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missorgana · 3 years

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lucky accidents

pairing: geralt/jaskier

fandom: the witcher (tv)

rating: teen and up

word count: 2408

warning: swearing, alcohol

summary: Jaskier's dog runs away. He might have to sneak into a random house to get her. Needless to say, it's going to be an interesting night. (modern au, teacher jaskier, single dad geralt)

(a ridiculous meet-cute(slash ugly??) and geraskier being chaotic as a very late birthday present for the queen Sabrina / @poirot my love!!! really really hope you like this fic babeee 💖 and thank you my ride or die Cat / @inafaithforgotten for beta reading for me, saved my ass once more MWAH 💕✨ enjoy!!)

read on ao3

Out of all the ridiculously stupid and awfully humiliating things Jaskier’s done in his life, this has got to take the cake.

Granted it isn’t completely his fault. Promise.

It’s rather Buttercup’s fault, his darling beloved cocker spaniel, who’s decided to pay a visit to a random house’s garden, and house, right in the middle of their perfectly fine 2am walk, thank you very much.

Curse her loveable face. He supposes she gets her curiosity and recklessness from himself, really.

And in the end, what can Jaskier do other than try to find a way in?

It’s taken him three months to get her rid of that habit of eating just about everything dropped on the floor (his local vet probably hates him), so he’d be damned if he’s gonna lose his baby to a stranger.

Maybe he’s way past sleep deprived right now. Maybe he’s had a couple of rums in his coffee. Maybe he has no fucking idea what he’s doing.

But, oh, what a perfect time for an adventure!

Okay, if he was in his right state of mind at this point, he’d probably stopped in his tracks and realised there’s a perfectly sensible way of solving this problem, involving a fucking door bell.

Alas, as mentioned earlier, embarrassing.

Whether it’s the daunting scenario of disturbing someone’s beauty sleep or the judgement a stranger might lay upon him from having a dog who doesn’t listen to him that scares him the most, Jaskier isn’t really sure.

So, here he is.

It took a little less than an hour for him to decide his plan of action, after about ten minutes of frantic searching, ten minutes of dawning realisation, and the rest a frantic panic staring at the god forsaken house.

Ultimately, Jaskier climbs over what he assumes is the gate to the backyard. Remember, definitely not sober right now.

It’s moments like these that leave him wondering how he ever landed his teaching job, but he prays to whatever gods might be up there that this doesn’t end up with him losing it. He’s too fucking passionate about that school and those kids to let it go.

But fuck! He wants his dog back!

Jaskier lands in the backyard, right to his assumption, and well, now that he’s officially trespassing on private property, he can’t really chicken out.

Luckily, a window is propped open for his convenience. It’s an extremely hot summer night, as the last two weeks proved, so he’s in no way surprised.

And a plastic chair and table-set to jump from, wonderful!

Don’t think about the illegality of all this too much. Jaskier’s trying his best.

At least, he proves that to himself climbing in, surprising himself in how quiet he can be. Even dodging a potted plant on the window sill, he sets his foot on wooden floor, huh, those years of ballet did pay off after all.

And, yes, he took his shoes off beforehand, duh, he’s not an idiot.

But soon enough, well… uh, let’s say that’s as far as Jaskier’s plan went. Now he’s officially breaking into a home , and he’s standing as if glued in place, staring at the living room that looks stuck in a forgotten century.

Focus!

He ponders on calling her name, or rather, whispering, but Buttercup’s familiar, frantic running footsteps get ahead of him.

“Buttercup!” he whispers, willing his voice as stern as possible for the troublemaker, “Come on, girl!”

Shakes are heard, more padding of feet, and his baby comes running along from what looks like the kitchen. He’s, like, 50% sure, it’s dark and the rum is making the world a little crooked.

Thank heavens she hasn’t broken anything.

And thank heavens he’s in time to shush her before the inevitable bark comes. She looks so clueless, but so happy with her big twinkling eyes, it’s a bit annoying.

She’s in deep, deep trouble for this. Can’t get out of this that easy. Nope.

Jaskier’s gonna scold her anyway, but right now, relief washes over him more than anything else. Entry succeeded, goal obtained, now it’s time for his exit.

To be honest, not really something he planned, either. But surely the way in works the other way around too, right?

See, that’s the funny thing, because it’s not his happy pup smashing anything in her spontaneous adventure, no, it’s when he heads back for the window the crash happens. Or, well, he thinks it’s the way for the window, the general direction at least, but Jaskier’s hip meets with a table, and he’s pretty sure a lamp’s involved in the fall.

That really hurt, thanks for asking.

But instead of fleeing the scene even faster, like any sensible person would do, he’s frozen half-standing, half-leaning against the windowsill, as light switches on in a room down the hall, and a voice calls, “Dad?”

Shit . Why is Jaskier drunk doing this? Why is he doing this at all?

Buttercup tilts her head at him and he’s none the wiser. He really does try to move, but then she’s running off again and he can’t even get to chase after her before a high pitched scream meets his eardrums.

He’s caught.

Yep, he’s so caught, because he’s an idiot who didn’t jump out the window when he should, and soon enough he’s being hit over the head with a slipper. Best night ever.

Jaskier becomes a bit of a flailing mess of limbs, attempting to dodge without much success while Buttercup starts barking excitedly somewhere in the other room. He even throws out a couple of “Ow!”s, because, seriously, that slipper hurts, what the fuck?

He can’t exactly blame his attacker, of course. In fact, very much the reaction he’d have himself. Still, he’s rather glad the hits come to a halt when the room is suddenly illuminated, the lamp he pushed over staring at him in offense.

The gruff voice from the hallway surprises him, when it says, “Princess?”

However, he’s a little more than shocked right now, because once Jaskier blinks himself to clear vision, he sees a young girl in front of him he in no way expected to meet today. Tonight. Whatever.

Ciri, one of his students, is clutching a blue slipper, used as a weapon only seconds ago, to her chest while staring at him with teacup wide eyes.

Well, this just got a hell of a lot more embarrassing.

And when Jaskier averts his eyes from the blonde girl, a giant blonde man who he can only assume is Ciri’s father, with arms that he’s pretty sure could snap him in half like a twig, is staring with a similar shocked expression, face twisted to a frown.

Why, oh, why in the name of all that is sacred and good, is the first thought jumping into Jaskier’s mind how he’d let those arms do all sorts of things to him.

You absolute goddamn clown. His brain’s too busy scolding him to say anything, but turns out he doesn’t need to since his pup jumps his student happily, because she doesn’t understand the situation at all and just found new friends in her post-midnight scavenger hunt.

He thinks he might’ve hit a new low at this point.

However, Ciri frees him of her father’s scrutinizing eyes for a minute, as she giggles in excitement, and now looks up at Jaskier with such a huge grin her cheeks are bound to hurt, “Mr. Jaskier!”

Okay. Okay, out of all the homes he could’ve possibly intruded in, this definitely isn’t a worse case scenario. Luck, maybe?

Not that he feels particularly lucky looking back at the man watching the scene, looking rather, uh, furious, which is understandable.

“You know this man?” he questions his daughter before Jaskier even gets time to consider his options, and the young girl looks back with an eager nod.

He himself is pretty much frozen in place.

Kind of fearing the brick wall of a man will murder him on the spot if he even moves an inch. Practically already killing him with his eyes only. Embarrassingly enough, he finds that even more attractive. Think with your head , idiot.

Meanwhile, Ciri’s face is painted with brief confusion, “My music teacher, dad! Didn’t you listen when I told you? Mr. Jaskier’s classes are my favorite.”

The girl seats herself on the floor and scratches Buttercup behind the ears, who seems to finally have used up all her energy for the day.

Ciri maintains her excitement, though, while looking painfully disappointed at her father. The man instantly reacts, it seems, because the glare vanishes into thin air, his stance less volatile, his expression almost… soft?

That word doesn’t exactly fit the blonde man, but it makes Jaskier feel a lot of ways. Man, is he drunk or just horny at this point?

“Of course I did.” his student’s father tells her, still eyeing him warily while apologising, “That doesn’t explain what your teacher is doing in our house, princess. At night.”

Jaskier wants to fucking die.

He tries to stammer something out, it takes, uh, a while, only landing on, “My dog.”

The blonde man frowns again.

Ciri still has zero judgement in her eyes, God bless her, and he laughs nervously in the attempt to elaborate, “Buttercup here, she, uh, ran away from me. In here. Didn’t wanna wake ya. Sorry.”

And Jaskier shakes his head at himself like it’s second nature. Well, sort of is. If you knew all the stupid shit he accidently gets himself into, you wouldn’t be surprised.

Luckily, his (favorite) student just giggles when Buttercup licks her hand, and her father seems degrees less inclined to call the cops, so that’s good. Ciri even asks him if she can give the pup a treat, and Jaskier can’t exactly say no to that, can he?

Buttercup’s clearly in love with her now, it’s adorable.

Which is why it makes him feel like a bit of an asshole when he clears his throat and tells the duo it’s probably time for him to make his exit. Ciri’s heart might as well have just shattered in pieces in front of him.

But he’s just still pretty terrified of her father’s rather menacing figure. Note to self to not be present at that parent-teacher conference.

The eye candy, though.

Focus on not getting arrested, Jaskier!

Ultimately, she looks to her dad and stands up hesitantly, her and the pup looking at each other like they’re being torn apart for eternity, and then directs her pleading eyes back to him, “Could I walk her sometime, Mr. Jaskier? Please ?”

His student drags out the word almost to the point where she loses her breath, and Jaskier can’t help his chuckle. Thankfully, her dad gives him a look of approval.

“Sure thing, kid.”

In return, he gets his second scare of the day when Ciri screeches again, only for a few seconds when she probably remembers it’s the dead of the night, and jumps for a hug. Bless her heart, but he can’t help still feeling utterly embarrassed.

Jaskier pats her back before she lets go and her father ushers her to her room, and the yell “Goodnight!” is way too endearing, although it was most likely more directed to his pup than himself, fair enough.

Well, then. He finds himself standing around awkwardly, nervously still not moving until said giant of a man crosses his arms and gets Jaskier out of his own head.

“Ah, well, that’ll be my leave then.” he says, looking everywhere else than the person in front of him, scratching his neck.

It’s almost obvious he’s getting a cold shoulder until the deep voice speaks again, “Make sure to use the door this time.”

Yup, he deserves that.

To be honest, Jaskier can’t quite believe he’s… uh, survived this. Better not jinx it, though.

“I, sir, uh,” he starts, holding out a hand for Buttercup to follow along, “I cannot stress how sorry I am for this. Seriously. If you tell my superiors about this, I’ll understand, uhm, I guess I just want to let you know I thoroughly enjoyed teaching your daughter.”

And the blonde is frighteningly silent once more, though he lifts one eyebrow, whatever the hell that means.

At last, a sigh.

“Well, I hope you’ll continue.” are the words coming next, shocking enough, Jaskier almost thinks he’s sound-hallucinating, or something, “Apology accepted. Nobody’s hurt, and Cirilla seems to like you quite a lot.”

He honestly can’t help but smile, in relief more than anything else. Buttercup barks once, and the man glances down. “And your dog, too.”

Is- is that a smile? Jaskier can’t really tell, because it looks oddly out of place with, well, everything else about him. Not that he doesn’t like what he’s seeing.

The not-so-scary-anymore man even opens the door for him, gosh, he does like his men with good manners!

Maybe, possibly, he really needs to sober up. Or eat something, now that he thinks about it.

“Then, adieu!” he offers with a little flourish of his hand, but while the pup’s already running eagerly out into the rose bushes, the blonde man stops him in his tracks with, “I suppose you’d like my number.”

There’s that familiar awkwardness again! Jaskier realises this when all he can do is gape like a moron, but honestly, those might be the most surprising out of this whole evening. That says a lot.

He finds himself stammering, “Uhm, uh, pardon?”

The giant’s already writing it down on a fucking post-it note. “So you don’t have to use the window when Ciri’s going to walk her new friend over there.”

Jaskier blinks, “Ah!” Of course, what else? He’s bordering on a thin line to delusion, truly, “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” he repeats back, and Jaskier pockets the note hilariously quickly himself.

Good, good, don’t humiliate yourself even more now. He guesses he can be thankful he’s just sober enough to not try one of those… horrendous pick-up lines of his.

Guess the eye candy will be enough.

He gives the blonde a nod at last, taking his final leave after a way too strange night, but not before the man forms that almost-smile, pretty sure it’s a smile, again (good God, did he just check out his ass, or has Jaskier officially lost it?) and says, “Name’s Geralt, by the way.”

Jaskier nearly chokes on his own breath.

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thdorkmagnet · 3 years

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The Princess and the Street Dog

Hello everyone!! So today I am posting a birthday gift for my dear amazing friend @kikithefox231. She had an idea for a Lady and the Tramp AU and I fell in love with it! Of all her incredible AU’s this one might be my favorite, haha. She also offered to make a cover for it and gosh it just turned out adorable!! Thanks for that Kiki and Happy Birthday, dude! You deserve it!

Star's life had always been perfect. Ever since she could remember she had been living the life of luxury. She had been adopted by a lovely family of humans known as Eclipsa and Globgor. They treated her with so much warmth and kindness that she never felt unloved. She could do basically whatever she wanted: sleep on the bed at their feet, eat half of Globgor’s morning donut, and she was even free to bark and chase around as many birds or squirrels as she wanted.

Yep, life for Star was pretty good.

Loving with a silver spoon would do that to you. Sure there was a problem or two from time to time but nothing that ever threatened her lifestyle. The biggest hiccup had been when Globgore and Eclipsa had a 'baby' as they called it and suddenly the attention was shifted away from her. She was pretty upset and even a little jealous until she had actually seen little Meteora and her heart had melted. She fell in love with the baby and her tail was wagging so much the first time she saw her, it was a wonder it didn't break off.

So yeah life for Star was good.

Except....

It wasn't. Lately Star has been craving more. She wanted to see more than the small fenced-in enclosure she called home. Sure she loved her home and owners and couldn't ask for better but at the same time... she wanted more! She knew there was stuff out there that she had never seen before and she would love a chance to see it someday.

Of course it wasn't her fault she had started having these thoughts, they had been implanted into her brain by the wild street dog known as Marco. Ever since he started showing up, Star has begun desiring more from her life than the pampered existence she knew. He would come around to bother her and tell her stories about life outside of fences, about railroad tracks and garbage cans and fire hydrants. Star pretended not to care but inwardly, her curiosity was beyond peaked and she secretly loved whenever Marco appeared, something about him just drew her in and she couldn't quite explain it.

Not that she would ever let it show.

Star was thinking about him as she laid out of the grass, letting the bright sunlight soak into her warm fur. She had had a very busy morning, fetching the newspaper, burying the bone Eclipsa had given her, barking at a group of stray birds that wandered into her yard, the usual stuff and she was enjoying some well deserved rest. Of course she was also trying to show off the new pink bow her owners had tied around her ears, it looked great on her and she was happy to gain attention over it.

But then her peaceful morning was interrupted as she heard a distinct set of pawprints heading her way. She let out a groan, while her heartbeat began to pick up its pace again. There was only one animal in the world those pawsteps could belong to, Marco's brash, confident stride too distinct to be anyone else.

Star felt her heartbeat racing against her chest and her tail began to wag against her will. She did her best to hide her joy though, pretending to be asleep. She didn't want to let him know the effect he had on her, even though she was practically shivering with anticipation.

She felt the tiniest of smiles form on her face as she heard the gate to her yard creak open. She didn't know why but she loved the fact that Marco was there to see her. That he came all this way specifically for her. Something about that caused goosebumps to appear under her fur.

She listened as his paws padded on the soft grass getting closer and closer but she didn't dare risk looking. Maybe if he thought she was sleeping he would leave and honestly even though she wanted to see him, she didn't want the temptation that came with him. His wild, chaotic nature was hard to resist.

But her charade proved ineffective when a cocky voice said, "Hello princess."

Star let out a fake sigh, pretending to be annoyed by the nickname he had given her, instead of the intense feeling of joy that rushed through her. "Why do you always have the worst timing? Can't you see I'm in the middle of something."

Marco lay down in front of her, their faces so close their noses were nearly touching. "Funny, to my eye it looks like you're doing a whole lot of nothing," he said with an intoxicating smirk.

Star huffed, sticking her nose up in the air like her friend Ponyhead had taught her, saying in a superior tone, "For your information it's called a nap."

Marco wasn't at all affected by her power, rolling around some on the grass as he commented, "Wow, I knew you were pampered but I didn't realize the pet life made you so lazy."

