#you run at him and flops on the floor for a belly rub

[tipsyleaf]

Imagine pregnancy cares with Leon…🥹🥹

You’re hungry? He’s running to the store at 3:00 AM to make you some spicy noodles with a side of pickles. Your feet are swollen? Put your legs up on his lap and let him massage those feet! The baby won’t stop kicking your ribs? Well they’ll get a stern talking to! >:(

I feel like Leon would definitely not let you do one single thing around this house, hell, you couldn’t even get up to grab a glass of water anymore. He’d carry you around the house like a little princess, setting you down in bed and tucking you in, kissing you goodnight like you were a little kid. Talking to your belly in the middle of the night, telling it random and silly stories, acting like your baby knew what the hell he was talking about.

Don’t even get me started on your bump, he’d looooovvvveeeee that big ol’ belly of yours. When you wore those pretty flowy sundresses because you refused to wear pants during the last month or so of your pregnancy, how those dresses would show your bump (and your melons, wink wink👀) off were definitely the best parts. You were the prettiest thing in the world to him, even more now that you were carrying his child.

If only I could give him that cute domestic life he deserves…

- Anon! 🎀

Oh my God, I love domestic Leon so much... He deserves that typical white picket fence life.

So there's conflicting resources online so I'm just gonna make an assumption here. July-December is when most babies are born. So far the same of a time line we'll say you're due in September.

So it's like the dead ass middle of July. Hot as balls and it's 3am. You want spicy noodles and pickles. (You're usually craving) But when you go to the kitchen they're both gone. You just grab an otter pop from the freezer, and head back to bed. The bed dips under your weight as you sit, adjusting your pillows before you lay back. The window AC is at that perfect angle where it's hitting you enough to make you chilly as you curl up with your snack and blanket.

Leon rolls over in his sleep, putting his arm around you and pulls himself closer to you with a groan. Lifting his head without opening his eyes, you know what he wants. Leaning down you give him a kiss. He sinks back into his pillow, tongue jutting out to wet his lips.

"Why... Do I taste cherry?" He opens his eyes, looking up to see you already drinking the juice from the clear package.

"No noodles? No pickles?" He questions, turning on his back as he takes in a sharp yawn. Rubbing away the sleepy gunk from his eyes.

"We're out." He turns his head, watching you look at the empty wrapper in disappointment. He sits up without a second thought, still groggy as he grabs his wallet off the nightstand giving you another kiss before he stands up. Slinking out the door in his pajamas.

30 minutes he comes back with fresh made spicy beef noodles from your favorite late night Korean dinner and a jar of pickles the size of a baby. An you bet you scarf those things down while he watches you like your his whole world. This goofy smile on his face while you slurp up glass noodles and glance at him.

"Wuh?" You say through chews. He chuckles, shaking his head.

"Nothing babe, just eat your noodles." He moves in getting comfortable. Rubbing your lower back and belly at the same time while talking to the baby until he eventually falls back asleep with his head on your thigh.

SUN DRESSES WITH A BABY BUMP WOULD MAKE THIS MAN GO FERAL! There's this thing about pregnant women that men find attractive because their instinct is to detect fertility and protect. Which is insane as is...

But when it's your own partner? Oh boy.

He thought you were beautiful in sundresses before but now it's just heightened!

It's getting harder to bend and pull things up with an entire human being inside of you so you resort to the old reliable method. Dresses. Everyday.

You wobble out of the bedroom with your flip flops. Dropping them on the floor you slide them on. Ready for a day at the beach together before the baby comes. The dress is a shade of blue, slightly low cut but really showing off the girls with how much you've blown up during pregnancy.

Leon's outside fighting with the chairs trying to get them in the back of the car and fit the cooler at the same time. Already breaking a sweat and they haven't even left the driveway yet. You walk out, watching him fight for his life against these chairs and finally he gets the trunk to shut and he sees you. The first thought that crosses his mind was:

oh shit... She looks that good? Do we have to leave the house?

Followed by: That's mine, she's mine. Carrying my baby inside her... And looks that sexy doing it. Maybe we should have another kid right away after the first one...

His brains going in overdrive before you tell him you're getting in the car. He quickly comes around, helping you buckle yourself in and shuts your door for you.

The entire day it's hard for him to not be constantly touching you. He usually just guides you by a hand on your back but he's got you pulled close, a hand on your thigh, giving you kisses more frequently. Even going for an ass grab or two without caring if anyone is looking.

And you bet your ass the second you two get home you're getting a shower together. Just to make sure you get all the sand off of course (👀)

[jeridandridge]

Puppy Love

You and Melissa unexpectedly get a puppy.

When you leave Melissa’s house to head to work you have to put your wipers on full speed while you lean forward keeping your eyes and ears alert because of the pelting rain. You knew Melissa would be okay in her truck, but you’re relieved when you get to the school already seeing it parked.

Sitting in your car for a few minutes debating if you should get out and make a run for it, you see something small and fluffy shivering next to a box near the dumpster. You put your headlights back on and squint seeing what you think is a little puppy.

“Shit.” You huff turning the car off and moving as fast as you can in the downpour. Head down you try not to slip on the slick cement as you get to the dumpster. “Hi, baby.” You smile at the scared puppy. Taking your jacket off you move forward and grab the black and brown creature, the both of you totally drenched.

Wrapping the puppy up you hold it against your chest as you run up to the door letting out a breath when you get into the school. “Okay, it’s okay baby.” You hum drying him off as best you can with your jacket. You’re shivering yourself, the October air mixed with the rain chilled you to the bone. Walking down the hall in your now squeaky shoes you get to the teachers lounge meeting Melissa’s eyes right away with a soft smile through your chattering teeth.

“My lord, y/n, what happened?” Barbara gets up, Melissa hot on her heels coming over to rub her hands up and down your arms.

“I p-pulled in and saw th-this puppy.” You laugh through a shiver nodding to the shaking bundle in your arms, his little ears flopped to the side.

“Of course you’d save a puppy, hon.” Melissa smiles as Jacob brings you a blanket putting it around your shoulders.

“It’s not a towel but it’ll work.”

“Thanks. He was h-hiding in a box.” You explain trying to dry the puppy off more.

“Looks like a German Shepard.” Melissa comments moving to your side.

“He was outside in a box?” Barbara asks.

“He was under it trying to avoid the rain.”

As you talk to Barb Melissa helps dry you off, scrunching your hair with the blanket causing Jacob to look curiously between you two before his eyes go wide.

“Maybe Mr. Johnson can watch him for me until the end of the day.” You hum trying to come up with a plan.

“Let’s worry about getting you warm before you worry about the dog, hon.”

“It’s just rain.” You smile with a little shiver, enjoying Melissa’s touch. Normally you stay clear of each other at work wanting to keep your relationship quiet until you’re both ready to tell people.

You stand closer to Melissa almost leaning into her, still feeling the cold deep in your bones while the puppy cuddles into you, his head tucking under your chin. Giving your girlfriend a soft smile you know you two will have to talk about keeping the dog.

“Cmon, bring the gremlin to my classroom and I’ll give you one of my back up shirts.”

You follow Melissa out, her hand on your lower back.

“So do they still think we don’t know?” Jacob asks Barb who sits at the table with a smirk.

She can only hum.

-

“I know a pet can be a lot but I couldn’t leave him out there, Mel.” You explain setting the small bundle down on the floor next to her desk.

“I know, Tesoro. It’s how you are.” She smiles pulling a soft sweater out of her drawer, the puppy wagging its tail at her.

“Oh no.” You laugh watching the small bundle of fur burrow into your jacket.

Melissa hands you the sweater then the coffee thermos from her desk with a smile. “You warm up and I’ll keep this one entertained.”

You were glad there was still a half hour until the kids got there. You quickly get out of your wet dress shirt shivering when the air hits your cold skin.

As you dry your hair a bit more you smile watching Melissa sit at her desk with the puppy in her arm.

“Definitely a boy.” She says rubbing the pups belly.

“What do you think? German Shepards are loyal, very protective. They remind me of you.” You smile.

Melissa gives you a goofy smile cuddling the puppy. A smile that says you two now have a pet.

-

The next evening Melissa comes home from work to dim lighting and the tv playing softly. She smiles coming over to see you and little Franklin asleep on the couch, the puppy tucked into your hoodie. Reaching out she puts the back of her hand to your forehead checking for any lingering fever. She knows you didn’t mind catching a cold after the previous mornings events, especially now that you both get puppy cuddles.

[nyxindustries]

Interruption | Tony Stark

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Tony Stark x reader , Tony Stark x female reader

Warning: 18+ story, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Smut , Dom Tony Stark, Sub reader, nipple playing, fast burn, explicit language and content, intercourse.

| Part 2 | Masterlist |

Stepping out of the elevator the smell of home just hit you making you close your eyes in relief and exhaustion. Although this it’s quiet which isn’t usual for three Avengers Tower. Opening your eyes as you see the one and only Tony Stark sitting on the couch with a tablet.

“Oh Hey, your home,” Tony says, making you nod and placing your briefcase down.

“Yes, I am….where are the others?” You ask as you sit next to him quietly unbuttoning your suit blazer.

“They wanted to see the movie about the elements, Peter voted what movie they should see. I opted out so I have been working on blueprints for the new Iron Man suit I want to build now.” Tony says as he flashes the tablet to you.

“Oh, nice.” You say as you tried relaxing but you couldn’t, you had too much to think about. Tony glances at you as he sighs.

“How were the meetings about us?” Tony asks, making you chuckles softly.

“I have never been more yelled at for our actions than today. I got yelled at left and right by high-ups. We need a system and I have to come up with that system. It’s hell.” You say as you rub your temples gently as you lean forward on the couch. You work for SHIELD but you assist Avengers on missions as an agent while also being their liaison so you speak for the Avengers when need be.

“Go get some rest. I don’t expect the others to be back for a while. I gave them my bank card, so they're going crazy.” Tony says with a laugh making you smile.

“So I get uninterrupted sleep for a couple of hours, say less.” You say as you get up slowly slipping your heels off. Tony watches you from the corner of his eye as you go to grab your stuff.

“Hey, don’t bother…I’ll bring it to your room later, just go relax. “ Tony orders at you, making you hunch your back a little. “Thank you. I’ll be in my room if you need anything else.” You say gratefully for him at the moment but the burning inside your belly said a different story, desire.

Ignoring the burning feeling you wanted to just deal with as you close your eyes and begin walking down a hall as you strip your blazer jacket off. Entering your room everything just fell from you soon after. Your hair went down, Your blazer fell straight to the floor.

Your body is tense probably with the lack of it, and your mind racing with everything from the meeting. The feeling you deeply tried your best to ignore, being ignored for years now filled you. Flopping onto your bed as you crawl into a ball you just close your eyes but not going to sleep. Flipping on your back as you let your hands run against the tanktop you're wearing.

Taking a shallow breath as you swallow hard, now your mind is going to one thing. ‘Maybe this is what I need’ The tension builds up as you let your hands run underneath your tank top quickly.

Your hands wander to your dress pants as you quickly unbutton them. All your senses are leaving you now. You’re so desperate for it, ripping your tank top and pants off and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

Your hands slip underneath your red lace underwear, and the tip of your fingers, touch your throbbing needy bud.

Massaging your bud slowly but at a steady pace as the sensations shoot through your body making you shiver to your core.

Your other hand pulled one of your breasts out of your bra and began teasing and pinching your nipples with pleasure as you began rubbing your clit faster making you moan a bit louder.

Feeling yourself getting more and more wet as then slip your fingers in making your toes curl against your sheets.

“Fuck” you moan out as you began thrusting your fingers in and out quicker

Moans escaped your lips as you got faster as you took your other hand that was massaging your breast to your clit as you began massaging your clit, trying so hard to reach your high and you knew the only way is thinking of a certain someone.

“Oh god…Mmm yesss Tony please..” You moan out loudly as your breathing hitches and Tony's name kept falling out of your mouth.

What you didn’t hear was your door opening. “Hey, do you want Chinese foo-….OH!” Tony's voice rings out, scaring you as you quickly cover yourself.

“Tony!” You say as you turn bright red and he stood there quietly as he looks away from you.

Tony swallows hard as he steps into your room, closing your door.

“You were moaning my name,” he says and you took a deep breath.

“It’s not like that. I-I…I didn’t mean it and it just ca-..”You say as you watch Tony walk up to you.

“Shut up,” Tony says, catching you off guard as you look away quickly with A bright red face.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" He questions in a deep tone with a shake of his head.

Tony gently grabs your face as he squishes your face a bit, making you stare at him as he pushes you back onto the bed.

"I won’t repeat myself after this. Is there something you want to tell me?” He asks sternly, making your breathing hitch.

“I-I….I need you. I want you, Tony.” You say trying to take control of the situation before it got out of hand but your body screams for it to get out of and as Tony denies it, you knew this is what you wanted. “ I need you more," Tony growls as he spreads your legs to get in between them as he pulls your face in, kissing you roughly as you kiss him back.

Tony's hands slip underneath your panties as he slides them off, quickly tossing them off to your room somewhere. Letting him trail down with kisses as he went all the way down to your wet pussy to massage your clit. Watching him lick his lips as you felt his tongue against your clit suddenly.

Gasping out as moans began spilling out quickly as you felt two fingers pressing at your entrance. “Fuck” you gasp out, gripping the sheets as Tony's fingers slid in quickly. Letting one hand go to his hair as you grip it tight, pulling him closer.

Tony thrust his fingers faster as he began sucking your clit roughly to add more pleasure, he’s making you go crazy.

He going to finish you and that unfinished orgasm you couldn’t even finish due to the amazing interruption.

Tony sucking harder as you push yourself against him making Tony's face go deeper in you along with his fingers. Glancing down to see sight in between your legs that you thought you'd never see.

Your breathing getting faster as you felt a knot build up in your stomach, fuck you never thought his tongue and fingers do this much magic, you haven’t felt this good in two years. You didn’t even know you were screaming out “I-..I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Don’t you dare!” Tony orders as he pulls his face away and slowly slides his fingers out making you whimper at the loss of pleasure.

“T-Tony” you whine out

"Yes, baby girl?" He questions as he looks over at you before he unbuttons his pants quickly and puts his underwear done.

