” he huffed proudly, “I-I know you like me to cook first!”

“I give you a point for that. Go get it.” she shook her head.

He grinned and tore off on all fours.

“AND PUT YOUR PECKING SHIRT BACK ON!” she shouted after. Her form shrank as he vanished into the trees and she shook her head with a sigh. She smoothed her hair back as she walked towards the destroyed home they used for cooking and pulled out a few pans and seasonings.

“Moronic wolf,” she mumbled as she set the items on the table.

She sighed as she leaned on the stones waiting annoyed. She saw him running towards the house with the deer limply over his shoulder. She puffed her cheek up as she saw his eyes widen.

“Princess!” he grinned as he threw the deer down, “Good…” he looked at the sky, “Evening?”

“It’s always evening and night.” she sighed, “Snatcher said you….” she looked at the deer and sighed, “Honestly. Fenrir.”

He scratched at his cheek as he tried to fix his vest, “I was just hungry.”

“You have food!” she cackled.

He smirked, “yeah but I like meat.”

“You’re meat.” she snickered.

“True!” he beamed, showing off his sharpened fangs, “But sometimes you just… have to enjoy the chase and the hunt!” he laughed, “I mean look at Snatcher! She loves her traps and teasing. Same thing.”

She paused in thought, “it’s not… She doesn’t kill for souls always.”

“Always is key. Sometimes she does.” he pointed out and laughed.

She huffed annoyed, “She’ll get mad if you laugh at her.”

“Will she, princess?” he asked as he leaned on the stones into the ghost’s face. She turned bright yellow and looked away.

He snickered, “Want to get her while I cut this up?” he pulled back to start stripping. Gloves, overcoat, vest, undershirt.

“DIDN’T YOU JUST GET DRESSED?!” she snapped turning bright yellow and covering her eyes, “SHAMELESS WOLF.”

He stared and folded his clothing up, “I did but. I don’t want to get them bloody.”

He knelt by the deer and flexed his claws before he started cutting into it barehanded.

The ghost sighed as she leaned on the stones watching The soul of the deer flickering, “You killed it too quickly the soul isn’t even attached.”

“Ah?!” he gasped, “Aww… I wanted Snatcher to get a snack.” he pouted, puffing his cheek up.

She gave a soft smile as she watched him work while pouting.

“I’m sure she’ll just steal some of the meat when it’s cooked,” she admitted. She couldn’t taste but she did like eating now and then.

“Yeah but that’s not filling for her…” he grumbled as he wiped some blood from his face. He stopped and licked the back of his hand. He placed a hand near his neck and rubbed the spot tenderly, “I’ll go lure someone into the woods after I finish with this.”

“Well it is in your contract.” she laughed.

He smirked, “Yup! My job as her assistant after all! Lure in folks, sort the papers, deal with high up things in the trees!”

“And you do a good job.” the former princess admitted, “She’d be lost without you…”

“I doubt that.” he huffed as he stood up. He brushed some leaves from his pants and wiped the blood from himself best he could. 

She watched and grabbed a towel throwing it. He caught it with a big toothy grin.

“Thank you, Princess Prudence.” He beamed causing her to blush.

“Yeah.” she smiled as he wiped the remainder. She frowned and floated over. She grabbed the towel to wipe his face.

“Missed some.”

“Saving it for later!” he jested as he leaned into her cold hands with a smirk and licked her nose.

Her hair fluffed up and she looked away as he laughed.

“Thank you, Princess!” he grinned again and moved to get dressed, “I’ll be back in a bit! Let Snatcher know the deer is ready when she is!”

“I will.” she waved as he took off. She sighed looking at the carcass and shook her head, “What a fool of a man…”

[albinokittens300]

Hemostasis Phase

Pairing: Platonic Jacob and Bunty Friendship, rated K+/PG for mentions of a burn wound.

Summery: Bunty comes to work the day after the group returns from Paris with question, and Jacob realizes there could be a lot of healing ahead.

A/N- So, this was originally supposed to be a very sweet, romantic Jacob/Bunty ficlet but...turned into this after several drafts. As well as became longer than I initially expected, and I think most critically got moved way up from being set about a year after CoG in my first draft to...a day later in the final. But I am actually not upset about the change it went though, and like the end result for sure!  Have some healing and platonic Jacob and Bunty friendship for your day, everyone :). 

Bunty is still slightly shocked when she returns the next morning for work to find one of the men that had returned with Newt sleeping on the couch. The one with a mustache and brown eyes that introduced himself as Jacob the night before. He had only seemed to take off his shoes and outer coat before covering up with a quilt in the living room. Trying her best to be quiet as possible and let him sleep, she walks past him.

But it seems she fails as she makes her way to the kitchen of Newt townhouse to make tea- something which Newt always allowed Bunty to help herself too. Jacob stirs and jolts up, clearly panicked, but seems to calm when he finds it is just her.

“Oh, morning.” He says. Blinking and rubbing sleep from his eyes. Sadness and exhaustion seeped from his voice.

