#fluffyjulyday10

@fluffyjuly

A short and sweet prompt fill for the following:

A prompt fill for Fluffy July 2026 for the following:

Day 10 - Eating pancakes | “I adore your hands.”

Alternate - Midnight snack

Fandom: Dragon Age Relationship: Male Amell/Zevran Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship Words: 200

For @fluffyjuly Day 2 - Candlelight and Day 10 - "I adore your hands."

Read on AO3

It was late. Declan knew he should just finish this document and go to bed, but he had gotten distracted by the way his hands looked, the candlelight highlighting every scar and imperfection.

It was strange.

Declan was not a self-conscious man, but now, he couldn’t stop looking at them.

They were not a noble’s hands, or a mage’s hands even, they showed that he liked working with them, liked fighting with them, calloused, scarred, and often blood-stained.

Lost in thought as he was, he didn’t notice Zevran getting up from the bed until his lover wrapped his arm around his shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to his neck.

“Does it bother you?” He turned his hand over for emphasise, showing off the roughness and the scar running down his palm.

“What?” Zevran reached out and took Declan’s hand in both of his, the difference in size making Declan even more nervous.

“Amore, I adore your hands. Big and strong.” He kissed Declan’s neck again.

“Kind, like you.” Quieter, but Declan heard it.

(written for @fluffyjuly day nine: found family & day ten: ruffling hair)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Word Count: 3610

Posted on AO3!

--

“Hey, kid.” Lenny greets, as Casey walks into the armory and drops his weapons off with a sigh. It’s a taser-gun, relatively new, and pretty deadly, the Genius Built symbol glinting purple in the light. “How was patrol?”

“Irritating.” Casey answers honestly, stretching his shoulder joint and hearing a ‘pop’. “I got caught in a feeding hunt. Had to take down a few dogs. Nothing crazy, though.”

“Right.” Lenny drawls, as he takes the gun. Casey watches him weigh it in his hands, and he raises an eyebrow before he goes to put it away.

“Both cartridges empty.” He calls from the storage. “And a nice, long cut on your arm. Not to mention the limp in your walk. But sure, it was ‘nothing crazy’.”

Casey scowls, trying to keep his arm out of sight and stand equally on both feet. “It really wasn’t crazy. I just rolled my ankle on some rocks like a dummy.”

“Hmm. Sure. On a completely unrelated note, you know I have a direct link to your sensei, right?”

He tenses, his eyes darting away. “...I know that.”

“Good.” Lenny answers. “Then you know I can tell him you haven’t gone to medical since you came back.”

“I don’t need medical!” Casey protests. 

It’s too loud to be convincing. Lenny’s gaze ticks to him, unimpressed. “There’s blood on your scarf.”

“That’s, uh. Crayon ink.”

He raises his brow higher. “Have you ever even seen a crayon?”

“Yeah. Of course I have.”

“Then you should know crayons don’t need ink.” Lenny looks more and more done with this conversation. “Jones. Medical. Or I’m telling on you.”

Casey opens his mouth, to try to tell him that no, he really doesn't need anything, he is a-okay, but stops himself. He was never going to be able to out-stubborn Lenny. And Uncle Tello has eyes in every important room on the base. The last thing he needs is to get caught arguing in the armory and then be caught hurt-not-hurt. 

“Fine, fine.” He groans, turning away. “Medical it is.”

“And I’ll be checking on you!” Lenny yells behind him as he leaves. “Don’t try me!”

Casey keeps his irritated growl to himself.

He tries to wipe the blood off the arm before he gets to the med ward, because it isn’t that big of a deal, really, it’s just a long cut that’ll take like, a day to heal at most. He thinks he does a decent job of it when he gets there, immediately overcome with the noise and the scent of antiseptic. 

He moves to stand in an unassuming corner, simply watching the controlled chaos. Most of the beds are taken by humans and yokai of various shapes and sizes, bandages on their various injuries. Dr. O’Neil is in the back, a stethoscope slung around her neck and a tablet in her hand, ordering around her nurses this way and that, looking like the commander of her own domain. 

Casey briefly wonders if he can make an escape, since he really doesn’t want to add on to their work, when she catches his eye. 

