#HAPPY MEOW MEOW DAY TO THIS GORGEOUS LITTLE ASSHOLE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sukorakurai · 3 years

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@snarkyship is a true genius. I commission this Stark Family Portrait and I couldn’t be happier. I wrote a little fic to accompany this fabulous Picture. hope you all enjoy.

Stark Family Picture Day

By Sukora Kurai

Tony sighed over the counter in the communal kitchen. He had been there since dawn when he asked Jarvis what day it was. Then his trusty AI informed him of an importance of this month. Now he was stuck with what to do now.

“Hey Tony what’s got you down?”

“Hey Capsicle, I’m doomed.”

“Oh come on Tony, it can’t be that bad you are an Avenger.” Steve smiled as he got out food to make omelets for the Team, and greeted the in coming members. “Morning Nat, morning Bruce.”

“Morning Steve, what’s wrong with Tony?” Bruce greeted heading to the stove to put the kettle on for his morning tea.

“Not sure I found him like this.” Steve stated cracking some eggs into a bowl.

“His and Loki’s anniversary is this month and he has no idea what to get him.” Nat answered pouring a large mug of coffee.

Tony shot up in his seat and stared slack jawed. “How could you possibly know that?”

“It’s my job as a shield Agent and Pepper’s PA to keep tabs on you. So it is well documented when you clumsily asked Loki to be your boyfriend during the Lord of the Rings Marathon where you bought out the AMC Theater for the day.” The Spy shrugged ignoring the fact that all her team mates stared at her in horror. All were now wondering what she had on them in those SHIELD files.

“So Tony, you have and anniversary coming up? Have you though about what Loki might like?” Steve coughed drawing the conversation back to the main topic.

“No, I don’t. What does one give a god especially one that has magic and can make anything appear out of thin air?” Tony waved his arms in frustration.

“That is a tough one but I’m sure anything you get him will be fine. Loki loves you Tony.” Bruce tried to be supportive.

“I hope you will be putting more thought into the gift you give me next month for our anniversary.” Nat gave the Gamma Doctor a pointed before wandering out of the room to start her routine before heading out to work.

“Ha, I’m not the only one in hot water now!” Tony crowed at the look of devastation in his science-bro’s face.

“Tony, knock it off. Now in my day it was the thought that counted most. You should find what Loki cherishes the most. You find that then you can present to him in a meaningful way. It’s true he’s a prince and probably has had his other lovers throw jewels and meaningless expensive trinkets at him to win his affections. You know Loki better because you love him and he loves you.” Steve pointed out.

“Yeah, Lokes complains a lot about his life in Asgard and that there were many who wooed him just to get to Thor. At night when it’s just the two of us and RC snuggled between us he sighs soft and says what a perfect night it is. He never elaborates but I think it means that he likes just the quiet nights with us.” The genius eyes went glazed as he recalled the many nights he cuddled with his god. Then the idea hit him. “Hey Spangles, can you paint or do you just draw?”

“Huh,” Steve was caught off guard and almost dropped the omelet he was flipping. “I paint from time to time.”

“Don’t lie babe you are in your studio whenever can get the chance.” Bucky laughed entering the kitchen. “All the paintings in our apartment Stevie did.”

“Great! Can you do a portrait if I get you a picture?” Tony asked digging in to the ham and cheese omelet.

“Yeah, it might take two weeks maybe less depends on if we get called out or if SHIELD needs me.” The captain estimated placing another plate in front of his boyfriend.

“As long as it’s done before the end of the month we’re good. Jarvis start looking through my photos and pull out any possible portraits.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Delicious breakfast as usual Capsicle. I’ll get you the photo as soon as I find one.” Tony dumped his empty plate in sink and ran off to his lab.

Two hours later…

“None of these are good enough J.”

“Sir, might I suggest you take a new photo of you and Prince Loki.”

“Yeah and RC too, because she’s our baby. We can’t have a Family Portrait without all the family members. Where’s are RC now?”

“She is currently with Alpine in his play room.”

“Cool, I think I got the perfect outfit in mind.” Tony grinned as he ran to his emergency closet in the lab. Tony had put in the closet when he realized he destroyed a lot of his clothes during his inventing and building phases. Also there was a suit or two for the days he forgot he was supposed to be in a meeting and had to make a rush to the board room.

In the penthouse…

It had been a quiet morning with no call outs, no calls to Asgard and no need to go anywhere. Loki decided to enjoy the peace and quite lounging in his soft Asgardian casual clothes on the couch reading his mother’s spell journal.

“Hey there, Bambi! It’s Picture Day!”

“Anthony, what are you on about?” The prince looked up from his book to see his lover carrying their cat into the living room.

“Well Picture Day refers to the day school kids take pictures for the yearbook and photos are bought for family distribution. Anyways I want to have a family picture that was honest. I never had that growing up because Howard was an asshole and Maria, my mother, was frail. She loved me but she couldn’t express it because she was always ill. Now we have our own little family and I want a picture to put in the lab.”

“You want to take this picture now? Anthony, I look a mess and how did you get the bow on the cat?”

“Aww, you look gorgeous, love, as always. Anyways, I put a bow on our baby because RC loves to look pretty for her daddies. Don’t you sweetie.” Tony scratched under the kitty’s chin as they sat on couch next to the god.

“Mew,” RC purred.

“Fine, you win, where would you like to take the picture? Also what are you wearing? I don’t believe I’ve seen that outfit before, and what is on your feet?” Loki set his book aside and took in his lover’s appearance.

“Oh you like? I dressed in red and gold to match my shoes. I had these shoes made based on my Iron Man suit. I thought maybe putting them on the market for kids but I liked them too much to share. So I have a life time supply in the lab. If you want I can have a pair made for you.”

“No thank you. They clash with my outfit. Now let’s take your picture.” Loki said taking the cat in his arms.

“Okay, okay. Let me get out my phone.” Tony fished his Stark Phone out of his back pocket and held it out to make them all fit in the frame. “Okay say cheese!”

“Click”

“Okay let’s see how that one turned out.” Tony looked at the photo to see him smiling a black blur and a bland look on Loki’s face. “Nope we got try again. This time smile Loki and RC you need to stay still so we can see you.”

And it went picture by picture they have yet to take a family portrait.

“Shit I only got half your face.”

“Anthony your thumb is on the lens.”

“RC Stay still!”

“Achoo! Ow! I dropped on my foot!”

“Do not eat my hair you Retched Creature!”

“Okay I set it up on a tripod. Now say cheese.”

“CHEESE BROTHER!” Thor popped up between the two men who stared at shock at the blond god.

“Next!” Tony rolled his eyes as Loki vanished his brother to where ever. Tony didn’t ask where the Loki sent Thunder god. He rather liked staying in the tower and wanted to keep it that way.

“Meow!”

“No RC! Don’t chase the bunny!”

Three Hours Later…

“Okay, this is it I can feel it. Now Jarvis is going to take the picture the bunnies are secure in their room. The penthouse is locked down, so no unexpected guest and RC is filled of milk to keep her calm and relaxed. And I promise after we get this picture I will have Jarvis order you favorite meal from the Thai Palace down the street and I’ll rub your feet, while we watch you favorite Harry Potter movies.”

“Oh Anthony you spoil me. I love you.” Loki sighed as a soft smile graced his face and he leaned into his lover as Tony joined their hands together. RC who was seated now on the god’s shoulder leaned in and purred soaking up the love of her people. The genius couldn’t be happier in that moment as he had his to precious family members with him and the grin on his face was wide and bright.

“Click.”

Two Weeks Later…

“Sir Prince Loki and Mr. Odinson have returned from Asgard.”

“Great, I got everything ready. Tell Loki that I have dinner ready and waiting.”

“Yes, sir.” Tony had the table set with Loki’s Favorite food from the five star steak house, they go to. He paid extra to have the chef come over and cook for their anniversary.

“Ding.”

“Thank you, Jarvis. Evening Anthony, never in my life had been so glad to leave Asgard. He talked for hours at the council over stagnant topics. What’s all this?”

“Well my hard working God of Mischief, today is our one year Anniversary and I have planned the perfect evening. Dinner, a bath and I installed a movie screen in our bathroom so we can enjoy the movie of your choice during the bath and then I plan on us making love until dawn.” Tony pulled Loki over to the dinner table, watching as the god’s magic removed the armor and replaced it with comfortable Asgardian wear.

“You lovely little man, you spoil me so; I don’t deserve it or you.” The Raven pulled the billionaire into his arms and planting kisses all over the man’s face.

“Yes you do, because I love you and I got you something, well I got Cap to make it, but it was my idea.”

“You didn’t have to, dinner is more than enough.”

“No, I wanted to. Now close your eyes and I’ll get your present.” As Loki closed his eyes Tony ran out of the room and grabbed the portrait from where he hid it. He placed it on the wall then Jarvis turned on the lights illuminating the painting. “Okay open them.”

“Oh Anthony! It’s wonderful.” Loki’s eyes became all misty seeing their little family together and there was so much love radiating from painting. “It’s perfect.”

“Happy Anniversary Reindeer Games.”

“Happy Anniversary, my Man of Iron.” Loki whispered pulling Tony in to the sweetest kiss they ever shared. They didn’t hear the click sound of Jarvis capturing the moment with the sunset background. Another memory to save for another day.

The End.