“Are you sure you want this?” Tony asks and you nod quickly.

“Because once I start, I won’t be able to stop.” Tony says huskily as he grabs your legs, pulling you in and to the edge of the bed. Tony standing over you as you look down at his cock. He’s big in length but the thickness of him is huge. The pre cum already slicking his cock.

Tony leans over as he kisses you the bites on your lip, “You look so fucking hot like this. I can’t wait to see you all destroyed.” Tony says into your ear making you smile as you kiss him.

Feeling his cock at your entrance, making you take a deep breath as he pushes in quickly. Kissing Tony to distract yourself as you're not exactly used to his size. Tony staying exactly still as he keeps kissing you and fluttering kisses all over your face and neck.

"Move” You quickly blurted out as you put your arms around his neck as Tony began moving his hips. Biting your lip as you stare up at him, making him smile as your mouth goes open, your eyes shut.

"Faster…I need you" You moan out grabbing at his back as Tony thrust faster you moan louder than way before.

"Shit…I always wanted you." Tony groans out as he grabs your legs lifting you as he goes deeper, hitting your g spot and making you scream out now.

Gasping out as more as your breathing hitched and you couldn’t end more anymore as you welcome the pleasure fog that covers your brain, your mind. Your eyes shut tighter as you scratch at Tony's back due to the pleasure as you begin clutching around his cock tightly.

"SHIT!” Tony yells out as he begins railing deep into you, making you twice as loud.

“Right there! YES!” You yell out as Tony grabs you by the hips and pushes you on him further as he continues to thrust.

"I’m going to..AH…"You cry out in pleasure as he continues roughly

“Come for me baby” Tony orders, making you nod as you feel the knot unravel quickly.

"TONY!" You scream out, that’s when you begin coming all over his cock as Tony groans out, pushing deeper in you as he starts cumming in you.

“Fuck! I’m sorry” Tony says as he stays in you as slowly pulls out.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill” You breathe out laying against the bed, motionless as your eyes close but you have a huge smile on your face. Tony smiles back at you as he gently slaps your pussy as you flinch in pleasure, He lies next to you.

Looking over to him as you smile softly and Tony slowly pulls you in. "You were amazing, sweetheart."Tony compliments, making you giggle softly as the tension just suddenly left your body, your mind at ease.

“How do you feel now?” Tony questions and you just smile.

“Way better than before” You sigh out with contentment.

"Good, I would love to keep it that way. You all relaxed.” He says, making you look at him.

"Tony…are you-...”

"Yes. Yes, I’m asking you out." Tony cuts you off and clarifies with a huge smile on his face.

“.....Yes and it better not be because the sex is good.” You say yawning softly, placing your head on his chest.

“No…it’s because I like you a lot…always have,” Tony says making you blush with a huge smile on your face

“Me too.” You shyly giggle out.

“Oh! I know with the way you were moaning my name before I even joined! I mean- WOW!” He says and you laugh instantly rolling his chest.

“Oh god! Shush!” You cry out playfully as your head hits the pillow next to you and with that such came from you.

“I’m getting sleepy.” You say and Tony nods as he pulls a blanket over you and wraps his arms over you.

“Rest up, You deserve it.,” Tony says with a smirk as you begin falling asleep, in his arms.

[foolondahill17]

"Sam, wake up!"

Sam jolts out of sleep, grogginess clinging to him like spiderwebs. He jostles Eileen beside him, and her eyes startle open. She's more trigger happy than he is, and Sam automatically stills her as she reaches for a knife on the bedside table beside her alarm clock and Kindle.

"Wazzit? What's wrong?" Sam mumbles to Dean's shadow overhead, backlit by the doorway letting in a triangle of light across the floor.

"Sam!" Dean clutches Sam's shoulders, knuckles white, tremors running down his arms and into his fingers like he's charged with electricity. "Something happened. It's about Cas."

The name of the angel blows the rest of Sam's sleep away like a hurricane. Eileen reaches for the lamp. Sam frantically blinks away the sudden brightness.

Dean's crouched over him, face a blotchy mix of flushed and pale under his two-week's worth of rusty whiskers and disheveled hair, bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat where it's grown longer than John Winchester’s military-sanctioned length in the last ten months. As usual, there's a faint smell of alcohol on Dean's breath. There's a wide, damp circle around the neck of his t-shirt. He doesn't exactly look okay.

"Cas," Sam says. "Right. You – you found something?"

It's been nearly a year since Cas was taken by the Empty. It's not as if Sam's stopped looking for a way to get him out, it's just that he's stopped searching in the middle of the night. By the amount of whiskey Dean downs before bed, Sam assumed his brother also reserved research to daytime hours.

"No!" Dean says. His eyes are wide and almost fever bright. In fact, everything about Dean gives off the impression of illness: from the gray circles under his eyes to the full-body shakes. "No – you don't get it. I found him. I found Cas."

"Okay." Sam’s spine cracks as he sits up. "Where did you find him? You mean you figured out how to get into the Empty?"

"No – dammit – Sammy!" Dean leans away, runs one shivering hand through his hair so it all stands up straight, a mimicry of how he used to style it every morning before Cas died and Dean stopped caring about anything – getting out of bed or eating or even the Impala. "You're not listening. I thought it was a dream, at first. Or a – a hallucination or something." Dean laughs nervously. "But it was really him. I swear it."

"Cas came to you in a dream?" Sam repeats slowly, trying to understand. Beside him, Eileen watches Dean with the same badly shuttered alarm that Sam's sure must paint his own face.

"Yes. But it wasn't a dream. I mean – it was. Sorta. You remember he used to do that? He would speak to us in dreams."

"He used to speak to you in dreams, yeah," Sam says. "But that was years ago, when he was a fully powered angel."

Dean laughs again. Rubs his hair again. "Yeah," he huffs. "Definitely not all systems go, that's for sure. That's part of the problem, huh, buddy?"

Unease simmers in Sam's belly. "Um, part of what problem?"

"Cas explained," Dean replies "Slipping out of the Empty took nearly all his grace. And then he needed to, you know. Fix me. After that, he needed a safe space to land for a while and, what the hell am I doing with my life, anyway? It wasn't even up for debate. Hung jury, right, Sammy? Or, ah, the opposite of that. One for the money. Two for the show."

Dean speaks a mile a minute. Sam hasn't heard him string so many words together at once in months, and certainly never sober. All manner of possibilities jump to the forefront of Sam's mind, all of them more dire than the first: a mental breakdown, study drugs, cocaine. Dean's never been the poster boy for 'Just Say No.'

"You're not making a lot of sense, man," Sam says.

Eileen interrupts, significantly calmer. "Slow down, Dean. I can’t keep up."

"Right," Dean says. He breathes, choppy and uneven like he sprinted down the hall. "Right. Sorry. Yeah – sorry." He barely slows down, but now his hands flop in front of his chest in nearly illegible sign language, fingers shaking too hard to do Eileen much good. "Cas came to me in a dream. Not a dream. You get the point. And he's alive. Get it? Sam – he's alive, okay? He's back. I talked to him. And he needed someone to – and I thought – Hell, I'm Michael's prom dress, right? All stitched up special for an archangel, so it ain't like a regular flyboy is gonna rip my seams. So of course I said yes. I mean, it's Cas. What do I care if he's inside my head? He’s not gonna go all mech on my ass. He's good like that. He's – he's Cas."

Every word out of Dean's mouth makes Sam's apprehension grow stronger. He exchanges a look with Eileen. Her eyebrows are raised under her sleep-tousled hair.

"Okay," Sam tries. "So you talked to Cas." That's one thing he knows for sure Dean said. "And Cas is out of the Empty."

"Dude, yes. Aren't you listening to me?"

It occurs to Sam what the most unnerving part is: Dean is smiling. Sam can't remember the last time he saw Dean smile. Beneath the frenetic, shivering energy, the nearly unhinged glint in Dean's eye and sickly pall, he looks – not happy. But ecstatic. Almost euphoric.

Sam swallows. "You talked to Cas. He's alive. And now he's – and where is he now?"

"Dude, come on!" Dean rolls his eyes, letting out an explosive sigh like he would when Sam was a little kid and unable to keep up. "I told you – he's possessing me!"

Read on AO3: hold this space

Summary: Evil post-canon fic where Cas possesses Dean, but his grace is too weak to demonstrate to others he's possessing Dean. And the possession somehow occurred without anyone else around, so Sam and Eileen are just convinced Dean's finally cracked and begun to speak to a Cas that no one else can see. Up to you if Dean's actually being possessed by Cas or if Cas is, indeed, just a hallucination brought about by impossible grief.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Watch and Learn, City Boy (Taylor's Version)

Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI

Pairing: Sergeant Hound x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: fluff; SMUT; oral sex; PIV; playful partners; sex in a tent; dirty talk; Grizzer has seen some shit.

A/N: This was originally written for the Writer Wednesday week 1 challenge, and if you'd prefer to read a smut-free version, you can find it here. If you like spicy lemons, keep reading!

Want to read more Hound goodness? Check out this fic by @imarvelatthestars

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“Remind me why we’re doing this, again?” Hound grumbles as the two of you wrangle a pile of tent poles and canvas.

“Because the hotel didn’t allow massiffs,” you say, grunting a bit as you struggle with the heavy tent.

Technically, the hotel doesn’t allow clones, either, but you leave that unsaid. You had booked the room, paid the pet deposit, and traveled from Coruscant to Alderaan, only to be abruptly turned away at check-in. Before you left, you told the hotel concierge your opinion of their corporate bigotry, and now you are also banned for life. And so here the three of you are, setting up an ancient, decrepit canvas tent that you dug out of your parents’ attic.

Well, technically the two of you are setting up the tent while Grizzer explores your campsite, sniffing the lush greenery of Alderaan with interest. The massiff is accustomed to the hard plastcrete and rancid smells of Coruscant, and you wonder if she’s ever been in nature before.

“Relax,” you say. “I did this all the time growing up. It’ll be fun!”

“Sleeping in the dirt and eating rations is your idea of fun?” Hound asks.

“The tent has a floor,” you point out, “and believe me, we can do better than rations.”

Eventually, you wrestle the tent into submission and get two bedrolls laid out inside. The scent of old canvas, saturated with woodsmoke and memories, pulls you right back to your childhood: camping under the stars, swimming in the lake, lying in the sand and exploring the world around you. You can almost hear the shrieks of laughter and your father’s deep baritone as he sings a lullaby to you and your siblings.

You hang up a few strings of twinkle lights, and then, satisfied with the cozy little retreat you’ve created, you go back outside to get a campfire started. Hound is standing with his arms crossed, looking decidedly unimpressed with the entire situation.

“Has it occurred to you that there are wild animals in these woods?” he asks. “Gree told me about the wolf-cats of Alderaan.”

“Grizzer will keep us safe,” you reassure him. “Won’t you, girl? Who’s my sweet baby?”

Grizzer wiggles happily over to you and nuzzles into your chest as you squat to scritch behind her ear holes.

“Grizzer, have some dignity, for kark’s sake,” Hound says. “You are a soldier of the Republic, not a pampered lap-tooka.”

Grizzer ignores him and flops onto her back to beg for belly rubs. Seeing the way you fawn over the massiff, Hound can’t help but smile, remembering the day he met you.

“Grizzer! NO!” Hound chased after the bolting massiff as she charged an unsuspecting civilian in the middle of Monument Plaza. Grizzer had yanked the leash out of his hands and was running full-tilt through the scattering crowds. Too late, he saw her target: you. You were standing in the sun, laughing with a street vendor, and Hound would have taken a moment to appreciate your beauty if you hadn’t been directly in the path of certain doom. “Grizzer!” he shouted again. “Heel!” You turned toward the commotion with only a few meters between you and the charging massiff. Hound fought the urge to close his eyes before Grizzer launched herself and savaged you, but then something completely unexpected happened. You called out a word in a strange language, and the massiff skidded to a halt in front of you. You allowed her to sniff your hand, and then you pulled something out of your pocket and offered it to her. She took the treat and licked your hand as Hound finally caught up, heaving with exertion. “Sorry, ma’am,” he panted. “She slipped her leash. I don’t know what got into her.” You smiled up at him, and his heart thudded with more than just adrenaline when he saw the way your eyes sparkled. “She just smelled the treats,” you said with a shrug. “We always had massiffs when I was growing up, and I never got out of the habit of carrying a few treats in my pockets. I hope it’s all right that I gave her one; I really didn’t want to lose a hand.” In that moment, Hound knew he was utterly lost.

“Awww, is Daddy grumpy?” you coo at Grizzer as you rub her belly. “Is he a Cranky McGrumperson? Is he spreading his grumpy energy all over our campsite because he’s afraid to get his hands dirty?”

You shoot Hound a teasing look, and he stalks over to you, pulling you away from Grizzer and into his arms for a kiss. You sigh happily. You’ve been seeing Hound for a few weeks now, and you were hoping that a romantic trip to your home planet of Alderaan during his shore leave would give you an opportunity to take things to the next level. You had booked a room at a posh boutique hotel with a luxurious soaking tub and an incredible view of the mountains. Who knew the hoteliers would turn out to be gigantic dicks?

So you made a quick change of plans. You had been worried about Hound’s reaction to the idea of camping, but your other option was to take him to your parents’ home and sleep in your childhood bedroom, which… No thanks. Not the ideal setup for the intimate weekend you are planning.

You break away from Hound’s kiss feeling lightheaded. He’s an excellent kisser, and as you’ve discovered over the past weeks, a man who can kiss like that will bring a similar level of skill and enthusiasm to the bedroom (or the bedroll, as the case may be). Now all you have to do is coax him out of his sullen mood.

“Did I mention I happen to be an amazing cook?” you ask, fluttering your eyelashes.

His interest is immediately piqued. “How are you planning to cook out here?”

“Watch and learn, city boy,” you say with a grin.

One hour, two shaak steaks, and four bottles of ale later, Hound’s temper is remarkably improved. 

“Where did you learn to cook over an open fire like that?” he asks.

“My dad taught me,” you say as you pull out a deck of sabacc cards. “I told you we used to do this all the time when I was a kid. You in?”

He nods, so you shuffle and deal. 