Star couldn't stop the growl at the teasing insult, her cheeks puffing up in the cutest way. "I'm not lazy!" She argued, shooting the street dog an annoyed scowl. "For your information I had a very busy morning!"

"Doing what? Getting a pedicure?" Marco asked with a sly grin, clearly enjoying getting under the cocker spaniel's skin.

"No that was the day before," Star replied without thinking. But upon realizing her mistake she flushed, knowing how the argument was just made invalid. The collie broke out into laughter and Star resisted every urge in her body that told her to hide her blushing face from his gaze. Instead she simply settled for looking away and pouting.

"Whatever, it's not that bad," she muttered under her breath. In a louder voice though she asked in an annoyed huff, "Did you come all the way here just to insult me?"

"Nope," Marco said, finally recovering from his laughing fit, stretched out his limbs and back as he spoke. "Actually I was on my way to have some real fun and figured I'd invite you along." The dog crossed his paws in front of him before laying his head on top, giving the pampered pooch a knowing smirk. "But clearly you're too busy to come."

Star saw through the dog’s attempt to manipulate her, his hidden smug and wagging tail giving him away in a heartbeat. But Star was not so easily manipulated and so she kept a straight face as she replied, "That's right. So why don't you run along and let me nap in peace." She turned her back to him and laid down closing her eyes while listening closely to see if he would actually leave or not.

But even this was not enough to shake Marco as he trotted around her, now facing her again. "Oh come on," he pressed bending down so that his face hovered a few inches from her own. "Don’t tell me you aren't curious? Where's your sense of adventure? Don't you want more out of life than being a pet! Don't you wanna see what a dog's life can really be?"

Star didn't know how to reply to that, because she was curious. She did want to see what life off of a leash was like. She knew she shouldn't but she did and that burning desire made her hesitate. Marco's offer was so intriguing, could she really pass up this chance?

Marco could see her will breaking and added in a hinting tone, "Come on, princess. You know you want to."

"But-But Eclipsa and Globgor," she quickly stammered, but the excuse was halfhearted and she knew it.

“I’ll have you back before they even know you’re gone,” Marco promised, giving her a trusting smile, one that Star found impossible to resist, her curiosity and the street dog’s pressure pushing her over the edge.

She let out a long, drawn-out sigh, before finally saying, “Okay, fine.” But she added quickly, “But only because it’ll get you to leave me alone.”

It was clear Marco saw through her obvious lie due to his wide smirk but thankfully he kept whatever comment he had to himself as he simply replied, “Cool. Glad to hear I finally convinced you.”

“Not like I had much choice,” Star muttered sourly, stretching out her limbs as she finally stood. She made sure to not let her smile show, her excitement at finally getting to see the outside world making her inwardly giddy. But she did not want Marco to see that.

Marco chuckled to himself at Star’s pouting and told her smoothly, “Hey, I promise you’re gonna love it and a street dog’s ode is his life.”

“Really?” Star questioned, raising a teasing eyebrow. She allowed the dog to lead her over to the opened gate.

“Oh yeah, just because we aren’t pampered head to toe doesn’t mean we don’t have standards, princess.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to see how true your ode is then, won’t we?”

Marco gave her a confident grin over his shoulder, that caused Star’s cheeks to heat up. “Challenge accepted.” The two reached the gate and Marco waved a paw towards the exit, bowing his head low. “After you,” he said in what could almost pass for a sophisticated tone if Star didn’t notice the sarcasm dripping from his every inflection.

“Such a gentlemen,” she returned, playing along with his act as she trotted past him, keeping her head held high in a dignified manner. But she paused just a second as she reached the crosswalk, feeling anxious to take that final step into a world she didn’t know or understand. She didn’t pause for too long though, feeling Marco’s stare on her back, no doubt judging her hesitation and wanting to prove herself to the street dog she forced her paw onto the hard cement sidewalk. For some reason, Star’s body tensed up, her hair standing slightly on end as if she expected some disaster to happen the moment she left the safety of her yard. But nothing happened, the pair remained untouched and Star felt slightly embarrassed for the irrational panic.

Marco grinned brightly at seeing the fussy dog finally stepping outside her comfort zone and his tail wagged happily as he watched her reluctantly standing on the sidewalk. He had been waiting for this moment for so long and he finally had convinced his crush to go on an adventure with him. He could see her start to rethink her decision though, indecision flashing in her eyes and he quickly said, “Come on, it’s this way.” And with that he headed off towards town, already coming up with the quickest route out of the fancy neighborhood. He held his breath slightly as he listened closely for Star’s pawsteps and after a couple seconds he heard her following along behind him and felt his heart leap in his chest.

Star made sure to stick close to Marco as she stumbled along blindly behind him, the burning curiosity in her chest pressing her forward as her beloved home slowly faded in the distance as she journeyed into the unknown.

...

Star was enchanted by the world outside her fence. She could only gap and wag her tail at every new sight that came her way, following along behind Marco. There were so many things to see, automobiles and fire hydrants and so, so many humans! Thousands of new smells invaded Star's nostrils and she couldn't help but sniff back eagerly. She wanted to know what all of it was and meant.

She tried to keep her composure, especially when she caught a few smirking glances from Marco. She was a lady, after all. Still, it was hard to act sophisticated when you were left gawking awkwardly at something as simple as a window shop. Star jumped when a Jack-in-the-box popped up from behind the glass and Marco laughed. She tried to ignore the annoying tramp as well as her warm cheeks.

Marco led her over to some railroad tracks and they followed them for a short ways. Again, Star couldn't hold in her excitement as she asked, "Do you think we'll see a train?"

"Probably not, the trains don't usually run at this time," Marco nonchalantly replied, boldly walking on the tracks themselves, while Star trotted next to them.

"Oh," Star replied sadly, unable to hide her disappointment.

"Maybe next time, princess," Marco reassured her, giving her a tiny glance.

Star didn't reply but her tail wagged just a little bit harder at the thought of there being a 'next time'. She hadn't been too sure about an outing with the street dog at first but she had to admit she was enjoying herself. Maybe she wouldn't mind having a 'next time' with Marco.

Then the two reached their destination.

Of all the places Star had been imagining (since Marco had insisted on it being a surprise) an old rundown farm was not one of them. If farm was even the right word. The grass had been picked clean, only dirt and mud left. The house was falling apart loose boards and peeling paint making the place look hazardous. The only thing of even remote interest was a worn down chicken coop. Star gave Marco a skeptical look silently asking 'Is this the place?'

The mutt ignored his critical companion, breathing in the rustic air before sighing contintly, "This place never changes."

"Are you sure that's a good thing?" Star commented, wrinkling her snout.

Marco finally picked up on the pet's contempt and said confidently, "Trust me, Star. You are gonna love this."

"If you say so," Star replied, shifting uncomfortably on her paws, suddenly not sure about her decision to tag along. The dirt especially making her hesitant. Eclipsa hated having to give her baths and would usually ask Globgor do it. Star didn't want to cause trouble for her owners.

But she was already here and she didn't want to turn back now, she would never hear the end about it from Marco. She had to prove to him once and for all that a pet could be just as wild and reckless as a stray.

So, Star just took in a breath, gazing up at the wire fence that sealed off their entrance and asked, "So how do we get in?"

"This way," Marco replied, padding over to the fence and gesturing with his paw to a small hole just under where the fence was. He quickly widened the hole, using his front paws to scoop out dirt so both he and Star could fit easily under.

Star watched as the collie easily slipped through the hole, not a single patch of fur even grazing the fence line. He then turned, waiting for Star to do the same.

But she hesitated.

Marco watched her stand there awkwardly for a second, before asking, "What is it now, princess?" A smirk grew as he added teasingly, "Afraid of getting a little dirty?"

Star's gaze narrowed slightly but she shook her head, causing her ears to flop back and forth. "No, it's just... my bow."

"Your bow," Marco repeated, an eyebrow beginning to raise.

Star felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment, suddenly feeling stupid for bringing it up, but she lowered her head so Marco could clearly see the pretty pink ribbon tied around her ears, resting comfortably at the back of her head. "Uh yeah, Eclipsa and Globgor just bought it for me, I'm afraid it'll get ruined." Her voice grew softer and softer with each word, shame making her voice slowly break off, lost to the wind.

She waited for Marco to laugh or taunt her but surprisingly the dog didn't say anything, instead just gazing around thoughtfully at the fence. Star watched in surprise as his bright brown eyes searched for any openings, before they landed on a small gate.

"Hang on I got an idea," Marco said. The hound then began the grueling task of trying to open the small lock with nothing but his nose. It took several attempts, trying to tease the small clasp up and Star held her breath at every try, sighing in disappointment each time it slipped right back into place.

Finally after several endless minutes, Marco managed to get the gate open, a small push from his paw allowing Star to easily enter inside.

Star happily trotted inside, touched by Marco's kindness. "Thanks," she whispered shyly. "I really appreciate you doing that for me." She scratched a paw in the dirt absentmindedly.

Marco shrugged. "Well I couldn't let you ruin something important to you because of me, what kind of friend would I be, then?"

Star was too stunned to respond to that, just staring at him, wide-eyed. The slight sparkle in her eye seemed to make Marco uncomfortable, coughing into his paw before turning away and adding quickly, "B-Besides, then I'd never get you to come out of your fancy cage again, soooo-"

Star smiled softly back at him, easily picking up on his attempts to cover up his compassionate act and simply replied, "Well thanks all the same."

"S-Sure, it's no big deal, really," Marco nervously stuttered, for the first time losing his cocky demeanor that Star had so heavily associated with him. Looks like there was more to Marco than she had thought. And Star couldn't help her curiosity as she wondered what other sides to him waited beneath his rough exterior.

"Anyways," Marco continued in a desperate attempt to change the subject. "Let me show you what we came here for."

"Oh please," Star said teasingly, trotting along beside him as he led her to the chicken coop. "The anticipation is killing me."

Marco gestured with a paw at the coop. "Here we are!" He said in a showy tone.

Stars eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm confused is it behind the dirty chicken coop orrr-"

Marco gave a fake laugh at the comment. "Haha, very funny. No, it is the chicken coop, Star."

"And why do we care about chickens, exactly?" Star asked, still not following Marco's train of thought.

"Easy. We're gonna scare them and then chase them around a bunch."

Star was startled by this answer, blurting out, "Why would we do that?"

"Because it's fun," Marco replied simply.

"But we won't hurt them right?" Star asked nervously.

"Naaahh," Marco dismissively answered, already walking up the wooden plank that led inside. "They love it. This is what they live for."

"Well, alright then," Star said wincing but still followed after her friend. She still had a point to prove, after all.

Once inside, the smell of must and feathers filled Star's nose and she blinked a few times waiting for her eyes to adjust. The chickens all lay on small piles of straw that acted as their nest, each snoring peacefully, oblivious to the intruders in their home. The pampered pup looked over at her friend, unsure of what to do now.

But it seemed Marco was easily in control of the situation, shooting her a wink before sucking in a deep breath. Before Star could question what he was doing the mutt let out a loud series of barks that caused Star to flinch and startled the birds from their slumber, squawking and flapping around the coop wildly. Then they all rushed towards the only exit and Star barely had time to jump out of the way of the fluttering of a thousand feathers.

Star watched stunned as the birds scattered out across the yard, still clucking loudly and making a huge fuss as they scrambled around blindly. The pet felt a twinge of regret for scaring the birds until her eyes landed on Marco. The street dog crouched forward on his front paws, so his tail was sticking up in the air. It was wagging so quickly it was a wonder it hadn't lifted him off the ground. There was a playfulness in his eyes and his tongue stuck out just slightly and Star couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of the grown dog acting like a mere pup.

Marco heard her chuckle and flashed her a winning grin that caused Star’s whole body to warm with affection and she smiled back at the mutt without even thinking. Then, without warning, the street dog launched himself towards one of the chickens causing it to squawk and scamper away as fast as it’s claws would allow. But Marco was on it’s tail in a second, following closely along behind it and letting out a few yips here and there to keep it motivated on escaping him. Star now outright laughed at her companion’s ridiculous display, his tongue now hanging fully out of his mouth as he chased after the bird, which zigzagged around the yard in some form of evasive maneuver.

Star laughed harder and harder until her stomach hurt and there were tears in her eyes and still the mutt continued his hilarious display. Marco paused for only a second, panting wildly but clearly enjoying himself and he gave a slight incline of his head towards the lady dog, beaconing her over. Star shook her head, still thinking of her privileged upbringing, it simply wouldn’t be dignified of her. Marco’s eyes flashed with some kind of determination but quickly raced after the chicken again.

This time though, he seemed to be guiding it in a specific path, cutting it off at several points and forcing it to turn and run and Star realized too late that he was leading it over to her. She shrieked and quickly moved out of the way as the chicken ran past, a few feathers flying up into the air and landing in her soft fur. Marco flew by her in a blur and she shot him an annoyed glare which he returned with a shrug over his shoulders.

Star let out a huff, but a smile spread across her face a second later as she chased not after the chicken, but Marco himself, all thoughts of preserving dignity and respect lost as she gave into the tramp’s game. “Get back here, you scoundrel!” she barked playfully.

“You’ll have to catch me, Princess,” Marco shouted over his shoulder, delighted his companion was finally joining in on the fun.

The two giggled as they raced around the yard, sending chickens fluttering into the air at every turn, the chickens themselves now forgotten as a game of chase broke out instead. Star, not used to running this much, found herself struggling to catch up to Marco but she refused to give up. Thinking quickly, she broke off course, running around the chicken coop and able to outmaneuver the hound. She let out a laugh of victory shouting, “Gotcha!” she lept towards him but he quickly jumped out of the way, causing her to land hard in the dirt.

Star sat up quickly, spitting rocks and dirt from her mouth before growling as she heard Marco’s laughter. She rose to her paws, shaking the loose dirt off her shiny fur, before shooting her friend another glare. “Oh, that’s it, you’re on now!” she yelled, barely able to suppress her own laugh. Marco fake gasped before taking off running again and Star raced after him.

The two ran around the small backyard together and Star smiled brightly, enjoying the feeling of the wind on her face, the pounding in her heart, her ears flapping behind her. All of it. And all those days, living safe and secluded in her small home melted away as the feeling of true freedom overtook her. Marco hadn’t lied to her when he said she would have fun, Star was having the time of her life and she never wanted it to end!

Star seeing several chickens pecking at the ground in front of her and Marco, smiled mischievously before letting out a loud bark, causing the birds to panic and scatter, several of them flapping their wings right in the poor dog’s face causing him to stumble back in surprise. Star used this opportunity to pounce on her companion, knocking him to the ground and pinning him under her weight. “Gotcha!” she shouted in victory, her front paws perched on his back and her head held high. “How’s that for a house pet?”

Marco chuckled, before rolling over on his back, causing her to slide off of him. The two lay on the ground for a minute, panting, staring into each other’s eyes as they smiled blissfully.

“Alright, I admit that was pretty good,” Marco finally said, his tone full of some emotion Star couldn’t quite place, but there was a tenderness in her eyes that made her tail wag in joy. “I knew there was more to you than meets the eye.”

“Hmm, turns out there’s more to you, too,” Star commented shyly, suddenly looking away to hide her burning cheeks.

“Like what?” he asked, leaning a little closer to her so their noses were almost touching.

“Like… maybe you aren’t as annoying as I thought you were,” Star answered softly. The cocker spaniel found herself scooting closer to her companion. She didn’t know what she was about to do but she knew she wanted whatever it was to happen.

“You might even be really… nice,” she finished.

There was now almost no space between them, their faces so close Star could smell Marco’s scent. It was musty and gritty but full of so much life and she wanted to know more. She wanted to know everything about Marco, wanted to be a part of his life in the same way he had become a part of hers. She wanted-

“Hey!” A loud voice interrupted the moment and Star looked over to see a human, an angry scowl on his face and a gleaming gray tool perched tightly in his hands. Star shivered at the hatred on the man’s face and she thought she saw Marco put a protective paw in front of her but it could have been her imagination. “Stop scaring my chickens, you mutts!” The man raised the shiny barrel so it was now facing right towards the pair of dogs and Star felt her heart drop.

Marco let out a loud bark, which caused the man to jump and a loud bang rang through the air, hurting Star’s sensitive ears. The ground right beside her paw was stuck by something hard and fast, kicking dirt up into the air and terror shot through Star as she instinctively pulled her paw away from the sudden impact. “Run!” Marco shouted and Star didn’t have to be told twice. The two raced out the open gate, several chickens flapping out of their way and scattering into the street. Another loud bang sounded behind Star, who flinched but didn’t dare turn to see what it was, her heart racing quickly in her chest.