#fanart #fiction from fanart #iron frost #frostiron #ironfrost #Iron Man #tony x loki #loki x tony #loki #random black cat #tony stark #Avengers #Marvel MCU #Family Portrait

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buckybarnesbingo · 3 years

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Titles Game

Tonight I'm Going Back to My Old Ways - suggested by @steverogersnotebook

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky didn’t usually go for straight guys. Not since Brock in college, anyway. But tonight, all he could see was the blond across the bar. He was laughing with his friends, and he was gorgeous. Muscles for days, a body Bucky wanted to climb like a tree, and a wonderful smile that was a combination of Hallmark wholesome and downright dirty that shouldn’t have worked, but did. The piercing blue eyes just sealed the deal: Bucky was going to get him in his bed. (there would definitely be a tag in there about how they need to communicate and how Steve's not straight)

@wolfnprey - Bucky had settled down after he started a family. Everything told him he didn't deserve happiness, but he was beyond listening. Until some old ghosts showed up. Literal ghosts, and they were hellbent on making sure Bucky's life was upended. He'd buried the necronamicon in the basement ten years ago, but now he was digging it up with the help of his old partner. If only Steve was forgiving.

@steverogersnotebook - (Early recovering Bucky) finds it hard to come to terms with the modern Brooklyn, seeks out night clubs and smokes like a chimney in an effort to feel the way he remembers feeling.

@ribbonsflyingoutthewindow - Their relationship had been strained in a way that Bucky was pretty sure couple's therapy couldn't fix. Not that he had tried. He wasn't about to unload all of his trauma concerning not being his old self anymore on some poor middle-aged Brooklynite mother of three even if she did have a degree that supposedly helped. There was no way she was prepared to help a brainwashed assassin with a fault list from Coney Island to hell and back again. So instead he'd unloaded all of that on Natasha. As a best friend, she was legally obligated to listen to him anyway. And besides, she was cheaper; she could be bought with a whine and a wine. However, talking to Natasha also meant he got the cold, hard truth that his relationship was suffering not because he'd forgotten who he was and became a brainwashed assassin for decades, but because he'd forgotten who Steve was and hadn't spent a lot of time figuring it out again. So per his therapist's (Natasha's, whatever) advice, Bucky's getting back to his roots and rebecoming the man who knew everything about Steve Rogers and hoping that maybe somewhere along the line, he can figure out what it was that made the two of them work so perfectly together.

More under the cut!

Down the rabbit hole - suggested by @liquidlightz

@phoenixgryphon - MCU Nat going down the rabbit hole that is pre Cap2 TWS information

@steverogersnotebook - An edgy Alice AU where bucky meets the OUAT version of the mad hatter.

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky wasn’t sure how, but he was constantly seeing the same figure out of the corner of his eye. A tall, muscular blonde, who seemed as though he wasn’t quite there, which was why Bucky was sure he was imagining the man, or confusing multiple tall muscular blonds. They weren’t as uncommon as one would think, and Bucky was so tired, so he decided not to worry about the blond. Until the day he literally fell down a rabbit hole - in Brooklyn, of all places - and ended up in another version of New York.

@wolfnprey - Stripper AU. Nat drags Bucky to Down the Rabbit Hole for a particular stripper named Alice who is a beefy blond with bright blue eyes.

@bookdragon13 - Or alternatively: Steve goes to Storybrooke during his quest to find Bucky and meets Jefferson. Steve immediately goes “Bucky?” And Jefferson, in his sassy way, says “who the hell is Bucky?” But proceeds to use his hat to help Steve find his Bucky, if only to meet his lookalike Whether or not this becomes angsty, I’m not sure

@psychiccatpanda - Bucky In the 21st Century: After spending too much time on the internet trying to figure out what some of the things he’d been hearing about really were, Bucky wishes he’d trusted Tony when he said, “Snowflake, there’s whole swaths of the interwebs you don’t want to know. Trust me, please?” Now, six and a half hours later, he knew that there was Avengers fan fiction (and what that consisted of) and Avengers cosplay porn. He wasn’t sure what to do with this information. But maybe he just needed to do some more research. After a snack.

@liquidlightz - Alpine was very protective. Bucky loved gardening and he'd planted many different flowers, but there was a fat rabbit that kept popping by and eating all the best tulips, daylilies, you name it. Bucky was hesitant to harm the creature, but Alpine was having no more of it. She chased said rabbit down its hole and Bucky had to dig her back out.

@ribbonsflyingoutthewindow - Bucky’s family owned a farm so he'd had a plethora of pets his entire life, but when he'd moved to the big city, Bucky had stuffed Top Hat the white rabbit in her carrier and told her they were headed for the adventure of a lifetime, no looking back. And truth be told, sometimes New York was lonely. But the other truth was he didn't miss Indiana at all. He loved New York, but he'd never regretted his move more than the day he came home to discover Top Hat not in her enclosure. He had to go door to door on the entire floor and maybe the floor above and below his. Everyone had to help find his missing long-eared, fluffy-tailed best friend. Cue everyone in Bucky's apartment complex searching the entire building for one white rabbit trying to pull her own disappearing act. And cue Bucky searching for a rabbit, but finding maybe a little more along the way.

You pull hope from defeat in the night - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast

@steverogersnotebook - After a terrible loss on a mission, Bucky and [strained relationship/preferred pairing] are nearly wiped out themselves. One has to get out and get help for the other before it's too late for them too. In dragging the injured party to safety, promises made in supplication reignite hope for a resolution.

@somesortofitalianroast - (pre-serum!steve/Winter Soldier!Bucky) After exhausting missions, there’s nothing Steve likes better than hooking up with a guy at a bar, preferably one who would believe him when he said he wouldn’t break. Tonight, he chose the guy carefully, a big, beefy brunet with thighs for days and something about him that made him look gentle. One night turned into another. And another. And another…. Who said hookups couldn’t lead to love?

@bookdragon13 - Just when Bucky was feeling his lowest, walking around Brooklyn at night, he hears a faint meowing. Bucky finds the white kitten and takes it to the local vet. Afterwards, he couldn’t just leave the white fur ball behind, adopting her and giving her the name Alpine. With Alpine around, Bucky couldn’t help but start feeling like he could climb out of the hole he’d dug himself in. He can’t help but laugh at Alpine’s antics and when he’s having a bad day, she cuddles with Bucky as he rubs his fingers through her fur

@liquidlightz - Bucky had written off more cheques than his body could cash, yet again. Losing badly at poker and getting beaten down for failing to pay up. This night was turning out better than the last, as he found himself in the hands of a gorgeous Doctor with gentle hands who seemed to enjoy his attempts at flirting through bloodied teeth. Things might be looking up, he was going to go all in and take another chance tonight.

@wolfarrowepz - (Winterhawk, hockey AU)The Avengers were eliminated in the second round of the playoffs.... less than a third of the team had been with them when they won the championship 3 years ago. Now all Bucky wants to do is go home and sulk and ice his knee in peace. Clint has decided he needs to come to dinner with the team to show all the rookies and new guys to show them that losing isn't the end of the world. Fuck it all if Bucky will do whatever Clint asks. Bucky he liked him since they joined the team together as rookies. Clint is 100% oblivious to every move Bucky makes but if Clint asks him to do something he will. Clint on the other hand is convinced Bucky isn't into him. Cue pining and the inevitable "of course I Like you, you dope!" moment.

With Steel and Silver Burning Heart - suggested by @ibelieveinturtles

@steverogersnotebook - Dragon trainer AU, Steve goes to slay the dragon, Bucky's the dragon trainer. They meet, they clash, they enemies to friends to lovers.

@phoenixgryphon - big beefy bucky the blacksmith. who builds broadswords to bring in the bills

@somesortofitalianroast - (Regency!AU) James Barnes was well aware that he was the Marquis of Buchannan in name only. With no money left in the estates coiffers and three younger sisters - the oldest a mere year before her official debut - to support, he was desperate. Desperate enough to approach the new Duke of Brooklyn - a known rake with a history of getting in duels - with an offer: he supplies the cash for Rebecca’s debutante and in return, he gets James. But what happens when the purely financial relationship is no longer purely financial?

@liquidlightz - Bucky was not amused when the blade pierced his heart. Fuck, that hurt! "You asshole", he berated his not-looking-so-hot-now date on the other end of that dagger, "I thought we were having a good time." Bucky had to thank his lucky stars, and not his wits, that this hunter was a moron and that blade was cheap metal and not silver. He should, maybe, start being a little more discerning in his hookups.

@bookdragon13 - As a Knight of the Realm, Bucky was sworn to protect the royal family. He didn’t mean to fall in love with the Princess in the process. Neither did Bucky realize he was a jealous man, until he saw another knight, Brock, try to kiss the Princess, with her unwilling. Bucky immediately called Brock out, challenging him to a duel. When Brock was wounded, Bucky threatened that if Brock tried anything with Her Royal Highness again, he wouldn’t be so lenient.

#buckybarnesbingo2021 #bbb2021 #bbb discord party #titles game #party game

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lindzem · 4 years

Text

BLACK CAT

Jack laughed as he strode down the sidewalk with his sister Emma. They'd had a normal day of school and the chilly october breeze whirled leaves all around. Emma giggled as she bounced into a pile of leaves playfully before jogging back next to her brother.

Jack pulled out his wallet and hummed.

"Ready for some pumpkin ice cream to celebrate you getting an A on your math test?"