It doesn’t shock her. Newt explained they had all lost someone in Paris, were all were hurting when she had inquired about everyone’s dark countenance last night. Jacob seemed to be no different from any other in the group of people. Like she had with the others, the assistant tried to be kind, and help them in any way she knew how without asking too much. Afraid to make their pain worse.

“Good morning.” She replies, trying to give him a genuine smile, before finding she has no excuse to stay there and crosses into the kitchen. “I’m going to make tea, would you like some?”

Politely he shakes his head no with a half-hearted but well-meaning smile in return and moves to stand and make his way to the bathroom off to the side. That’s when she notices a reddish-brown wound on his arms under the ripped sleeve of his shirt. Or, with a closer look, it is clearly a burn. Tina, the woman Newt fancied, had a bad scald on her hands the night before, and Newt himself mentioned needing to mend his burned jacket. But did no one look to heal this man in the group?

“You’re arm, are you okay?” Bunty asks.

The man then looks at the wound she drew attention to. Moving it even looks sore as she watches him while putting a kettle of water on the stove.

“Oh, It’s nothing.” He attempts to assure her.

“Please. Let me heal it? No sense in letting it hurt. Only takes a few seconds, a spell, and it will be almost like it never happened.” Bunty insists, pulling her wand out of a conveniently large pocket.

Looking at the wound, and at her worried expression, Jacob determines it is for the best to let her take care of the wound. It had not been the most serious or severe injury and thus had been ignored in place of everyone else who had been hurt. But it was still painful, and likely dirty at this point and Newts assistant, Bunty, if he remembered correctly, seemed willing to help. Which he was thankful for, as Jacob realizes the longer he is awake, the more throbbing begins.

Sitting down, he offers his arm as Bunty meets him in the middle. Taking a good look in silence, she leads him to the kitchen table and gets to work using some warm water, a cloth, and her wand. Slowly cleaning the wound without saying anything right away. Until Bunty decided to say something first.

“Nasty little burn. Must have been horrible, what caused it.” She says. “Newt hasn’t told me much...just that it was a massacre.”

Jacob nods. Grimacing when she starts to clean it enough for the tender skin to scream at her clothed touch. Quickly, she employs her wand to soothe most of the pain as she continues to work on cleaning it. When he can speak, Jacob barely can get the words out above a whisper. “Yeah...I didn’t expect to see people die when we went to Paris. Or to see her-”

Jacob pauses to stop tears from welling up or his voice from cracking. The image of Queenie walking through sapphire flames as he calls out to her as desperately as he could. If only he’d been more understanding? Could things have been different? It could be the guilt, but the man couldn’t stop thinking if he hadn’t said what he did, his Queenie could be with them now. Logic told him there were much deeper reasons Queenie did what she did, but it still felt to him like it was his doing.

“Did someone you know join him? Grindelwald, I mean.” She asks. “Newt- he mentioned that some people left with that madman, and you all had to find them.” Jacob saw her concern and couldn’t help but be warmed. Everyone was mourning Leta or Credence. Tina, the only one who shed a tear for Queenie confided in Newt exclusively at the moment.

“Yes. My fiancée, Queenie. She...sided with him.”

Bunty stops cleaning as she thinks of a response. Now using her wand and plenty of healing charms.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Some people, they don’t turn out to be who we expect. And they can end up hurting us.” She says. “But it is not your fault. Queenie made her choice, and you shouldn’t blame yourself.” Bunty ends on a hunch that, for whatever reason, he thought it was on him that this woman, Queenie, joined Grindelwald’s ranks.

He looks at her in the eyes and finds warmth and understanding there. There is a distinct feeling she comes from a place of knowing loss like this, or something similar. For a moment, he wishes, for the first but not the last time that Queenie’s memories wouldn’t hurt him so that maybe he could explore the rush of happiness and comfort he gets from her words. Jacob manages to somewhat genuinely smile back as a sort of thanks to her.

Bunty knows he can’t understand the way her own heart shattered last night when she came face to face with the woman Newt had carried around the photo of. The one she had seen him spend hours and hours writing to. Or the way she finally had to give up hope of the man she looked up to returning her feelings. But she hopes he can know what she’s been telling herself since; it will be fine, and life goes on without them.

“Your burn should be completely healed in a day or two.” She says. Wrapping his arm in a clean bandage before quickly mending the white shirt over it.

When she is done, Jacob asks if he can help her with breakfast as he sees her start it, explaining he is a baker and a cook by trade, and she happily allows him to help.

[whoinwhoville]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler Additional Tags: Crack, Maddam Doo Pompadoor, she who must not be named - Freeform, but not a character, Referenced - Freeform, and not in a good way, bad kissing technique, good kissing technique, Bananas, bananas are gooooooood, Humor Summary: Rose freezes his banana grove. And that's not a double entendre.

Notes: I’m cleaning out my drafts folder. I think this was a @timepetalsprompts​ a while back. “Frozen”? “Freezing”? “Ice”?

Brrrrr

Rose hears a string of angry words that the TARDIS isn't translating. His footfall is getting closer and closer until finally, he appears in the doorway to her bedroom.

His chest is heaving.

His glasses are fogged up.

His nose and fingers are red.

His blue shirt is covered with -- snow?