She just focused on following Marco and not on the loud, angry shouts of the cruel man that grew further and further away. The street dog led them onto the street and Star didn’t hesitate to follow him, hoping he knew best. But at that exact moment, a car pulled out right in front of them and Star froze in terror. Thankfully, the car swerved to avoid hitting her, honking loudly in annoyance but sparing her life, thankfully. Star shook her head to free herself from her paralzed state and quickly chased after Marco, who was now quite a bit ahead of her.

The street dog seemed to not notice his companion lagging behind as he swerved around several humans who now crowded the sidewalks. Star saw Marco disappear around a corner and quickly followed after him.

Star found herself in an abandoned alleyway and she sighed in relief to be out of the street and away from danger. But this was short-lived as she realized she didn’t see Marco anywhere. “Marco?” she called, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. After the scare earlier the silence of the alley was unnerving to Star and she felt her body shaking some against her will. She tried to hide her fear but her body didn’t seem to want to obey as she shuddered and shook, taking hesitant steps farther into the dark, abandoned alley. Her voice grew quiet as she softly called out for her companion, getting weaker and weaker as she received no answer. Where was he?

Star was starting to question if she had gone the wrong way, when she heard something behind her and her heart leapt in joy. “Marco!” she called hopefully.

But her hopes were dashed as a pair of rough looking street dogs emerged from the shadows. Their fur was matted and dirty, their faces set in permanent snears, while their eyes burned with both hunger and anger in equal intensity, everything about them gave Star the creeps and she found herself backing away from them as they approached. They blocked Star’s only exit out of the alley, living her trapped with these vile creatures... alone.

“Well look what we have here,” one of the dog’s said, the disgust in his tone clear and Star noticed there was a piece missing from his left ear. “A prissy pet has wandered into our territory.”

Star shrank under the intense gaze, keeping herself as low to the ground as she could, trying to look as non-threatening as possible in the hopes they would leave her alone. But that seemed to be wishful thinking.

“What’s the matter, little lady, wander away from your humans or did they throw you out on the streets like the rest of us?” the dog said again, clearly the leader.

Star felt a sudden burst of anger at the comment and held her head high as she responded critically, “Perhaps if you weren’t so ugly or rude you would have a chance to live outside of the gutter. But it seems you two are exactly where you belong.”

The two dogs just stared at her stunned for a second, not sure how to respond to the harsh criticism and Star felt a small burst of pride for standing up for herself. However, this quickly turned to regret as the dogs let out deep guttural growls, their faces filled with fury and Star instantly wished she hadn’t provoked them.

“Well it seems the princess has quite a bark on her,” the lead dog said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and envy. He slowly stalked closer and Star backed away nervously, only to run into a large wooden fence, trapping her and leaving her at the mercy of these vicious creatures. Both hounds sneared at their prey’s helpless predicament, clearly enjoying Star’s looks of panic and quivering body, her fur practically standing on end. They moved torturously slowly, playing with their victim as they savored her terror. “Let’s see if your bite is just as sharp,” the lead dog growled.

With that he sprang towards her, jaw opened wide, his fangs ready to sink into flesh and fur and Star screamed, turning her head away and squeezing her eyes shut so she didn’t have to see her own death. But at the last second, something flew over the fence, a flash of brown descending quickly and landing between Star and the street dogs, slamming into the attacking leader and knocking him to the ground.

Star hesitantly peaked open an eye only for them to widen in surprise as she saw the determined, brash form of Marco now standing protectively in front of her. He was lowered to the ground in a defensive stance, the nails of his claws digging slightly into the smooth tile, looking ready to attack at any second. His ears were lowered in a threatening manner and his face had contorted into a chilling snarl, baring his fangs at the rival dogs, a deep growl echoing from his throat. Star’s mouth hung open as she stared longingly at Marco, in that moment she couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than the sight of her friend coming to her rescue. Her heart was beating violently in her chest but if it was out of fear or love Star couldn’t determine, ultimately deciding it was a strange mixture of both somehow.

“Stay away from her!” Marco barked out in warning and Star felt a chill run through her. This dog before her was nothing like the annoying mutt she had grown to care for. The Marco she knew was all smooth smiles and playful looks, but this dog in front of her… he was a predator at its purest form. His every move, every inflection, every action was focused on one task only- to defend. Star realized she was seeing yet another side of Marco today. The true primitive animal that lay beneath the levels of charm and charisma. And yet, instead of fear, Star only felt herself falling all the harder for her companion.

Because he was protecting her and that was all that mattered.

The two dogs were not deterred by Marco’s death-filled glares, instead this only seemed to anger them more as the lead dog scoffed and snapped, “Oh what? Are you seriously going to try and tell me you are protecting this pet?”

Marco only growled in response, his eyes narrowing and seeming to scream ‘Just try something I dare you’.

The lead dog seemed amused by this as his and his partner started to circle around Marco, looking for an opening and Marco watched them wearily. “Didn’t realize you were so soft,” the lead dog taunted. “Can’t believe you would actually risk your life for an outsider. You’re one of us, remember?”

“I am nothing like you!” Marco barked and that seemed to bring the tension to its boiling point as all at once a fight broke out.

Star could barely track the flurry of claws and teeth and fur as the hounds mangled one another in any way they could. Marco fought valiantly against his two opponents, sinking his teeth into any patch of fur that drifted too close, while easily dodging out of the way of the others' attacks on him.

The smaller dog managed to sneak up behind Marco and jumped onto his back, Marco letting out a howl of pain as its sharp fangs bit into flesh. But with a simple kick of his backpaws the other dog went flying, slamming hard into a trashcan and letting out its own yelp of agony.

The lead dog then caught Marco by surprise, as it snapped its jaw around Marco’s left paw, pressing down and drawing blood, staining Marco’s fur red. Marco again let out a cry of pain but was quick to retaliate, using his good paw to slam into the dog’s face, catching him right in the eye and the lead dog yelped and pulled away.

But the lead dog shrugged off its injury, snarling and going in for the kill, its dripping fangs opened wide as it headed straight for Marco’s throat, ready to tear it out in one motion. But Marco saw the attack coming from a mile away, stepping out of the way and burying his own fangs in the back of the hound’s neck as he passed. He used the momentum to throw the dog across the alley, the vile dog slamming into the same trashcan as his partner, the two now laying in a heap on the ground.

They recovered slowly, raising their heads as they looked over to their opponent with bleary, pain-filled eyes. Marco towered over them, his eyes flashing with murder as he growled sharply, “Had enough.”

The other dogs lost their nerve, shrinking in fear before the menacing Marco, whimpering nervously as the lead dog muttered, “Okay, okay, fine. You win. You and the pet get off easy, this time. But if I see you in my territory again-”

Marco stepped closer so they were now face to face, his eyes flashing dangerously as he growled, “Oh yeah and what are you gonna do?”

The lead dog struggled to keep a straight face as he backed away from the superior hound, him and his lackey now the ones shaking in fear. Marco let out a sharp sniff before declaring, “Now get out of here before I change my mind and finish what you started!”

The two dogs didn’t have to be told twice as they ran speedily away, their tails tucked between their legs as they fearfully escaped Marco’s wrath. Star breathed a sigh of relief when the two dogs vanished from view but stared at her friend in concern as his body remained tense and alert. She approached him slowly, reluctantly, afraid he might lash out at her if she made any loud noises but he didn’t. He simply glared off into the distance, his posture threatening and calloused.

“Marco?” Star whispered anxiously. She didn’t like seeing her friend this way. Now that the danger had passed she wished the annoying but lovable Marco would return to her, seeing him go from a carefree puppy into this wild animal was too much for her mind to comprehend.

But slowly, cautiously Marco began to relax. His tight muscles loosened and his fur flattened back into place. His posture grew less rigid and more easygoing. His twisted expression melted into a vacant, far-off look and his hardened gaze slowly softened as he turned to address her. Star nearly fainted with relief, Marco still far from his playful self, but it was still much better.

Marco blinked once as his eyes seemed to focus in on her face and he muttered softly, “Star.” He regarded her for another second, his brown orbs scanning her up and down before he finally added, “You okay?”

Star nodded dumbly, not sure she could produce words right now, her throat tight from the terrifying ordeal. Marco gave her a worried look but sighed in relief saying, “Thank goodness. I was worried those jerks might have hurt you.”

“Do you…” Star began, before reconsidering, wanting to word this correctly to avoid upsetting her friend. “Does that happen… often?”

“What, the fights?” Marco asked, an eyebrow slowly raising.

Star nodded, before explaining, “You seemed like it wasn’t your first.”

Marco scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Well to be fair, that was hardly what I would call a fight. Those two idiots had no idea what they were doing. I’ve been in way tougher scrapes then-” Marco cut himself off when he noticed Star’s eyes widening. He quickly corrected himself, plastering on a forced smile, “Uhh, I mean, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m as tough as they come, Star.”

“I-I see,” Star muttered, not sure what else to say. Life on the streets must be hard if this experience was anything to go by and she wanted to cry as she imagined all the times Marco must have been hurt or scared. While she was busy living it up in a house where her every need was cared for, he was busy trying to stay alive.

Marco, almost as if reading her thoughts, suddenly told her in a calm, even tone, “Hey, don’t worry about me, I love living on the streets even if things are a little rough sometimes. Life out here isn’t all bad, I swear. That just.. wasn’t the best example.” Marco rolled his eyes before adding, “I just can’t believe those mutts would attack you like that! If I ever see them again I’ll-” His gaze hardened and a low growl echoed in his throat as he thought of the two attack dogs.

Star quickly cut in before her friend could lose himself to his anger, blurting out, “No, no, I’m fine, really! They didn’t do anything to me! Although that’s mostly thanks to you.” She blushed slightly at this but gave him a bright smile. “Thank you, by the way, for saving me.”

“No problem, princess,” Marco replied, a cheery grin lighting up his face. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you get killed on your first trip into town?”

Star giggled slightly as she added playfully, “Oh yeah, is that more of a third trip kind of thing orrrr-”

Marco laughed and Star felt her heart thump against her chest at the sweet sound. “I see this experience hasn’t hurt your witty comebacks at all,” he said, giving her a knowing look.

“You wish,” Star replied with a teasing grin.

Marco opened his mouth to say something else, moving towards her in emphasis, but instead hissed in pain, cringing as his left paw touched the ground. Star’s eyes widened in concern and she asked worriedly, “What’s wrong?”

The street dog lifted his hurt paw up, cringing in pain, and that’s when she saw the damage the two dogs had done to him. Blood was dripping from the wound, staining his fur red, and it hurt Star just looking at it. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” she shouted, moving closer to properly inspect the wound.

“But Marco quickly brushed off Star’s concern, telling her in a slightly strained tone, “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch is all.”

Star gave him a doubting look. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad.”

“Nah, just gotta walk it off is all,” he said, before flashing a wide, goofy grin in her direction. Star felt her heart go out to her friend, her stomach churning slightly with guilt over him getting hurt protecting her. He was clearly more hurt than he was letting on and Star wanted desperately to help him in some way. She wanted to repay him for what he had done for her, some small token of her gratitude. And this seemed like the simplest way of doing that.

She scanned her brain, thinking hard for an idea, when suddenly a thought popped into her head. She smiled softly to herself before turning her head as far around as it could. Marco watched her curiously as she shook her head back and forth a few times, finally managing to grab a loose end with her teeth, before she slowly pulled it loose. The bow came undone, the ribbon now hanging loosely in her mouth and she carried it over to her friend’s paw. She carefully began wrapping the stretch of cloth over Marco’s injured paw as the street dog stood there in stunned silence.

It took a bit of time, having to use her nose, paw, and teeth to tie the make-shift bandage into place, but slowly, meticulously she managed to wrap up the wound. And with a final tug on the ribbon, Star let go, moving back to admire her work.

Marco stared down at the ribbon in confusion, before looking back up at her, a tenderness in his eyes that did all kinds of crazy things to Star’s heart. “Why did you do that?” he asked, looking so baffled that Star almost laughed out loud at the strange expression.

“Well, I had to stop the blood somehow,” she replied instead. “It was dripping all over the pavement.”

“No, I mean, your pretty bow, you kinda just ruined it,” Marco said, his voice hushed. “Wasn’t this important to you?”

Star shook her head. “You needed it more than I did,” she replied simply. “Besides Eclipsa and Globgor can always get me a new one.”

Marco’s eyes flooded with deep affection, a fondness that went so much deeper than he seemed to be able to comprehend, and Star knew without a doubt she was finally seeing the whole Marco. There was a longing there, a need for companionship that he had been starved of for so long, but also slight fear, like he was afraid to give himself away to her, his guarded heart opening up just a little wider to let her in. And from the way his eyes roamed over her face, it was like he was seeing her for the first time.

And honestly, Star understood all of this, because she was feeling it herself.

But instead of trying to run from this feeling, she embraced it, welcoming it openly. Because she liked this feeling and she didn’t want it to stop. She wanted it to be a part of her and she hoped that Marco wanted that, too.

After a few awkward minutes of gawking at each other in silence, the spell was broken not by one of the dogs but by a car horn from the street outside the alley, the loud noise causing both of them to jump and bringing them crashing back to reality. Star shook her head, before staring up at the darkening sky, declaring nervously, “Oh no, it’s getting late. I should probably get back to the house.”

Marco nodded in agreement, although he seemed disappointed at this news. “Yeah, that would be best, I guess.” He turned to lead her out of the alley, his tail hanging limply between his legs and his ears lowered in sadness. “Come on, princess. I’ll walk you back.”

Star stared back at him in sympathy before rushing to catch up, not wanting to risk being separated from him… again. She walked with him side by side, staring at his depressed face for a few seconds before saying softly, “Uh, hey. Thanks for bringing me along. Sorry for the trouble I caused you.”

Marco shook his head. “No, no, you aren’t any trouble. I’m just sorry things got so… tense back there. Looks like my efforts to show you the wonders of life off the leash didn’t work out so well, huh? You’ll probably never want to step foot outside your fence after all that.”

“Actually, I had a good time,” Star told him and he turned to her with shock.

“Seriously?” he asked, giving her a disbelieving look.

“Well, okay it got a little crazy and traumatizing there at the end,” she admitted before letting out an involuntary shudder. She gave him a bright grin as she added, “But I’m glad I decided to come with you. I never realized how boring and predictable my life was before. Or just how much I was missing out on. So thank you, for showing me.”

Marco was still giving her an incredulous look, still too dumbfounded for words. And Star found his awkward gawking adorable, adding sweetly, “But maybe next time we can do something a little more relaxing.”

This finally seemed to get Marco’s attention as he asked excitedly, “Next time.” His eyes shimmered with anticipation, his tail starting to wag, once again.

Star nodded. “Mmhmm ‘next time’,” she repeated, giving him a shamelessly flirty grin.

Marco’s eyes flashed mischievously as he declared in a hinting tone, “Well, y’know I do happen to know a little place here in town, if you’re interested.”

“Oh. What did you have in mind?” she asked, giving him a small nudge with her shoulder.

“It’s a nice Italian restaurant. The owners and I go way back and they are also generous with the hand-outs. Their pizzas are okay but their spaghetti is to die for.”

Star giggled, her heart thumping eagerly against her chest. “Sounds perfect.”

“So, pick you up at your place, late tonight? After the owners are asleep.” His eyes were full of hope and joy and so many emotions at once that it almost made Star ache. He was opening himself up to her again, letting his true self show and Star knew she had to grab on tight. Grab on and never let go.

Because if she was being honest with herself, life with Marco was what living was really all about.

“It’s a date.”

#Star vs #Star vs AU #My Writing #kikithefox231 #Lady and the Tramp AU #Starco #Bad boy x princess

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ikesenhell · 4 years

Text

The First Thing

You can find all other IkeSen/IkeVamp works of mine here! NOTES: AT LAST I RETURN. I made this almost explicitly to annoy @a-shout-to-the-void. I had to make an entire playlist to write this... you know that ‘boyfriend’ by Ariana Grande actually is very helpful for this? (and ‘bitches broken hearts’ by Billie Eilish, who knew) ---

When she started looking at him--really looking at him, investigating his features and cadence, memorizing the sound of his voice--she noticed his hands first. She never told him. If she’d asked what he wanted her to notice, she assumed Arthur would chuckle (in that delightful, infuriating, charming accent of his) and say, “Darling, aren’t there a thousand things about me you could look at?”

Famous author he was. ‘Pain in the ass’ could be added to that list.

His mouth was a liar and she wished it would shut up more often (the man wrote Sherlock Holmes and couldn’t catch a clue, apparently; his motor-mouth flirtations drove her insane). His eyes went along with the facade. What a liar the body could be!