Immediately, her face changes into something much more friendly and kind, her eyes getting tinier from the force of her smile. Going from being Dr. O’Neil to being Grams. 

“Is that Mr. Jones Junior I see?” She asks out loud, and a few heads turn his way. Casey ducks his head, caught.

“Hi, Grams.” He walks up to her to immediately get trapped into a tight hug. A tension he didn’t know he was holding in his shoulders seeps out. “What’re you up to?”

“Making sure everyone’s alive.” Grams snorts, running a hand through his hair. “How was patrol?”

Casey doesn’t even blink at the question. Grams doesn’t have access to the patrol schedule, but somehow she’s always aware of when he goes out. “It was okay. Not too terrible, I promise.”

She lets him go, and looks him up and down with a critical eye. He tries to be casual about hiding his arm, but ultimately fails, when Grams just holds a hand out for him, an eyebrow raised. 

“Ugh. And I also got a little scratch.” He admits, showing her his arm. Which, fuck, is bleeding again. Great, just great.  

She purses her lips. “This is not a little scratch, Jones Junior. This is a deep laceration. And the fact that you’ve been back for at least fifteen minutes and it’s still bleeding, means…?”

“Means that I have to get stitches.” Casey mutters. 

“Exactly. Which also means that you should not have tried to hide it from me.” Grams pulls him, gently, towards one of the empty beds, forcing him to sit down. Casey tries not to look at the person directly behind him, with their leg in a cast and half their face wrapped up. 

“Sorry.” He offers, and does his level best to not wince as the wound is cleaned. He doesn’t even cry when the stitches are placed, keeping his eyes on the nurses. 

The door to the ward opens, and in strides the Sergeant, her hair pinned back tightly and a set of sterilized tools in her hands. She catches sight of him and grins, teeth glinting white.

“Casey!” Auntie Sunita greets, before her eyes tick towards his injury. “Oh. Yikes. Bad day out?”

“Not too shabby.” Grams answers for him. “Didn’t even need more than five stitches.”

“Nice!” She says happily, dropping off the tools and joining them. She presses her lips to her hand and smacks him on the head with it. He smiles. “Hey, you’ll have an awesome scar now.”

“Oh, yeah! I’ll match with my Uncle.”

“Donnie would probably have a heart attack if he saw a single graze on you.” Grams snorts, and finally wraps his wound up. And plops a kiss on top of the bandage like he’s five-years-old. 

“Grams.” He whines, embarrassed. 

“Hey, that’s how the bacteria stays away from your insides!” Grams teases. “That, and hydrogen peroxide.”

“It’s like a good luck charm, too.” Auntie Nita nods sagely. “Them’s the rules, kid. Don’t argue with your grandma.”

The doors slam open again, and someone from the other patrol party emerges, half-carried by his friend, looking just slightly delirious from pain. 

“Oh, damn, another concussion.” Grams mutters, and Casey can watch the shift back to Dr. O’Neil happen in her eyes. “Alright, then, Junior. Time to scram. Sergeant, with me.”

“On it, Major.”

Casey weaves through the crowd quietly, waving a gentle goodbye to some of the younger kids huddled together, and leaves. 

The stitches pull at his injury, and he tries not to itch at it through the bandage. Ugh. It’d been his turn at the washing stations tonight before bed, and it’s going to be a nightmare. He hates trying to clean around a wound. 

He heads downstairs, towards the bunks, because stupid mission reports don’t file themselves.

“Boo!”

Casey screams. 

He whips around, one hand on his hockey stick, crouched into a defensive position, when he realizes what the hell he’s seeing. 

It’s Uncle Angie, floating upside down, with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

Casey groans aloud, as Angie cackles, his entire body turning in the air with the force of it. 

“Oh my Spirits, your face —”

“Angie, that was not funny!”

“That was so funny! I hope to Pizza Supreme Donnie recorded that.”

Casey lets his head fall into his hands, trying to hide his smile. “God, I hope no one heard me.”

“Everyone heard you.” He hears the wry voice behind him, and sees Auntie Apes walk out from the Hamato family room. She has her locs collected into a ponytail, and she’s wearing her civvies. She leans against the doorway, shaking her head at him. “I’m sure even the dogs up there heard you.”