“Your dad sounds like an interesting man,” he says. “Too bad he wasn’t home when we stopped by to get the camping gear. I’d like to meet him.”

You laugh, “Trust me, it’s better this way. You might be ready to take down the entire Separatist army, but you are not prepared for my parents’ boyfriend interrogation.”

“Boyfriend, is it?” Hound asks, his brown eyes twinkling.

“If you play your cards right,” you say with a smirk.

You play a few hands of sabacc, betting with pebbles since Hound doesn’t have any credits, and when it gets too dark to see the cards, you decide to change into pajamas. Grizzer goes into the tent with you and immediately flops down on a bedroll. When you’d packed for your trip, you were planning to be spending your nights in a luxury suite, and your choice of sleepwear was not exactly suited to the great outdoors, so you regretfully tuck away the lacy little chemise. You strip out of your clothes and pull on a pair of short shorts and an old Alderaan University hoodie—the best option you could find in your old bedroom at your parents’ house. 

When you leave the tent, Grizzer stays behind. Hound watches you with an unreadable expression, and you worry that he’s still not having a good time. It’s time to break out the big guns.

“Are you ready to have your mind blown, trooper?” you ask with a flirty look.

He sits forward immediately. “What did you have in mind?”

You bend over and rummage through the bags of groceries you’d bought on your way out of Aldera. When you straighten up, you notice his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. You toss him a packet of marshmallows.

“What are these for?” he asks.

You hand him a stick that you scavenged earlier in the day and teach him how to toast the marshmallows over the coals of the campfire. Hound’s immediately catches on fire, which you assure him is part of the experience. 

“It’s not a real s’more if the marshmallow isn’t at least thirty percent carbon,” you say.

You show him how to sandwich the resulting crispy, molten marshmallow in between layers of chocolate and sweet biscuits, and the bliss on his face when he tastes it for the first time makes the entire trip worthwhile. You haven’t eaten s’mores in years, and you’ve forgotten how rich they are. 

“I think I can only eat one,” you say.

“Not me,” he says. “I’ll eat the whole bag.”

You give him a delighted smile, pleased that he’s finally come around. Hound has such a sweet tooth. All the clones do, he tells you. Something to do with their enhanced metabolisms, and the fact that they rarely get to eat anything other than ration bars and bland mess hall food.

“These are incredible,” he mumbles around a bite. “Messy, though.”

“I can help with that,” you offer. You raise his hand to your mouth, licking the melted chocolate and marshmallow goo off his fingers. “After all, we both know you don’t like to get your hands dirty.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. He swallows audibly. “You know, I take it back. Maybe camping isn’t so bad after all.”

You stand up and tug him to his feet, leading him to the tent. Inside, Grizzer has completely claimed one entire bedroll for herself.

“I guess we’ll have to share,” you say, already planning what kind of treat to give the massiff as a thank-you.

“Oh, no, anything but that,” Hound murmurs as he draws you close to him, running his hands down your back to squeeze your ass. “You know, with the lights on in the tent, I could see everything when you were changing.”

“Everything?” you ask, tipping your head back to gaze up into his beautiful amber eyes.

“Well, maybe not everything,” he admits. He slips a hand inside your hoodie to caress the bare skin of your back. 

“Maybe we should turn them off so we don’t scandalize all those wild animals you’re so worried about,” you tease.

“Let them watch,” he says, pulling you into a searing kiss.

Your tongue brushes against his softly. He tastes like sugar and chocolate, and you melt into him. Your hands roam over his body, sliding the jacket down his arms, tugging at his belt. You silently thank the Force that he’s wearing civvies instead of his armor. Once you’ve gotten his trousers off, you both sink to your knees onto the bedroll so you can take his shirt off without hitting the low ceiling of the tent. 

You press him backward until he’s lying down, and you move to straddle him. You’re still wearing your shorts and hoodie, and something about being fully clothed while sitting astride the very naked, very aroused man is intoxicating. You trail your hands over his smooth, brown skin, tracing his tattoos and massaging the hard muscles of his torso. He raises a hand to cup your face, and you kiss the gnarled, twisting scar on his forearm—a memento of a training accident with a young massiff. You roll your hips against him, feeling the hard length of his cock pressing against you through your shorts. He slides his hands up under your hoodie, cupping your breasts before lifting the garment off over your head. The air is chilly, and your nipples stiffen instantly.

“Oh, fuck, look at those perfect tits,” he groans. “Come here, babygirl. Let me taste you.”

You lean forward, and he captures one of your nipples in his mouth. Jolts of arousal flash through you. His large, rough hands are warm against your back, and you can’t hold back a moan of pleasure.

Grizzer huffs an annoyed snort, and without looking at the massiff, Hound commands, “Grizzer, stand guard.”

She stands with a grumble and pushes out of the tent. You hear the heavy thump as she sits down outside the opening.

“Are you telling me you could have gotten that bedroll back this whole time?” you demand with mock severity.

“Where would have been the fun in that?” Hound asks with a smug grin. “Darlin’, you look hot as kriff in those shorts, but I think it’s time to take them off.”

He holds you against his body and flips both of you over in one smooth motion so you’re lying on your back. You let out a whoop of laughter at the unexpected movement.

“Shh, you don’t want the wolf-cats to hear you and come eat us,” he teases, nipping playfully at your skin as he kisses his way down your torso.

“That’s true,” you say. “I’d rather get eaten by a Hound.”

You raise your hips, and he tugs down your shorts, then lifts your legs in the air to remove them. Before you can lie back down, he kneels and drapes your thighs over his shoulders.

“Nice trick,” you say. “Is that the kind of quick thinking that got you into ARF training?”

“They only accept the best,” he says as he lowers his face to your body.

He dips his tongue into you, sliding over your clit and into your entrance without hesitation. You arch off the bedroll with a cry, and he lays a reassuring hand on your abdomen, pressing you back down as he feasts on you. With his other hand, he strokes up and down your thigh, finally coming to rest against your ass as he grazes his thumb over your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck, Hound, don’t stop,” you whisper.

“Hmm?” he asks, pulling away. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t think the wolf-cats heard you.”

“Kriff you, Hound, shut up and eat my pussy,” you laugh, tangling your hands in his long black curls and shoving his head back down. 

He chuckles against your clit and gets back to work. Between his clever tongue and his skilled fingers, he soon has you writhing and begging beneath him, and then he does something impossibly wonderful inside you, and you shatter with a hoarse moan, squeezing your thighs around his head as you grind against his mouth.

And then he is on you, sliding into your tight heat. He fucks you without mercy, wringing a second orgasm out of you almost before you finish your first. You hold on for dear life as he pounds into you, growling words of praise and filth into your ear.

“Look at you, beautiful girl, taking my cock like a champ. Love the way you wrap those soft, perfect thighs around me, oh fuck, sweetheart. So warm, so fucking wet. Come on, baby, think you’ve got one more in you?”

You nod weakly and let out an incoherent sound, unable to form words. He reaches down to rub your clit, pressing against your lower belly. Faster than you think possible, you feel your body winding in on itself again.

“That’s my girl, my pretty girl. Fuck yeah, baby, come on—kark, you feel amazing, oh shit,” he pants. “Give me one more, honey, before I fill your sweet little pussy up with my cum. One more for your grumpy daddy, come on love.”

“YES!” you scream as the tension in your body snaps again and you convulse around his cock, bucking up against him over and over until your head is empty and your body is swamped with bliss.

He follows you into his own orgasm, thrusting hard as he empties deep inside you and collapses onto you, breathing hard. 

“Fuck, baby,” he says. “You’re incredible.”

You lie that way for a long time, tangled together, until he raises himself off of you to lie on his side as he plays with your hair. You turn to face him.

“Daddy?” you ask with a tiny smile.

He shrugs. “It felt right in the moment. Did it bother you?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Just filing it away for future reference.”

He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead, and within moments, you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The soft light of an early summer morning filters through the canvas of the tent. You awaken slowly, feeling deliciously warm and safe. As you drift towards consciousness, you feel weight pressing against you from both sides, and you realize that at some point during the night, Grizzer has joined you and Hound on your bedroll, sandwiching you between her and the trooper. You are wrapped securely in Hound's strong arms, your legs tangled between his, and his fingers are interlaced with yours. You hear the melodic chirpings of avian-song outside the tent, and you snuggle closer to Hound, feeling his warm, even breaths against your shoulder, and lower, something suspiciously hard nudges against your thigh.

It may not be the romantic getaway you had planned, but this may be your favorite holiday ever.

---

Tagging: @blueink-bluesoul @secondaryrealm @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @imarvelatthestars

[gabessquishytum]

Ummmm, this might not be everyone's thing, so feel free to delete this ask if this is a squick or just not the vibe. [CW objectification, dehumanisation]

Dream treating warprize!Hob like an animal. He's Dream's pet, right? Which means that when he's acting out, it's probably because he needs more attention. When he's rude, he's surely just dissatisfied with his food.

The guards bring Hob to Dream after catching him trying to escape, and instead of punishing Hob, Dream coos over him and debates with his advisor Corinthian if perhaps Hob needs more enrichment in his enclosure, all the while ignoring Hob glaring daggers at him. The Corinthian then dumps a truckload of sex toys in Hob's room for enrichment.

Eventually, Hob leans into it, realising that he gets the best treats and the BEST sex if he plays along. He'll sit at Dream's feet and whine and whimper until the king sighs and pulls his into his lap, apologising to his guests, his pet is very clingy, probably due to being alone in the wild for so long. He fucks Hob right in front of the guests, and after three or four orgasms, Hob is ready to go back to napping at Dream's feet.

People are definitely encouraged to bring treats for the king's pet. Even toys, but they need to be really high quality. One time, someone brings a satin pillow that is already damaged, there are holes in the fabric, and Hob gladly takes it because the pillow is just the right size to prop him up comfortably in the position he's in, but Dream is mad that someone would give a damaged pillow to his beloved pet and tries to take it away. Hob understands what Dream is getting at but the pillow is comfy and he's not giving it up now, Dream can throw it out later and get him a new one before they return here. Cue Hob snarling at Dream when he tries to take his pillow away.

🚒

Oh I love love love objectification!! Hobjectification if you will!!!!

Hob loves being a naughty boy, because Dream is never really cross with him. He just pats Hob on the head and coos at him that it's OK, Hob is just a poor little puppy who doesn't understand what he's doing. He treats Hob like an untrained pet who just peed on the floor. And as time goes on, Hob starts to actually really kind of enjoy it and get turned on about it!!

He sleeps in his luxury pet bed at Dream’s feet. He eats delicious meals several times per day, he gets bathed and has his hair brushed with sweet smelling oils. He gets to climb into Dream’s lap in the middle of counsel meetings and court sessions. He has toys - stuffies and things to chew on and hundreds of sex toys. And of course his favourite pillow that he loves to hump whenever he can't get Dream’s attention.

He likes nothing more than rolling onto his back and showing his belly for Dream to rub. Dream is fortunately very easily distracted from his kingly work and he likes nothing more than flopping down on the floor and playing with his cute, dumb pet. Then he can carry Hob off to bed (or lead him off on his special leash, because sometimes Dream is tired and not in the mood to carry his big squirmy pet), relax from the business of running the kingdom.

Sometimes being cute and dumb is really the best way to live. Hob is very happy to spend the rest of his life flopped over Dream’s knee, tongue lolling out and cute arse on display for everyone to see!! <33

[threadsun]

sending u horny Alan thoughts bc you've inflicted me with them Terribly.

Instead of Alan going into a rut, Alan running into his Doe-eyes in a heat, watching them beg for him and present to him ass up, the way he'd drool and shake and hardly believe what he was seeing as his nails dug into the meat of their hips

Doe-eyes with werewolf!Alan having spent so much time around him that it triggers a heat- their very first one, something they didn't even think their body could do

Alan purposefully choosing the scariest possible movies to put on when Doe-eyes is over, burying his face in the nape of their neck to "comfort them", barely able to keep up with the plot because they smell the sweetest and most intoxicating when they're scared

Alan fucking Doe-eyes into the forest floor, pinning their hands above their head and making sure their flesh is striped with scratches from the brambled foliage, nails caked with dirt where they dig into the ground, desperate to find anything to ground themselves, dirtying them up so much they'd have no chance of cleaning up enough to face public scrutiny

Alan half out of his mind, leashed to the floor and muzzled, gnashing his teeth wildly and near howling with need as Doe-eyes sits in a chair just out of his grasp, legs spread wide for him to see exactly what he's wanting, so close he can practically smell their musk

wolf!Alan with a pregnant Doe eyes in his nest, pacing and growling as he stands guard, eyes hungry and crazed. hes lost everything to the instinct of protecting his mate and pups to be, gruff and haggard, only ceasing his watch to respond to the call of his mate, flopping around them with a satisfied groan, tiredly rubbing his cock along their lower back as he pants and holds their pregnant belly, cumming with a whimper and melting into the soothing brush of their touch tousling his ears.

more to come most likely im feral. hope these don't clog up your inbox/ irritate you 😖

🌊 anon

Hi hello hi yes hello yes hi hello hi hi yes uhhhhhhhhhhh can I get like a thousand more of these please????

I'm 👀😳👀 about all of these, werewolf Alan is sooooooo gooodddddd!!!!!!!

[trashyswitch]

Teasy Tickles on Floor 7

Luigi is locked in the bathroom by a slinker and a hammer ghost. Mid-fight, the ghosts find out a funny little secret about Professor E. Gadd's assistant, and happily exploit it.

This fanfic was suggested by an anonymous user. I hope you enjoy!

Luigi had made it to Floor 7, and had made it into the bathroom. Luigi had sucked up the trash can and used it as a wrecking ball to break the toilet, the front of the bathtub, and the sinks. Luigi then pulled on the green, spiky vine that was penetrating the window, killing it. After doing his little celebration dance, Luigi walked up to the door. 

But then…The door flashed purple as a purple, glowing gate revealed itself against the door! Luigi jumped back, to save himself from getting stuck in the gate mid-reveal. But worry quickly filled his face as he realized he was stuck in the room against his will. Then, Luigi began to hear what sounded like cat purrs, followed by leaves rustling. Luigi looked to the right and noticed a collection of brown leaves starting to float up and around the man. 