But his hands? They were the crack in his armor. She learned the way he curled his fingers slow around mugs when he was thinking, curled playfully in teacup handles, rapped annoyance against his pockets. When nothing else in his flirtations gave him away, that did.

(As much as it was the chink in his mask, it was hers, too. It was the first thing she’d liked about him. His hands made her think he might even be tolerable.)

The second thing she liked was his idiosyncrasies. She wasn’t too given to sweets--she’d always preferred savory things--but the day she rapped on his door to deliver a fresh mug of coffee and a block of fudge, he was too distracted to disguise them.

“Set it down there,” he gestured, not rising from his typewriter (a horrific, spiderweb contraption that the Comte got for him and he so obviously hadn’t adapted to). “I’ll get to it.”

She set the platter down within his arm’s reach and set about collecting the other stray mugs around his room. When she turned, he was absently breaking off hunks of fudge and dropping it into the coffee, brow furrowed, chewing on his lip, pecking away with a single finger on the keys. It was almost charming. She thought about her grandfather doing his best with his home computer, hammering out emails punctuated with ellipses between his pointer fingers.

“Has no one taught you how to type on that?” She asked.

Arthur blinked owlishly over his frames at her. “Is there a certain way?”

Did Arthur Conan Doyle write by hand? She cast the thought from her mind and instead savored that he’d addressed her like a human being and not a snack conveniently wrapped in a skirt, that out of his vest and with his shirt slightly unbuttoned and the sweet abomination of chocolates in his coffee, he was almost lovable. She placed the last dirty mug on her tray and balanced it against her hip. “There is. There’s a hand placement that makes it easier. After that, it’s just practice.” A beat. “It’s sort of like playing the piano. Have you played?”

“No. I play violin.”

She almost asked, ‘like Sherlock Holmes?’ and thought better of it. “Well, I suppose it could be a little like that. Do you need anything else?”

“No. Thank you.” Arthur cast her a smile--a wonderful, ordinary smile. “I don’t suppose you’d teach this old chap how to type sometime?”

“I suppose I could do that, if Sebastian doesn’t need me at some point.”

Arthur’s eyes crinkled. “Well, do let me know.”

When she left the room, he was back to pecking away at the keyboard. She cast one glance back--he was slurping down the sludge of chocolate and sugar and coffee--and wondered if the warmth in her chest was something she ought to worry about.

---

The third thing she liked was his puppy. Vic was adorable; watching them cuddle and romp on the lawn behind the mansion warmed her heart. The spaniel bounded after her skirts as she hung the wash, rolled on her shoes and looked longingly up at her.

“Hey baby!” His head was silky under her fingers; obviously, he was cared for. Arthur, panting, caught up a few moments later.

“My apologies, my dear.” He played at an approximation of Napoleon’s bow, but too loose and formless, smiling all the while. It was so boyish and delightful that she smiled despite herself, heart surging. “It seems he’s gotten away from me. I’ll get him out from under you.”

“It’s no problem. I love dogs.” She scratched under the puppy’s chin, watching the tail wriggle on the grass. “I had one, actually. Her name was Neo, short for Neopolitan.”

“Neopolitan! What a divine name.” Arthur dove over Vic, nuzzling the spaniel. “Almost as regal as you, baby boy!”

She grinned and flapped out another shirt (one of Arthur’s, incidentally), pinning it to the line. “You’re not getting blood on your shirts anymore.”

“Am I not?” He shrugged, as if it were nothing at all. “Interesting. Vic! Want to play fetch?”

Vic yelped happily, darting away once more, and as Arthur cursed and scrambled to his knees after, she found herself watching as he ran.

---

Seasons turned, and so did they. As gradual as the waning months from summer’s height into the shimmering twilight of fall, everything changed.

“You know, my dear,” he said one night, hunched over the typewriter he still had not mastered (but he was using all of his fingers now at her instruction, which she considered a win), “I’m rather fond of you.”

“You’re fond of all women,” she replied easily, fixing his hand placement on the left. “You hit the ‘enter’ key with your little finger. Trying to use your ring finger like that is causing you problems.”

He wasn’t looking at the keys anymore. Those blue eyes were trained on her, mouth set in a long frown. “I’m serious.”

Was he? She faltered, uncertain of where to turn. Arthur showing vulnerability was almost impossible to comprehend. Was this a ploy? Was this how he lured so many women into his arms? Was this why his shirts were so often flecked with stranger’s blood? Come to think of it, that hadn’t happened in a while.

“I…” She trailed off. “I don’t know what you mean by that. I guess I’m getting close to everyone.”

His correction was as swift as sharp. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Have you seen blood on my shirts recently? I’m not out looking for any old skirt to bring home.” He peered intently at her, waiting for a reaction. She stood stone-faced.

(Because what if he was just saying that? What if he--with all his quirks and humor and love of animals and quick tongue and razor mind--was playing the latest caper on her? What if he truly just thought she was someone to play with? What if this was all a sick game? Her heart hurt--it hurt, it hurt, it hurt under the weight of imagining him wrapping her in those arms, with the imagined long evenings in his room reading the latest books.)

“What,” she scoffed, disbelieving, “should I give you a piece of paper to check off to ask if you ‘like’ me or ‘like like’ me?”

Arthur cocked a brow. “Would that clarify things for you?”

She turned on her heel and left, swinging the bedroom door hard behind her.

---

Damn him, he was telling the truth.

Quizzing Theo was exactly as illuminating as she’d suspected it would be. He’d noticed Arthur’s recent change--that he came home from the bars at the same time without vanishing into some side room, that he was ordering alcohol (which he never did when he was chasing a woman), that he was drinking blanc like water (and he was, she could vouch to that--he kept ordering it to his room).

“Is there a reason for all the questions, Hondje?” Those piercing eyes cut straight through her. Determined to stay them, she slid another warmed pitcher of syrup to him.

“I mixed it with butter this time,” she told him. “The way my grandmother did. You’ll probably like it like that.”

He frowned, placated for the moment, and tested it on a bite of pancake. Success; his whole face illuminated. “Not bad, Knabbeltje.”

“Glad you like it.”

Theo reached out and caught her by the wrist before she could turn away, expression serious once more. “He’s fallen for you.”

(And she wanted to say ‘Good for him’ and pretend not to care, but she remembered the way his shoulders curved over a piece of paper as he wrote with an ink pen, how he could take the tiniest pieces of information and discover everything about it, how he’d smuggled so many of the encyclopedias into his bedroom that the Comte caved and bought Arthur a shelf full of his own, how he smiled when he was really and truly enjoying himself.)

She swallowed. “How do you know?”

Theo released her and leaned back in his chair, scowling as if he’d never cared to begin with. “Pretty sure you knew that already. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here asking me all this.”

---

It was raining cats and dogs that night, and she hadn’t talked to Arthur in three days. But he was heading out with Theo to the pub, and Sebastian was nowhere to be found, so she took it upon herself to find their raincoats. By the time she returned to the hall, only Arthur was standing there.

“Where did Theo go?” She asked.

Arthur shrugged and pointed up the steps. “He forgot his wallet.”

It sounded like a lie, but it wasn’t delivered like one. Arthur’s hands remained telltale still at his wrists, picking at the buttons. She draped Theo’s coat across the rack and held out Arthur’s, helping him into the sleeves. He let her adjust his raincoat, eyes never leaving hers, not once. She just busied herself with the buttons. Then he took one step forward, gloved hands pinning hers to his chest.

"I know what game you're playing," he whispered. Was he serious? Joking? It was impossible to tell. "You're waiting to see if I’m serious or simply indulging a passing fancy."

Theo wasn't back yet. She swallowed hard. "Am I?"

"You are." A pause. He trailed his nose against the ridge of her ear and she shivered. "If I break and pick up a skirt at the bar. If I come back with blood on my vest. If I have someone else's perfume on. You don't trust me--not yet."

Her fingers, somehow, were bunched in his vest. She tried to ease up, turned her head away from him. He just followed. The slope of his mouth skated down against her neck and she wondered what it would be like for him to leave a hickey there instead. Would it burn like her heart did around him? She could smell his cologne and coffee and fudge and ink and it all spelled ‘Arthur’ in cursive letters, etched in the most primal part of her soul.

"Maybe," she hedged, breathless.

"No 'maybes', Love," he sighed against her. "But I'm a stubborn man. You'll see. I meant every word."

---

His whole body wrote love letters to her.

She knew it, too. He was so touchy when she’d first arrived at the mansion, and now--now the gulf between them was thick with the promise of all he might do. Arthur lingered around her shoulders, his hands deftly handing her pins to hang the laundry when she dropped them in the garden, appearing as if summoned when she needed something from a high shelf. It made her ache.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” she fussed at him in the pantry, soft so Sebastian couldn’t hear. Arthur smiled at her over his coffee mug, finger tapping. She was right.

“Am I?” He evaded.

“You are,” she pressed.

“What, praytell, am I doing?”

(Making me want you so badly I could scream. Ghosting around me.)

“Being a fucking dick.”

Arthur’s eyes blew wide with surprise, and then he laughed so loud and genuine that Sebastian appeared around the corner and squinted. “My! That’s a turn of phrase I didn't expect.”

“You deserved it,” she announced. “I’m not taking it back.”

She still corrected his typing when she came through to fetch his coffee mugs. He was fast now. The metallic hammer of keys echoed down the hall, silencing only when she entered. Thick flakes fluttered past his windowpane, falling in sheets over the gazebo, and Arthur looked up with a paintbrush and a capful of white oil paint.

She paused. “What are you doing?”

He scowled and motioned at the page. “Typo. That’s how I know I’m old; misspelling words that I ought to know better about. I found that it’s much easier to simply paint over the word, wind it back, and retype the blasted thing on top when it dries.”

Was that how White-Out got invented? She didn't mention that and instead commented lightly, “Smart.”

Arthur shot her a wink and a smile, turning in his chair and taking his coffee with murmured thanks. “What are you doing after this?”

“Nothing, I suppose. I was thinking about doing some journaling.”

His smile vanished into nothing, fingers rolling thoughtfully along the ceramic mug. At long last, he said, “Is that pressing?”

“I guess not. Why?”

“Then stay.”

Somewhere above them, Mozart’s piano started, a sonata he’d been slaving on for months. Apparently he’d finished it; the notes glided through the ceiling, echoing against her hammering ribs. Arthur waited, silent and pensive.

She swallowed. “What happens if I stay?”

“Nothing.” A beat. “Everything. Whatever you like.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Those blue eyes roved around the room, as if hiding all the things they could invent. “If I’m perfectly honest, I was thinking of a cuddle.”

“A cuddle? Just one?” She teased, propping her tray on her hip. “You Brits have to specify.”

He chanced a grin. “Well, perhaps more than one cuddle. We could sit together on the couch, perhaps read a while. Something quiet. Would that suit you?”

Overhead, Mozart hit a sour note of frustration and fell silent once more. She inhaled sharply.

“Two conditions.”

“I’ll have them.”

“One, I have to bring Sebastian his tray back. Two, I’m bringing you some rouge. You have to drink it beforehand.”

Arthur clicked his tongue, but smiled again. “You drive a hard bargain. I’ll take it.”

---

He was pacing when she returned, sleeves rolled back, a few books lying on the coffee table as if he would need to sell her on any of them. He didn't. She shut the door tight behind her and handed him the rouge (which he drank a little too quickly, fingers fumbling with the stopper as if he’d never seen the bottle before).

“Well.” He slumped into the couch, bringing his legs up with him. “I laid out some novels--”

“Great,” she replied, and settled inbetween his legs to rest on his chest. “You enjoy them.”

Arthur inhaled. His pulse thrummed wildly against her ear, the smooth plane of him comfortable and easy. “Do… do you want any of them?”

“No. I’ve been working all day. I’m alright with resting.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her shoulder, hands cool and nervous on her skin. “I’ll admit, I didn't expect you to just go for this.”

She paused only a moment before admitting, “If I didn't just do it, I knew I was going to be too scared.”

“Too scared for…?”

“Doing what I wanted to do.”

Arthur’s hand--one of those honest, understanding hands--slid upward into her hair, easing her body upward along his. He was all high-strung sinew and bone and flesh, reassuringly solid and hypnotizing. His mouth against her forehead was a relief; against her ear, a taste; against her jaw, a promise; against her shoulder, a tease.

“Stay tonight,” he whispered in the curve of her skin. Only Arthur could make begging sound seductive. “Here, with me. Don’t make me let you go. You’ve only just arrived, I can’t possibly let you go now.”

She entwined her fingers with his (the very first thing she’d ever liked about him), relishing the ghost of his mouth against her skin, and then--oh, there he was, his lips near hers, and regardless of who leaned first she tasted him with abandon. She was more given to savory things, but when it was him, she supposed a little sugar didn't hurt. His tongue tasted of chocolate and coffee and moved so slow and smooth that when they parted, she gasped.

“Please,” he murmured, and punctuated it by sucking on her lower lip (damn writers; they always knew how to end a sentence).

“I’ll think about it,” she breathed, knowing full well the answer. “But you can try and convince me.”

#ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #The First Thing #fluff #slow burn #Ikemen Vampire #Yesha Writes

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iamthegaysmurf · 5 years

Note

Just because I love your writing so much and I'm feeling soft, would you be willing to write a short little fic about Nicole taking care of Waverly on her period?

These two went pretty well together, so I combined them. I hope that’s okay.

I’m sorry these are taking me so long, but I promise I’m still working through all of them, however slowly it might be.

Also, once again, I demonstrated my inability to write a “short ficlet.” This one is very close to 5k words. WHOOPS.

—–

Set during Season 2, after the events of 2x06, but before the beginning of 2x07.

—–

“…right on my front lawn.”

If disdain could take a tangible form, Mrs. Berg would be dripping it all over Nicole’s desk. She’s been carrying on like this for over thirty minutes already, and Nicole knows that Nedley recently reminded her about the importance of protecting the ordinary, innocent citizens of Purgatory, but she’s hard-pressed to believe that this is what he’d had in mind.

“And then…”

She continues droning on, but Nicole is no longer listening. Waverly just entered the station, heading for the Black Badge office, and Nicole can immediately tell that something is… off. Setting aside the fact that she’s over an hour late, Waverly’s hunched forward as she walks, her eyes downcast, and the bag she has slung over her shoulder seems like it’s weighing her down in more ways than one. Her entire body sags under the burden of it, and it looks like she’s dragging ass so badly, Nicole is sure she’s leaving tracks behind her.

There’s usually only one thing that can harrow Waverly to this extent, but given the recent pregnancy revelation, Wynonna has actually been on her best behavior the last couple of weeks.

That only leaves…

Nicole subtly glances at the calendar on her desk to confirm her suspicions: it’s that time of the month, and from the looks of it, Mother Nature is dragging Waverly over the coals this time around.

All Nicole wants to do is go and take care of her disheveled girlfriend, but instead, her attention snaps back to Mrs. Berg as her spiel finally draws to a close.

“And that is why I’d like to file a formal complaint against Ms. Doucette and that… that… hell hound of hers.” She clutches at her farmer’s market necklace as though it’s some heirloom string of pearls. “Honestly,” she continues to mutter under her breath, “spawn of the devil, that thing is.”

It takes all of Nicole’s finely-tuned control not to roll her eyes right in front of Mrs. Berg, and Ruthie’s blatant snort from across the room is not helping. Ruthie and Miss Linda have been friends for over sixty years, and Rosie – Miss Linda’s springer spaniel mix – is the furthest thing from a hell hound Nicole has ever seen. And she would know, because she’s pretty sure she had a run in with a real hell hound out behind the old boot factory a couple of months ago.

Still, Nicole knows she has to keep a straight face and take this complaint just like she would any other. Nedley told her he had big plans for her future, and part of being a good Sheriff is knowing how to keep the peace for all of her citizens. Even the ones who think they’re somehow above this backwater town they’ve chosen to live in. At least Waverly is teaching her how to master the smile and wave.

It’s perfect for situations like this.

“Of course, Mrs. Berg,” Nicole says patiently, letting her dimple show as she smiles warmly at the hag of a woman standing in front of her. “If you could just fill this out for me. In triplicate,” she adds, handing Mrs. Berg the complaint forms for Bylaw 23M2006, the Responsible Pet Ownership ordinance.

“You’re saying I have to fill out all of this paperwork myself?” Mrs. Berg asks, clearly offended by the notion.