“What happened to you?”

He glares for a long while before he speaks.

“They’re frozen. ALL of them. Frostbitten. No not Frostbitten. That's not right. That arboretum is colder than the surface of Hoth!"

“I don't understand."

“The bananas, Rose. My beautiful bananas. It's like Woman Wept in there!"

"Don't cry, Doctor. Don't cry."

"I'm. Not. Crying. That is my frost-frozen hair melting."

He starts seething, sucking and then pushing the air back out through his clenched teeth.

Rose winces. This is never a good sign.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Rose Tyler.” He directs his long, slender finger in her direction. “You have hated that banana grove since the day I finished planting it. You know what I think? I think you turned on the air conditioning. To twelve. And that means ZERO KELVIN!"

"So I take that's really cold then?" She cringes.

"Oh yes. And furthermore, the climate cycle was set to tropical monsoon season! It's like walking through a slushy in there for the frozen fog! I-- I-- touched a tree trunk and the whole thing collapsed. Right in front of my feet! Shattered into billions of shards of ice!"

"Ha," she barked. "Sorta like those banana snow cones we got last week, then?”

"Snow cone? No. This. Is. A. Tragedy."

Rose lays a gentle hand on his arm. "Now calm down. You're gonna have a hearts attack. I may... strongly dislike that banana grove, but you gotta know that I'd never do anything to kill your bananas."

"Somehow I think that "strongly dislike" is a nice way of saying hate."

“I don't hate it. But it’s a bloody shrine to Versailles! You drink your banana daiquiris in the French statue garden. And instead of shrubs and bushes trimmed like little elephants you have banana trees shaped like... Like... More bananas! And you're always going on about bananas at parties! It's bananas this. Bananas that. Potassium, Rose! Bananas are goooooood,"she mimics his black leather voice while crossing her arms.

"Bananas are good! They are veryveryveryvery good. And furthermore, my banana grove isn't modeled after the gardens at Versailles. I have cultivated it in the Villengardian style."

"Looks like Versailles to me," she mutters. "You are obsessed with bananas. Freud would have something to say 'bout that."

They stare at each other stuck at an impasse.

"You used to love bananas. You gladly accepted any banana I had to offer," the Doctor says sadly.

"That was before you went and gave your brilliant banana daiquiri to her, not me." She turned her back on him and harrumphed.

"You're jealous of me sharing my banana daiquiris with the French Court?"

"YES!"

"That was our special thing, Doctor! We always had banana daiquiris by the pool after a hard day. And you go and share with them with-- with-- her! While I was strapped to a table ready to be carved up and bar-b-cued by walking clocks!"

A slow smile grows on his face. "You don't want to share me or my bananas." The Doctor makes a small, self-satisfied sound.

"Yeah. That and the snogging."

"You're jealous of both the banana daiquiris and the snogging?"

"Of course I am!"

"I wouldn't be. I’ll have you know, that woman was very strong. Felt like a Dalek was sucking off my face. But that's beside the point. My bananas have been flash frozen. And all of those lovely yellow skins. Brown." He pouts.

“Don't change the subject. Must have liked something about her face-sucking. I saw the whole thing from the other side of that time window. You looked like you'd just eaten the best banana of your life.”

“History, Rose! How many times have I told you? You have to immerse yourself! Kiss a stranger in Paris! But, her technique was terrible. And when I say terrible, I mean really, really awful."

“And did she taste of banana daiquiris?"

"I seem to remember you doing a bit of snogging, Rose Tyler. Remember that pretty boy you kissed on Reinodan? Crown Prince Ell-Inder?”

She sighed happily. “Yeah. He was a bit pretty wasn’t he? Really great kisser. Gorgeous lips.” She faced him directly. “He said that I tasted like ripe, juicy peaches. And now you are changing the subject."

"Peaches are clearly an inferior fruit," he says, ignoring her. "Just look at them wrong and they bruise. Can't put them in a pocket for a party. Now don't get me wrong, Rose. I'm not saying that you are inferior. In fact, I would say that you are the perfect banana in the fruit basket of humanity."

"But when a peach is perfectly ripe, nothing is quite as tempting."

"You kissed the prince."

"And you kissed the king's Little Bit on the Side. I'll take the prince, ta. I was saving your sorry bum, kissing him."

"And a brilliant job you did. While you were skillfully distracting the prince so that the rebels could escape the palace, I observed your technique. Strictly for science, of course. Perfect balance of pressure and release, tender nibbling and roughness, not to mention you neither hoovered nor tongue-tied him.”

Rose gulps.

"You saved my life with one brilliant snog.”

Rose’s cheeks redden.

“Bananas. Great source of potassium, yeah?” She laughs nervously.

"So we are back to the reason I was looking for you in the first place. Bananas."

"Right. Doctor, I'm sorry about the grove. I really didn't mean any harm. I was only trying to play a joke on you. Thought it'd be funny to see you get caught in a cold snap."

“You know, I got those banana tree cuttings in Kyoto."

“Kyoto?” She fiddles with her earring.

His grin is now wicked. "I assume you remember Kyoto. We had banana daiquiris there, too."