Emma twirled and bounced.

"Yes yes yes! Its pumpkin season! Woohoo!"

Jack smiled as he kept walking with her until they both heard a piercing screech from a nearby alleyway. Emma hid behind her brother instinctively with a frown.

"What was that...?"

Jack frowned and paused also.

"The heck...? Hey, stay here. I'll check it out."

"Be careful, Jack..."

The brown haired boy cautiously walked over to the alley entrance. The closer he got to the commotion the worse he heard. A sniggering voice babbled while a few others laughed.

"Let's glue its tail to its back!"

Another voice chimed.

"No, let's pour the glue in its ears!"

Jack rushed forwards to see three male teens a few years older than him had trapped a black cat in a broken cage. They were harrassing it terribly and one of the boys had a bottle of super glue in his hand. Jack couldn't bear what was about to happen.

He yelled and rushed forwards, slamming into the kid with the glue and it crashed onto the ground.

"Leave the cat alone, you assholes!"

Flustered, all the teens watched as Jack threw himself between them.

"The hell?! Go away if you know what's good for you, punk!"

"It's just a stupid cat! Mind your own business!"

Jack growled angrily.

"Leave it alone!"

The tallest teen hissed.

"Get him!"

Jack's eyes widened and he turned around to shield the cat with his body as all the bullies began to wail on him. Jack took the blows and winced, cringing with every kick and punch until they got bored. They left and Jack slowly sat up. His body ached and stung all over. But the cat was alright. That was what mattered.

"H-Hey...its ok little fella...they're gone. Here, lemme get you out of there."

Slowly but surely Jack pried some of the cage wiring back enough for the cat to yank out of it. The feline rushed a few feet away but turned around and stared back at him confused. After a minute it ran away and Jack sighed. He stood and walked back out to Emma.

"Hey, sorry to keep you waiting."

Emma hugged him and he yelped.

"What happened?!"

"Oh, just had to save a cat from these jerks. You know, cool hero stuff~ Now let's go get you some ice cream!"

Emma nodded and they walked off to the ice cream shop.

The next morning Jack awoke much sorer and groaned. He tried to sit up until he saw something at the end of his bed. He rubbed his eyes and blinked. It was the same black cat he saved yesterday. He startled and jerked back, hitting his head on his bedboard. He squeaked and held it.

"Ow! Fuck-!"

The cat merely watched him curiously and calmly, swishing its tail. Jack saw it had such bright gold eyes that stared deeply and intently, but they meant no harm.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get inside my house?"

The cat stayed silent and still. Jack blinked and groaned.

"Alright you gotta go. Come on."

He slowly got out of bed and reached for the cat, but it jumped away from him onto the floor with a chirp. Emma came through the door and gasped when she saw the cat.

"Jack lets go, we're gonna be late for the movie--! Is that the cat?! It's so cuuute!!!"

Surprisingly the cat seemed content with Emma picking it up and hugging it.

"Yeah, but its gotta go. And so do we. Come on then."

He gets dressed and goes with her downstairs to the front door. They walk out and stroll down the sidewalk into town. Suddenly the cat begins to squirm and meow. Emma frowned.

"Huh, whats wrong kitty?"

It jumps down from her arms and meows at them loudly. It rushes forwards and turns around constantly to see if they are following.

"It wants us to follow it!"

Jack shrugged.

"Emma if we go that way, we'll be late for the movie."

She pouted and looked back at him.

"No we wont, come on!"

Jack sighed and followed along. The cat leads them down to the end of the block and stops in front of a black oranate metal doorway with golden painted etchings all over. The cat pushed the door open and ran inside. Emma giggled and followed.

"Wait kitty!"

Jack looked more concerned now, not wanting his sister to rush into someplace dangerous.

"Emma, wait, stop!"

He went in after her and slowed down, seeing all sorts of whacky looking artifacts and trinkets everywhere. The place was only illuminated by candles and everything was mostly the colors of black and gold. Jack was relieved to see Emma staring into an beautiful crystal ball on top of a round table in the middle of the room.

"This place is so cool, Jack!"

Jack walked over to her and kept eyeing around the room.

"Uh, yeah, but it's also a bit creepy. Never too early for Halloween I guess. Where's the cat?"

"I dunno. I lost it. Maybe it lives here! We brought it back home, yay!"

Jack gently nudged her.

"Alright, now lets get back to the movie, huh?"

Emma sighed.

"Aww but I like this place!"

Just that moment a tall man stepped out from behind a drapery of black velvet curtains. Jack gasped and instinctively stepped in front of his sister to protect her if need be. The man was lithe and draped in a gorgeous black silk robe with delicate golden lace all over the neck and arms. He also wore a sparkling golden feathery boa around his neck. His hair was ebony black and his eyes glinted gold in the candle light.

"Good afternoon, children~ How may I be of service?"

Jack felt oddly uneasy about this man and forced a smile.

"O-Oh no, we're sorry to intrude. We were just leaving, really--"

The man tisked his tongue and chuckled.

"It's no bother at all~ Im always happy to have guests. My name is Pitch and I am a fortune teller by trade."

Emma gasped and squealed.

"Really?! Jack, let's get our fortunes told! Pleeeease!"

Jack eyed her.

"But I thought you wanted to see the Perfect Princess Ponypal movie?"

"We can see it next week! Please please please!"

Jack sighed and smiled a little. He couldn't say no to her.

"Ok ok, we can. How much is it?"

Pitch smiled and motioned to the table.

"For you two, I'll make it free. Come, sit."

Pitch sat across the table from Emma and Jack. Jack sat and watched as the man sprinkled some golden powder over the crystal ball. It began to swirl around in various colors.

"Now then. Who's fortune shall we tell?"

Emma piped up.

"Jack's!"

Jack rolled his eyes and laughed a little. Pitch nodded with a smile.

"Very well~ Now let's see. Your aura is a beautiful snowy white, my boy. How interesting indeed."

Jack watched Pitch carress the crystal ball with his finger tips and the coloring inside turned all sparkling white.

"Woah, that's cool. What does it mean?"

"You put on a tough exterior show, but deep down you are as soft as the first snowfall in winter."

Jack flustered a tad.

"Eheh, yeah ok. Sure."

Pitch smiled and eyed the young teen curiously.

"I'd like to read your palms, if you'll allow."

"Uh, sure."

Jack held out his right hand. Pitch gently took it im his own and began to trace some lines softly.

"Very interesting. You're going to live a very long fulfilling life it seems. You have untold strength and destiny awaiting you."

Jack laughed a little, not believing it because fortune tellers were always just cheap parlor tricks and observation.

"Wow. Who knew."

Pitch smiled and looked directly at him.

"Give me that ring on your necklace."

Jack's blood froze. It was a gift from his departed mother. He hesitated.

"I...uhm...ok."

He slowly took it off and handed it over. Pitch accepted it and gazed for a minute quietly.

"Fascinating..."

Jack eyed him oddly.

"What?"

"This ring is a treasured memory of yours. From your mother, yes?"

Jack felt a lump in his throat and uneasyness in his stomach. How could he have possibly known that? Unless he'd been spying on them somehow. Was it something to do with that cat? No, that's crazy...

Jack held his hand out urgently, not comfortable being there anymore.

"Uh, thanks, but I just remembered we have things we need to do at home."

Jack took back the ring and stood, grabbing Emma's arm and tugging. She groaned in upset and confusion.

"Jaaack, no we dont-!"

He interrupted her sharply.

"Yes, we really do. Come on, we need to go now."

Pitch stood and eyed Jack with his own sense of unease.

"Jack, please, I didn't mean any harm."

Jack didn't answer. He knew this felt like a bad idea. Just as Jack got to the door, it suddenly locked itself. Jack's eyes widened in fear as he grabbed and yanked at the handle.

"W-What the hell-?! Unlock this door right--"

Jack whirled around, but Pitch was right behind him. It was a split second before Jack felt Pitch's hand on his head. Instantly Jack slipped into a deep sleep.

When the boy awoke he realized he was still in Pitch's home. He jerked up and looked around frantically. Why did he feel so cold? He jumped up off the bed and paused. Why wasn't he feeling sore from his injuries? In fact, he felt better than ever before, like a new energy was flowing through him.

No, he needed to find his sister. Who knows what awful things that creep could have done to her. He rushed out from the small bedroom area and down the stairs into what appeared to be the kitchen. He saw Pitch cooking some eggs and growled.

"Where is Emma?! What did you do to her, you sick bastard!?"

Pitch blinked and glanced over his shoulder.

"Oh good, you're awake! Now we can get start--"

Jack lunged and slammed into Pitch, shoving him down to the ground. The teen grasped his hands around Pitch's neck and began to choke him with a strength he never knew he had. Pitch tried to pull the boy's hands off, but he wasn't as strong.

"What did you to her?!"

Pitch rasped out.

"Sh..She's f-fine!!! Home, a-at your ho--me!"

Jack began to see frost and ice crystalize its way around Pitch's neck and face as he choked him. He suddenly let him go and backed away in fear.

"W-What the hell-!? What was that?!"

Pitch coughed and gasped for air, clutching his neck. He wheezed and eyed the teen cautiously as he rasped.

"Look...L-Look..."

Jack seemed confused until Pitch pointed frantically at a huge wall length mirror nearby. Jack glanced up and then did a double take with horrified eyes. He slowly walked over in mortified shock. His eyes were blue now and his hair was white as snow, instead of both being his normal brown.