“Wha? Whoa!” Luigi reacted, seeing as the leaves circled around to his left, before moving in front of him, and over to the right again. When the leaves reached the right side again, that’s when the noise finally revealed itself! WAH! A big, purple, boxy ghost with two tails and giant fingers, had revealed itself to him! Luigi cried out in fear and froze in place, before slowly turning towards the wall and chattering his teeth as he struggled with the fear of yet another ghost…

Luigi finally started running around, trying to find the evil ghost. The room was stuffy and dark, which slightly hindered him. Running around, he tried to look for the purple smoke that filled the room in the right light whenever it moved. If there was purple smoke, then the slinker wasn’t very far behind. 

Luigi looked around and flashed a few different spots, in the hopes of catching the ghost off guard. But after one of the failed flashes, the ghost came up behind him and scared him! 

“WAAH!” Luigi screeched! The slinker picked him up by the Poltergust G-00’s red handle on the top, and started carrying the Poltergust, and Luigi, around like he was a handbag! Anxious to get out of the slinker’s grip, Luigi took those Poltergust's straps off his own shoulders, and fell to the ground with a belly flop. The slinker looked at the Poltergust G-00, and laughed at Luigi before throwing the backpack into the pile of leaves in the bathtub. 

Luigi got up onto his feet and ran to grab it. But suddenly, a big, red, boxy ghost had shown itself from under the leaf pile! Luigi shrieked and jumped back, before attempting to run away from it. But the poor man had run right into the slinker’s grip! 

Luigi shrieked yet again as he felt the slinker pick him up by the left arm. “WaaAAH! LET ME GO!” Luigi begged as he attempted to get his hand out of the Slinker’s grip with his other hand. But the slinker was much stronger than the boy had expected! 

Meanwhile, the red ghost had turned on the Poltergust purely by accident, before using it to remove the leaves that were covering his eyes! Though the Poltergust uncovered its eyes, it also sucked up a small bit of his face. Thankfully, with a few pulls, the Poltergust vacuum let go of his face and turned off. With his face free and uncovered, the red ghost placed the Poltergust G-00 down beside the bathtub, and flew up to Luigi and the slinker. 

Luigi squeaked and covered his eyes as best he could with his one hand while the red ghost looked him up and down. The ghost rubbed its chin as he looked at Luigi with much curiosity. Luigi slowly uncovered his eye by separating his index and middle finger, ready to re-cover his eye again if he needed it. 

Luigi blinked once, and screeched when the red ghost had gotten even closer to him in a single blink! Luigi pulled on his arm and tried once again to get his trapped arm out, but to no avail. And when the slinker saw what he was doing, he quickly picked up Luigi’s other wrist. Luigi yelped again and pulled on his other wrist, before muttering a fearful “Oh no…” for both ghosts to hear. 

While both the ghosts were laughing at Luigi’s conundrum, Luigi was pulling on his arms one at a time to desperately get at least one hand free. He tugged on the left arm, but to no avail. He tugged on the right arm, but it was no use. 

Then, the ghosts started talking to each other! And with only a few garbled words exchanged, Luigi was thrown up, caught bridal-style by the Slinker’s hands, and thrown towards the red ghost! The red ghost caught him bridal-style as well, before wiggling his fingers and letting out a low, evil laugh. 

Luigi screeched and wiggled around, scared out of his skin and praying his own wiggling would help set him free. But when the few seconds of wiggling didn’t work, Luigi covered his eyes and brought his knees slightly to his chest, just awaiting his doom at this point. 

This was it…He was done for. 

*Poke* 

“eEEK!” Luigi reacted, uncovering his face and pulling his legs closer to himself as he hugged his own stomach. 

“Oooooh!” The slinker reacted, pushing Luigi’s hands out of the way before poking the man’s stomach again. 

“WAH!” Luigi yelped, a slight wobbly smile showing up on his face before looking at the slinker. 

Seeing Luigi looking at him, the slinker started giggling and wiggling his fingers at him. Luigi widened his eyes and looked at the wiggling fingers with nervousness. Either this was just another scare-tactic, or the slinker was tickle-teasing him. 

Luigi looked at the red ghost with nervousness too, who was laughing evilly in his deep, bellowing voice. 

“Uhhhh…mercy?” Luigi said awkwardly. 

That was the last word Luigi managed to get out that wasn’t filled with laughter. Both the slinker and the hammer ghost started tickling the poor boy to bits. The hammer ghost was treating Luigi like a toddler and tickling his belly while in his arms, while the stinker was poking his left side and occasionally tweaking his left hip too. 

“MAMA WAHAHAHAHahahahaha!” Luigi laughed, wiggling around in the Hammer ghost’s arms. The Hammer ghost chuckled loudly and kept saying things to tease him. Though the garbled teases were embarrassing enough, the words sounded a lot like “Coochy coochy coo” and “Tickle tickle tickle”...Which was SO NOT FAIR! 

Amidst his laughing, Luigi’s hat managed to slide off his head and clap against the floor. When the slinker saw this, he eagerly grabbed the green hat and tried it on his own head. The Hammer ghost stopped tickling for a moment, but still had a good grip on Luigi. With this, Luigi started to calm down slightly. 

But when Luigi took one look at the slinker, he went beet red and covered his face with embarrassment. The slinker was wearing his hat and making surprisingly accurate imitations of Luigi’s laughter and giggles. It was so evil and so teasy. 

It just wasn’t fair! None of this was fair! 

The Hammer let out evil laughs of his own as he took the hat from the Slinker, and plopped it onto Luigi’s head. But instead of fixing the hat, Luigi pulled it off his head and used it to cover up his face. “Plehehease let me goho.” Luigi begged. 

“Awww…Is E. Gadd’s assistant too ticklish for his own good?” The hammer ghost teased in his low voice. 

Luigi widened his eyes under the hat. These ghosts could talk the whole time?! WHAT?!

The slinker laughed and tweaked Luigi’s hip one more time. 

Luigi squeaked and tightened the grip on his hat. “NOHoho stohohop!” Luigi whined. 

“Now which spot tickles more, I wonder…” The Hammer ghost tweaked his left side. “Here?” 

“BaHAHAhahaha!” Luigi bursted out, momentarily uncovering his face and revealing the toothy, wobbly smile that filled his red face. 

The Slinker flew up and tweaked Luigi’s left hip next. “Or here?” the slinker asked, his voice somewhat higher and more goofy-sounding than the Hammer ghost’s voice. 

Luigi stretched out his legs and let out a long stream of cackles. “LEHEHEAVE MEHEHE ALOHOHONE!” Luigi yelled. 

The hammer ghost laughed. “I think we have a winner.” He replied. 

Slinker giggled as he flew up to Luigi’s brown boots. “How ticklish are your feet?” The slinker asked. 

Luigi pulled his feet up to his chest and hugged them. “NO! Don’t you dare!” Luigi yelled. “Nooo touchy!” Luigi warned.  

The slinker shrugged his shoulders and grabbed Luigi by the arm again. “Call me evil but…” The Hammer ghost let go of Luigi, letting the man’s lower body fall. “How ticklish are your armpits?” Slinker asked next. 

Luigi squeaked and tried to cover up his armpit with his free hand. But the Hammer ghost would prove this strategy to be quite ineffective. He started skittering his big, red fingers on Luigi’s underarms, leaving Luigi squeaking and laughing. “EEEhehehehe! No-nohoho! Stahahap-”  Luigi would quickly manage to shoo the hand away and cover his armpit. But despite what he originally believed, this didn’t stop anyone. The Hammer ghost would only move his fingers down to the ribs, or the sides, leaving Luigi squealing and laughing all over again. 

Everytime Luigi would cover up a ticklish spot, the Hammer ghost would just go somewhere else. It was so unfair, and so evil. Luigi was ultimately left a powerless mess of giggles by the end. Though for some reason, the man kept on trying to cover up the same spots over and over again, despite knowing it was doing jack squat. 

“Ohohokahahay, thahahat’s enohohough, plehehehease.” Luigi begged. 

The Hammer ghost chuckled and shook his head, saying something to the slinker next. The slinker giggled and grabbed Luigi’s other arm, holding both arms up this time. Luigi widened his eyes as it quickly dawned on him that Luigi wouldn’t be able to cover up anything this time! If they started tickling him, specifically in his armpits, then he would have to just endure it. 

When the red hands got closer and closer, Luigi started to feel sweat dripping down his face nervously. “W-Wait! What do you want from me?!” Luigi asked, squeezing his eyes shut. 

The Slinker just laughed. “For being so vulnerable, he's not afraid to speak his mind.” The Slinker reacted with a laugh. 

The hammer ghost rolled his eye sockets. “He should be speechless.” The Hammer ghost muttered before lifting Luigi’s chin. “Just be glad you aren’t dead yet, kid.” The hammer ghost reacted. 

Luigi yelped and looked at the hammer ghost with fear and nervousness. 

“Any more last words?” The hammer ghost asked with a smirk, lifting his chin up a bit more and gently tickling his chin with his second finger. 

The scratching tickled a lot more than Luigi expected, making Luigi wanna lower his chin to cover it up. He was embarrassed and still quite giggly. “Yohou will regrehet messing with Luihihigi.” Luigi said. 

With that said, the Hammer ghost let go of his chin and immediately started skittering his fingers all over Luigi’s armpits. 

Luigi squeaked and kicked his feet. “AAHAHA! BAHAHAHA- NO! NOHOHOT MY AHAHARMPIHIHITS!” Luigi screamed, throwing his head back as the laughter began to overtake him once more. 

“Imagine…” the hammer ghost started dragging its index fingers down the armpits to the upper ribs. “-being this sensitive…” he moved his fingers back up towards the armpits again. 

“eeeEEEHEHEEE! NO! NAHAHA! NOHOHOHOOO!” Luigi yelled, pulling on his arms and cackling almost like a mad man. “-And being unable to stop my fingers…” The ghost continued, adding a second finger to each armpit and skittered really quickly. “-from completely destroying you inside and out.” He finished. 

Luigi wheezed and let out a long fit of cackles. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! IHIHI’M GOHOHONNA DIHIHIHIHIEEE!” Luigi shouted. 

“Having any regrets yet?” THe Hammer ghost asked. 

Luigi could feel himself quickly growing exhausted from all the tickles. “THIS IHIS SOHOHOHOHO UHUHUNFAHAHAIR!” Luigi yelled. 

The Slinker just laughed. “You really thought this would be a fair fight?!” The Slinker asked. 

The Hammer ghost chuckled and looked at his own fingers. “What would happen if…” He moved his fingers inches away from Luigi’s armpits. “-I left my fingers right close to your armpits…” The ghost asked, still wiggling his fingers. 

Luigi looked at the fingers on either side of his armpits, letting out nervous giggles and attempting to get those wiggling fingers at least another inch away. Though being teased like this lessened his laughter dramatically, it still left him with a serious case of the giggles. 

“I’m not technically tickling them, but…” The Hammer ghost smirked evilly. “You do seem to be laughing anyway.” The ghost added. 

“You can tickle him without actually using your hands?!” The Slinker reacted.

“Yup. Some humans are so sensitive, they don’t even need to feel the fingers against their body.” The Hammer ghost added. “Some humans can start reacting just by teasing them like this.” The ghost told his friend. 

Luigi tugged on his arms as much as he possibly could. He tried to calm himself down with breaths in and out. But his breathless laughter kept making that really difficult. He knew that no matter what he tried to do, nothing would change. He was not the one in control. The ghosts were. He couldn’t do anything except laugh, giggle and wait for them to get bored. 

Suddenly, a loud bark filled the room. Luigi lifted his head up with shock, while the Slinker widened his eyes. 

“Wha- OUCH!” The Hammer ghost yelled in pain, before flying all over the room with something white attached to both his tails. Luigi let out a breath of relief, smiling as he saw who it was. It was Polterpup, coming to save him in his most desperate moment. 

The slinker ghost yelped and let go of Luigi’s arms, before trying to fly away. Amidst his flying, the Slinker flew into the gate, knocking it down and now rendering Luigi free. Where the slinker went, no one could tell you. 

While Luigi fell to the ground, Polterpup continued barking and chased the hammer ghost out of the room. When the Hammer ghost was gone, Polterpup grabbed the Poltergust G-00 from beside the ruined bathtub. He placed it down beside Luigi, before giving Luigi some kisses on his cheeks and face. 

Luigi giggled and got up, wiping his face before hugging Polterpup. “Thank you, puppy.” Luigi told him, kissing his head. 

Polterpup woofed excitedly and kissed his ear back, earning some more giggles from his owner. In times like these, Luigi was so thankful to have a ghost that was always on his side no matter what. As Luigi left the room with Polterpup, he began to wonder how he managed to get through two other mansions on his own all that time…

[em-prentiss]

got lovestruck (went straight to my head)

———-

Emily brings a cat into the BAU.

“Emily,” Aaron sighs and runs a hand through his hair exasperatedly. “What the hell is that?”

“That’s a cat, Aaron. You can’t tell me you don’t know what those are.” She retorts, scrunching her nose at him. They both ignore the spluttered laughs of the team behind them.

———-

She’s just climbed out of her car when she hears it. Emily shuts the door and locks her car, hitching her purse over her shoulder and moving to the elevator.

Meow. Emily stops and cocks her head, wondering if she imagined the noise. She stays still for a moment before walking again, surveying the parking lot for any sign of a cat. Her heels almost drown out the sound of the second meow, soft and hesitant.

Emily stops and scrutinizes the lot more carefully this time. She’s just about to start moving again when she catches sight of gray fur, huddled under the wheel of a car several spaces from hers. Emily approaches the cat carefully and crouches down in front of it. “Hi,” she smiles at the cat, relatively small, its eyes wide and pale green.

“Oh, look at you,” she murmurs, extending her hand to the cat and letting it sniff her. It cautiously slinks out of its hiding spot and rubs its head against her palm. Emily grins.

“You’re so cute,” she coos, gently petting the cat, her pale hand sinking into its soft gray fur. The cat comes closer and rubs against her crouched legs, its tail brushing her knees. It purrs loudly as Emily scratches behind its ears. She laughs when it flops on its back and exposes its belly to her.

“You’re a sweet kitty,” she allows herself one more pet before she straightens. “But I have to get to work now.” She says regretfully. 