“Yep. We're gonna find out this area is suddenly red-lit, and it’s all because of me scaring CJ.”

“Damn, Mikes, I always knew you would be the end of us.”

Casey huffs as they joke back and forth, going inside. He changes out of his armor, putting on some shorts and a giant blue hoodie. There’s a tear on the cuff, but he pays it no mind. The sooner he gets the worst part of his day over with, the better.

He pulls out his tablet, sitting criss-crossed on his mattress, and starts the paperwork. 

“Wow, how the heck do you have the patience to do reports in silence? ” Angie groans, paddling in the air to float directly above Casey, strands of gray hair hanging down. “That’s so boring.”

“I like to do my reports with some Beyonce playing in the background.” Apes pipes up. “Same way I used to do homework, back in my day.”

“Eugh. Homework.” Angie physically recoils, wrapping his cloak around himself like it would protect him. “Horrifying. Hey, did we ever tell you what homework was, Ceej?”

“Uh.” Casey says distractedly, wondering if a half-Krangified cat he’d encountered near the Midtown area counted as a ‘witness to an accident’. “Oh, yeah. Mom used to say it was like a—medieval torture device.”

Apes snorts. “No one’s more right than Cassandra Jones.”

“Amen.”

Casey’s lip quirks up. 

They stay in the room for a while, Casey flitting between finishing his paperwork and watching Angie make Apes float so they could dance to Beyonce’s Single Ladies in the air. It takes him twice as long, mostly because he keeps accidentally mixing up his report with song lyrics. 

“See, now, why aren’t we like him?” He hears Apes say, when he’s finally at the part where he has to promise that he did his work all by himself, no proxy utilized. “Why don’t we do our paperwork immediately after we come from a mission?”

Angie sighs, quietly, and Casey tries not to look over at the thread of wistfulness he can pick out through the breath. 

“Well,” Angie answers, “Casey Jones Junior has always been the best of us.”

He swallows, his throat suddenly dry. Apes hums in response. “That’s very true. Y’know how I know that?” 

From his periphery, he sees her poke a finger into Angie’s cheek, who giggles softly. “It’s ‘cause he has your smile.”

“Heh. You think so?”

“Of course. Don’t you remember when Casey adopted him? She was pissed that he looked more like you and Raph than her.”

“Oh, I remember that! And then we had an arm wrestling competition to see who he was going to be named after.” Angie tsks. “Still can’t believe she won.”

“He could have been named Raphael Junior. Or maybe Michelangelo Junior.”

“Yikes. Yeah, no, it’s better she won.”

Casey takes a deep breath, stretching his neck, letting them know he was done working. He shoots them a tired smile. “Time for dinner?”

Apes blinks blankly at him for a second, and Angie rolls his eyes. “Yes, thank you, CJ, for actually reminding some people that they need to eat.”

Apes rolls her eyes but concedes, standing up and putting her locs into a bun. “Yeah, fair. I was fully going to go into a meeting.”

“We know.” Angie and Casey intone together, and chuckle. 

The mess hall is crowded when they get there, loud and bustling, the sounds of laughter and jokes drifting in the air. It looks like nearly everyone, including the night-shift workers, showed up tonight.

“Wow.” Apes says, eyebrows raised. “What’re they making?”

On a giant banner, just above the serving station, are the words ‘Apocalypse Cake! First Come, First Serve!’

“Cake?” Casey reads, surprised. He tries to think back to all his old storybooks, wondering what on earth it was made of. “Don’t you need, like, that brown stuff? Brown chalk or whatever it was called.”

“I think you might be referring to chocolate.” Angie huffs, nudging him towards an empty table. “And—dang it. Now I miss chocolate.”

“It’s okay, Mikes, I think it would just spike your blood sugar now.” Auntie Apes jokes, and Angie gently swats at her with a tiny mystically conjured chain.

“Shouldn’t we go up there?” Casey asks. “They’ll run out.”

Uncle Angie winks at him. “Well, when you have an in with the kitchen, no, they won’t.”

“Ah, Michelangelo,” they hear a voice drone behind them, “you always were such a deviant. I’m so proud of you.”

Casey turns, and sees Uncle Tello step to their table with a small smile, looking away from the four purple holograms floating near him. He grins.