"What did you do to me-!? I--I--! Where's Emma--the stupid fucking cat-?!"

Pitch stood up and slowly approached.

"Jack, I am the cat. Im just repaying you for saving me in the alleyway."

#blackicerotg #blackice #rotg #riseoftheguardians #pitch black #pitchblack #rotg jack frost #jackfrost #rise of the guardians #halloween #black cat #rotg pitch black

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headoverhiddles · 4 years

Text

Like A Heretic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Fluff]

Synopsis: You know Manson from one (1) party, yet he feels the need to drunk text you his obscene propositions at 2 am on a Wednesday?

Notes: What?? I wrote a fluff fic?? Yea, it’s been known to happen. Shhh. Pale Emperor era. Also, this one is gender neutral, reader can be any gender!

You collapse into the plush of your down comforter, feeling the fluffy feathers sink beneath you. Smiling to yourself, you clear the day away in your brain, bulldozing over every worry, publicity problem, or stressed manager that could be dealt with the next day. For now, you’re in your bed, and nothing can come between you and a peaceful night’s sleep.

You cuddle into your pillow. The feeling you’ve got right now is comparable to a the perfect orgasm-- you never want to leave this bed. Your mind starts to drift, and you picture yourself on a beach somewhere, where no one can reach you. No one... no one... except that bee buzzing in your ear.

Groggily, you open your eyes. That’s not a bee. It’s your phone.

Dammit, why didn’t you put it on silent? You go to turn it off properly, but the text on your screen makes you hesitate. You blink a few times, squinting through the dark at your phone. Were you reading that right?!

Manson: Hey (y/n) psssst. I’ve got a secret can I tell you the secret

“What the fuck?” you mumble out loud, and sigh, turning on your bedside lamp. Manson? What... oh. Oh, yeah. About two months ago, you had attended a music awards event in New York, and had met a few new people. One of them had been Marilyn Manson. He had been a lot more down to earth than you had imagined he would be, and the two of you hit it off pretty well.

It struck you as interesting as well, but he had followed you around that night like a lost puppy. He always wanted to be around you, and it had been him who had suggested you exchange numbers, maybe hang out, go see a movie or something. You had excitedly given him your number, but didn’t think much would come of it. He probably got lots of people’s numbers, then forgot about them the next week.

So why was he texting you at... 2:13 in the morning?! You stare at the same text again.

Manson: Hey (y/n) psssst. I’ve got a secret can I tell you the secret

You bite your lip, and type out a quick text back.

(y/n): Shoot.

His reply is almost immediate.

Manson: I wanted to say when I saw you and we hung out at radio city last month you were cute really sexy n beautiful ad I miss you :( :(

You blush a little bit, but type back a cautious text.

(y/n): You feeling alright?

Before you can hit send though, another text from him comes in.

Manson: If you think I am drunk and handsome you are correct, i’m both

You giggle a little, and sit up fully. Manson’s drunk texting you, telling you you’re cute? This couldn’t get any crazier if you made it up.

Manson: Do you know what sexting is?

You raise your eyebrows.

(y/n): I’m familiar with it, yes.

You bite your lip. Should you add a winky face? Before you can, he writes back.

Manson: what if i told you I wanted to lick your body ad probably do butt stuff with you too?

You feel yourself heat up even more, and you don’t know whether to laugh or get aroused.

(y/n): You fucking with me, Manson?

Manson: I would like to fuck you, yes.

(y/n): So... tell me more, then. What else would you do to me?

Manson: Id cum on your chest

Manson: oops was that too far?

(y/n): No... go on.

Manson: maybe on your face then if you want that, I wanna be respectful

Manson: I’d also punish your sex hole. i’m really good at that

(y/n): You sound like a porn bot lol

Manson: dirty old man in your area looking for hot singles <3 that looks like a pointy dick

You giggle, and are about to sign off so you can sleep for real, but he texts again with something that makes you pause.

Manson: Wanna cum over?

You stare at the text, waiting to see if he’ll write again. You wait, and wait. Nothing else is coming in. You type out a few possible responses. Then you finally hit send on your last one, biting your lip.

(y/n): What’s your address?

Shit. Shit shit! What are you doing? Looking back at your bed though, you can’t deny you feel a thrill. This is the shit you moved here to LA to do.

---

Pulling up to Manson’s address, the place is just like him-- not what you were expecting. It’s a dark apartment above a liquor store, with black out curtains covering the window. You walk over to the stairs, and catch the door when someone walks out. Heading inside, you look down at your phone, and find his number. Apartment 15.

You knock softly, and wait. When he doesn’t come to the door, you shoot him off another text.

(y/n): I’m at your door, don’t leave me hanging or I’ll leave you with a hard on

He doesn’t respond, and you hear a moan inside. You frown, and try the door handle-- it’s open. You walk in, forgetting momentarily where you are, and see that the place is a relative mess. Piles high of books, records and movies are stacked along the walls, and there’s like, one dying plant by the darkened window. It’s laughable to assume the poor thing gets any sun, which is also a statement that could be applied to the rock star you’d come to sleep with.

A bunch of album artwork for his new record, the Pale Emperor, is laid out on his table as well. You take a quick glance at it, before dropping your jacket.

“Hey,” you call out, “I’m taking my top off! You’re gonna miss it if you don’t come find me!” You hear the moan again, and walk down the hallway. “Oh, fuck.”

“’M alright...” He’s on the floor, in a puddle, four small cats surrounding him. One rusty colored one is lapping from the puddle. Was this a Jimmi Hendrix situation???

“Please don’t tell me that’s piss,” you mutter, “Cause I am not cleaning that up.”

One of his four cats meows loudly. Manson just laughs. “It’s vodka. I slipped and broke the bottle.”

“That I can clean up,” you nod, but first, you help him to his feet. He wobbles a little, and falls into you. Pinned against the wall, his lips are inches from yours... until his head thumps beside yours, lips pressed into your neck. He’s so fucking gone. You look around, and spot the washroom down the hall the other way. You help him slowly, and he keeps talking the whole way.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mumbles, “My brain camera remembered you were hot but I didn’t remember you being this hot... mmhm...”

“You still down to fuck me?” you tease, helping him sit on the edge of his bathtub. His eyes widen a bit as he licks his lips and points a swaying finger.

“Baby I was born ready to fuck. I came out of the womb with an erection.”

You cringe. “That’s... a very disturbing mental image.”

“You know what else is disturbing? My DICK.” He frowns a little, nose scrunching up. “But not for... it’s not disturbing, it’s just disturbing how big it is... or...”

“Stop, you’re turning me on,” you smirk sarcastically, and get a towel, dabbing his face down with cool water. “How does that feel?”

“Oh baby, you feel so good, fuck,” he moans, and you blink. God damn, he really is wasted.

“Good to hear.” You plant a kiss on his cheek as you sponge down his arms, and he purrs like a big happy cat, nuzzling into your chest.

“Do that again?” You smile, and lean in, kissing him again, this time closer to his mouth. Then you kiss him again, and again, each one earning more praise from the god of fuck before you. “Mm yeah-- oh yeah-- yeah yeah, right there-- yeah yeah right there...” He grins, eyes closing. “Mmm, delightful.” He blinks up at you, swiping a hand across his smudged eyeliner. “Will you... be my friend?”

“Sure. Friends to lovers is always a fun way to go.” He seems genuinely happy with this. “You know, you’re sexy too,” you say, helping him take his shirt off. You glance down his chest and stomach at his tattoos, trying to focus on the project at hand instead of actually picturing riding him right now. “I thought so the night I met you at Radio City, and I think so now.”

“Really?” he hums, reaching up in his stupor to put a hand against his chin. He suddenly seems bashful, and realizing how vulnerable he’s made himself, hides half of his face. “Even without my makeup?”

“Definitely. I happen to think you’re beautiful.” He purses his lips.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not! In fact, if you weren’t absolutely shit hammered right now, I’d probably want you balls deep.”

He groans. “Fuck it if I’m drunk, that’s when I’m in my strongest form!” He slips a little, steadying himself on the toilet as he stands.

“I would disagree with that, but...”

“Besides, with all those compliments, you’re... you’re making my dick hard, see? And now it’s... ahh, it’s gonna be mad at me if I don’t... you know, fuck you, so...”

“Shh, for now try to walk straight.”

“Where are my asshole cats?”

“They were all watching you describe your dick to me,” you say, and he wags a finger their way.

“Dooon’t listen to daddy, my loves. Nonono. Bad. This is grown up human people talk!”

You giggle. “You must like cats.”

“I am a cat person, I love cats. That’s why I don’t give it doggy style, cause I’m a cat man. The crazy cat man. That sounds like a serial killer...”

You giggle, and guide him back down the hall. “Where’s the bedroom?” He lifts his chin to gesture to it.

“Last door on the right.” You help him into bed, and he tosses a pillow at a tall vase in the corner, sending it shattering. “Goddamn ghosts in my house, watching me sleep,” he slurs, and points wildly to his closet. “The sex toys are in there, if you wanna get yourself started...”

You smile, politely neglecting the sex closet of the rock star you’d been booty called by. Masturbating in said rock star’s home while he’s passed out shitfaced doesn’t look good for anyone involved.

“Goodnight Manson,” you sing song, and shut his door. Pressing your back against it, you exhale. What just happened?