“Oh, yes,” she answers. Despite the fact that Ruthie is snickering from her desk again, Nicole manages to put on her best serious face. “I’m afraid it’s protocol, ma’am. All official grievances must be filled out and signed by the complainant, otherwise they’re null and void.” She holds the forms out again, doing her best to hide the smug grin that’s fighting to break through. “You can have a seat over there and use one of the clipboards if you’d like to get started,” she continues innocently, pointing at a row of chairs with cracked vinyl coverings lined up against the wall on the other side of the counter.

“I don’t have time for this nonsense,” Mrs. Berg scoffs, pushing the papers back in Nicole’s face. She grabs her faux-designer handbag off the counter and practically stomps back down the hall to the front door, her high heels clacking dramatically all the way.

“Have a nice day, ma’am!” Nicole calls after her, unable to help herself, and Ruthie finally loses it completely.

“Well, that’s one way to handle the bullshit, kid,” she manages through her cackling, and Nicole doesn’t even try to stifle the little giggle that bubbles up as she slumps back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Honestly,” she sighs. “Rosie is the sweetest dog I’ve ever met. The kids love her, the officers love her… everyone loves her.” She drops her hand and shakes her head, looking over at Ruthie. “How could anyone want to file a complaint about Rosie or Miss Linda?”

She makes a note to bring some extra treats for Rosie the next time she checks in on Miss Linda. Maybe even a new bandana for her to wear around her collar.

“Listen, Haught. There’s something you’ll learn reeeeal quick about ol’ Laura Berg.” She leans in, like she’s about to impart one of life’s greatest secrets. “That woman is so full of herself, she’s nothing more than pompous old blowhard.”

Nicole snorts, not expecting that kind of candor. Ruthie’s never one to hide her opinion, but she’s not usually so blunt about it. Nicole raises a curious eyebrow, and Ruthie waves her hand dismissively.

“She’s been like this since we were in school. Used to call her Hexie when she wasn’t around because she’s such a witch about everything.”

“Seriously?” Nicole chokes out, unable to hide her laughter any longer.

“Still call her that most of the time,” Ruthie answers with a wicked grin. “If you don’t believe me, just ask Mama Lou when you head over there to get your girl some coffee.”

“Wh-what?” Nicole was certainly planning to run across to Mama Lou’s for some fresh coffee and maybe a snack, but unless she’s completely lost her mind, she’s pretty sure she hadn’t actually said anything about that yet.

“I’m not stupid, kid,” Ruthie laughs at the face Nicole is making. “I saw you watching her from the moment she set foot in here, and she definitely looks like she could use a pick-me-up. You know I’m not wrong. I’ve told you before… I know everything.”

“Right. I’m beginning to believe that…” Nicole mumbles, her face burning red as she scratches at the back of her neck. “Well, uh… can I get you anything while I’m out?”

“Nah, I’m good. Just steer clear of Hexie. Wouldn’t want her to cast a spell on you,” Ruthie says, wiggling her fingers dramatically.

Nicole crumples up a Post-It and throws it at her on her way out.

“Mmmm… You smell good…”

“Thanks,” Nicole chuckles, leaning down to kiss the top of Waverly’s head. She’s been standing in the doorway to the Black Badge office for several minutes now, but Waverly was too focused on the books in front of her to notice. “But it’s not me this time.”

“It’s not?” Waverly finally looks up, confused. Nicole can see the bags under her eyes, and immediately feels something squeeze in her chest.

“Well, I suppose it technically is,” Nicole considers for a moment before dropping a small, white paper sack on the desk next the coffee she just placed in front of Waverly. “But I brought you some vanilla donuts from Mama Lou’s. You looked like you could use them.”

“Thanks, baby,” Waverly says with a weary smile, sagging slightly against the desk. “I’m just so exhausted lately.” She digs into the sack, making an obscene noise when she bites into one of the donuts.

“I know. It’s that time, isn’t it?” Nicole asks, taking a sip of her own coffee.

“Yeah,” Waverly sighs. “But it’s usually not quite this bad. I think I’m just rundown from everything else that’s going on, too.”

“Hey,” Nicole says gently. “You’re allowed to need a break, baby. Nobody expects you to go balls to the wall, twenty-four-seven.” She places another kiss to Waverly’s temple. “Can I rub your back for you?”

“God. Yes.” Waverly slumps forward, resting her forehead on the desk, exposing the litany of knots that run up and down along her spine and across her shoulders. “Please,” she grunts, when Nicole’s fingers find their way to the small of her back.

Nicole spends the next fifteen minutes carefully working out the knotted muscles, the silence only broken by the occasional short gasp or drawn out moan. She half expects Wynonna to come crashing through the door at any second with a smug look on her face when she thinks she’s performing another Wynonnus Interruptus. For once, she’d be completely wrong, and Nicole would love to give her some shit for it.

“I hope you’re not drooling on that page,” she finally says after checking her watch.

Waverly grumbles and shoves at her playfully, but wipes the back of her hand across her mouth just the same.

“As much as I wish I could stay here and do this all day, I’ve gotta get back to work, baby.” Nicole strokes her fingers through Waverly’s hair a few times. “My break’s over, and I’ve got a lot to do before my shift is over.”

“Everything okay?” Waverly asks, suddenly concerned.

“Yeah, it’s nothing bad,” Nicole reassures her. “Just Nedley giving me a few more responsibilities around here ever since he mentioned the…” her voice drops to barely a whisper, “…the Sheriff thing.” She looks around before continuing, as if anyone else would be in the Black Badge office with them. “I’m taking my new duties seriously. I don’t want to let him down.”

“You won’t,” Waverly says, her voice going soft to match the look in her eyes. She reaches out to take Nicole’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so proud of you, Nicole.”

Nicole melts a little at that, a warmth blooming in her chest. She dips her head and smiles up at Waverly. How did I ever get so lucky?

“I think we’re both the lucky ones, baby,” Waverly answers, still squeezing her hand, and Nicole realizes she must have said that last part out loud. She blushes and moves to hide her face, but Waverly tilts her head up for a proper kiss, and Nicole could never deny her that.

“I’ll be right out here most of the day if you need me,” Nicole says when they break apart. “Unless a call comes in, but Ruthie will know how to find me if it’simportant.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Waverly says, smiling softly again. “Go be the best Sheriff-in-training you can be.”

“Shhhh…” Nicole giggles quietly. “That’s not common knowledge, you know.”

Waverly grins and pulls her in for another kiss before shooing her toward the door.

“Gotta go make sure no one casts any spells on Ruthie and me,” Nicole says, letting a hint of conspiracy creep into her voice.

“What? Someone’s casting spells?” Waverly’s already half out of her chair before Nicole can raise a hand to stop her.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she assures Waverly. “There’s no spells. It was just a joke we had from this morning.”

“You sure?” Waverly narrows her eyes, but settles back into her chair.

“I promise,” Nicole says, making the Scout’s Honor sign. “How long are you planning on working tonight?” she asks, her hand dropping to rest on the doorknob.

“I’m not sure,” Waverly sighs. “Until I figure this out, I guess.” Her eyes drift across the stacks of books spread out in front of her.

“Well, I don’t have any plans for the evening. I’ll be back to keep you company when my shift’s over.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Nicole pauses in the doorway. There’s more she wants to say, but they’re not quite there yet, so she hesitates for a moment and then blows Waverly a kiss as she pulls the door shut behind her.

There may be a lot of things she’s still learning, but there’s one thing Nicole knows for sure: Her girlfriend works way too damn hard.

“I’m 10-24 from this last patrol, Ruthie.”

“10-4, Haught. Everything secure?’

“All good. You need anything before I head back in to call 42?”

“Negative. Stanton is already 41, so you can do the handoff when you both get here.”

“10-4. Mark me as 10-7 while I pick up some dinner on my way in, and then I’ll be there with these patrol logs.”

“10-4.”

Nicole had already called in her order before starting the walkthrough for the final security check on her list, so it only takes a matter of minutes for her to run in to Golden Moon, pay the bill, and pick up the brown paper sack full of fresh, hot Chinese food.

Her stomach rumbles at the smell, and she’s fairly certain Waverly hasn’t eaten anything since the donuts she brought her earlier. She just wants this day to be over so she can get back to her girlfriend, and though she’s normally very by-the-book about these things, she allows herself to drive a little faster than usual on her way back to the station.

The handoff with Stanton goes smoothly, given that there’s not really much to catch him up on. It had been a slow day – a rarity in Purgatory, which makes them all the more appreciated. Nicole had not only been able to finish up several reports, but was also able to spend some time working on a list of guidelines for the new visibility directive that she and Nedley had recently discussed. She’d even had time to complete the entire first round of security checks on the daily patrol log that she’d worked out with several of the local business owners.

By the time she’s finished filling Stanton in, Ruthie has already said her goodbyes for the evening, and Nicole pops her head in to the dispatch office to say hello to Cooper and wish him a good shift. With all of that out of the way, she can finally sit down for some dinner with Waverly.

“Hey, baby. I brought so–”

Nicole stops dead in her tracks, halfway through the door to the Black Badge office. Waverly is still in exactly the same place Nicole had left her this morning, with several books open and spread out in front of her, and a pen in hand, poised above the pad of paper that she’d been scribbling notes on.

Except that she’s fast asleep.

Her other elbow is resting on the table, with her hand propping her head up, and she’s fast asleep. Mouth hanging open, quiet little snores, and all.

It would be adorable if it wasn’t so goddamn heartbreaking.

“That’s it,” Nicole mutters, backing out of the office quietly, shaking her head as she hurries out to where her cruiser is parked just outside the door. She slides into her seat long enough to secure the bag of takeout in her center console and turn the key in the ignition, making sure the heat is on and the vents are all pointed at the passenger seat.

Back inside, she kneels down next to Waverly, not wanting to scare her when she wakes her up.

“Hey, sleepyhead…” she says softly as she reaches out and brushes some of the hair out of Waverly’s face.

Waverly jerks awake with a snort, startled, eyes wide as she tries to place herself in her surroundings.

“Easy, baby,” Nicole coos. “Easy. It’s just me.”

Waverly’s body immediately relaxes at the familiar voice, her confusion melting into a sleepy smile.

“Hey,” she rasps, her throat dry. She clears it a couple of times, grabbing the bottle of water next to her on the table. It’s gone warm, and she frowns, wondering how long she’s been out.

“It’s time to go,” Nicole says, rising up to kiss Waverly’s temple before reaching out to close the musty tomes so she can start stacking them up.

“What?” Waverly asks, her brow furrowing. “We can’t go yet. I have so much work to do…”

“Not tonight, you don’t.”

Waverly opens her mouth, but Nicole presses a finger to her lips before she can say anything else.

“No arguments,” Nicole says firmly. “All of this will still be here in the morning. But tonight, I’m taking you home, and you’re gonna let me take care of you.”

“But, I–”

“Nope,” is all Nicole says before leaning forward to silence Waverly with a kiss.

Waverly allows herself to get lost in it for a moment, and when she finally pulls away, she nods breathlessly.

“Good,” Nicole grins. “Now let’s get you bundled up.”

She grabs Waverly’s coat and scarf from the other chair they’re draped across, and once Waverly has found her feet and buttoned up, Nicole locks the Black Badge office behind them on the way out to her cruiser. Waverly sighs happily when she settles into the passenger seat, soaking up the warmth from the vents that have been running this whole time.

Nicole rests her hand on Waverly’s knee, and smiles warmly when Waverly absentmindedly laces their fingers together. It’s only a short ride to her house, and before long, she’s depositing the takeout on the kitchen table and hurrying back to help Waverly strip out of her coat and boots.

“Why don’t you head up and take a hot shower to loosen up those muscles a bit while I warm up our dinner?” Nicole reaches out and takes Waverly’s hands in her own. “You know where the, uh… supplies are in the bathroom, and you can grab something to wear from my dresser when you’re done.”

“Are you sure?” Waverly asks, frowning slightly.

“Of course, baby. Tonight is all about giving you a well-deserved break.”

“Thanks, Nic,” Waverly sighs wearily. She pushes up on her toes to kiss Nicole’s cheek and then begins trudging up the stairs. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

“Take your time,” Nicole says, waving her hand as she starts back toward the kitchen. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Blankets, blankets… Need more blankets…”

Waverly reappears on the stairs less than twenty minutes later, just as Nicole is finishing up her preparations for the rest of the evening.

Nicole loses her train of thought for a moment when she looks up and sees Waverly standing there in a baggy UBC basketball hoodie and pair of her old sweatpants with the waist and legs both rolled enough so that she’s not walking on them, still drying her hair with a towel and looking slightly more rejuvenated.

“Feeling any better?” she finally asks, shaking herself out of her stupor. She’s seen Waverly wear her comfy clothes before, but it never ceases to have this kind of effect on her. Every damn time.

“Just what the doctor ordered,” Waverly grins, padding softly across the floor to join Nicole at the end of the couch. “What’s all this?” she asks, pointing at the pile of blankets on the cushion and the covered tray on the coffee table.

“Just trying to make sure you have everything you need,” Nicole answers with a shy half-shrug.

“You’re everything I need,” Waverly murmurs, stepping closer to pull Nicole into a tight hug. Nicole’s arms immediately wrap around Waverly’s shoulders, cradling her as she buries her face in Nicole’s chest and stays there for nearly an entire minute without moving. It makes Nicole feel warm all over as she rests her cheek on top of Waverly’s head.

When Waverly finally steps away, she settles into the corner of the couch, tucking her feet up under her.

“Whatever’s on that tray smells amazing,” she says, rubbing at her belly. “I didn’t realize how hungry I am.”

Nicole lifts the cover to reveal a large bowl of sweet and sour soup with a little cup of peanut butter resting next to it. There’s also a bowl of egg drop soup and an order of crab rangoon, all of which are producing little columns of steam that twist and curl around the lid in Nicole’s hand.

“I know soup is your favorite when it’s your time, so I hope this is alright for tonight?” Nicole asks hopefully.

“Baby,” Waverly says dramatically, her mouth watering. “It’s perfect.”

“Good,” Nicole breathes, slightly relieved. She hands Waverly a bottle of water and a couple of Midol. “I’m just gonna go jump in the shower real quick. Just long enough to wash away the smell of the station. But you go ahead and get started, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I can wait…” Waverly says, chewing on her lip.

“Don’t be silly.” Nicole rolls her eyes and grabs one of the wooden TV trays she keeps next to the couch. “I’ll just be five minutes. Eat,” she says, pushing a spoon into Waverly’s hands after she’s taken the painkillers.

Waverly giggles as Nicole grabs the nearby blankets and wraps them around her until she’s just a bundle with arms and a face. She sets Waverly’s soup on the tray in front of her, gives her a quick peck on the lips, and hurries up the stairs.

True to her word, she’s in and out of the shower in just over five minutes, throwing on her academy sweats and hoodie as she heads back down the stairs to join Waverly on the couch. She pretends not to notice that one of her crab rangoons is missing, but Waverly teases that she took it as a “tribute.” They make quick work of what’s left of their dinner and Nicole hops up to clear away the empty containers.

“Nooooo…” Waverly whines, making grabby hands at Nicole as she starts to walk by. “I need my bonus blanket!”

“Your bonus blanket will report for duty in just a minute,” Nicole laughs, stealing a kiss as she goes. “Just stay right there and don’t move.”

Waverly pouts, but acquiesces, and Nicole scurries off to the kitchen. She sets some water to boil in the kettle and pours some milk into a mug and sticks it into the microwave. It doesn’t take long before she gets a beep and a whistle in short succession. She quickly adds her cocoa powder to the milk and leaves the marshmallows to melt across the top before turning her attention back to the kettle.

Nicole hates tea. Hates it. Most of the time, she can’t even stand the smell of it.

But Waverly loves tea, and Nicole loves Waverly, so she keeps an entire shelf in one of her kitchen cabinets stocked with all of the teas she knows Waverly likes, just in case she ever wants any when she’s over.

Tonight calls for something special, so she reaches to the back of the shelf and pulls out the small canister of Whittard Dreamtime instant tea she keeps hidden back there. It’s one of Waverly’s favorites, and she orders it special from the UK, so Nicole started keeping a small stash of it on hand for special occasions.

Waverly told her once that the special blend of honey and apricot and vanilla gives it soothing properties, like a lullaby in a mug. Nicole wrinkles her nose while stirring in the tea, much preferring her own French vanilla hot chocolate with marshmallows, but if ever someone needed a lullaby in a mug, Nicole figures Waverly deserves one tonight.

“I hope this was worth the wait,” Nicole says when she returns to the living room, carefully setting Waverly’s tea on the tray in front of her.

Waverly reaches forward to wrap her hands around the steaming mug and leans in to take a deep breath.