She barely takes two steps before the cat scrambles up from its perch on the ground and chases her ankles. Emily laughs when it rubs against her pants and leans down to scratch its furry head, “I have to go,” she murmurs, ignoring the pang in her heart when the cat meows and purrs again, stuffing its face into Emily’s palm. Her phone pings and she takes it out.

Where are you? JJ asks.

Emily heaves a sigh and starts walking again, the cat hot on her heels. She stops abruptly when a car speeds down the parking lot and precariously pulls into an empty space. The cat slams against her calves and yelps. “What an asshole,” Emily says to herself and looks down at the cat winding itself around her ankles. 

“Who goes 60 in a parking lot?” She asks the feline in disbelief. It seems unconcerned as it rubs itself against her legs and blinks up at her lazily. Emily’s heart melts.

“Screw it,” Emily mutters, carrying the cat in her arms and walking to the elevator. She laughs when it meows in surprise and pets its head. “You’re coming with me, baby.” She boops its velvety nose. 

“You’re too pretty to be out on the street, aren’t you?” She asks conversationally. “And these bastards will get you killed,” she turns her head to glare darkly at the car that passed while she waits for the elevator.

The doors open and she walks in. “Morning,” Emily chirps to another agent standing in the corner. The guy gives her a bewildered look at the animal in her arms. “Morning,” he mutters.

No one pays attention to her when she exits the elevator and into the sixth floor, everyone preoccupied with their own work, rushing despite the early hour.

Emily forgoes her desk when she sees the team gathered in the round table room. She drops her purse off and hurries up the stairs, the cat quiet in her arms. “Sorry I’m late,” she says cheerfully when she walks in, smiling at the bewildered looks everyone throws her.

Aaron stands next to the table, one hand resting on a stack of files and the other on his hip as he shakes his head at her. Morgan smirks from his perch at the coffee machine, JJ covers her mouth to hide a smile, and Rossi heaves a deep sigh.

“Emily,” Aaron sighs and runs a hand through his hair exasperatedly. “What the hell is that?”

“That’s a cat, Aaron. You can’t tell me you don’t know what those are.” She retorts, scrunching her nose at him. They both ignore the spluttered laughs of the team behind them.

Aaron switches tactics. “You can’t keep it here.”

“Why not? I’ll look after it,” she holds the cat upright and brings it closer to her face. “Look at her—is it a her?” She questions suddenly.

“It’s a her,” Reid confirms.

“Look at her, Aaron!” Emily moves closer to him, her cheek pressed to the cat’s. The cat seems perfectly content with this, rubbing her face against Emily’s and purring loudly.

“She kept following me, I couldn’t leave her on her own,” her lips are slightly pouted and Aaron bites his cheek to hold in his laughter. “Just for today, I’ll keep her here and look after her then I’ll take her home.” Emily pleads, her eyes wide.

Aaron sighs and reaches forward to pet the animal in her arms. Emily smiles when he strokes between the cat’s fluffy ears, who meows softly and flicks her tail in contentment.

“What if we get a case?” He asks absentmindedly, though he’s sure they’ve only got consults for today. “I’ll have Anderson take her home,” Emily’s eyes sparkle with amusement.

Aaron laughs. “He’s not your secretary, Em,” he reminds her. The cat is melting into his palm, her body lifting away from Emily’s and into Aaron’s. 

“Here, open your arms,” Emily grins. She dumps the cat on his chest, laughing when both Aaron and the feline let out matching sounds of surprise. “Wha—” Aaron splutters, barely heard over the laughter of the team. He thinks he hears someone snap a picture.

“Emily.” He tries to say sternly, but it’s hard to take him seriously when there’s a fluffy animal cuddling him, burrowing into his chest with loud purrs.

“She likes you,” Emily laughs. “You should take her home.”

Aaron sighs and looks down at the cat in his arms. He strokes her fur and smiles slightly when he feels the vibration of her purrs against his fingers.

Then he catches sight of his sleeve holding the cat up, covered in gray fur. He looks at his other arm and down his jacket, dismayed when he sees the black color turning ashy from the cat hair on it.

“My suit is ruined,” he glares at Emily. JJ stifles her laughter behind her palm and Morgan discreetly snaps a picture—or three. The sight of Hotch cuddling a tiny cat while glaring at Emily, her grin wide, is priceless. 

“Jack will love her,” Emily continues undeterred, as if she didn’t hear him. “I think Luna’s a nice name, don’t you?” She reaches forward to pet the cat too, trying to seem unaffected when their fingers touch.

Aaron doesn’t fare so well. He goes speechless at Emily’s touch, swallowing hard and avoiding her gaze. He drops the cat back into her arms. “Just for today,” he warns, already regretting the words leaving his lips when Emily grins at him.

“Just for today.” She agrees. She deposits the cat on the table and laughs when she starts playing with Reid’s pens, much to his displeasure.

Aaron sighs heavily and sits down. “We’ve got these cases requiring consults today,” he distributes the files on the table and they all settle in to get to work.

Not much of it gets done, what with Emily’s cat running around and wreaking havoc, knocking pens off the table and chasing them onto the ground, distracting Emily and Garcia, who coo delightedly over her.

Dave smiles amusedly to himself and Reid grimaces, instead taking his work to the safe sanctuary of his own secluded desk, from which he can see Morgan yell in surprise when the cat knocks over his coffee.

“God damn it, Emily, get your fucking cat out of here!” He snaps as she bites her lip to hold back her laugh. The cat springs back into Emily’s lap and she holds her close. “She didn’t mean it.”

“Emily.” Aaron chides. He rubs his temple exasperatedly and tosses Morgan a pack of tissues to clean up the mess.

“Sorry, sorry,” she chuckles. “I’ll get her out of here,” Emily gets up and takes the cat to Garcia’s office, stroking her fur as she does. “You’re gonna get me in trouble,” she murmurs. 

The cat meows at her and Emily laughs. “But that’s okay, ’cause you’re cute.” She drops her off at Garcia’s and her friend takes her with a delighted smile. “You’re not getting her back, Prentiss.” Garcia teases as she distracts the cat with one of her many fur topped pens.

“You keep her from me and our friendship’s over, Penelope Garcia.” Emily threatens and closes the door, Garcia’s laugh muffled through the wood.

“Sorry about that, Morgan,” Emily pats his shoulder as he glares at her. “Get me another coffee and I’ll forgive you.”

Emily salutes, “On it.” 

Morgan’s frown begrudgingly turns into a smile as he watches her prepare his coffee easily, humming as she stirs a spoonful of sugar into it. “Here you go,” she sets it down on the table.

“Thanks,” he grumbles, not wanting to seem too happy just yet. “You’re welcome,” Emily sits down in her seat and frowns when she finds the chair next to her empty. “Where’s Hotch?”

“He went to his office,” Dave says. Emily grabs her files and notepad and leaves the conference room to head to his office, missing the smirks her friends exchange behind her back.

She knocks on his door and he invites her in. “Hey,” Emily smiles and shuts the door softly behind her. “Miss me already?” Aaron teases as she settles into the chair across from his desk.

Emily huffs indignantly. “No.” Yes. “I’m done with my preliminary profile for this case, I thought I should go over it with you.” She raises her brows and he smirks, well aware that she hadn’t been working enough to devise a profile, most of her attention on her cat.

“Of course,” he says seriously and leans forward on his elbows, “hit me.” She gives him her profile as he reads through the file and Emily smiles when she sees him nodding along in agreement. He fills in the gaps of what she’s missed and when they’re both satisfied with it he sends the profile to the lead detective on the case.

Aaron hands her another file and she slumps back into her chair with a groan. “I almost wish we had a case,” she grumbles and he smiles. “No you don’t. C’mon, finish this one so we can go get some lunch.” He bribes and she brightens.

“At the bakery?” Emily smiles brightly, dimples in both her cheeks, and his heart suddenly pounds. 

“Whatever you want, Em. Just get this one done too.” Emily attacks her file with newfound vigor and half an hour later her other profile is sent to the detectives.

She waits for him impatiently as he puts on his coat and rushes him into the elevator, bemoaning her hunger. They reach the bakery in record time and Aaron insists on buying lunch, despite Emily’s protests. In return she forces him to let her buy a box of donuts for Jack, their shared sweet tooths something they frequently bond over.

She chatters to him as they eat their lunch in the park, and he basks in the warm glow of her voice as she speaks. Her legs are tucked beneath her and she splits half of her danish for half of his cinnamon roll, licking the crumbs from her fingertips despite the perfectly good napkins at her side. Aaron tries to pretend the scorching heat in his body is from the sunshine peeking through the clouds, but who is he kidding.

Emily smiles slyly at the blush crawling up his cheeks. “Hot?” She asks and he nods despite the cold weather, loosening his tie beneath his coat. “C’mon, let’s leave then,” she stands up and dumps the wrappers and napkins in the trash.

She turns around and moves closer to him, hands in her pockets as she lightly shivers from the cold. Aaron’s eyes dart over her face and he laughs. Emily frowns. “What?” 

“Um,” Aaron smiles, “you’ve got a little something over here,” he gestures to the corner of his mouth, where powdered sugar clings to her skin.

“What is it?” Emily asks as she wipes it away—or tries to. Her hand ventures too far up her cheek and he finds himself moving forward without feeling it.

Aaron wipes away the sugar with his thumb, his fingers gently hooked under her chin. Emily abruptly goes silent, the gasp caught in her throat as her heart rate suddenly picks up. She can smell his cologne, overpowering her senses as the wind picks up and makes her hair tickle her face.

“Powdered sugar,” he murmurs, wiping his thumb on his pristine coat, his gaze fixed on the rosy pink of her lips. Her tongue darts out to wet them and she watches him stuff his hands in his pockets and look away. “Let’s go?” 

“Aaron?” She whispers. God, he’ll never get over the way she says his name. He turns back to her. “Yes?”

Emily looks up at him and closes the meager distance between them, her hand reaching over to clutch the lapels of his coat. “Kiss me. Please.”

His heart stops. She’s looking at him nervously, her eyes dark and her cheeks slightly flushed, bottom lip caught between her teeth. He takes too long and she hesitates, moving backward and dropping her hand.

“Sorry I—”

She shuts up when his arm wraps around her waist and he pulls her into him. Emily squeaks in surprise when she falls against his chest, her hand on his arm to support herself. Aaron laughs and cups her cheek gently to tilt her face upward. 

“You want me to kiss you, Emily?” He whispers teasingly, his lips dangerously close to hers. Her body buzzes, blood running hot from his closeness despite the chill in the air.

“Don’t make me beg for it,” she huffs lightly, biting her lips as she smiles. But I just might.

Aaron frees her bottom lip from her teeth, his thumb moving over it obsessively, testing it’s softness. She’s about to crush him to her when he finally kisses her, soft and sweet and she exhales against his lips because finally he’s doing what she’s waited months for him to do.

He can taste the sweetness of the pastries on her lips, the many Splenda’s she’d dumped into her coffee, and it’s fucking heaven. She’s sighing into his mouth, her hand sneaking past his coat and into his suit jacket to rest on his chest, and he’s gone, he’s so far gone.

She licks her lips when he pulls back and he stifles a groan, already wanting to crush her against his chest again. “We should’ve done that sooner.”

Aaron laughs and cups her face in both his hands, leaning forward to press another kiss against her lips. “Yeah, we should’ve.”

His hand is warm in hers as he laces their fingers together and pulls her to the car, not letting go until he opens the door and helps her in. He picks it up again after he’s driven off, one hand on the wheel and the other in hers.

Their cheeks are flushed when they go back into the BAU, though none of the team is convinced it’s because of the cold weather.

They’re both useless for the rest of the day. Emily zones out as she reads the files, pen between her teeth as she remembers Aaron’s lips on hers. When she snaps out of it she flushes, her eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed. She doesn’t see Morgan throw JJ a smirk after she buries her head in her files again, the words blurring in her head as she thinks of his warm palm on her waist.

Aaron doesn’t fare much better. He signs documents mindlessly, reads and rereads reports as images of Emily fly into his brain, rendering him useless. He keeps replaying their kiss. Her soft, plush lips, the way she sighed into his mouth, bit his own lip between her teeth, and god her warm, soft—

“Hotch?”

His head snaps up suddenly, Emily’s voice breaking him out of his reverie. Her cat is back in her arms and she smiles at him as she walks into his office. 

“Something on your mind?” Her smile is soft, teasing as she moves closer to him. Her eyes glint—she knows well and good what he was thinking.

Aaron stands up and rounds the desk. “Going home?” He asks, looking out his office to make sure no one was there before he grabs her hip to bring her closer. “Mhm,” she hums as his hand lightly grazes her cheek.

“Actually no, I’m taking this one to the vet,” she gently pets the cat in her arms, giving her nose a small boop before turning to Aaron.

“Jack would love to see her,” he says, grappling at the first reasonable excuse he could come up with, “maybe you should come over after. He’d really like it.”

“Oh?” She grins as his hands wrap around her. “Yeah,” Aaron nods. Emily stands on her tiptoes, her arms holding the cat in place, and leans into him. “Just Jack?” Her lips ghost over his.

Her eyes are lit up by the warm lamplight of his office and he finds himself falling. “No,” Aaron whispers. “I’d love it too,” he confesses.

She’s the one that kisses him this time; drags him in by his tie like she’s always dreamed of doing, his hands tight on her waist. Aaron groans when she pulls away too soon.

“Well, the faster I get to the vet, the faster I can get to yours,” Emily says. “And I think we have a lot of catching up to do.” She winks at him and feels a thrill in her chest when his cheeks tint pink.

The cat meows impatiently then, gaining Emily’s attention. “You’ve been cooped up here all day, huh?” She coos, smoothing her fingers lightly over the bridge of her furry nose. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She walks to the door and throws Aaron a smile before she leaves. “See you in a bit.”

“Bye,” he manages, his chest squeezing inexplicably at the thought of her leaving.

It goes away when she shows up at his apartment, a cat carrier in her hand and a shy smile on her face. Jack is preoccupied with the cat—Luna—and they’re preoccupied with each other, trading kisses and touches like giddy teenagers, their hearts full and content.