You carefully walk over to the spilled vodka, and check the shards of glass. Thankfully no blood anywhere-- that would have been even worse to clean up. You grab a rag from the kitchen, and start mopping up the floor. One of his cats walks over from the bathroom, and starts to rub against your ankle.

“Well, hi. What’s your name, love?” You check the tag. “William. Very handsome name. Handsome just like your dad.” You sigh, as William follows you around the apartment. You feel like you shouldn’t be here anymore. It was a mistake-- he was obviously too drunk to do anything to or with you tonight. You should just leave. Yeah. Go back home, forget this ever happened and... maybe check in with him tomorrow morning, see how bad his hangover is. If he responds.

Just as you’re about to leave though, you hear his slurred voice call from the bedroom. “(y/n)--!”

You hesitate, then walk back in, shutting the door. You walk over to his room, and open the door. “Yeah?”

“...Get into bed with me? Please? Wanna hold someone...”

You look behind you, and then to him again, where he’s laying, tangled in his limbs, in the large bed. You nod, and close the door to a crack, coming in. You unzip your hoodie, and before you can come to your senses, you get into one side of his king sized bed. You hear him breathing softly, and smile a little at the sudden intimacy of it all, turning over in fetal position. Not how you expected this night to turn out, but it might be even better.

Just as you’re falling asleep in the bed of the Antichrist, you feel arms wrap around you from behind, and feel his head in the nape of your neck. Beginnings of rare stubble scratch your skin pleasantly.

“This an okay alternative to butt stuff?” he mumbles, and you reach up to hold his wrists against you.

“It’s perfect.”

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splendidlyimperfect · 4 years

Note

StinGray with prompt 60?

you’ll be in my heart

Prompt: “You look like you need a hug.”

I apologize for this taking so long! I know the prompt was for Sting x Gray and it is, just within the OT4 relationship. Hope you enjoy!

Rating: General AudiencesWarnings: No Archive Warnings ApplyRelationships: Rogue Cheney/Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster, Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney/Natsu DragneelCharacters: Sting Eucliffe, Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Happy (Fairy Tail), Frosch (Fairy Tail), Lector (Fairy Tail)Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Polyamory, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Childhood Memories, Mother-Son Relationship, Men Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hugs, Sting just really misses his mom, and Gray's good at making him feel better, Tumblr: FTLGBTalesSeries: Part 41 of i'm with them

-----

Rain pattered down against the kitchen window, sliding across the glass and puddling outside on the windowsill. The sound was soothing, and Sting sighed, leaning against the counter and looking down toward the street.

“Hey, pretty kitty,” Sting murmured as Frosche hopped up next to him, mrowling happily and rubbing herself against him. He ran his fingers through her fur, and she arched her back, pressing up against his hand while she rumbled with a deep purr.

Sting kissed the top of her head before she turned toward the window, putting her paws up on the sill and squeezing herself between the plants that Rogue had set up there. She barely fit between them and her tail hung down into the sink, flicking back and forth as she watched the raindrops.

Sting was about to move away from the window when he saw a familiar vehicle on the street. Some of the tension that had been sitting in his chest all day loosened as he watched Gray’s beat-up car pull into the parkade below the apartment.

“Looks like Gray’s home early,” Sting said to Frosche. She tipped her head back at him and meowed happily.

A few minutes later the door swung open and Frosche hopped down from the counter, sauntering over to greet Gray.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he murmured as she rubbed herself against his legs. “How was your day?”

Continue reading on AO3

“She’s been following me around the house all morning,” Sting said, taking Gray’s jacket and leaning in for a kiss. “I think she missed you.”

“Of course she missed me,” Gray said, returning the kiss and leaning down to pick Frosche up. “Her brothers are assholes and troublemakers; she needs someone nice to cuddle.”

“Hey, Lector’s not an asshole,” Sting protested, following Gray into the bedroom and flopping down on the bed. Lector, who had been sleeping on the pillow, reached out and batted at Sting. “You’re not helping your case,” Sting muttered, nudging him away. Lector quickly grappled Sting’s foot, kicking at it with both back feet until Sting grabbed him by the scruff and set him down on the floor.

“You were saying?” Gray said, laughing as Lector sauntered out of the bedroom. He tugged off his button-down shirt and tossed it in the laundry basket, then yawned and stretched, tipping his head from side to side and sighing.

“He’s not always an asshole,” Sting amended. He grabbed one of the pillows and pulled it close, pressing his face into it and sighing. It smelled like Natsu’s shampoo.

“You okay?” Gray asked, sitting down on the bed and reaching over to brush Sting’s hair out of his face. “You look like you need a hug.”

Sting hesitated, then nodded and let Gray move the pillow so he could lie down and pull Sting into his arms. Gentle fingers combed through Sting’s hair, and Gray pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Gray murmured. “How can I help?”

“It’s…” Sting hesitated, running his fingers over Gray’s necklace. “I dunno.”

“Did something happen?” Gray asked. Sting sighed, then closed his eyes and curled up closer, tucking his head under Gray’s chin.

“’s my mom’s birthday,” he said quietly. Gray was still for a second, then hugged Sting tightly, rubbing his thumb over the tense muscles in the back of Sting’s neck. He was quiet, and the silence was somehow more comforting than anything he could have said.

“I miss her,” Sting said after a minute. He exhaled quietly, matching his breathing to the quiet rise and fall of Gray’s chest. “I know it’s been almost twenty-five years now, but...”

“Grief doesn’t have a timeline,” Gray said gently, words vibrating in his chest under Sting’s fingertips.

“I know,” Sting said as Gray’s lips met his temple. “I just... sometimes I can’t really... I can’t...”

“Can’t what, love?” Gray asked, shifting back and running his thumb across Sting’s cheek. The tears that had been on the edge of falling all day were pooling in the corner of Sting’s eyes and he let out a shaky sigh.

“I can’t remember what she looks like,” he whispered, voice breaking on the last word. “I mean—I have pictures, and Oma does, and I can... I know what she looks like, but I can’t remember it.” He rubbed his face, trying to swallow back the tears. “It’s all just... I know she read to me, and we made cookies and all those things, but it’s all blurry and I can’t remember, and I feel so guilty.”

Gray slid his hand down Sting’s arm until their hands were clasped, then squeezed as Sting pressed his face into the crook of Gray’s neck. “I tried to talk to Oma today,” Sting added, voice muffled by Gray’s shirt. “We went out for lunch, but she kept changing the subject. I think it just makes her sad.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your mom?” Gray suggested. “What do you remember?” He shifted until he was lying on his back, and almost immediately Frosche jumped up onto the bed to curl up on his stomach. Lector and Happy weren’t far behind, and soon Sting and Gray were surrounded by the sound of contented purring.

“She loved to bake,” Sting said softly, running his fingers through Frosche’s fur. “Especially at Christmas. I liked to lick the beaters when she was making chocolate chip cookies.”

“Hm, sounds familiar,” Gray said. Sting laughed, thinking of Natsu sneaking into the kitchen to eat cookie dough while he baked. Gray ran his fingers through Sting’s hair, curling the ends of it around his fingers.

“I used to have long hair,” Sting said as Gray’s thumb brushed behind his ear. “Well, not like Rogue’s or anything, but longer than it is now. When I started kindergarten, Mom kept asking if I wanted to cut it, but I said no, because…” He trailed off, rubbing his face with the back of his hand.

“Because what?” Gray asked gently.

Sting smiled sadly. “I wanted to look like her.” Gray made a soft sound and ran a hand up Sting’s arm. “This is hers,” Sting added, reaching up and touching the earring he was wearing. He didn’t wear it often – dangly earrings were a hazard when working with small children – but today it had felt right. Gray tucked Sting’s hair behind his ear and ran his thumb over the bright diamond.

“It’s gorgeous,” he said. He looked at Sting’s other ear and frowned. “Where’s the other one?”

Sting sighed, looking up at the ceiling before whispering, “With her.” He could feel Gray start to apologize and he shook his head, grabbing Gray’s wrist and pressing a kiss to his palm. “She had so many earrings,” Sting said, closing his eyes and picturing quiet Saturday afternoons playing dress-up in his mom’s room. “A whole box of them, one of those cedar jewelry ones lined with red velvet. It was like a treasure chest.”

He went quiet for a moment, waiting out the quiet ache of grief that welled up in his chest. “Her and my dad were going on a date for their anniversary,” he said after a while. “She always let me help her get ready. I loved to stand in her closet under all the scarves and dresses and spin in circles; it was all so soft and sparkly. She even let me try on her shoes a few times.”

Gray didn’t say anything, just kept running his fingers through Sting’s hair. “I picked out her jewelry for her,” Sting said, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “I couldn’t decide between the diamond earrings and the green ones, so I gave her one of each and… she looked so pretty.”

Sting wiped at his eyes, sighing when Gray’s thumb brushed across his temple. “Is that when…” Gray trailed off uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Sting said, cuddling up against Gray again and shifting his leg across Gray’s thigh. Frosche meowed indignantly and flicked her tail, then moved closer to Sting until she was curled against his stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” Gray said, kissing Sting’s forehead again and holding him tight.

“I was so angry,” Sting said. He toyed with the button on Gray’s shirt, letting himself dip into the shallow end of the grief that had receded with time. “At them, at Oma and Opa, at myself. Oma says I cut off all my hair with craft scissors a few days after they died but I don’t remember it. I never grew it out again… this is the longest it’s been since then.”