“You made me Dreamtime tea?” she asks, gasping slightly. “Wow, you’re really pulling out all the stops tonight,” she grins.

Nicole’s shoulders sag slightly as she sets her own mug down.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “I was just trying to help.”

“Nicole,” Waverly breathes, reaching over and resting her hand on top of Nicole’s. “Thank you. I love it. Everything is perfect,” she says seriously, her eyes soft and genuine.

“Yeah?” Nicole looks back up of at Waverly, her cheeks red.

“Yeah.” Waverly leans in and kisses Nicole, stroking her cheek gently in the process.

“I thought maybe we could just curl up and watch something tonight?”

“That sounds great,” Waverly says, leaning her head against Nicole’s shoulder. “What do you want to watch?”

“Anything you want, baby.” Nicole kisses the top of her head. “I’m all yours.”

“Hmmm…” Waverly ponders, tapping her chin. She takes a sip of her tea while she thinks. “God, that’s so good,” she groans, her eyes slipping closed like it’s a religious experience.

Nicole can’t help but chuckle as she sips her own hot chocolate. She reaches out and toys with Waverly’s hair, still slightly damp from the shower.

“Oh!” Waverly says, her eyes going wide. Nicole jerks her hand away, afraid she startled Waverly or something. “What about Big Little Lies?” she asks, her face lighting up with excitement. “We keep saying we want to see that, but we never have time!”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Nicole agrees. She loves watching shows that let her sharpen her deduction skills. She loves them even more when she gets to watch them while snuggled up with her girlfriend.

Waverly sets her mug back down and claps gleefully while Nicole finds the remote and navigates the menus until it’s ready to go. She glances at Waverly, who gives her an enthusiastic nod, and she presses ‘play’ before settling back into the couch next to Waverly.

They remain upright so they can both still enjoy their tea and hot chocolate, but Waverly shuffles closer until her leg is pressed along Nicole’s, and she draws random patterns on her knee while they watch the opening scenes of the first episode.

At some point, they finish their drinks, and Nicole sets the mugs aside and folds the tray down so it’s not in the way. She has Waverly turn slightly next to her and begins running her fingers through her hair, gently parting the strands while they continue to watch. By the time the first episode is finished, Nicole has folded Waverly’s hair into two matching French braids on either side of her head.

“Thanks, Nic,” she whispers, tipping her head back to kiss the underside of Nicole’s chin. “Now where is that bonus blanket you promised me?”

“Bonus blanket, reporting for duty,” Nicole laughs, but stands next to the couch and holds out a hand to pull Waverly up next to her. Waverly looks confused, but Nicole just continues to grin as she rearranges the blankets on the couch.

“How about this?” she finally asks, lying down on her back with her head propped up on the armrest. She opens her arms wide, indicating for Waverly to join her.

Waverly’s smile could blind the sun as she climbs on top of Nicole, stretching out along her long body and resting her head on Nicole’s chest. Nicole reaches over and pulls the blankets on top of them, making sure Waverly is completely tucked in.

“Comfortable?” she asks when everything is settled. Waverly nods against her with a happy sigh. “Can you still see the TV?”

“Yep.”

“Good. You ready for the next episode?” Nicole asks, grabbing the remote.

“More than ready,” Waverly says, squeezing Nicole slightly in the best attempt at a hug she can manage from the awkward position.

“Okay, here we go.” She hits play and reaches behind her to click the lamp off, leaving them happily snuggled up in the soft glow of the television.

Nicole keeps one of her arms wrapped around Waverly’s shoulders, making sure she’s still secure and not going to roll of the couch, and she lets her other hand gently rub soothing circles into her lower back. Waverly’s body radiates contentment, and it’s all Nicole could have asked for tonight.

They start out discussing the episode as it plays, but it doesn’t take long for Waverly’s comments to peter out, transitioning into mumbles more than anything else. The episode isn’t even half over before Nicole hears the first soft snore.

It melts her heart, thoroughly and completely.

She’s hooked on the show, but it’s something they really wanted to watch together, and she’d never keep going without Waverly. Careful not to disturb the sleeping lump lying on top of her, she stretches out her arm toward the coffee table, just barely able to grab the remote with her fingertips without having to actually move from her position as a combination bed and bonus blanket. She flips through the channels quickly until she finds the one she’s looking for.

At least the Raptors are playing tonight.

#prompt fill #my fiction #wayhaught #wynonna earp #ask and answer #anon #writer asks #writing #mine

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starksnack · 4 years

Note

📚 + winteriron + puppies ?

A Paw-fect Family // WinterIron // 2k // Read it on AO3

Tony is laying across Bucky’s lap with his tablet, trying to work up the energy to get up and go out on a date rather than give in to the lure of going back to bed when Steve rushes into the penthouse living room with a frantic look on his face. Tony jolts up immediately, shaking the spots out of his vision as Bucky tenses behind him; neither of them heard a call to assemble.

“Are you guys busy? I need someone for PR.” Steve’s blue eyes are wide and desperate as he begs them to volunteer at the animal shelter for a couple of hours. Apparently, Steve had told the shelter he would send a couple of Avengers over but had totally forgotten to tell the aforementioned Avengers that. Tony and Bucky were the only two currently in the tower, the spy twins were away on mission and Thor and Bruce out of the country making the world a better place.

Tony nods, it isn’t a big hardship to agree. Tony had just been planning on a walk through Central Park and maybe some hot dogs, this would be pretty much the same thing considering Bucky always stopped to pet every dog he saw.

Together, Tony and Bucky dress between kisses in their softest sweaters, Tony likes that it gives him an excuse to run his fingers across Bucky’s delicious biceps. Their sweaters are in different shades of blue because Bucky thinks it’s hilarious when they are colour coordinated. Tony laughs and rolls his eyes at his partner even though he secretly loves it when they match.

The sun is just barely dipping in the sky when they wave Steve goodbye and set off in the chilly spring air. Tony tucks himself in Bucky’s side, lacing their fingers together as he absorbs the super soldier’s warmth. Their steps are perfectly coordinated as Bucky pulls him in closer, pressing a kiss to Tony’s curls. Bucky’s thumb is rubbing absentmindedly over his fingers and Tony falls in love with him a little more which each soft stroke.

It’s a beautiful day and Tony is glad they had opted to walk to the animal shelter rather than taking a taxi. It’s a rare evening where the city of New York seems to be in a good mood, less honking giving way to the titter of pigeons perched on storefront awnings as they pass. They don’t even get run over as they jaywalk across the street.

Bucky points out a couple of pretty birds, his grey eyes glittering in excitement as he watches them flap across the clear blue sky. The gentle wind blows budding trees, and small baby squirrels play across the sidewalk as they head toward the animal shelter.

It’s not a long walk and before long they are checking in with a star-struck employee who can’t seem to look away from them. Tony grins, he’s used to it, but Bucky is blushing something adorable as he signs his name across the volunteer forms. Rubbing a gentle hand up and down his partner’s back, Tony leads him toward the animals.

The employee, and Tony really needs to learn her name though he honestly can’t be bothered, unlocks a couple of cages for them. A cute, chocolate-coloured puppy rolls out of the first one, blinking up at Tony before bounding over, tripping over his gangly paws and sliding across the tiled floor. He’s a mixed breed, his fur a coloured canvas of white and brown as blue eyes study the two of them curiously. His tongue lolls out of his mouth and Bucky laughs, reaching down to scratch the puppy under the chin. He receives a couple of sloppy kisses in response and he picks the puppy up, cuddling him to his chest.

The next cage that opens lets out an older dog, a cocker spaniel that tilts her head at Tony with a happy bark. She noses at the smaller puppy, tail wagging as she tips her head up to lick at Bucky’s outstretched fingers. The puppy is not too happy, jumping on the spaniel and the two of them go rolling, playfully nipping at each other.

Bucky turns to look at Tony, eyes bright as he reaches for a third dog, a bumbling dachshund who snuffles at Bucky’s sweatshirt before trying to burrow under it. He frowns when he sees that Tony’s not playing with a puppy of his own, his hands pressed into his lap as the other two puppies roll near him, barking and nipping playfully at each other.

“Hey Helen?” Bucky asks, and the employee-- so her name is Helen-- turns around from where she’s looking through the other cages, twirling the key around her finger. “Do you have any cuddly puppies? Less energetic.” Bucky turns to Tony with a grin. “I know you love a good cuddle, dear.”

Tony blushes in response, refusing to look at Helen as he glares Bucky down. His face says he won’t be receiving any Tony cuddles later tonight but Bucky knows better, knows that Tony is an octopus and will be on his side of the bed before he’s asleep. Tony needs a dog that loves a good snuggle too.

And that’s how Tony ends up with a beautiful golden retriever in his arms, tongue lolling happily out of her mouth as she snuggles up against the warmth of Tony’s body, occasionally licking across his jaw. He’s gently rubbing her soft ears, marvelling as how calm she is in his arms as she blinks up at him with another lap of her tongue against his chin. Tony kisses her forehead and she barks happily in response, nosing into Tony’s neck and slobbering on his sweater.

She’s a beauty, almost as big as Tony and soft long fur that Bucky kind of wants to braid to be perfectly honest. He can tell that Tony’s already in love with her and if Bucky knows anything, he probably wants to take her home with them. Tony was never one for the dogs in the park, but this one seems to have all of his attention.

Bucky picks up the first puppy, giving Tony time with the golden. The puppy looks up at him, his earlier romp with the cocker spaniel completely forgotten as he looks up at Bucky with huge pleading eyes. With a wide smile, Bucky snuggles closer to the pup, smoothing his fingers through his soft hair with a wide smile. He’s quite the cutie and his fur colouring reminds Bucky of the sepia tones his childhood memories are painted in.

Tony leans in toward him, his head on Bucky’s shoulder even though his attention is focused on the dog in his arms. The puppy cuddling with Bucky turns to look at the retriever, tail wagging excitedly as he licks across her ears. She looks surprised before returning the favour with a light yip.

“Can we take her home?” Tony asks burying his nose in the retriever’s soft fur. The dog woofs curling to press closer to Tony. Bucky knows he couldn’t separate them if he tried and they’re so adorable together that he wouldn’t ever try to. He knows immediately that they’re going to be going home tonight with a couple new family members.

Bucky laughs, leaning over the dog’s head to press a kiss to Tony’s cheek. “It’s your tower, sweetheart. If you want a dog, just adopt her. You know Stevie would help out and Clint is practically a dog himself. She’ll be right at home.”

Tony laughs, scratching underneath the retriever’s chin. Helen appears at his side to hand him the information sheet for the dog in his arms and Tony flips through it as the retriever paws at his sweater excitedly. With his free hand, Tony scratches under her chin to calm her down.

“Her name is Fish,” Tony reads, a wide grin spreading across his face as she barks in affirmation. He looks down at her with a wide grin, pressing another kiss to her fluffy hair. “It says here that she’s up to date on all her vaccinations and she’s house trained.” Tony scratches her head, with a laugh. “You’re a good girl aren’t you? Absolutely perfect.”

Fish lays across Tony’s legs, her tail wagging as she looks up at Tony. Bucky knows he can’t resist, and Helen seems to be able to tell cause she’s already holding the adoption papers in her hands, a warm smile on her face.

Tony accepts the papers and digs his hand into his pocket pulling out his phone and opening up his connection to Jarvis. “Hey buddy you there?” Jarvis answers affirmatively because he’s always there for Tony and the genius grins. “Can you put in an order for everything we need for a new pet? Read whatever books you can find on dogs and get us the works. Read the reviews, order the best, the usual.” Tony looks at Bucky and then at the cuddly puppy in his arms. He turns back to Jarvis. “We’re going to need enough for two dogs, please.”

“Thank you!” Bucky wraps an arm around Tony’s middle pressing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips that’s too quick to really be satisfying. Bucky tastes like vanilla and americano and Tony resists the urge to lick into his mouth. He’s pretty sure Helen is still in the room and he doesn’t want to scar her for life. “Thank you Tony.”

“Anything for you,” Tony mumbles against his lips, moving to press kisses across his jaw before slotting their lips together again, Fish pressing her paws into Bucky’s chest before licking across his neck with an excited yip.

Pulling away, Tony brushes a stray lock of Bucky’s hair behind his ear, cupping his face. Bucky’s grey eyes are delighted and sparkling in the most beautiful way and Tony can feel the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grins in response. He knows these dogs will feel every ounce of love the two of them and the rest of the team have to offer. Bucky has such a big heart, always has. “I love you so much.”

Bucky tucks his head into Tony’s neck, turning his head to press a quick kiss to his shoulder. The puppy he’s holding barks excitedly between them and Fish yips in response, licking across his fur. Bucky laughs, happy that they’ve gotten to be such quick friends. He looks up at his partner with a smile. “I love you too, Tony.”

When they arrive back at Avengers tower hours later and covered in dog fur, their family is up two members both with wagging tails and lolling tongues. Fish immediately makes herself at home underneath the kitchen table as Bucky’s puppy, Roman, runs circles around their teammates, barking up a storm. Steve glances up at them from his newspaper and doesn’t look the least bit surprised as he smiles at the two of them.

Most of their stuff has already arrived and Tony takes videos of their new pets as Bucky rips open the packaging, setting up their food and hanging their leashes by the elevator. There are a couple of dog beds, but Bucky already knows that Tony is going to let Fish and Roman sleep with them. He leaves the plush looking cushions in the living room anyway.

At the end of the night when Bucky and Tony are lying in bed together, exhausted but happy as Fish and Roman cuddle at the foot of their bed, Tony posts all his videos to Instagram, tagging the shelter and writing a long-winded caption about how excited he is about his new dogs. Bucky presses a kiss to Tony’s shoulder, already excited to wake up with what will most likely be a dog’s butt in his face and Tony drooling on his chest.

They manage to drum up enough good PR that all the shelters in New York manage to find loving homes for all their animals.

#winteriron #bucky barnes #tony stark #winter soldier #iron man #marvel #starksnack writes #kait celebrates #birthday celebration #ask 5 #Anonymous

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barpurplewrites · 6 years

Text

Dragons, kitties and puppies, oh my!

@a-monthly-rumbelling Non smut prompt December.

It’s time for Storybrooke’s Miner’s Day Festival and Gideon Gold is very excited.

-x-x-x-x-

To say that Gideon was excited about the Miner’s Day festival would be an understatement of epic proportions. With the obsessive passion that a five-year-old can muster, he had learned everything about the history of the celebration, he’d been spouting trivia for weeks now. The only difficult moment had been when Gid had decided to put his knowledge into practice by ‘excavating’ a section of the backyard. He’d made a hell of a hole in the lawn before Belle had turned around from weeding to see what he was up to. Still his desire to dig had given Belle the idea that a sandpit would be a good addition to the yard, sooner rather than later.

Given this level of enthusiasm it was wishful thinking on Belle and Gold’s part to believe that they would get to sleep beyond six the morning of the festival. Belle groaned and buried her head under the pillow when the baby monitor picked up the first sounds of Gid moving around in his room. Gold pressed a sleepy kiss to her shoulder and muttered; “Relax, sweetheart, I’ll get him.”

He chose to believe that the sleepy grumble that came from his wife translated as “Thank you.”

Gid was rummaging in his closet when Gold ambled into his bedroom.

“Morning Papa. It’s Miner’s Day!”

Gold yawned as he nodded, “I know, it’s also very early. What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.”

He eyed the odd combination of clothes Gid had selected for himself so far. Why he thought he needed three socks, and two jumpers was a mystery not to be considered before a cuppa.

“Okay, but how about we have breakfast first?”

---

They arrive at the festival on the dot of eleven, just as the stalls opened. A fast glance around the food stalls made Gold very glad he had insisted on cooking a full breakfast, at least now there was a slim chance that Gid wouldn’t be wanting sweets too soon. Although his own sweet tooth was already eyeing up the colourful cupcakes festooning Astrid’s stall.

Belle glanced over Gid’s head and caught his eye; “Not until after lunch.”

His wife had an uncanny knack for reading his mind when it came to sweet treats, he gave her look of mock offence, but then smiled and nodded his head. She was right; it wouldn’t do to get Gid into bad eating habits, they were already having to sneak spinach into him by mixing it with mash potatoes and calling it ‘alien brains’.

For the moment Gid was preoccupied with the History of Mining stand. Leroy Coalman saw them coming and whistled to one of his six brothers, who were all manning the display.

“Hey Joey! Your favourite little mining buddy is here!”

Belle and Gold exchanged a puzzled look. Joey was the quiet Coalman brother, unkindly dubbed Dopey by some of the crueller citizens of town, He didn’t speak, usually, but he hurried across to Gid and gave him a high-five, before saying in a raspy voice; “Got your kit. You ready?”