“Uncle Tello!” He gets up and immediately wraps his arms around him, fingers fisting in the yellow Cuddle Cakes crewneck. 

“CJ-squared.” Tello greets him, affectionately rubbing his back. “I saw you had to go to medical today.”

“Ugh. You were spying on me?”

“I spy on everybody. That’s my job. How else would I know that you guys had a dance party without me?”

“Yeah, we did. Your jammy-jams were sorely missed.”

“Sassy.” Tello notes. “You’re getting very sassy. I don’t know if I like it or not.”

Another three-fingered hand comes to Casey’s head to ruffle his hair. It’s a different, bigger one. A hand he’d recognize anywhere.

“Oh, c’mon, Don-Tron.” a familiar voice teases. “Give someone else the chance to be the ‘Sassiest of Them All’.”

Casey glimpses up, and sees the well-known twist of Sensei’s grin looking down at him, and wastes no time in hooking an arm around his waist and bringing him into the hug. 

Sensei snorts out of surprise, and then squeezes Tello and him hard enough for both to squeak. “Group hug! I love group hugs.”

Tello sighs, exasperated, muttering mild insults under his breath which he responds to in kind. Casey smiles into Sensei’s dark blue shawl. And yet, no one lets go.

“I’m finally off, please tell me dinner is served—oh. Aww. See, I always knew the General was an utter softie.”

Casey extricates himself, surprisingly blinking some wetness away from his eyes as he chuckles. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he got his personal favorite kind of twin hug. He missed it.

Lenny tilts his head at him knowingly, but says nothing. Instead he smirks, eyes darting to Sensei. “You greet all your students like that?”

Sensei rolls his eyes at him. “My favorite ones, sure. And I’d like to remind you, oh Loathsome Leonard, that you always hide an extra taser gun away from the main store, completely off the books, just to save it for Casey.”

Lenny clears his throat, looking away suspiciously, while Casey’s jaw drops. 

“Are you kidding me?” He exclaims, feeling both shy and also a little indignant. 

“Oh, Len’s like a total softie.” Angie drawls. “Remember when he gave up his favorite pair of gloves to CJ when he lost his?”

“That was your favorite?” Casey gapes at Lenny. “You told me you hated those!”

“Shut up. All of you.” Lenny grouses, sitting down and completely ignoring Casey’s scoff. He shoots a glare at Sensei. “If you tell anyone—”

“That you love Casey Junior?” Sensei snorts. “I think it’s a little too late for that.”

Lenny rolls his eyes hard enough to probably see the inside of his brain. Despite his indignation, Casey tries not to grin cheekily. 

“Oh, good, you’re all actually here for once.” Grams’ voice says above their heads, and he feels nails raking through his hair. “Jones Junior, you desperately need a haircut.”

“Why?” Lenny grunts out, messing with the bandana holding his own long hair together. “He looks fine.”

“No, he doesn’t. And neither do you. You’re both getting a haircut first thing in the A.M. Major’s orders.”

Casey and Lenny start to complain loudly in the exact same petulant tone, which makes them pause as the table erupts into laughter. Lenny’s smirk gets a tad warmer.

A smell wafts around the mess hall just then, something nutty yet caramelized, and nearly everyone’s heads whips towards the source. 

Danny storms out of the kitchen, cutting through the long line of people waiting to be served, coming straight towards them with a tray. He’s still wearing his stained apron and mitts, and when he places the dish on the table, he nearly collapses into his seat, head in his folded arms. 

“I. Am. So fucking tired.” He groans. “Who’s bright idea was this shit?”

“Hey.” Grams says sternly. “Language, Daniel.”

Danny looks up, exhaustion mixed with faint irritation in his eyes. “Carol. Trust me, I love you, but I’m going to curse however much I fucking want right now. I’ve spent three days getting the tannins out of thousands of acorns, and then grinding all of them until they were finer than talcum powder. I can’t even feel my arms anymore.”

Lenny pats his back commiseratingly, as Casey leans towards the tray. There are nine pieces of a really thick, dark brown cake, slightly burnt crust at the top. The caramelized smell comes stronger now, and it’s something he can only barely recognize, making his mouth water. 