Years later, when Aaron’s daughter wrangles a tiny, dirty cat into his home office Emily standing behind her with an amused smile on her lips, he sighs with a smile and dutifully takes the cat to the vet, marveling at the simple miracle that was his life the whole way there.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Dragon Skin

Summary: Azula discovers that she has dragon blood when her skin begins turning blue.

It is a small splotch on her right hand, one that she mistakes for a smear of paint. It very well could have been a smear of paint, except that it doesn’t rub away when she runs her finger over it. It doesn’t wash away no matter how much soap she scrubs into it. And it is only getting bigger, spreading out like ink in water. 

Azula wears gloves now, golden in color and as lavish as her robes. But the gloves end at her wrists and the blue is creeping up her arm. She clutches her afflicted hand to her chest and winces–her stomach is queasy. 

What’s wrong with her?

Why is this happening to her?

Everyone already thought that she was a monster, they are only just getting over that and now she is becoming a monster of some sort or another. And in the most literal sense this time around. 

She tears off the glove and begins another round of useless scrubbing. She rubs until her blue skin breaks. 

She still bleeds red. 

She places her back against the wall and slumps to the floor. Perhaps she should just light her hand a blaze. It might hurt horrifically, it might come out blistered, blacked, and ugly but at least burns are normal. At least they aren’t freakish. They are extremely common in the Fire Nation, really she can’t name one person who doesn’t have at least one small burn from some bending related accident or crime. 

She holds her strange hand up in front of her face, the blue stains have reached her elbow. She closes her eyes and inhales. Exales. Inhales…

She does so five times over and lights a fire in her left hand. Is flicks and licks in the same shade as her skin. 

She hovers her shaking hand over that flame, anxious tears streaming down her face. The heat is intense and she hasn’t yet plunged her hand into it. She takes another deep exhale and…

She loses her nerve. 

The fire dies in her hand and she flops fully to the floor as the adrenaline vaccats her. She lies there, body trembling, tears flowing. Her blue fingers brush against the carpet fibers. Tears drip from her nose and leave wet circles. 

By the next afternoon the blue has reached her neck. It has also claimed her right side and breast and parts of her belly and lower back. She buries herself in layers and high collared dresses. She masks her dread beneath a bravado of cockiness. Beneath, she feels like an abomination, some freakish creature caught between human and beast. 

“Are you alright, Azula?” Tylee asks. 

“I’m fine.” She replies stiffly. 

The acrobat knows her well enough to know that this is absolutely not true. To know that she is stressed and anxious and on edge. She is almost certain that everyone is aware. She gets snappy and cold when she is afraid. 

They just can’t place what is bothering her so very much. 

And she thinks of sharing. 

Thinks of just tearing off the gloves, thrusting her hand into the Avatar’s face, and demanding answers. Instead she holds her hand to her chest, feeling the burn of blue beneath. 

.oOo.

It has been a while since he has seen Azula. A strange thing considering that she hasn’t left the palace. He has seen her in the library on several occasions–in fact this is where Sokka has the most run-ins with her. 

The last he’d seen of the princess she had been almost frantically tearing up the library. He is worried that she is in one of her states, although she is rather adamant that, that had been a one off thing. A fluke brought on by  particularly intense amounts of stress. 

Before he knows it, he finds himself standing before her bedroom door. She doesn’t answer him but he can hear her walking. And he lets her know as much. He talks and talks until finally she cracks the door open. Just ever so slightly. “What do you want, Sokka?” 

“I want to make sure that you’re okay.” He says quietly.

“I’m fine.” And the door begins to close. Against his better judgment, he jams his foot in the door. “Sokka, go away.” 

“You haven’t left your bedroom in days.”

“That isn’t your problem, now is it.”

“Well, see, I’m a happy guy. I don’t have any problems of my own so, I’ll make this my problem.”

“You’re an idiot.” 

“And you’re not getting off that easily.” He pries the door open just enough to squeeze himself through. Of course he manages to face plant at Azula’s feet in the attempt. He expects to hear that dainty little snicker. Expects to look up and see a smug smirk. 

She has her back to him when he rises. 

He rests a hand on her shoulder, intent on turning her around to face him. “Azula?” Her body goes rigid and he attempts to turn her around but she holds her posture firm. “Azula, what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. Leave me alone.” 

“I can tell that this isn’t nothing.” He can see it in her stance. It is both timid and cagey. She has all of this space and she is giving off an air of someone trapped within tiny confines. “I’d like to help you.” 

“You can’t.” She replies quietly.

“That’s what you said the last time and look; you have friends and new hobbies and…”

“And I’m going to lose all of it.” She whispers. “Just like the last time.”

“Why do you think that?” Without thinking, he pulls her into a hug. 

“Sokka, leave me alone.”

“Do you really want to be alone, Azula?” He asks. “Because every other time you’ve said that you ended up caving and demanding that someone go and comfort you.” Really it was more of a begging but he knows that she hates it when he says so. Her silence is answer enough. He sighs. Since she won’t turn around and face him, he opts to walk in front of her. 

She cringes and her head dips. Her hair falls into her face and she makes no move to brush it aside. But he does and she cringes when he has it back over her shoulder. She doesn’t look him in the eyes–no, hers are downcast and fixed on the floor. 

And he understands very well, what is troubling her. Her eyes squeeze shut and she grits her teeth, he knows that look. He intertwines their fingers. 

.oOo.

Azula finds herself feeling quite dizzy; he doesn’t leave her. It doesn’t make sense but he is still in the room with her. Not just in the room with her but scooping her up and carrying her to her bed. He carefully lays her down and begins rubbing her back. 

“What’s happening to me, Sokka?” 

“I–I’m not sure.” 

“I’ve looked through everything.” She mumbles. “There’s nothing in the library…” She clutches the excess fabric of her pillow. “I don’t know what I did. I–I don’t think that I did anything. I never dabbled with spirit vines.”

“Spirit vines?”

She nods. “All of the scrolls I’ve read indicated adverse reactions to interacting with sprit vines. But I’ve never…” she swallows. “I haven’t even been anywhere with spirit vines.” Unless juice or sap or some other sort of spirit vine extract has been slipped into her drinks or meals.

“Have you asked Aang?”

“I haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Why not?” He sputters. 

“Would you be comfortable trotting merrily down the hall with blue skin?!” She snaps. “People already think that I’m a monster.”

Sokka pats the back of her calf. “Nobody thinks that, Azula. You’re the only one who says that.” 

“Well they will think so now.” 

“I don’t think so.” He smiles. 

Azula rolls onto her back and rubs her hands, her strange blue hands, over her face, holds them over her eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me, Sokka.”

“I’m not!” I swears. “I think that it’s kind of neat actually. Blue looks good on you, it’s always been your color. It’s like a trademark”

“The color of my fire. The trademark of my fire. Not me.” Her hands muffle her voice.

He shrugs. “Well I think that it looks nice.”

“You have wrong opinions.” 

Sokka laughs. “If you say so.”

.oOo.

Azula gives another shaky sigh and she lets him take her hands. Finally she looks up.

And finally he sees those eyes.

Dragon eyes.

There is still something in them, a spark, a something that is unmistakably Azula. His lips part and he is speechless just long enough for her to grow uncomfortable and distraught again. Until he mumbles, “Azula, I think that I know what’s happening to you.” 

“And what’s that?” She asks in a near whisper. 

“Aang’s new Avatar mission involves dragons.”

“What’s that got to do with me, Sokka.” She sits herself up and sighs. 

“Everything!” He says a bit too loudly, a touch too suddenly. He apologizes at her flinch. “So, there’s this rumor about dragons coming back. About people who were dragons in a past life.”

“Well I’m not a dragon in this life.”

“Not yet.” He shrugs. He doesn’t know what to make of her expression at the suggestion. There is a degree of intrigue within that look of terror. A dash of excitement underneath that anxiety.

“I–I want to be a human being, Sokka.” 

“That’s not what you said last month.” He shrugs. “You said that you wished that you were a dragon so that you could just fly away when people tried to hold you down.”

“I didn’t think…”

He pulls her into a hug. “Look, human or dragon or something in between, you still have me. You still have all of us.” He kisses the top of her head. “Okay?”

“Okay.” She mumbles into his shirt. 

“Now are we going to show you off to everyone else yet or do you still need a moment?”

“I suppose that we should just get it over with.”

Sokka grins and gives her a good pat on the back. “That’s the spirit! Trust me, everything will work out just fine.”

[kazscrows]

Crooked Kingdom Reread

Chapter 2: Wylan

The first Wylan chapter!

Wylan’s very first thought:

What am I doing here?

That thought had run through Wylan’s head at least six times a day since he’d met Kaz Brekker. But on a night like this, a night when they were “working,” it rose and fell in his head like a nervous tenor practicing his scales: WhatamIdoingherewhatamIdoingherewhatamIdoinghere.

#relatable

Wylan watched Kaz deal another hand to Smeet, Jesper, and the other players at the round table. He wore the same sky-blue staff jacket as Wylan and his hands were bare. Wylan had to fight not to stare at them.

Imagining Kaz wearing that jacket is funny

I mean.. they have little clouds on them!

I should draw him in it

Kaz’s hands moved as if they’d been made for no other purpose than to manipulate cards…

Trickster hands…

…long white fingers flexing in easy rhythm, the shuffle precise, each turn economical. Kaz had claimed he could control any deck.

Wylan is fascinated by Kaz’s hands and you know what? That’s fair.

Me too

Wylan knew Nina could handle just about any man and any situation, but he didn’t think she should have to sit half-dressed in a drafty gambling parlor, perched on some leering lawyer’s lap. At the very least, she was probably going to catch cold.

Wylan is worried she’ll catch a cold that’s so cute 🥺

Matthias probably isn’t in the room because he’d just have steam shooting from his ears the whole four hours

And he might kill Smeet over how he’s eyeing Nina

Smeet grinned, clearly pleased. “This is nothing compared to managing a business.”

“I can’t imagine how you do that either.”

“Sometimes I don’t know myself,” Smeet said on a sigh. “It’s been a hard week. One of my clerks never came back from his holiday, and that meant I was stuck shorthanded.”

Hate to break it to you, but that clerk is definitely not coming back

Jesper rose and reached for his guns. Wylan clutched the bottle of champagne in his hands as the other players pushed back from the table, ready to grab their own weapons or dive for cover. But all Jesper did was unsling his gun belt. Gently, he laid the revolvers on the table, fingers brushing over their high-gloss ridges with care.

Poor Jesper

He’s offering up his children

…what was Jesper thinking? He loved those guns. He might as well cut off his own hand and throw it into the pot.

See? Wylan gets it

But it’s alright it’s all part of Kaz’s plan (sort of)

He tossed Wylan a cape and mask, the trappings of the Gray Imp, one of the characters of the Komedie Brute. “Let’s go.”

“Me?”

“No, the idiot behind you.”

HA

Poor Wylan constantly getting teased and mocked

Kaz rarely used his cane when they were roaming parts of the city where he might be recognized. But despite his lopsided gait, Wylan had to jog to keep up with him.

Kaz’s disability never made him weak

He’s probably also pushing through the pain because everything they’re doing is for Inej

“How is—”

“Nina is fine. Jesper is fine. Everyone is fine except for me because I’m stuck with a gang of hand-wringing nursemaids. Keep a watch.”

BAHAHAHA

Here’s Matthias

I love how Kaz knew he was going to ask after Nina

And I love how he is just so done with everyone being worrywarts

“hand-wringing nursemaids”

They’re like: Now Kaz, dear.. are you sure this will work? Is this even… safe?

He’s over it and very stressed

I love Kaz

They should have some faith in him though!

Kaz blew again, lips pursing in time with the pattern of a new command. The dogs quieted and flopped to the floor with a disgruntled whine. one even rolled over on its back.

“Now why can’t people be this easily trained?” Kaz murmured as he crouched to oblige the dog with a belly rub, black-gloved fingers smoothing the short fur.

I’m cackling

And of course the classic Kaz stops heist to pet dog scene™️

Wylan could still hear the clerk screaming as Kaz dangled him by the ankles from the top of the Hanraat Point Lighthouse. I’m a good man, he’d shouted. I’m a good man. They were the last words he’d spoken. If he’d talked less, he might have lived.

Oh I forgot Wylan witnessed this!

I started to think this was a memory Kaz had, but it was actually Wylan recounting it

And I told you that clerk was never coming back from holiday

He’s super dead

Jan Van Eck has a printing press under Wylan’s name…

This man feels me with rage

“I’m slowing you down,” he said.

Kaz flipped open another sheaf of documents. “I knew exactly how long this would take. What was your mother’s family name?

I love how Kaz just immediately proves his thought wrong

Kaz planned on needing more time to peruse the files by himself

He knew Wylan would be helpful in finding out the names things were under. He brought him along for that, not as an extra pair of eyes to read

Our thoughts can lie to us

Wait.. wait.. Wylan just said that his mom “died” when he was eight-

Wylan is.. he’s sixteen now!

You’re telling me Jan Van Eck just hid Wylan’s mom from him for eight years—

Oh my gosh—

He couldn’t go to her funeral because there was no body- She’s still alive-

“…Why do you guys say that, anyway? No mourners, no funerals? Why not just say good luck or be safe?”

“We like to keep our expectations low.”

I’ve always thought this was kind of funny

I got excited when Wylan asked this question in the show, but then Inej answered him instead of Kaz and I remember being like:

“Yay he said the thing!! And Inej.. said the other… thing ..?”

I was confused at first and then later a little disappointed because… I don’t really think it’s something Inej would say?

It just hit different than having Kaz say it

Like honestly it was kind of depressing instead of mildly humorous

It’s a little depressing when Kaz says it too but…

For a second I thought they had actually changed the answer, but really I had just forgotten Kaz was supposed to say it

Like “Huh.. that seemed wrong I guess they altered it a little”

But the quote wasn’t wrong the person was—

And this is now a very long rant for two short lines of dialogue—

Has more bullet points than my entire Joost chapter review. RIP Joost—

But it bugged me in the show okay??

Kaz never yelled the way Wylan’s father did, but Wylan had learned to listen for that low note, that bit of black harmony that crept into Kaz’s tone when things were about to get dangerous.