Gid was bouncing on his toes; “I am!”

Joey looked shyly at Belle and Gold, words failed him in the face of two adults, but Leroy stepped up to explain; “Gideon and Joey made friends during the mine tour the other day. Joey’s got something special for Gideon to play with, if that’s alright?”

Gold wasn’t sure how to respond, but Belle was there with the sensible question; “Where are they going to play?”

“Just here at the stand. Joey knows not to wander off and we’ll all be keeping an eye out.”

“That’s okay then. Gid? Papa and I will be right here. What’s the rule?”

“No wandering off, Mama. Can I play with Joey now?”

“Yes, go on.”

Leroy clapped his brother on the shoulder as he and Gid scampered into the wide room that had been set up to resemble a mine shaft. Joey handed Gid a miner’s helmet and helped him adjust it, so it sat correctly on his head. The other kids were wearing plain white helmets, but Gid’s was painted with bright yellow diggers.

Without taking his eyes off the two of them Leroy spoke over his shoulder to Gold and Belle.

“Your lad was the only one who talked to Joey during the school trip. Never seen Joey be so excited. Your lad was amazing rattling off all of these facts and figures about the mines, and he listened when Joey told him new ones. Joey’s spent the last few days painting that helmet for him and drawing him schematics of equipment.”

Leroy turned to look at them both; “Look, I know Joey ain’t the sharpest tool in the box, but he’s a good lad. Would you maybe think about letting him and Gideon meet up at the library or the park some time? With supervision of course, wouldn’t want the pair of them to get into bother.”

Gold was tight lipped; he was listening to Leroy’s suggestion, but he’d not been able to take his eyes off Gid. It was Belle who answered for them both; “I think a get together at the library would be a great idea. We’ll arrange something next week.”

Leroy’s normally gruff face split into a wide smile; “Thank you sister, thank you both.”

A shout from one of his other brothers called Leroy away. Gold was still watching Gid like a hawk, going so far as to stand almost on tip-toe as Gid and Joey ducked under the low tunnel cut out that was supposed to teach the kids about the cramped conditions in old mines. Belle squeezed his hand to get his attention and when he spared her only a flicker of a glance she moved to stand in front of him commanding his full focus.

“Sweetheart. Relax. Gid is fine. He’s playing with Joey and half a dozen other kids. He’s having fun and is perfectly safe.”

Gold sagged; “I know. It’s just, well, he’s our little boy and look at him, socializing and talking to people so easily.”

Gid was currently running around and around Joey, chasing or being chased by Neal Nolan and Alex Herman. It was amazing to Gold, who could never remember such a carefree moment in his own childhood. He smiled at Belle; “He’s amazing, just like his mother.”

Belle slid her hand up over his shoulder and ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck; “And like his father.”

---

After lunch Gold was happily eating his cupcake when they approached the face painting stall. Gideon was turned into a green scaled dragon, hindered only slightly by his refusal to remove his miner’s helmet. It didn’t take much persuading from Ruby to get Belle to sit in the chair once Gideon was finished. Gold chuckled as Belle was turned into an adorable kitten. He licked the last of the icing from his fingers and fished his cell from his pocket; “Shall we have a photo of you two all painted up?”

He’d expected Gideon to agree, he loved having photos taken, but he shook his head and pushed his Papa towards the seat Mama had just risen from.

“You got to get face painted too, Papa, then we can take a photo of all of us.”

Ruby was grinning as Gid shoved Gold into the waiting chair; “Well, what shall it be?”

For a brief moment Gold wished he was still the feared landlord, the terror of the town, but that mask had dissolved when Belle had come into his life, the town apparently found it impossible to be intimidated by a man so lovestruck. He nodded his head at Gid; “This was your idea, son, what shall Miss Ruby paint me as?”

Gid got a sneaky grin on his face, and pulled Belle down to whisper in her ear. Belle chuckled and said; “Oh that’s a very good idea, Gid, tell Ruby.”

“Can you make Papa a puppy, please Miss Ruby?”

“A puppy? Why a puppy?”

“Because he was using his puppy dog eyes at Mama, so she’d let him have a cupcake.”

Gold felt a blush creep onto his face, but he couldn’t argue with Gid’s description. Ruby was laughing out loud as she picked up the face paints, “Okay, a puppy it is, erm can you hold your hair out of the way?”

“I’ll do that.”

Belle moved behind him and scooped his hair back off his face with her fingers. Her touch grounded him as he closed his eyes to allow Ruby to apply the paint, but he still felt vulnerable. Without being aware of it Gid eased his anxiety by chatting about dragons, and if dragons would be good miners, or would they eat all of the coal?

Belle was fiddling with his hair, which he thought was just to keep it out of Ruby’s way until he heard a smothered giggle, followed by Gid hissing ‘Shush!’. His family were clearly up to something sneaky. He kept his eyes closed until Ruby said; “All done!”

Gold opened his eyes to find his reflection staring back at him. He was a puppy. The face paint gave him the look of a spaniel, a look enhanced by the clips Belle had slipped into his hair to give him floofy ‘ears’.

He had to laugh at himself, in between chuckles he managed to say; “Very nice work Miss Ruby.”

She dipped a curtsy and returned the mirror to the table; “Gimme your phone, and I’ll take some photos of the three of you.”

He handed it over as Gid clambered into his lap, and Belle carefully rested her head on his shoulder.

“Okay, now make the right animal noises.”

Their mingled barks, meows and roars weren’t particularly harmonious, but they drew plenty of laughs from the crowd waiting for their turn at the face painting booth. Those laughs turned to soft ooohs when Gid patted Gold on the head and said; “Good Papa puppy.”

As they left the stall, Gold said to Belle; “You’re going to have to help me wash this off tonight, you know.”

Belle snuggled into his side and whispered; “I think that can be arranged, sweetheart.”

The husky hint of suggestion in her voice sent a shiver down his spine, before he could lean in and quietly ask her to elaborate Gid shouted at them; “Can we go on Whack-a-Mole?”

#rumbelle fic #a monthly rumbelling #fluff

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monster-mum · 6 years

Text

Sorry, not sorry

Trying to be kind, helpful and respectful in an ever-growing world can seem like a difficult task at times. There are many out there who wouldn’t give someone else’s well-being a second thought but for many of us it is second nature. Growing up me and Andrew regularly saw our parents reaching out and helping others. Not huge extravagant things but the little things like holding the door open for a Mum struggling with a pushchair, or giving up their seat to the elderly lady on the train or seeing a stranger upset and going over to see if they were okay. I can remember one time, when I was around fourteen years old, the four of us were heading out in the car when we noticed an elderly gentleman struggling with his shopping while trying to cross a busy main road. Suddenly he dropped his shopping and it spilled out all over the pavement and road. Without a word to each other our Dad pulled over and our Mum jumped out of the car to go and assist the man. This was just the normal thing for me and Andrew to see our parents do and so as we’ve grown into adults we both go out of our way to follow in their footsteps. I think it is a good thing to put a little kindness out into the world when and where we can, sometimes just that one moment can turn someone’s day around. Have you ever read that book ‘The Five People You Meet in Heaven’ By Mitch Albom? If you haven’t you really should. It is a book of influence and has changed many people’s perspective on interactions with others. It’s a fantastic read. I was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of one person’s act of kindness the other day and I was so grateful.

There I am on my own with my tiniest monster who has decided that he despises Tesco’s with a passion and screams bloody murder from the entrance of the shop and down every single aisle. Half way down the shop it’s beginning to wear thin and I’m contemplating either ending the shopping trip and coming back later or cutting my ears off. Just as I am about to give in and head over to the kitchenware aisle a lady comes over and offers to carry the little gremlin so I can finish the shopping. I couldn’t believe it. I stood and stared at her for far too long, she must’ve thought I had been frozen in time with a freeze gun (totes real thing). Eventually I responded with an enthusiastic “Yes, please!”

There is this misconception with many people that parents enjoy the sound of their children screaming, like it’s a beautiful symphony. The fact of the matter is we hate it so fricking much. It is like a screwdriver to the brain for most parents. If anyone wants a screaming, tantruming child to sit down and be quiet the parents are at the top of that list. I never really understood how stressful a screaming child could really be until our little banshee Lyla Rose arrived into the word with a series of loud screams.

Lyla is a beautiful, strong, independent, fierce character. A wonderful array of personality traits for any young girl to have, unless you are the parent of said young girl. Teaching manners and respect to a child that was born knowing all the answers can be somewhat a challenge.

Set scene: I’m in the kitchen with Lyla, having just set down her lunch I begin tidying bits away.

Lyla: “Mummy can I have a drink please?”

Me: “Sure.”

I pour her drink and set it down in front of her, I wait patiently for the thank you which should follow. Lyla glances at me and gives me a look that demands “why are you looking at me servant?”

Me: “Lyla, what do you say?”

Lyla: “You’re welcome.”

Me: “No Lyla, I’m supposed to say you’re welcome.”

Lyla: “Then what do YOU say Mummy?”

Me: “Lyla you’re supposed to say thank you.”

Lyla: “Why? I’ve already said you’re welcome, which you are supposed to say Mummy. You need to have better manners.”

What! I mean seriously where do you go from here. Knowing that I have lost this round I walk away. Lyla: 2,352 points. Me: 1 and a half points. Yes, I have just been schooled and outwitted by my four-year-old. It happens to the best and the worst of us, and to me and Chris on a regular basis.

I think teaching children respect can be particularly difficult. Many parents desperate to step away from the “seen and not heard” parenting style, and not wanting to go too far towards the “free rein” style, are stuck bouncing between the two trying to find a balance. I’d like to tell you that I have all the answers and I know the exact right way to go about it but I struggle to call the right child by the right name let alone be able to give any decent parenting advice. A lot of parenting involves guess work, attempting to not sound like your own parents but sounding exactly like them and learning to adapt to how tired you are. That’s something no one really tells you when you have a child. Many new parents are aware that you are tired for a while after having a baby and that is true, but the misunderstanding occurs when they believe that you manage to catch up on all the sleep you miss. I’m sorry to tell you all but that never happens, yep never. You simply adjust to being tired and with each consecutive child you just adjust to being even more tired.

Trying to teach my kids respect seems to be particularly challenging. Our dog is better trained than our kids. I have tried to get the kids to respond to a whistle and for an hour it worked, I did treat based training and our spaniel joined in too. The three of them had a ball. I was feeling pretty chuffed with myself and was getting a bit cocky at the thought of outsmarting all those parenting books. Surely this was just a type of positive reinforcement. It was all going well until it wasn’t and that is a common theme in parenting. This happens a lot with children, you think you are on the home straight and there’s no way you can lose and then out of nowhere you get hit with a curve ball and you’re out.

Set scene: I’ve just sat down to do some writing. Lachlan is having some ‘beat the crap out of my toys’ time in his play gym. Steven and Lyla are off in another part of the house shouting and trashing whichever room they’re in when suddenly they quietly appear. Steven walks in with his IPad.

Me: “Steven what are you doing?”

Steven: Playing the role of a film director his attitude is of someone creating a piece of art as he points the iPad at me. “I am making a film Mummy.”

It’s about 1 in the afternoon and I am still in my pj’s. My hair looks like a family of birds has been nesting in it and I’m pretty sure I have some left-over breakfast down my top, so I am sure you’ll appreciate how little I wanted this moment in my life documented on my son’s iPad. He is also the type of child who enjoys showing anyone and everyone anything and everything he has done so it undoubtedly would’ve been halfway around the village before dinner time.

Me: “Steven, I don’t want to be videoed, please stop.”

Steven: Looks like I am “The Man” tearing down his right to a creative vision. “Fine Mummy, I’ll film Lachlan.”

I glance down at Lachlan and notice that he is in his favourite sleeping at gunpoint position and is out for the count. Just as I am about to ask him not to film Lachlan, Steven and Lyla shove their heads under the play gym and are practically nose to nose with the poor boy.

Lyla: “Aww Lachlan you’re so chuubbbyyyyy!”

Lyla has heard us say this a few times to Lachlan and has decided it is a term of endearment, which it is for a baby, but when you’re sat with your four-year-old on your lap cuddling into you and she says “Aww Mummy you’re so chubby” it doesn’t have quite the same sentiment.

Lachlan jumps out of his skin and opens his eyes and then jumps again at the sight of his big brother’s and sister’s faces that are about a centimetre away from his own. The next thing he sees is Steven’s blue covered IPad in his face.

Me: “Hey! Guys! Come on, Lachlan was asleep.” Lachlan pulls his sad face and I look at the login screen on my laptop, so close yet so far, and close the lid.

The kids stand up and pull their ‘sorry but not sorry faces’. You know the ones I mean where they don’t really care but they know that if they play the part they can get away quicker and with little to no lecture.

Me: “Please be more aware of others. You could see that he was sleeping and you just woke him up. That’s not nice is it?”

They Shake their heads “no Mummy.”

Okay this is looking like it’s going well. I am parenting my arse off and they seem to be actually taking it on board for a change. Feeling like I’ve done an awesome job I mentally pat myself on the back as I tell them to just be more mindful in the future and to go have fun and play. Then…

Steven: “Mummy, before I go can I just take a photo of you with two heads?”

Urgh! They fooled me again. Dammit. I need to start being more suspicious of my little monsters. I tell them both to go play and no, Steven cannot take a photo of me with two heads. I look down at my tiniest monster who by now has fallen asleep with a smile on his face as he listened to his brother and sister getting told off, he’s probably going to be the worst out of all three of them.

The lack of respect at times is infuriating but I guess even them learning to humour the idea of it is better than nothing at times, they just need to get better at humouring for a bit longer than three seconds.

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drferox · 7 years

Text

20 questions with Dr Ferox #1

Greeting Vetlings. This post is an attempt to chew through some of the many, many questions I have received over the last 2 months without spamming you with two dozen mini post. These questions are in no particular order, and I’ve tagged the asker if I know who it is. If you’re waiting for a question to be answered, it might be below.

@surskitty asked: What are your favorite marsupials?

Well, I certainly have lots to chose from, but I’m particularly fond of the carnivorous ones. Numbats, Quolls and Tassie Devils will always be special to me, but I really like the extinct Thylacine and Thylacaleo too.

Anonymous asked: Hey so theres this theory that giving extremely dark chocolate in small amounts to a rat is helpful with the chronic respiratory issues endemic to rats bc of mycoplasma. What do you think about the accuracy of that scientifically? I came for the vet cases/ funny stories, stayed for both!

I can’t say I’ve used it, but it’s not a standard recommendation. Rats being generalists may be able to handle the theobromine in chocolate better than small carnivores but I can’t find any solid data on it. Small amounts in moderation are probably ok.

Another Anonymous asked: Hi dr. Ferox, I'm planning on getting a gecko this July so that I have plenty of time to get set up and do even more research on them. One of the things that I'm curious about is if you would consider it a good idea to call around and ask some of the vets that I'm considering taking my gecko to see their level of familiarity and comfort with treating reptiles like geckos? If so then what are some other things that I should ask them about? Thanks in advance!

It’s definitely a good idea to call around and ask who is comfortable treating geckos, or any exotic pet. Most clinics will know who the local exotics vets are and are happy to refer such patients on. It would also be a good idea to ask which emergency clinics are set up for reptile patients, as some will have better setups than others. You should also ask how much you should budget for routine care and how often they recommend that species comes in for a checkup.

@zaryaisbae asked: I have an old Russian Blue (around 13ish, he's 100% indoors and declawed (adopted him that way) and probably a little overweight. He still seems to get around really well, and occasionally plays with the younger kitten we have. Given adequate care and accommodation, how many years would an average case like him have left? (Came for the rant on time sensitive questions, stayed for the excellent veterinary information)

Russian Blue cats can do old age quite well, for a relatively uncommon cat I’ve seen a few reach 18 years of age. I would recommend regular blood or urine tests for my patients of this age as early detected of kidney disease and hyperthyroidism can help them live longer.

Anonymous asked: I might be adopting a little doggy soon!!! She's a sweet australian shepherd/ spaniel cross and I love her. She'll likely become my service dog, but she's currently being treated for heartworm. Are there any long lasting effects of heartworms? Could it be recurring?

Dogs can certainly be re-infected with heartworm even after they’ve been treated for an infection. It’s important that dogs stay on preventatives as recommended by your local vet, they’re most likely to know what’s working well in your area. Heartworm is spread by mosquitoes so your dog doesn’t even need to come into contact with other dogs to get them. It is possible for heartworm infection to cause permanent damage to the heart or blood vessels, but this will likely depend on how severe the infection is. Once a dog is treated they may show no ill effects from the previous infection.