Uncle Tello blinks at the dish, seemingly stunned as he dismisses all his projections. “Is that… honey?”

Danny incoherently mumbles an agreement. 

“Honey?” Auntie Apes asks, shocked. “Where on earth did you get honey from?”

Danny doesn’t answer, almost halfway asleep. Lenny shrugs. 

“The new refugees got it for us.” A sweet voice pipes up, and they turn to see Aunt Sunita hurry towards them with a smile, her cloaking broach on her civilian jacket. “Sorry, I’m late. But yeah, it was the group that came in from Maine. One of the grandmothers had a jar saved up. She let us use all of it today.”

“Holy shit.” Angie whispers, and Casey spies a light in his eyes he hasn’t seen in a very long time. “Guys. We’re feasting tonight.”

“God.” Sensei shakes his head in wonder, as everyone grabs their designated slices. Lenny twists Danny’s ear until he wakes back up and takes his own with a scowl. “I haven’t had honey since…”

The sentence hangs, and the moment around the table sours, just a little. Solidifying into something Casey’s all-too familiar with. 

Sensei shuts his eyes. “Since the last time we all had tea.”

“I remember that.” Grams says quietly, studying her piece. For a second, she looks older than usual. “It was the night we’d found this cave.”

Danny nods, solemn, tapping at the table absentmindedly. “Yeah. Just after the Hidden City finally collapsed. We’d all carried whatever supplies we could, and… Master Splinter, he brought his tea.”

A melancholy smile grows on Tello’s face, as he swallows. “It was sakura tea. Japanese cherry blossoms. He lit a fire, and asked me to make a pot and some cups with my ninpo. And when it was done, he put the last bit of honey we had in each cup. Well, he put the most in mine.” He adds with a chuckle. “I hated the taste so much, I literally could not drink it without honey.”

Sensei takes a breath, and lets it out slowly. “I remember he gave us this speech. About how sakura tea represents resilience in times of uncertainty. It wasn’t even a metaphor—the tea was made out of blossoms preserved through many, many years.”

Sensei’s arm comes up and around Casey’s shoulder, as he continues, “He told us it was a lesson we should learn, before we start building this base. That hope persists, like the wind under every floating pink petal. It can ebb and flow, but it’s never truly gone. He wanted our hope to fuel our resilience.”

He squeezes Casey’s shoulders, and he glances up. His sensei is smiling at him, and, damn, his heart leaps at the pride on his face. He hopes to the Spirits he’s not imagining it. Making his family proud is all he’s ever wanted.

“And so, now, I guess it’s my turn.” Sensei raises his piece of cake, and so does everyone else. 

“A toast. To every single person at this table. You are some of the kindest and bravest people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. And the privilege of loving.” Sensei says. 

There’s a small waver in his voice, and Casey reaches and squeezes the hand on his shoulder tightly. 

“You have shown immeasurably loyalty, not only to our cause, but also to this family. You are the reason the Hamato legacy lives on. So, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for everything you are, and everything you’ve done. And I hope to all the Spirits above that your stomachs can digest the atrocity we are about to eat."

The table breaks out into a bark of surprise laughter. Grams shakes her head, her fingers intertwined with her daughter’s. Angie pats at the corner of his eyes with his cloak, and stands up to affectionately bonk his head with Sensei’s. Tello meets his twin’s eyes, and something deep and unspoken passes between them, before he hooks his ankle under the table with his. Auntie Nita twists and rests her legs on Lenny’s lap, while Danny leans onto his shoulder, both giggling at the fake irate look on Lenny's face. 

Casey just watches all of them, happy. And something in him tells him to memorize this instant forever, to brand the curves of their smiles and the lilts of their voices onto the walls of his brain. It’s that strange feeling he gets sometimes, that tells him a moment is beautiful and fleeting and rare while he’s living it. 

He breathes, and takes a bite of his cake. It’s gritty and earthy, but just sweet enough.

He listens to that feeling, and memorizes it all.

-

Vash perked up when he heard the front door open and slam shut again. Only one person was ever that aggressive with the only home they had. He smiled to himself at the mere thought of the other man.

"You here, Spikey?"