I’ve always loved imagining Kaz’s voice and I love how Wylan explains how it gets more dangerous sounding here

Kaz isn’t really a yeller. He doesn’t need to be loud to scare people

“…he’s been making donations to the Church of Saint Hilde for the last eight years. If you want to pay your respects to your mother, that’s probably the place to start.”

Wylan stared at Kaz dumbly in the shadowy room. He’d never heard of the Church of Saint Hilde. And he’d never known Dirtyhands to share any bit of information that wouldn’t serve him.

He’s in such disbelief that Kaz would just tell him something out of.. can this be called kindness?.. Yeah, I think so.. maybe

Does Kaz have ulterior motives for this? I honestly can’t remember…

Regardless, Kaz really does care for his own. His Crows

Oh Wylan was so sure Kaz would just kill Smeet’s daughter…

I mean he’s thinking about the lighthouse incident again

Kaz had held him by his ankles and the clerk had wet himself, screaming and begging for mercy before he’d finally given up Smeet’s whistle commands. Kaz had been about to reel him back up when the clerk had started offering things: money, bank account numbers for Smeet’s clients, and then—I’ve got information on one of the girls at the Menagerie, the Zemeni.

Kaz had paused. What do you have on her?

Wylan had heard it then, that low, dangerous note of warning. But the clerk didn’t know Kaz, didn’t recognize the change in the rough scrape of his voice. He thought he’d found a wedge, something Kaz wanted.

…

Slowly, Kaz began to let the man’s legs slide through his grasp. It’s terrible, isn’t it? Knowing someone holds your life in his hands. The clerk’s voice rose another octave as he realized his mistake. She’s just a working girl, he screamed. She knows the score! I’m a good man. I’m a good man!

There are no good men in Ketterdam, Kaz said. The climate doesn’t agree with them. And then he’d simply let go.

Kaz was actually so insane for this

Insanely hot—

But in all seriousness. Kaz doesn’t just kill people. Especially children

He was about to let this man go free right up until he realized just how rotten and disgusting of a person he was

We’ve all seen the memes that are like “Kaz is okay with murderers , but he draws the line at disrespecting women”

And we stan

Well.. I don’t actually condone murder that actually is super bad-

Don’t kill people— but…

This is just a book—

Don’t include almost the entire chapter challenge go—

Annnd I failed immediately

Kaz squat down so he could look the little girl in the eye. “What’s this big fellow’s name?” Kaz said, laying a hand on the dog’s wrinkled neck.

“This is Maestro Spots.”

“Is that so?”

“He has a very fine howl. Da lets me name all the puppies.”

“Is Maestro Spots your favorite?” asked Kaz.

She appeared to think, then shook her head.

“I like Duke Addam Von Silverhaunch best, then Fuzzmuzzle, then Maestro Spots.”

“That’s good to know, Hanna.”

Her mouth opened into a little O. “How do you know my name?”

“I know all children’s names.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yes. Albert who lives next door and Gertrude on Ammberstraat. I live under their beds and in the backs of the closets.”

“I knew it,” the girl breathed, fear and triumph in her voice. “Mama said there was nothing there, but I knew it.” She cocked her head to one side. “You don’t look like a monster.”

“I’ll tell you a secret, Hanna. The really bad monsters never look like monsters.”

Now the little girl’s lip trembled. “Did you come to eat me? Da says monsters eat children who don’t go to bed when they’re told.”

“They do. But I won’t. Not tonight. If you do two things for me.” His voice was calm, almost hypnotic. It had the coarse rasp of an over-rosined bow. “First, you must crawl into bed. And second, you must never tell anyone you’ve seen us, especially your da.” He leaned forward and gave Hanna’s braid a playful tug. “Because if you do, I’ll slit your mother’s throat and then your father’s, and then I’ll cut out the hearts of all these sweet slobbering hounds. I shall save Duke Silverhaunch for last so that you will know it’s all your fault.” The little girl’s face was as white as the lace on the neck of her nightgown, her eyes wide and bright as new moons. “Do you understand?” She nodded frantically, chin wobbling. “Now, now, no tears. Monsters see tears and it only whets their appetites. Off to bed with you, and take that useless Maestro Spots along too.”

Kaz is the boogeyman confirmed

“When she was gone, Wylan slipped out from behind the door and followed Kaz down the steps. “How could you say something like that to her? She’s just a child.”

“We were all just children once.”

“But—”

“It was that or snap her neck and make it look like she fell down the stairs, Wylan. I think I showed remarkable restraint. Move.”

I probably didn’t need to include this entire scene, but it’s always been a favorite of mine

Kaz is so scary here

And yet- he’s almost playful too

If he hadn’t threatened to kill her parents at the end it’s a mostly silly conversation

Matthias gave a high birdcall from the other end of the street. Kaz glanced at his watch and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it wildly. “Right on time.”

They rounded the corner and slammed directly into Cornelis Smeet.

Previous | Next

[invisibleraven]

Adopting a pet for Reggie/anyone because you know I gotta prompt that

When Reggie was a kid, he begged and pleaded for a dog. Promised to walk it, feed it, whatever it needed, if only he could have a puppy. But his mother always came up with an excuse to say no, until finally stopped asking.

He'd get a puppy when he was older.

Only when Reggie was older he could only afford places that didn't allow pets. Or with roommates who were allergic. Or on tour with the band, so any pet he got would end up in kennels more often than not.

Finally, the band was taking a break, they had a big house to live in, and Reggie asked. "Can we get a dog?"

Luke and Alex exchanged glances. "I dunno buddy, a dog is a lot of work," Alex replied.

"And we'll be back on the road before long..." Luke added.

"Oh," Reggie replied, deflated. "Never mind, it was stupid of me to ask."

"Um, no, it wasn't," Alex said. "I would love to get a dog, it's just hard when we're so busy."

"But we can do it!" Luke said. "Heck, maybe we can bring him on tour with us! Dogs love road trips!"

"Really?" Reggie asked, brightening up. "You mean it?"

"Of course sunshine," Alex replied.

"Can we go right now?" Reggie asked, bouncing with excitement.

"Whoa babe, I think we need to talk about logistics first," Luke replied. Reggie pouted, but conceded that was fair, and they sat back down.

They decided they wanted a smaller dog, and from a shelter, not a store. That it would be Reggie's dog, but both of his boyfriends would happily help him take care of it. But Alex put his foot down about getting a puppy.

"I know they're cute and all Reg, but I think we want one that's already housebroken and a little bit trained, just to avoid having the house destroyed," he argued.

"We don't have to get a senior dog, but one that is not a wild ball of energy would probably be best,": Luke chimed in. "We have you for that."

"Hey!" Reggie protested, but then sank back down. "That's fair."

They went out that afternoon and got a few supplies, nothing excessive, because Reggie wanted to take his new pet to the store to pick things out and get a feel for his or her personality before choosing anything important. Alex and Luke chuckled at that, but decided that was fair. It wasn't like they didn't have the money after all.

Later that week they finally made their way to the shelter, Reggie a nervous ball of energy, almost jumping down the path towards the shelter. Luke hugged him from behind to keep him still, and Alex guiding his breathing until he calmed down a little.

"Sorry," he said once he was not close to hyperventilating. "It's just I've wanted a dog since I was a kid, and my mom always said no. So it's like... a big day to have your childhood dream realized."

"Babe..." Luke crooned, kissing his cheek while Alex ruffled his hair. "Come on, let's go meet some puppers."

The afternoon was one of Reggie's life. He met so many dogs, all of them adorable and happy to be met. The hard part was choosing just one!

"I have one more for you," the shelter employee said. "He's a little shy, and he's been here a while, but... I think he might be the one."

She brought out a timid little beagle, who saw Reggie and immediately started wagging his stub of a tail. Reggie cooed at him, sitting on the floor and extended a hand for the dog to sniff. He came over cautiously, and then gave Reggie's hand a very sloppy kiss before flopping down for some belly rubs. Reggie gave a delighted laugh before burying his hands in the soft white fur.

Only then he found the scar running the length of the dog's abdomen, and looked up at the employee. "We found him in a trap," she said. "He lost some kidney function, so he needs special food, and he's got a tiny limp. Makes him harder to home."

"Not anymore," Reggie said resolute. "He's coming home with us."

"You sure Reg?" Alex asked, scratching behind the dog's ears, smiling when the dog's back legs gave a little kick.

Luke sat on the other side, joining Reggie in the belly rub. "He is pretty darn cute."

"Yeah, he's mine," Reggie said. "Aren't you Snoopy?"

"Snoopy? Really?" Alex asked.

"He's a beagle!" Reggie said.

"It's a perfect name for him," Luke said. "Let's get the paperwork and bring him home."

"You hear that bud?" Reggie asked. "You're coming home with me!"

Snoopy gave a happy little bork in response, making the three guys grin. They brought him home later that day, bedecked in a bunch of Peanut merch, and he had his run of their place, their tour bus, and their hearts from then on.

[uncaaj]

Fanfic: The Switcheroo (Bluey)

READ NOW ON AO3!

This Bluey bonus short is called “The Switcheroo.”

+++

“Crumbed steak, I’m so late!” worried Bandit Heeler, frantically throwing stray papers all around his office. “Where are they, where are they?” He tore each shelf, cabinet, and open table space apart yet had come up empty, and his friends were waiting on him, as evidenced by Pat’s earlier annoyed text. Poking his head into the hallway, he looked toward the kitchen. “Chilli, have you seen my Dungeons & Dogsters things?”

“They’re in the den, honey!” his wife called back. “Right where you left them last time.”

Bandit ran downstairs, panting, and skidded to a halt. Immediately, he spotted a stack of paper on the side table closest to the kids’ playroom. Chilli was right, as she often was. He snatched them in his paws and dashed out. The quickest way to Pat’s was by hopping the fence in the backyard, just through the playroom. It was a quick, straight, clear shot that would waste no more time than he had already.

At least he thought it was a clear shot.

Bluey set the purple crayon down and held up her latest masterpiece to admire. “How lovely,” she beamed. She placed it gingerly on top of three other drawings, taking care not to crease them, before taking hold of the stack and standing up. “I’m going to show these to mum.” With pride across her snout, she started walking toward the large entryway toward the den.

As Bandit reached the kiwi rug in the middle of the playroom, he heard a sharp yelp in front of him. Try as he might, he could not apply the brakes quickly enough. With a pained grunt, he received the full brunt of a small heeler head to his gut and flopped onto his side, the paper in his hand released into the air.

“Ow,” said Bluey.

Sitting up quickly while clutching his aching belly, he found his pup sitting on the floor and rubbing her head, paper strewn all around them. He immediately held out a hand to her. “You all right, Bluey?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” said Bluey, gripping her dad’s paw as he pulled her upright.

He ruffled her ears. “Sorry about that, squirt, but I’m in a rush!” He scooped up the pieces of paper closest to him and legged it off the patio and into the backyard. “Keep it real!”

Bluey waved as her dad climbed the fence and tumbled into Lucky’s dad’s backyard. She laughed. It was always funny when he did that.

When Bluey walked into the kitchen, her mom was tending to a boiling pot on the stove. “Mum, why is dad in a hurry?”

“He got off work a bit late and tonight’s when he plays Dungeons and Dogsters with his friends,” said Chilli, shaking some Italian herbs into the pot.

“He bumped into me as he was running off,” Bluey giggled.

“Oooh, you okay?”

“Yup. I was just coming to put these on the fridge.” She held out the paper to her mom with a smile.

“Wackadoo! Let’s see ‘em.” Chilli took the pictures to look at, then raised an eyebrow. They were not, in fact, pictures. “Bluey, these are your dad’s Dungeons and Dogsters sheets. He needs these to play the game.”

“What?” said Bluey, snatching them back and thumbing through them. “But I had my pictures before I bumped into dad!”

“Okay, what happened after?”

“He helped me up then grabbed the paper near him and ran off. I saw him go into Lucky’s house.”

“That means-” Chilli suddenly gasped. She ran to the window and looked toward Pat’s house. Not a Bandit in sight. He was gone and so were Bluey’s drawings. Knowing him, he wouldn’t come back for them even if it would take five minutes. “Oh, biscuits.”

“Mum?”

“Yes, Bluey?”

“What’s on those sheets?”

“Things about the character he plays as in the game, what he looks like, his magical powers, that stuff.”

“Oh.” Bluey smiled. “I hope he likes playing with a Heeler dressed in big red boots and fairy braids riding a unicorn, then.”

The two laughed. “Knowing your dad,” Chilli said, “he’ll make it work.”

[envihellbender]

Michael and Gerry petsitting puppy Tim

Characters: Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker

Verse: the Magnus Archives, human pet au (Tim is a half human half canine pet owned by John and Martin.)

—

“Instructions for taking care of Tim,” Gerry began, flicking through the booklet John and Martin had given them when they dropped him off to be looked after for a few days. He was lounging on the sofa whilst Michael was sat on the floor next to Tim who was laid on his large dog bed, stretched out smiling with Michael rubbing his belly. Tim’s eyes were half lidded, a smile on his face as if he’d reached peak contentment. “I think John is taking this a little far, you know.”

“Well, they’ve not left him before. And he’s not very good at being alone,” Michael pointed out. “And he’s such a good handsome boy,” he added to Tim, who gave a little content bark in response.

“Wow, this guy eats better than we do,” Gerry said before clearing his throat. “For breakfast, he likes bacon, sausages, and/or eggs - his favourite is scrambled. For lunch, usually we give him bread, cheese, and some sliced meat, and sometimes he has sausage rolls or a steak slice from Greggs. For dinner, he’ll basically have what we’re having. He gets a sweet treat once after dinner. Do not give him: anything too spicy - it makes him sick, or too many snacks in between - I have given you the maximum amount of jerky and lardons to give him over three days. Portions are the same as you would give yourself.”

“Wow, who’s a gourmet puppy,” Michael said, giving Tim scratches behind the ear.

“Oh, he’s given us money to cover it,”

“Do you want some treats?” At this Tim’s two ears perked up, at one point they were hidden from how overgrown and dishevelled his hair was. Now his waves are much neater and his two reddish ears pointed up and flopped a little at the top.