@petitevetoespagnole asked: Recently I realize that the idea of what a cat has to eat change a lot between countries. I know mostly it's because I work in a rural environment and I'm good as long as my French cats have cat food (and I'm happy if it's actually the type of cat food they need) but I thought it could be interesting to know what's your experience on this.

Emotion is a significant factor in what and how people feed their pets. Cats are more or less the same everywhere but how they are valued and perceived by society will differ. For some a cat will be their furbaby. For others a cat is ‘just a cat’.

@doctorrichardstrand asked: question tax: came for the breed analyses, stayed for the mythical creature analyses. we recently found out my miniature schnauzer has an abdominal tumor. we're not sure yet if it's benign or cancerous, nor where it is actually coming from. i was wondering what the rate of cancer is in miniature schnauzers? i had thought it was fairly low.

Well, just because a breed doesn’t have a reputation for cancers doesn’t mean they can’t get them. They don’s seem to commonly get them, but it’s still possible. Overall the rate of cancer in dogs (not including benign lumps like lipomas) seems to be approximately 30%.

Yet another Anomymous asked: Do you see many Manchester terriers in Australia? What do you think of them if you've worked with them before

Not enough to write anything meaningful about them, I’m afraid.

A presumably different Anonymous asked: I've heard mixed things from vets about mixing Baytril with baby food etc so my rats are more willing to take it. Some vets have recommended it but other vets have said it's unwise. (I've avoided mixing it just to be safe.) Is this a controversial thing in the vet community and why is it advised you don't mix it?

I think it’s more a matter of being confident the rat has eaten the entire dose. The local exotics vets often use a particular brand of sweetened syrup to mix with baytril for rats and parrots. I don’t think it’s a controversial thing, so long as you can be confident the rat is getting the dose.

@its-animalcrazy-love asked: Hello! Do you now where I can learn to read a blood sample and other kind of lab tests?

Well the vet course in the obvious answer. Certain text books about clinical pathology will have quick summaries. Certain medicine text books (Ettinger?) had charts on the inside covers for quick reference and the 5 Minute Veterinary Guide has reference ranges for just about everything in an appendix at the back. However knowing the reference ranges wont help you if you don’t understand why something is abnormal and what it means for the patient.

Anonymous asked: So noses don't tell anything but what about how soft the fur is? I've always heard that for cats, if their hair is soft and smooth, they're pretty healthy. Is there anything to that?

Not really. If the fur is soft and smooth it tells you that the fur is soft and smooth. Certain disease processes will cause changes to the coat and skin, but these typically take weeks or months to manifest and are not helpful for determining whether a pet is sick today.

@mackthebulldog said: The obsessive foot licking My dog does like crazy. I bring it up almost ever time I'm at the vet(I've seen 3 for it). It's so bad his paws will get like hairy almost because he's breaking down the paw. One vet put him on this medicine to try to help thinking he was licking because it was a bit inflamed and red. When it went away he still did. It's so frustrating. When he comes in I wipe his paws and put socks on when he licks too much. They think he's OCD, any advice on how to curb this behavior

Generally pets are licking due to itch, pain or psychological reasons like stress. Obsessive compulsive behavior is rare but does occur. We can’t ask a dog how it’s feeling, so typically need to treat any possible skin pathology, allergy or nail bed infection (yeast being very common) before we commit to a trial of behavior modifying mediation (like anti-depressants or anxiolytics). Covering up or blocking the dog from licking doesn’t necessarily help because it doesn’t address the reason for the behavior, and if you block an obsessive dog from performing its behavior it will often become distressed. Distraction toys or puzzle feeders can help, but most of these dogs need medical intervention of some sort.

An additional Anonymous asked: Do you do much work with wildlife? In the US, it seems like most people who work with wildlife are wildlife rehabilitators (who might be vets but usually aren't--it's a separate licensing process) or zoo vets, not general practice vets. (Although wildlife rehabbers usually have a vet that they work with, for medication and injuries and such--in my state, it's required that you have a vet who will work with you/see your animals--the majority of rehabilitation does not happen with the vet.)

General practices in Australia will typically triage wildlife, and some will treat them further. Wildlife carers often have preferred vets they will go to for anything other than first aid because those vets are more experienced or have better equipment for those species (or give good discounts). You’re not actually allowed to house a wild animal unless you are a licensed career or the animal is receiving direct veterinary treatment, and most vets are not also licensed carers. In my current jobs I will do some work with wildlife, including euthanizing those that are too mangled or sick, and sending the rest to a better facility. In my previous jobs I have done a lot more, particularly as one vet at my first job had a reputation for being the ‘raptor vet’ so we got to see a fair birds of prey. This is why I know they’re easier to handle with a sock over their head.

@gram-stained-paws said: Rookie vet asking a silly question: how much water should a dog and a cat drink per day and at what point should it be considered polydipsia? What guideline do you follow when you establish it? I've read so many different answers to this question and I would like to know your opinion.

There is possibly only one thing that counts as a silly question, and this was not it. Opinions will vary, and the answer will vary depending on the animal’s diet and how much water it’s ‘eating’. As a ballpark I call it polydipsia if a dog is drinking more than 100ml/kg/day or a cat drinking more than 50ml/kg/day, although if they’re getting close to this number I’m a bit suspicious and will recommend further testing. And unexpected increase in water intake may also count as polydipsia.

The eighth Anonymous (but certainly not the last) asked: As a vet, or as an animal person, or as someone who just seems really into weird and cool and strange biology (and dinosaurs) do you have any thoughts on Jack Horner and his chickenosaurus?

I think the chickenosaurus project is fascinating, but I’m not sure how far it will get off the ground. I doubt they’ll be able to completely reverse engineer a dinosaur-like animal out of a chicken embryo because some genetic information has likely been lost, but they will probably be able to get some dinosaur like traits. I’m waiting to see how long it will take before those chickens reach the pet market.

@what-will-they-do-next asked: Hi! I know the pyometra is a serious, life threatening condition for intact female dogs, and is caused by the infection of the uterus which causes it to fill up with pus and rupture causing septic shock. But what I don't really know is what usually causes the initial infection of the uterus in the first place. Could you explain that? Question Tax: came for the vet science, stayed for the personal stories of real life events.

Infection can enter the uterus and cause a pyometra in one of two ways. It can either reach the uterus via the blood stream (eg septicemia, bacteraemia secondary to rotten teeth) or from bacteria entering via the vagina. The second way is probably more common, increasingly so with the age of the dog, because a dog spends most of its time with its anus directly above its vulva when standing so gravity helps bring fecal contamination in where it shouldn’t be.

Anonymous asked: Do you have any experience with allerpet products? I'm curious to know if they actually work and wether or not they're actually healthy to use on a pet. Particularly a cat.

They talk a good talk, and probably don’t do any harm, but aren’t proven to be any more helpful than a regular pet shampoo. I do note they also recommend that after the allerpet product is applied, the cat should be dried and they suggest a hairdryer. You are welcome to tell me how washing the cat and drying it with a hair dryer works out.

@missnoodliness asked: Saw you treated pocket pets (rabbits and the like). 1st year vet student here wondering if you had any good texts you'd recommend, anatomical or otherwise.

I printed all my uni notes and had them bound. I also reference the BSAVA Manual of Rabbit Medicine and Surgery, and Ferret Husbandry, Medicine and Surgery by Lewington, 2nd edition. Keep in mind there are not nearly as many ‘exotic’ animals kept in Australia as there are in the USA. We don’t even have hamsters.

Definitely not the last Anonymous asked: Why do octopus' have ink sacs?

Because they do. Evolution doesn’t have a plan, it just runs with what works. A little bit of ink goes a long way in obscuring vision in the water so an octopus can escape or hide.

And the last Anonymous of the day asked: Hi Dr! What's your favourite animal? Mine are bears 😊

I have lots of favorite animals. I even have favorite parasites (demodex). I really can’t choose just one for you, but some of my favorites include fossa, whale shark, kookaburras, tawny frogmouths, foxes, ducks and just about every domestic species.

#drferox #dr ferox #blog asks #blog housekeeping #veterinarian #vetblr #long post

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caslikescoffeeandfreckles · 7 years

Note

Prompt: “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “Because you’re wearing two different shoes.” ( *whispers* do IT )

Prompt #145Thanks, Vans!!

It was a shit day, okay?

He woke up exactly 42 minutes late, his phone hadn’t charged over the night, the 10-page rhetoric essay that was due in —fuck, fourteen hours —was barely half finished, he missed the last bus and it was raining. Of course it was fucking raining.

Castiel springs through puddles, backpack hugged to his chest because he forgot his umbrella and the last thing he needs are his laptop and school books getting soaked.

He chances a look at his phone, barely clinging to 8% of life, and the clock tells him with little sympathy that it’s 9:00 a.m. He’s late.

It takes another four minutes to reach the academic hall and he barrels through a gaggle of associate professors and onto slippery linoleum.

The classroom door sings the most pitiful announcement of his presence, making Cas cringe and drawing seventeen pairs of eyes. Cas meets one particular pair, glazed with a mix of humor and concern and Cas grimaces in response, trying to discreetly lower himself into the desk closest to the door.

“Rough morning, Castiel?” Dr. Harvelle asks, eyes going back to her sheet of notes.

Cas sighs, too shaken to take the barb in stride. He stares down at the beige tabletop of his desk. “Yes, ma’am.”

Dr. Harvelle calls the class back to order and Cas breathes easier with every eye that leaves him. But he can still feel one gaze and refuses to look up again because he doesn’t want to talk about it. He just gets his laptop out, opens a blank Word document, and tries to speedily type up all the notes projected on the white board.

He’s just finished the slide when a text alert pops into the right corner of the screen.

Dean: Are you okay?

A hundred answers come to mind but Cas doesn’t have the energy to lie or tell the truth.

Cas: Why do you ask?

Ah, deflection.

Dean: Because you’re wearing two different shoes.

Cas’s head whips down and, sure enough, he has one white sneaker and one red.

He straightens and stares ahead blankly for a moment before leaning back in complete defeat. He doesn’t hear another word Dr. Harvelle says for the rest of the hour.

He barely notices the screech of desks movings and books dropping into backpacks much later until two hands slap loudly on the desk in front of him.

His head snaps up and the same worried green eyes squint at him. “Man, you’re really out of it today,” Dean says

Cas huffs and climbs out of the desk. “That wasn’t necessary, Dean,” he says weakly.

“I said your name like five times, dude. It was necessary. What’s going on?”

Cas is reaching for his backpack when it’s yanked out of his reach, placed safely over Dean’s shoulder. He wants to protest but it wilts under the gravity of Dean’s stare.

“Cas. What’s going on?” he repeats, voice colored with concern and no room for argument.

I’m fine, are the words working the tip of Cas’s tongue. Always I’m fine.

He opens his mouth and closes it, looks around the classroom that’s empty of everyone but Dr. Harvelle and the truth scratches it’s way up his throat.

“I-I just- I don’t know,” comes his whisper and he meets Dean’s eyes, feeling almost wild like. There’s a pressure rising in his head and he’s shaking and all he can do is shrug as Dean frowns in confusion. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I’m so tired but I can’t sleep because there-there’s so much and I-I can’t- I can’t...”

Dean’s hand comes to rest on Cas’s shoulder, giving him an empathetic squeeze and Cas is grateful because if he keeps going he’ll combust. Then Dean’s hand is falling to capture Cas’s and they’re moving.

“Wh-where are we going?” Cas sniffles, trailing after his friend.

“Someone that will make you happy,” Dean says confidently.

“But I have another class in an hour!”

Dean casts a glance over his shoulder. “Does it take attendance?”

Cas ducks his head. “No.”

“Then you’re skipping.”

There is no further argument as Dean leads Cas across campus and to the garage where he keeps Baby. They don’t speak as Dean drives them through town, far from the university and their normal hang-outs.

Then they’re parking and Cas finally looks up, breath catching at the sign over the little blue building. He looks to Dean who just smiles and climbs out of the Impala.

It’s warm inside and loud with choruses of yips and barks and little mewls.

Dean walks straight to the front desk and smiles at the red-haired receptionist. “Hello. My friend here is in dire need of some puppy love.”

The woman leans to give Cas an appraising look. “Dead week?” she asks.

“Dead week,” Dean confirms.

“Follow me.”

They’re led back to the kennel and Cas is dumbstruck as they pass a row of dogs until he’s being seated in a stall and then there’s a Cocker Spaniel in his lap.

The little ball of fur burrows into Cas’s stomach before climbing up his chest to sniff at his neck and lick his ears. Cas holds it carefully as it continues to scramble up his shoulders and bite at his hair.

“Hey, Arwen, chill dude,” the receptionist says as she gently eases the puppy’s mouth away from Cas’s head. “Sorry, she’s a hair puller.”

But Cas just smiles and nuzzles the pup’s little face. “It’s okay.”

“Arwen?” Dean asks, a little incredulous.

She shrugs. “She has the beauty of Liv Tyler. I mean, look at that face.”

“It is a striking resemblance,” Cas says and then sputters because the puppy is trying to bite his lip. He laughs.

“You got an Aragorn in here?”

The receptionist’s smile is smug and twenty seconds later Dean has a German Sheppard trying to eat his face.

They play with the entire cast because the receptionist —Charlie, they learn — might be the biggest LOTR nerd they’ve ever encountered. There’s one pair that really steal Cas’s heart: a Bulldog named Gimli and a Samoyed named Legolas who wrestle each other until they collapse on one another for a nap.

Cas’s stomach hurts from laughing and he’s almost lightheaded, stroking Pippin’s back as the Dachshund snores in his lap.

“Feel better?” Dean asks, rubbing Boromir’s belly.

Cas looks up and he beams. “Much.”

“’Thank you for being such an amazing and caring and sweet friend, Dean. I’m so lucky to have met you,’” Dean says, voice so low he’s practically growling.

Cas tilts his head. “Was that supposed to be me?”

Dean clears his throat. “How do you talk like that man? Almost pulled a vocal cord.”

Cas stretches a leg carefully to nudge Dean’s knee. Dean gestures down at his lap, affronted. “Come on, Cas, show a little respect for the future king of Gondor. He’s tired, man.”

“Thank you for being such an amazing and caring and sweet friend, Dean,” Cas says with a sincere smile. “I’m so lucky to have met you.”

Dean sputters and avoids Cas’s eyes, giving a noncommittal shrug and a grunt. “’s not a big deal.”

Cas predicted this response and he shifts Pippin up so he can scoot across the stall until he’s right in front of Dean. “But it is. And it should be repaid.”

“I don’t think offering to go over all my papers due next week would be the best thing for you right now,” Dean says, arching his brows.

“I wasn’t going to offer to do that. I was thinking dinner-”

“Well you sure as hell better not cook me something because I’m still recovering from that spaghetti two months ago.”

Cas swats at his friend’s knee, careful not to disturb the sleeping puppy. “I said I was sorry for that!”

“Tell that to my digestive system-”

“Stop distracting me so I can ask you out, you insufferable assbutt!”

Dean’s eyes snap to attention and he looks bewildered. “Y-you want to ask me out? Like on a date?”

“If you stop making fun of me long enough to,” Cas says, laughter in his voice.

“Okay.” Dean’s lips meld together.

Cas sucks in a deep breath, opening his eyes to meet Dean’s. “Dean. Would you like to get dinner with my some time?”

“As a date?” Dean clarifies.

“As a date.”

His smile is soft and he’s looking away again but it’s not awkward. He almost looks...flattered. “Okay,” he agrees and Cas hears angels singing.

“Great.”

They sit silently for a few moments, just reveling in the sweet shift between them.

“Should we put these puppies back make it lunch instead of dinner?” Dean asks. “Because I don’t know about you, but I haven’t eaten today.”

The second Dean says it, Cas’s stomach grumbles. “That sounds like a great plan.”

They call Charlie back in and hand her the puppies after a few more lingering cuddles. Charlie leads them back up front and invites them to come back any time.

“Hey, dude, you know you’re wearing two different shoes right?” she calls after them as they approach the exit.

Dean stifles a laugh and Cas rolls his eyes before taking Dean’s hand in his, turning Dean’s chuckles into a gasp. He smiles.

“Yeah, I know.”

This...this got so out of hand, Vans, I’m so sorry

tagging The Squad: @wanderingcas @randomdestielfangirl @destielonfire

#answered #destiel #destiel fic #drabble #au #college au #fluff #friends to lovers #prompts #mine #prompt fill #bennylaffite #asks

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