Vash set down the book he'd been reading and quickly rolled out of bed. He landed on the ground with an undignified thud but scrambled to his feet to meet up with his roommate slash partner slash whatever the hell they wanted to be on this particular day.

He hurried through the apartment until he reached the kitchen. Vash skidded to a halt when he caught sight of the dark-haired man and grinned.

"There you are." Nicholas huffed with a grin of his own. "Dinner is served."

Vash lit up the moment he noticed the square box in the other man's hand as he set it onto the table. "Pizza!"

"You betcha. Have a seat." Nicholas replied.

As if that wasn't enough for Vash to be over the moon he noticed the logo on the box before his companion opened it. Vash was mostly thinking out loud when he said, "Oh, wow, you went to that really awesome place way across town. Wasn't it out of the way?"

Nicholas shrugged and said, "I was in the area."

"Yeah?" Vash hummed. He couldn't argue with that, he supposed. His gaze shifted to another box on the counter behind the dark-haired man. He gasped much louder than intended and slapped both hands onto his own face. The metal one stung just a bit.

"Are those donuts from-!" Vash couldn't even finish the thought as his brain tried to comprehend the situation.

The bakery in question was his all-time favorite, hands down. He probably talked about it in his sleep he was so obsessed. He'd know the color scheme and design of their boxes anywhere. Not only that, he also knew that bakery was even further away than the pizzeria.

"Quit overthinking every little thing and eat," Nicholas grumbled as he slid the donut box out of view.

Vash shook his head then grabbed three slices of pizza out of the box and set them onto his own plate. The guy was right. If he focused on the main dish he could finish faster and get to the dessert!

He downed his first slice and was onto the next when he heard the familiar sound of a beer being cracked open. He watched Nicholas set it down in front of him before he opened and other and took a swig. Vash chewed the heaping bite of pizza in his mouth slowly as he eyed the sweating bottle.

He swallowed the food then said softly, "You got my favorite brand of beer instead of your usual one."

"It was just what was on sale," Nicholas blew him off as he waved a dismissive hand in his direction.

It felt like there was a puzzle to solve here. Vash did his best to put all the pieces together while he ate another slice of pizza. No matter how he thought about it they fit to make one picture.

Vash tilted his head at his companion and asked, "Is this a date?"

Nicholas choked on his drink then shouted, "Hah? No!"

"You're blushing!" Vash yelled right back. He was caught up in the excitement of the moment now.

"No I'm not!" Nicholas hissed in that very obvious way of his. He knew it was a lie but he refused to admit it.

Vash's own cheeks began to burn as he laughed softly to himself. This was a lovely surprise. He picked up his beer and held it out across the table then waited.

Nicholas cleared his throat, which did nothing about the dark blush in his cheeks, then clinked his can against the blond's. The two of them maintained eye contact as they downed the rest of their beers.

For Day 10 of @fluffyjuly, ten behind, I've got work to do but hope you're all enjoying the change from whump

Kitten cat, Vampire cat. - set after Hayley/Jackson wedding

---

Jackson's not sure what led to this, he was minding his business, reading a book he had found on the history of the city and surrounding areas, mostly to see if he spotted any familiar names when a sudden weight settled on his lap and he looked down to find Elijah sprawled over the couch with his head on his thigh.

“Excuse me?” He had called only to get a flick of an ear, a slow blink from half lidded eyes before Elijah had seemingly gone to sleep.

He had been warned of Elijah Mikaelson’s change, the spell one of his revived Witch brothers had cast on him leaving him half cat and it had taken seeing the man to believe it; impeccable suit, styled hair, and a pair of fluffy ears and tail the same colour of his hair making it very real, but he had assumed that would be the last of it. 

Cats had avoided him long before he triggered his curse, something in them able to sense the predator in him he expected Elijah to follow suit.

Apparently not.

Jackson will forever blame Elijah for what followed, or rather his ears. As Jackson caught movement out of the corner of his eye while he tried to continue his reading, moved his hand to cover it and found himself touching soft fur.

Which led to running his hand over the soft fur to hair and before he knew it, he was running his fingers though the original’s hair freeing it from whatever style gel the man used as his thumb rubbed the fur of the ear.

It then took him several moments too long to realise what was the cause of the sudden odd low sound that filled the noise before he had even thought of removing his hand.