Gray wrapped one of the blond curls around his finger and nudged Sting. “Are you growing it out now?” he asked. “I thought you just kept forgetting to book a haircut.”

“I did,” Sting admitted. “Well, I booked one a few weeks ago, but then Natsu went instead ‘cause he needed to dye his and I just… it got a little long in the back and…”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and flipping open his photos. After a second he found the picture he was looking for and held it up so Gray could see.

“Oh,” Gray said softly, staring down at the picture of a woman with soft blonde curls and bright blue eyes. She was sitting on a dock at the lake, head tipped back as she smiled into the sunset. “You look just like her.”

“Yeah,” Sting said around the mix of bittersweet feelings in his chest. “Everyone said that at their funeral, and it made me so sad and angry, but now…” He let himself smile as Frosche headbutted his chest.

“I think it’s a great way to remember her,” Gray said. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was.” Sting looked back down at his phone and flipped to the next picture. In it, he was three or four, sitting on his mom’s lap and holding a picture book as she read to him. “I wish you could have met her.” He swallowed around the sudden tightness in his throat as the tears returned. “She would have loved you. All of you. She loved everyone, and I just wish she could see how happy I am.”

“She would be so proud of you,” Gray said. “And all the things you’ve said about her – you’re describing yourself, too.” Heat rushed to Sting’s cheeks and he made a sound of protest, pressing his face against Gray’s shoulder. “You’re the kindest person I know,” Gray continued. “And when you talk about the way she loved you, I know exactly what you mean.”

Sting frowned, tipping his head back and gazing at Gray curiously.

“You love the same way,” Gray said, brushing Sting’s hair out of his face. “With your whole self. Unconditionally. Being loved by you is… it’s hard to explain.” He sighed. “Rogue could probably make more sense than me. But when you kiss me, or touch me, it’s like… you’re putting everything into it. You’re there, every time, loving all of me with everything you have.

“Maybe that’s how you remember her,” Gray said gently. “By loving like her. You might not remember what she looks like, but you remember how she loved you, and you love other people the same way.”

A muffled half-sob escaped from Sting and he sniffed, wiping away the tears that were streaking his cheeks. “I love you,” he whispered as Gray wrapped both arms around him and pulled him close.

“And I can feel it every day,” Gray murmured. “We all can. Your mom gave you the best parts of herself, and you give us the best parts of you.”

Sting relaxed completely against Gray, letting himself cry until he felt tired and wrung-out. When he finally pulled away and wiped at his face, the sky outside was dark. Sting heard the sound of the front door opening and all three cats immediately leaped down from the bed and ran to the door, meowing impatiently.

“We’re home!” Natsu called, and Sting could hear him and Rogue kicking off their boots and hanging up their jackets.

“Guess it’s supper time,” Sting said, voice hoarse. Gray helped him sit up, then wiped the tears on his cheeks away and leaned in to kiss him.

“Wanna bake cookies tonight?” he asked.

“Someone say something about cookies?” Natsu said, appearing in the bedroom doorway. “’cause I call dibs on licking the beaters.”

“You always call dibs,” Rogue said, nudging Natsu out of the way as he pulled off his dress shirt and tossed it onto the bed.

“That’s because I’m Sting’s favorite,” Natsu said, sticking his tongue out at Rogue and pushing him toward the bed. Rogue snapped his tie at Natsu, who yelped and ducked out of the way, hopping up behind Sting on the bed and wrapping both arms around his waist. “See, he’s gonna keep me safe.”

“You’re all my favorite,” Sting said, trying to keep his voice steady as he took Natsu’s hand and squeezed it. He looked back over at Gray with a small smile, then reached out and grabbed Rogue’s hand and pulled him onto the bed. “Do we have any plans tomorrow?”

All three of them looked at Gray, who had banned any of them from writing on the calendar after Natsu had used the wrong color marker and Gray had accidentally ended up at his physio appointment. Gray shook his head.

“What’d you have in mind, love?” Rogue asked.

Sting looked up at him. “Could we visit my parents?”

“At Ashland?” Rogue asked, expression softening. Sting nodded – the cemetery was a way out of the city, near the farm where he’d lived as a kid. “Of course,” Rogue said, touching Sting’s earring and giving him a sad smile. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sting said, leaning back against Gray with a happy sigh. When he closed his eyes, the image of his mom in his mind was still hazy, but it was filled with a gentle warmth that tempered the ache of loss.

If the best way to remember his mom was by loving, he was going to love the three of them with everything he had.

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #gratsustingue #ot4 #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #light angst #emotional hurt/comfort #grief #prompt #request #anon #my fic

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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years

Text

LOT fic: The Esteem of Cats (Coldwave)

For @oneiriad, who wanted more Len being a cat person, and also Egyptian gods.

Fic: The Esteem of Cats (AO3 Link) Fandom: Flash, DC's Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart

Summary: “Owners of dogs will have noticed that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they will think you are god. Whereas owners of cats are compelled to realize that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they draw the conclusion that they are gods.”

(Leonard Snart is a cat person - and the Egyptian cat goddess Bastet notices)

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

Len’s always liked cats. When they’re nice, they’re the friendliest creatures he’s ever met; when they’re not, they’re assholes, and he can respect that. He's an asshole too, the majority of the time. You just have to respect them and understand them as far as you can, and accept what you can’t understand, because they’re innately unknowable.

When he breaks into the rich man’s house in Nepal – the one in the city, where he brings guests he wants to charm, not the creepy lonely mountain path that he goes up on a regular basis and which Len’s instincts had told him not to follow – he finds a bunch of old antiquities, and a cat.

The cat is lounging, as cats do, around a statute of a cat-headed goddess. It’s a pretty statute: sand-colored stone and two pretty gems in the eyes, one green, one blue. It’s a pretty cat, too: slick gold fur, lightly spotted, and long tail swishing back and forth.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Len says, dropping down and offering his hand politely – he wouldn’t pet a strange cat without it indicating that it approved; he likes his hand in one place. “Hope you’re not a guard cat; I need this job to go off smooth, or the people behind it might hurt my partner.”

The cat, which had strange, mismatched eyes, one green and one almost human-blue, looks at him for a long moment, then finally inclines its head to the side and purrs.

Approval given, Len gives the cat a few long strokes, marveling at how soft she is, then he gets up and goes to collect the items he was told to get.

And a few extra, of course; it’s only fair.

“What do you think?” he asks the cat, gesturing between two equally ugly gold statutes. “Fat man with grapes or baby with a harp?”

The cat stretches long and lithe, and gets up lazily, wandering over. She studies the two statutes before placing a paw on the one with the harp.

“Harp it is,” Len says agreeably. He’s just going to sell them anyway. “That’s my baby sister’s skating instructor paid for,” he tells the cat, who purrs approvingly. “And this –” he plucks a crappy looking diamond necklace from a pile of similar looking ones, “– is what my partner’s going to use to make us dinner for the rest of the year.”

The cat huffs, and it sounds almost like a laugh.

“No, really!” Len protests, smiling a little. He liked talking on jobs; he keeps trying to break the habit, but he hasn’t quite gotten there yet. He usually has Mick there so he can pretend he's actually talking to someone who's listening, but honestly, Mick probably only actually bothers listening about as much as this cat is. “I eat like crap, my cooking’s worse, but he’s great. Anyone – anything – that eats his cooking, he likes. I’d offer you some, but, hey, he’s currently being held prisoner, which is the only reason I’m even doing this stupid job.”

The cat hums approvingly.

Len finishes collecting the items and bids the cat farewell, even though it follows him at least until the doorway, rubbing its head against some weird carvings against the frame there.

He doesn’t remember taking the cat-headed statute with him, but he finds it tucked into his pocket when he gets back to his hotel.

He considers selling it along with the rest of the extras he took, but he decides not to. It’s small, made of stone. The only thing worth anything are the gemstones, and they don’t look like emeralds or sapphires or anything all that. Besides, he likes the look of it, and he’s never really appreciated art for its own sake before.

So he keeps it.

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Mick always found it funny that Len never seems to notice the cats.

Oh, Len loves cats; it’s probably the most badly hidden fact about him. He’ll devote hours to petting them, figuring out where each cat likes it best and working his hands until they’re sore and the cat is a puddle of feline happiness, but never going overboard and pulling away as soon as the cat indicates they’re no longer in the mood. He respects them and he likes them and he has no idea about them.

Specifically, that there’s a positive battalion of cats that live in their safehouses.

Len seems content to just pet each cat that walks by, lets them curl through his feet, uses them as living paperweights for his blueprints. As far as Len’s concerned, they just wander in and out as they please, which is true.

Mick is the one who feeds them.

He sets out the litterboxes outside – the cats all behave quite well, which never ceases to surprise him, given that a good three-fourths of them are definitely wild – and he puts out the water for them and he makes sure they all have plenty of spare furniture to tear into. Most of all, though, he feeds them. He’s always liked it when his cooking is enjoyed, and the cats all line up like nobody’s business.

They love him very nearly as much as they love Len, he thinks.

Never as much as Len. Len is like catnip to them.

Mick estimates they own – and by own he means that he will put in the effort to take them to yearly check-ups at the vet, put their kittens in carriers when Len and him are moving because they’ll have trouble keeping up otherwise, and occasionally see that they get adopted with a nice family, as opposed to the truly wild ones that refuse the pleasure – as many as fifteen right now, not counting kittens.