“I dunno, we’ve only got a limited-” Before Gerard could finish, Michael had grabbed the jerky from Tim’s bag. Tim spun onto his knees his eyes lit up as Michael threw the treat a few feet away causing Tim to run after it, grabbing it in his mouth and wagging his thick reddish tail.

“Okay but-” Gerard began as Michael threw Tim another. Gerard sighed and kept flicking through the booklet. “Apparently he humps things and if he does we’re supposed to tell him to go fuck his toy or one of his teddies depending on if he is just scratching or wants to fuck something.”

“I dunno, he’s pretty. I’d be okay with him humping my leg,” Michael said as he looked at Tim’s green eyes and defined cheekbones. When he came back to him after fetching the jerky he stroked his back where the red fur met his pale skin.

“We are not sending him back to John and Martin twenty pounds heavier and humping everything in sight,” Gerard frowned. Tim looked at him with a tilted head before bounding over to him and jumping on the sofa. He patted at his arm with his hands that were folded over like paws, Gerard put an arm around him and scratched his back. “Wait, are you allowed on the furniture?” He asked flicking through the booklet.

“He is now,” Michael grinned.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Writer Wednesday, Week 1 (2023)

Tagging @writer-wednesday

Watch and Learn, City Boy

Summary: Your romantic getaway with Sergeant Hound hits a snag, but luckily, you're resourceful. Hound isn't so sure about this whole "camping" thing, but you know the best way to get him on board.

Pairings: Clone Sergeant Hound x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Star Wars/The Clone Wars

Rating: T (spicy version is on AO3! Link below!)

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff; mild language; implied/fade-to-black sensuality

“Remind me why we’re doing this, again?” Hound grumbles as the two of you wrangle a pile of tent poles and canvas.

“Because the hotel didn’t allow massiffs,” you say, grunting a bit as you struggle with the heavy tent.

Technically, the hotel doesn’t allow clones, either, but you leave that unsaid. You had booked the room, paid the pet deposit, and traveled from Coruscant to Alderaan, only to be abruptly turned away at check-in. Before you left, you told the hotel concierge your opinion of their corporate bigotry, and now you are also banned for life. And so here the three of you are, setting up an ancient, decrepit canvas tent that you dug out of your parents’ attic.

Well, technically the two of you are setting up the tent while Grizzer explores your campsite, sniffing the lush greenery of Alderaan with interest. The massiff is accustomed to the hard plastcrete and rancid smells of Coruscant, and you wonder if she’s ever been in nature before.

“Relax,” you say. “I did this all the time growing up. It’ll be fun!”

“Sleeping in the dirt and eating rations is your idea of fun?” Hound asks.

“The tent has a floor,” you point out, “and believe me, we can do better than rations.”

Eventually, you wrestle the tent into submission and get two bedrolls laid out inside. The scent of old canvas, saturated with woodsmoke and memories, pulls you right back to your childhood: camping under the stars, swimming in the lake, lying in the sand and exploring the world around you. You can almost hear the shrieks of laughter and your father’s deep baritone as he sings a lullaby to you and your siblings.

You hang up a few strings of twinkle lights, and then, satisfied with the cozy little retreat you’ve created, you go back outside to get a campfire started. Hound is standing with his arms crossed, looking decidedly unimpressed with the entire situation.

“Has it occurred to you that there are wild animals in these woods?” he asks. “Gree told me about the wolf-cats of Alderaan.”

“Grizzer will keep us safe,” you reassure him. “Won’t you, girl? Who’s my sweet baby?”

Grizzer wiggles happily over to you and nuzzles into your chest as you squat to scritch behind her ear holes.

“Grizzer, have some dignity, for kark’s sake,” Hound says. “You are a soldier of the Republic, not a pampered lap-tooka.”

Grizzer ignores him and flops onto her back to beg for belly rubs. Seeing the way you fawn over the massiff, Hound can’t help but smile, remembering the day he met you.

“Grizzer! NO!”

Hound chased after the bolting massiff as she charged an unsuspecting civilian in the middle of Monument Plaza. Grizzer had yanked the leash out of his hands and was running full-tilt through the scattering crowds. Too late, he saw her target: you.

You were standing in the sun, laughing with a street vendor, and Hound would have taken a moment to appreciate your beauty if you hadn’t been standing directly in the path of certain doom.

“Grizzer!” he shouted again. “Heel!”

You turned toward the commotion with only a few meters between you and the charging massiff. Hound fought the urge to close his eyes before Grizzer launched herself and savaged you, but then something completely unexpected happened.

You called out a word in a strange language, and the massiff skidded to a halt in front of you. You allowed her to sniff your hand, and then you pulled something out of your pocket and offered it to her. She took the treat and licked your hand as Hound finally caught up, heaving with exertion.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he panted. “She slipped her leash. I don’t know what got into her.”

You smiled up at him, and his heart thudded with more than just adrenaline when he saw the way your eyes sparkled.

“She just smelled the treats,” you said with a shrug. “We always had massiffs when I was growing up, and I never got out of the habit of carrying a few treats in my pockets. I hope it’s all right that I gave her one; I really didn’t want to lose a hand.”

In that moment, Hound knew he was utterly lost.

“Awww, is Daddy grumpy?” you coo at Grizzer as you rub her belly. “Is he a Cranky McGrumperson? Is he spreading his grumpy energy all over our campsite because he’s afraid to get his hands dirty?”

You shoot Hound a teasing look, and he stalks over to you, pulling you away from Grizzer and into his arms for a kiss. You sigh happily. You’ve been seeing Hound for a few weeks now, and you were hoping that a romantic trip to your home planet of Alderaan during his shore leave would give you an opportunity to take things to the next level. You had booked a room at a posh boutique hotel with a luxurious soaking tub and an incredible view of the mountains. Who knew the hoteliers would turn out to be gigantic dicks?

So you made a quick change of plans. You had been worried about Hound’s reaction to the idea of camping, but your other option was to take him to your parents’ home and sleep in your childhood bedroom, which… No thanks. Not the ideal setup for the intimate weekend you are planning.

You break away from Hound’s kiss feeling lightheaded. He’s an excellent kisser, and as you’ve discovered over the past weeks, a man who can kiss like that will bring a similar level of skill and enthusiasm to the bedroom (or the bedroll, as the case may be). Now all you have to do is coax him out of his sullen mood.

“Did I mention I happen to be an amazing cook?” you ask, fluttering your eyelashes.

His interest is immediately piqued. “How are you planning to cook out here?”

“Watch and learn, city boy,” you say with a grin.

One hour, two shaak steaks, and four bottles of ale later, Hound’s temper is remarkably improved. 

“Where did you learn to cook over an open fire like that?” he asks.

“My dad taught me,” you say as you pull out a deck of sabacc cards. “I told you we used to do this all the time when I was a kid. You in?”

He nods, so you shuffle and deal. 

“Your dad sounds like an interesting man,” he says. “Too bad he wasn’t home when we stopped by to get the camping gear. I’d like to meet him.”

You laugh, “Trust me, it’s better this way. You might be ready to take down the entire Separatist army, but you are not prepared for my parents’ boyfriend interrogation.”

“Boyfriend, is it?” Hound asks, his brown eyes twinkling.

“If you play your cards right,” you say with a smirk.

You play a few hands of sabacc, betting with pebbles since Hound doesn’t have any credits, and when it gets too dark to see the cards, you decide to change into pajamas. Grizzer goes into the tent with you and immediately flops down on a bedroll. When you’d packed for your trip, you were planning to be spending your nights in a luxury suite, and your choice of sleepwear was not exactly suited to the great outdoors, so you regretfully tuck away the lacy little chemise. You strip out of your clothes and pull on a pair of short shorts and an old Alderaan University hoodie—the best option you could find in your old bedroom at your parents’ house. 

When you leave the tent, Grizzer stays behind. Hound watches you with an unreadable expression, and you worry that he’s still not having a good time. It’s time to break out the big guns.

“Are you ready to have your mind blown, trooper?” you ask with a flirty look.

He sits forward immediately. “What did you have in mind?”

You bend over and rummage through the bags of groceries you’d bought on your way out of Aldera. When you straighten up, you notice his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. You toss him a packet of marshmallows.

“What are these for?” he asks.

You hand him a stick that you scavenged earlier in the day and teach him how to toast the marshmallows over the coals of the campfire. Hound’s immediately catches on fire, which you assure him is part of the experience. 

“It’s not a real s’more if the marshmallow isn’t at least thirty percent carbon,” you say.

You show him how to sandwich the resulting crispy, molten marshmallow in between layers of chocolate and sweet biscuits, and the bliss on his face when he tastes it for the first time makes the entire trip worthwhile. You haven’t eaten s’mores in years, and you’ve forgotten how rich they are. 

“I think I can only eat one,” you say.

“Not me,” he says. “I’ll eat the whole bag.”

You give him a delighted smile, pleased that he’s finally come around. Hound has such a sweet tooth. All the clones do, he tells you. Something to do with their enhanced metabolisms, and the fact that they rarely get to eat anything other than ration bars and bland mess hall food.

“These are incredible,” he mumbles around a bite. “Messy, though.”

“I can help with that,” you offer, licking the melted chocolate and marshmallow goo off his fingers. “After all, we both know you don’t like to get your hands dirty.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. He swallows audibly. “You know, I take it back. Maybe camping isn’t so bad after all.”

You stand up and tug him to his feet, leading him to the tent. Inside, Grizzer has completely claimed one entire bedroll for herself.

“I guess we’ll have to share,” you say, already planning what kind of treat to give the massiff as a thank-you.

“Oh, no, anything but that,” Hound murmurs as he draws you close to him, running his hands down your back to squeeze your ass. “You know, with the lights on in the tent, I could see everything when you were changing.”

“Everything?” you ask, tipping your head back to gaze up into his beautiful amber eyes.

“Well, maybe not everything,” he admits. He slips a hand inside your hoodie to caress the bare skin of your back. 

“Maybe we should turn them off so we don’t scandalize all those wild animals you’re so worried about,” you tease.

“Let them watch,” he says.

***

The soft light of an early summer morning filters through the canvas of the tent. You awaken slowly, feeling deliciously warm and safe. As you drift towards consciousness, you feel weight pressing against you from both sides, and you realize that at some point during the night, Grizzer has joined you and Hound on your bedroll, sandwiching you between her and the trooper. You are wrapped securely in Hound's strong arms, your legs tangled between his, and his fingers are interlaced with yours. You hear the melodic chirpings of avian-song outside the tent, and you snuggle closer to Hound, feeling his warm, even breath against your shoulder. 

It may not be the romantic getaway you had planned, but this may be your favorite holiday ever.

Spicy version here:

[senorablack]

So Much Better Than Egg Salad Sandwiches

Words: 3565 (wip) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Dustin Henderson, Robin Buckley Additional Tags: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Pining, Domestic Fluff, Humor, idiots to lovers, Kid Fic, Light Angst, POV Steve Harrington Summary: Steve gets a call from an old one night stand. Eddie just so happens to be around, decides to stick around, and now Steve’s got a whole world of internal shit to work through. There’s also the part about the toddler.

“So what do you think? That can’t be normal, can it?”  

There’s a beat of silence, but then there is a thump. A magazine waterfalls onto the floor. Some ripped open junk mail flutters down after it. A crossword with a pen bookmarked in it, flops clue-up on top of that. 45 down asks for a 10 letter word for terror so deep one is rendered immobile. 

“What was it? Too many basketballs to the noggin?All those crazy ragers at 16? Because some wiring ain’t firing off the way it’s supposed to if you seriously think I’d be anything close to an authority on this, dude.”

Eddie shifts his weight into Steve’s line of sight. Steve crosses his arms and purposefully stares at the crown moulding behind his head.

“And what, you think I’m hosting up seminars down at the Double Tree?” He snaps.

“No, but of the two of us, you’re the one with a resume that’s dirty with nannying.” Eddie says, dipping his head to demand eye contact. 

Steve does look at him then, but only because he wants to see the hurt cloud over Eddie’s face after he flicks him on the forehead.

“Ew. Come on, man, don’t say dirty and nannying in the same sentence.”

“Well aren’t we just a dirty-minded boy this morning?” Eddie grins, rubbing at his new wound.

“No, just a regular-minded dirty boy.” Steve says, and points over his shoulder with a thumb. He can still feel the sticky white crud, crusty and drying down his back.

Eddie peers over him before he steps away and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Steve dares him, with narrowed eyes, just dares him to make a joke about this.

Eddie mmhhmms, fingers covering over his mouth and pulling at his lips in a way that’s meant to conceal his glee, but Steve knows better. Eddie’s body is vibrating. The bastard can barely contain himself. That doesn’t mean he’s going to give him the green light or anything.

“I really don’t think I’m mature enough for this.” Eddie mumbles and buries his face into his hands.

Steve rolls his eyes.

“I know what that sounds and looks like okay, but can we focus—we’re getting off topic. Ideas, any of them, would be fucking neat right now.”

“Alright” Eddie says, sucking in a deep belly full of air and rocking to the tip of his toes. “Have you checked its instruction manual?”

Steve starts to walk away, but Eddie falls back on his heels and stops him by grabbing a fist full of his t-shirt. It’s unfortunate that it’d be the spot that hasn’t dried. Eddie’s face contorts in disgust.

 “What?” Steve rounds on him, “I’m shitting my pants here, but you’re joking around like you’re headlining The Apollo. Just go. Forget I called.” 

“No, look, I’m sorry. It’s just—I’m also very out of my element here.” Eddie says softly. He also wipes his sullied hands on the front of Steve’s t-shirt. Steve closes his eyes and counts to 5.

“I know.” Steve scrubs a hand down his face. “Shit, I know.”

There’s another thwap and what sounds of marbles rolling down linoleum, but is really a tall porcelain vase that stands on the offending side table. Even if they’re no where near it, the pair brace themselves for a quick run and lunge to catch it. They watch widen-eyed and wordlessly as the bottom of it twirls like a top about to tip, before the damn thing finally rights itself. They share a wince. 

“Should we, uh, divert its course? This seems like a gamble and we’re on the wrong side of the loaded die, if you get me.” Eddie suggests.

“Shit, there’s so much glass in this house—what was I thinking?” Steve says, grabbing onto Eddie’s wrist. “God, I can’t do this. Why did I think I could do this?”