Purring.

The Original vampire, the man Jackson had been forced to accept his wife was in love with, Elijah Mikaelson was purring while asleep in his lap. Jackson sat still, the man’s name frozen in his throat, if he woke him it would be awkward.

Then again it was going to be awkward either way so he tried once again to return to the book, leaving his hand.

He’d pretend nothing was wrong and hopefully once Elijah woke he would too. 

That plan was completely thrown out when another joined them.

“Oh.” a voice softly called from behind him and he twisted knowing who he’d see.

Hayley stood in the doorway looking from him to the mirror that sat on the wall opposite which Jackson had completely forgotten about but from Hayley’s place showed Elijah asleep in his lap with his hand in the other’s hand.

It wasn’t like she could miss the purring he reminded himself most those living in the house had supernatural hearing.

“Hay-” he started before the words died, could he explain this, really, how and why was this his life, who knew being cursed to spending most of the month as a wolf could be outdone?

“We told him ignoring the others' instinct would have them overwhelming him.” she muttered.

“What?” he blinked, Elijah had known this was a danger- wait no, Elijah Mikaelson deciding a random lap was a comfy pillow was a consequence of the spell? 

“Cats sleep more than humans yet since he’s returned here Elijah’s been trying to only sleep what he had as a vampire alone, apparently the cat’s decided you're comfortable and safe enough to sleep around.” she explained before moving a hand to cover her moth and smoother a laugh.

“What? “ he repeated, although he was aware of the cause of it, the heat in his cheeks.

“Your blushing,” Hayley smirked.

“No I'm not!” He whispered, trying not to disturb the purring vampire on his lap, he's pretty sure that was a thing with cats, don't disturb or something.  “Wait, you're jealous.” He realised as he recognised the look in her eyes.

“No, I'm not.” She denied, but he caught the guilt in her expression. 

He found himself without the anger or jealousy as thought he would, then again he was married to her and the centre of her affection suddenly much less of a threat to him, purring on his lap.

He patted the place next to him

“Come,” he told her “you want to and my hand’s getting cramp.” he said, flexing the hand in the man’s hair, it wasn’t but this was something she wanted and perhaps it would be far less awkward when Elijah woke if the one messing up his styled hair was the woman he was in love with.

Hayley hesitated for a moment before she followed his gesture, he removed his hand switching his book to that hand as she took over, and put his arm over her shoulder.

He allowed himself to sink into the contentment, Hayley weight and warmth on one side and the soft low rumbling of Elijah on his other.

There weren’t many things that could make Raph actually laugh out loud, much less laugh this long—but beholding Casey’s instantaneous, strangled, scrunched expression of regret? He cackled with such force that his plastron ached.

“I dunno what I was thinkin’! I got flustered, man! I never saw April with her hair down before!”

“And that…that possessed ya to rough it all up like you were pettin’ a tribble?” Raph wheezed. “Your face…and her face…!”

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Belle/Wicked Witch of the West | Zelena Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Wicked Witch of the West | Zelena Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Post-Canon, Timeline What Timeline, Double Drabble, Fluffy July, Fluffy July 2025 Series: Part 11 of fluffy july 2025 Summary:

Zelena hummed after taking a sip of her own drink. “I hope I made it up to your standards. I know you’re particular when it comes to your tea.”

 “It’s amazing, my love.” Belle assured her. She scooted closer and leaned up to press a kiss on her cheek.

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Gale smiles at Laurent, moving some of his bangs aside. "You always hide your beauty mark. Why is that? It's so cute."

Laurent frowns a bit. "I've never thought about it..."

"Shall I cut your hair so it's more visible, then...?" Gale gently runs his thumb under Laurent's eye across the birthmark.

"O-oh, um..." Laurent feels his ears grow hot. "No, that's not necessary..."

Gale smiles playfully, his voice sing-songy. "You're blushing."

"No, I'm not!"

"Fine, fine... you're not blushing. Your cheeks are red just because." Gale kisses one of his cheeks. "Your beauty mark can be our little secret."

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

[Somehow, almost all of the hairstyles I pick for Laurent hide his beauty mark. It's cute, both the beauty mark and him inadvertently hiding it lol.]