Kittens never count.

Honestly, Mick’s not sure when they started showing up, but they did, and now he’s given them all nicknames and he will torch anyone who lays a finger on them the wrong way. He never thought of himself as an animal-lover before.

There’s one in particular that Mick likes: a sandy Egyptian Mau, female, adult though he’s not sure how old, gorgeous gold-bronze spotted fur and mismatched eyes. She’s got the bearing of a queen and the other cats fall over themselves to come over to purr at her. She’s the alpha cat of the house, no doubt about it.

She’s quite fond of Len – twines herself around his feet quite often, sometimes permitting him to lift her to his lap, often not – and she seems to be letting Mick grow on her. Lisa’s currently under probation due to an unfortunate ear-pulling incident that occurred when Lisa was still young, but Len gave Lisa a whole lecture and demonstration, and Lisa’s been doing much better now. Cat's still a bit suspicious of her, though.

Mick calls her Bastet, based on her fondness for the statute of the cat-headed goddess Len keeps carting around everywhere. They’ve got similar eyes.

“How is he so oblivious to all you cats?” he complains to her lightly, not really meaning it. She’s got a wise gaze; he sometimes almost feels like she understands him. Either way, she makes a great set of ears to whine to. “You think he’d know by now. Though given that he hasn’t noticed my thing for him yet, either, so I guess I don’t mind him being so dense…”

The cats end up surrounding them three days later, meowing frantically until the two of them notice there’s a spring of mistletoe that Mick totally didn’t put there in hope of winning a Christmas kiss from his Jewish partner.

Mick flushes. “Cats,” he says helplessly.

Len flushes a bit, too. “Can’t say I’d mind,” he says, averting his eyes.

Mick draws him in, and forgets about the cats.

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

Len doesn’t know how Mick kept the cats fed. He did feed them, right? Or did they just wander in?

He has no idea. He never paid attention; Mick as always the one who cooked.

Mick’s not here right now.

Mick’s –

Mick’s not going to be here ever again, because Len left him. Len’s a terrible partner, and no matter how cold he tells himself he has to be, how much he tries to ice over his heart and say no: I can’t put up with nearly losing him to the flames, not again, never again, I just can’t, it doesn’t work. He just can't convince himself of what he knows to be true, which is that he’s a terrible partner.

He’s a terrible cat-keeper, too.

Hell, how are there so many? Where did they even come from?!

“I’m sorry,” he says to the cats, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. I don’t – Mick’s gone, he’s in the hospital, I broke him out of the ambulance and got him to a clinic where they won't arrest him, but I’ve left him, so he's not coming back and he's not going to feed you and I swear I’ll do my best, but I just – I don’t know.”

The cats gather around him and purr forgivingly.

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do without him,” Len says.

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

When Mick wakes up in the crappy hospital clinic bed – really wakes up, not the half-consciousness that he’s been drifting in and out of recently – there’s a cat on his knee.

It’s Bastet.

She’s licking a paw delicately.

“I fucked this one up, didn’t I?” he asks, resigned. He doesn’t remember much after the fire – it was mostly pain – but he remembers Len breaking him out of that ambulance, getting him here, remembers Len telling him they were through with ice in his voice and tears in his eyes.

She purrs in agreement.

“He’s never going to come back,” Mick says, trying to make himself face up to it. No more Len. No more safehouses filled with cats that love him; no more Len petting five cats in a row without seeming to notice that they’d replaced each other; no more Len fast asleep on the couch with a half-dozen kittens using him as a bed; no more telling Len that he needs to eat as a good example for the cats; no more Len. “He’s gone. It’s my fault.”

Bastet lightly hops onto his belly, which makes Mick hiss; he’s still a bit tender, even with the painkillers.

She pads up and looks down at him.

“And there’s no reason for him to come back, anyway,” Mick continues. His attempts at steeling himself have shifted to self-pity, he knows it, but he can't seem to stop himself. He's gotten too used to spilling his guts to the cat. “The docs said it's third degree burns, most of 'em. Over a third of me, burned away; they say there’s probably be infections, and scarring, and I’ll probably never be able to move my arms right again. I’ll just be dead weight for him now. Don't see why he would come back, anyway, even if he was stupid enough to agree to.”

She stares into his eyes.

“You think he might forgive me, one day?” Mick asks hopelessly. “I don’t even care about the rest; that’s on me, my fire, my fault. I should’ve left sooner. But Len – do you think?”

She dips her head down and touches her nose to his.

He finds himself falling asleep again, a clean and easy sleep, sleep undisturbed by nightmares.

When he wakes up, Bastet is long gone, and the doctors tell him – not without a tone of some puzzlement – that he’s expected to make a full recovery. Scars a-plenty, sure, and some deadening of the nerve endings, but no impact on his mobility or strength, and no sign of any lingering disease.

Mick takes the win and gets out of there.

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

Len rubs under the cat’s chin, just the way she likes it.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a cat person,” Sara says.

“They’re usually assholes,” Len says. “I empathize with my people.”

She barks a laugh, surprised. “You own any?” she asks, nodding the lovely Egyptian Mau that Len is petting, the one eyeing Sara with a suspicious look.

“Nah,” Len says. “Cats don’t really let you own them. They wander in and out of our houses, sometimes.”

“You and Mick?” Sara asks.

“Yeah,” Len replies, shaking his head in fond memory. “You should’ve seen how much trouble we had getting them to understand that the cold and heat guns weren’t new cat toys we bought just for them.”

(or getting out of the bedroom long enough for him and Mick to reunite properly, as husbands long separated by their own stupidity ought to; now that had been an uphill battle – for some reason, the cats seemed to feel like they were entitled to be a part of the ongoing celebrations)

“I was always more of a dog person,” Sara says with a shrug, going to sit down on one of the chairs in the galley.

The cat curled in that chair hisses at her and she jumps right back up before she sits on him.

Len sniggers.

He can’t help it.

Sara gives him a dirty look, but apparently she can’t stay angry at a man with a kitten on his head – there are three in the hood of his parka, and a one brave one has managed to scale up his ears to cling tenuously to his skull with tiny little paws that barely prick the surface of his skin even when they dig in – and her look of annoyance fades.

“Gives you some character, the cats,” she says, nodding at them.

Len snorts. “By which you mean, you think if I pet cats I’m not as evil as I come off?” he drawls. “That’s Hollywood for you.”

“It’s the kittens,” she says with a shrug. “Girls are a sucker for kittens.”

“I don’t know if that’s true for everyone on board this ship. Don't hawks eat kittens?” he observes.

She laughs.

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

Rip has no idea how these cats got onto the Waverider. If only he could figure out when they were from, he could return them, but he doesn’t want to risk transmitting some sort of cat plague to the past or to the future.

Better to just let the crew think they came with the ship.

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

There’s a cat on his cot.

Kronos is pretty sure that’s against regulations.

He should probably mention it to someone, but, well, it’s a cat. It's hardly dangerous or any cause for worrying. He doesn’t want the other Bounty Hunters to think he’s gone nuts or something, complaining about a cat in his quarters; it’s probably one of the Time Masters’ pets gotten loose, and they'll be pissed off if he so much as twitches the wrong way in its directions and then he'll really be in for it. The Bounty Hunters are pretty low on the Time Masters' list of priorities.

Besides, the other Bounty Hunters are as consumed with unending rage as he is. Someone might hurt the cat, and Kronos –

Kronos would be annoyed by that.

He goes to let the servants – mechanical drones, mind-wiped humans – remove his armor and dismisses them, turning back to the cot.

Cat’s still there.

Pretty cat, actually. Spotted, gold, interesting eyes.

Pretty as a statute.

Len’s statute.

Kronos gasps as if he’s been punched in the stomach, his eyes sliding shut as the memories flood back in.

He’d forgotten.

How had he forgotten?

Len –

Len had left him.

For the fucking team of fucking heroes.

Rage lights up in his stomach, but not the general, formless, empty rage of the majority of the Bounty Hunters. Oh, no.

This rage is focused, laser-sharp, on his partner.

He's going to find him, Kronos is, and when he finds him, he's going to -

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

“Sorry, Bastet. I guess I’m kind of a bastard sometimes.”

Len blinks a little, frowning at the empty space in his arms where his partner ought to be.

His partner, who is currently talking to the cat sitting on the desk.

“Mick,” he groans into the pillow. “Stop talking to the cat and come back to bed.”

“I need to get the pills Gideon prescribed for you,” Mick says. “You’ll start feeling that face if I don’t.”

“It’s fine,” Len lies, even though his everything is starting to really hurt. He’s getting to old to be beaten as badly as that. His face is sore, his joints are stiff, his muscles all over are locking up and spasming…maybe he could do with some pills.

But he’ll go to hell twice over to get Mick back into his arms, and damnit, that’s what he wants right now, not pills.

Mick comes with pills anyway, and a nice warm washcloth, and that helps.

“I’m sorry,” Len says. It’s not the first time he’s said it; it’s been something of a refrain. He'd never say it in public, but he was always more touchy-feely after getting laid. He swallows the pills obediently.

“Tell your cats not to eat my liver when I’m asleep in payback,” Mick replies, carefully running the washcloth over Len’s bruises.

Len snorts and wraps his arms around Mick’s waist. “This one’s all mine, pretty,” he tells the cats. There’s the Egyptian Mau, of course; two tabbies and a black cat, and of course the speckled kittens that have been training themselves to climb things this last two weeks. “Leave him alone. I’ll make sure he’s appropriately punished.”

Mick snorts. “You’re a pushover.”

“I am not.”

“When it comes to cats, or me? What do you call it, then?”

“Good taste,” Len declares.

The cats purr approvingly.

Mick glances at them, then away.

“It’s disturbing,” he says. “The kittens are just two weeks older, and it’s been so much longer for me.”

“Trust the cats, not your brain,” Len says. He’s comfortable now, the pain starting to fade away again. And Mick’s here. He’s missed Mick. “Forget the rest.”

“You know, I think I’ll do that,” Mick says. “You sure you don’t want to go heal up the bruises?”

“I’m sure,” Len says firmly.

They’re the price he paid for Mick. He’ll wear them gladly.

The cat Mick called Bastet jumps onto the bed and curls around Len’s feet.

He thinks, in the moment before he falls asleep, that she approves of his decision.

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

Len is fast asleep on the big, warm pillow. He’s got the best spot in the whole place – right in the sunbeam – and he’s not moving for anything.

“My child,” a warm voice says.

Okay.

Maybe for Her.

Maybe.

Len cracks open an eye.

The woman’s skin is dark bronze, an inhuman gold so deep in color that it makes him think of rust and ancient coins, and splattered with freckles, which are the only thing that keeps her from looking like a statute come to life. Her clothing is white and her glittering necklace heavy around her neck; her eyes are mismatched, green and blue.

Len purrs for her.

“My child,” she says again. “I am here to take you home.”

Well, that’s certainly not going to happen. Does she know the pain in the ass it was to get here in the first place?

“Yes,” she says, amused. “I particularly enjoyed your attempt to debate with Ma’at regarding the weighing of your soul. Not to mention your attempts at arguing that Jews get a free pass since you are not technically subject to our religion...”

Hey, he made it in the end.

“Barely, my child.”

Doesn’t count how close the lion’s jaws are to closing on your tail, as long as he catches nothing but fluff in his teeth.

She laughs. Her teeth are white.

“My child, my beloved child,” she says. “You do not need to go home. You can stay here forever.”

Contrary in the way of all of his kind, that’s what gets Len to get up onto his paw and flick his tail at her, asking for more details.

“Mick needs you,” she says.

Mick!

Of course Mick needs him.

…couldn’t Mick come here, where it’s warm and comfortable? Len would totally share his pillow, if it was with Mick. Even the catnip. (Catnip is amazing.)

“He is hastening his own journey,” she says. “His heart is broken, and does not heal. If you do not come home now, he will be here soon – far, far too soon.”

Len’s not going to let that happen. Not on his watch, not to his Mick, no sir.

“I thought you’d see it that way,” she says, amused, and gathers him into her arms.

“Be glad,” she advises him. “Very few get second chances like this. Use it well!”

Len purrs.

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

“I have no idea where your catgirl statute went,” Mick says apologetically. “It’s like one day it was there, and the next day it wasn’t.”

“It’s fine,” Len assures him. “I ain’t angry or nothing. It’s just a statute. And it wasn't a catgirl! It just, you know, had a cat head.”

“Yeah, but it was your favorite –”

“You’re my favorite,” Len says, just because it makes Mick flush with pleasure if Len says anything even remotely favorable about him, and also because it makes Mick come over and kiss him, and that’s where Len wants him to be right now. “Relax about the statute, Mick. We still have all the cats, don’t we? Surely that’s enough.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Mick says, laughing. “But Len –”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe next time, share the catnip with the cats?”

“Gimme a break,” Len protests. “It smelled really good!”

“Len…”

“Don’t you ‘Len’ me.”

“Let the cats have their catnip.”

“I was never good at sharing.”

“If we put the catnip outside, the cats will all go there, and we’ll have the bedroom to ourselves.”

“On the other hand, I can be convinced…”

#my fic #dccoldwave #leonard snart #mick rory #bastet #cats #Egyptian goddess

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nobodiesheartlessshitblog45 · 6 years

Conversation

Luka was sitting in his drawing a pencil drawing for Brian of his Garden, as he was working on the tiny details his vision started to go blurry.

Luka: (sighs opens the desk drawer) Hm? (rummages is around again looking for glasses case) Amanda! (walks upstairs to Amanda's room, or blaring music can be hard from behind the door) A-Amanda! Amanda. (pounds on the door) Kid, turn the music down and get your butt out here for a moment.

Amanda: (turn the music down a little bit, opens the door) What's up Pops?

Amanda: Sorry if I'm bothering you, but do you know my glasses went?

Amanda: Dad, seriously?! (rolls her eyes) This is like the third time you lost'em.

Luka: Yeah, I know. (Grins sheepishly) Anyway, do you know where they are?

Amanda: (sighs) On the Coffee in the living room.

Luka: (kisses on the head) Thank you, darling daughter of mine. You are the best. (walking back down stairs)

Amanda: Once I leave for College you're pretty much on if you lose your glasses again.

Luka: Yep, I know.

Later

Robert's text: *Luka. Luka, let's go out to night. Pick up your phone. I'll keep randomly text you shit*

Luka: (looks at his phone, and picks up, and starts texting back) *maybe, but gotta finish this Commission for Brain before next week*

(waits for Robert to text)

Robert's text: Booooooo! You suck. JK ;) okay. Mind if I bring Betsy over? She's a little crazy.

Luka's text: *not at all. Amanda and Kodama will be happy.*

Robert's text: *fuck yeah*

It didn't take long for Robert to come over, Kodama was lying on floor when she heard the door open, she lifted up head, and Betsy came running barking like crazy. Kodama's tail was wagging, and jumped up.

Robert walked in, was greeted by Ponyo who rubbing up against Robert's leg.

Robert: (smiles) Hey, Ponyo, (Knelt down and stop scratching the cat's head)

Luka: (comes walking into the living room, as Betsy runs up to him) Hi, girl~. (pat on the head) Robert?

Robert: Yep, right he--- ... O/////O (stops dead sees Luka wearing a pair of glasses)

Luka: ... (looks behind him) What?

Robert: Holy shit, I'm so hot for you right now.

Amanda: (walking downstairs and stops) OH. MY. GOD! Gross!

Daaaaaad, Robert, seriously I'm right here!

Luka: (put his hands over his face, blushing like crazy) !!

Robert: Oh... Sorry. Pretend this never happened.

Amanda: Already repressing the memory.

Luka: Me too. Anyway, anyone want a coffee?

Amanda: Nope. Going to hang out with Emma.

Luka: Emma K or Emma Z?

Amanda: Emma Z. Emma K is the mean one.

Luka: Oh. Well have fun, text me if you're staying over there house. Got it?

Amanda: Roger, Pops. Bye Robert.

Robert: See ya, Honey.

Amanda walks out the door leaving Robert and Luka alone together.

Luka: Soooo (adjust his glasses) How's your Day going, Robert?

Robert: ... I can't believe how hot you look in those glasses. (pulls Luka to him) Why don't we go upstairs and have a little fun~? (gives devilish smile)

Luka: Well, I kinda like that idea~.

The two started to kiss when the door flew open.

Mary: That bitch ass Joseph. Holy shit, if murder wasn't illegal he be 6 feet under by now and out of my hair. Mr. motherfucking Mr. perfect Asshole. (sees Luka and Robert kissing in the living room) Ugh, get a room!

Luka: (stops kiss Robert and looks at Mary) Well, it's my House.

Mary: Damien wasn't home, so I'm here. Deal with it, Luka. God damn I need a drink.

Luka: You want to coffee?

Mary: Yes please. And where is your cat? I need a hug something.

Robert: I was having a romantic moment with my boyfriend, Woman.

Mary: Have a romantic moment on your own time, Small. I'm pissed and need a something to hug.

Ponyo walks over to Mary meowing and rubbing Up against her leg.

Mary: Awww, you're such a sweetie~. (picks him up hugs and tightly) Let's go relax, Ponyo. Such a good kitty.

Luka: I will make you a coffee, gorgeous. (walks away from Robert)

Robert: But... (frowns and looks at Mary) I was... having romantic moment with my boyfriend, Mary.

Mary: Yeah yeah. Be a dear get me a some wine.

Robert: Luka doesn't keep alcohol in the house.

Mary: I know, but you do. (Gives him a sweet smile)

Robert: ... Fine. Only because you're my best friend.

Mary: Good boy. (scratches under Ponyo's)

Robert: ... Are you talking to me or the cat?

Mary: Robert, wine please.

Robert grumbles as he walks out of the house.

Luka: (walks back with Hot cup of coffee) Where did Robert go.

Mary: To get me a bottle of wine, should be back in a few. (smiles of the dogs looking at the greet her) I'm sorry if interrupted you two. Just need to get away from Joseph.

Luka: What happened now?

Mary: He's annoying. That's it.

Luka nodded understanding that Mary didn't want talk about it, just then Robert came back with a bottle of wine.

Robert: Here (hands it to her)

Mary: (takes opens the bottom and pores thevwine into the coffee)

Luka: ... ... ...

Robert: (rolls eyes)

Mary: (takes a sip of her coffee and her wine) Ahhh... refreshing. (reaches of the tv remote and turns the tv ans lays down on the couch)

Luka: Soooo, yeah I'll ... be in

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