i been missing you, i should be kissing you

[anthophilia]

[ It’s been a pretty good day!

There was the usual extra breaking up of playfights that turn into real kicks and punches that comes along with little boys in superhero costumes who aren’t old enough to have developed a strict understanding of the difference between fantasy and reality yet, and a quick and nasty battle of the Elsas in which one little girl (Nordic blonde, from a background more privileged than most of her classmates, and so capable of reducing her playmates to tears with a few cutting words and disdainful looks that Wolfwood’s weighed up how big of an ethical violation it would be to grab her discarded juice box straw and get DNA run to see if she’s Vash’s secret niece) whose outfit obviously cost about $50 more than anyone else’s told the other three Elsas that they were “just cwappy copies”, but there’d also been a whole lot of good. Face painting, group photos. Shy little Mele had come dressed as Moana and found so much confidence in a costume that linked to her Samoan heritage that she’d taught a group of them (including teachers) how to do a sort of sitting-down clapping dance called a sasa. There’d even been some kids in costumes that weren’t Disney-related, which always warms Wolfwood’s heart. There’s one little boy whose love for anything sparkly and princessy had come into direct conflict with his love of anything spooky until a family brainwave had resulted in what turned out to be Wolfwood’s favourite costume of the day: a zombie fairy, with green and gold glitter on his corpse-painted face, tattered wings, and a tendency to utter a bone-chilling groan and then giggle.

The teachers turn it out, too. The infant room staff are dressed as the good fairies from Sleeping Beauty, the head teacher is Batman with a long dark braid hanging down beneath her cowl, and their receptionist greets all the families dressed as Glinda the Good. Wolfwood himself had forgotten he needed a costume until the night before, but a trip to the thrift shop had provided inspiration in the form of a long-sleeved tee with black and yellow horizontal stripes. Add some wings built from the contents of his craft cupboard and a headband with fuzzy black antennae, and boom! He’s a bee. Millie had giggled delightedly at the sight of him and asked if he was after Vash’s flowers, which Wolfwood is sure was asked in complete innocence but also thought was pretty rich coming from someone in a full suit of (admittedly plastic) armor who’s probably going to go home and become the only reason Meryl Strife would ever behave like a damsel in distress.

The thought sticks with him, though. He’s on closing, so Vash had left for the day before Wolfwood was in costume (not without some whining and extracting a promise of photos) and Wolfwood drives home with wings, headband and all still on so he can creep up behind Vash still bee-ified and wrap his arms around him. ]

Mmm. Honey.

Comments

[spiculatus]

[ there's a little sound of protest when wolfwood moves his ass out of groping range, but vash is going to consider those kisses to be a fair trade-off. he arches up into them with a little sigh, reaching down to thread his fingers gently through wolfwood's hair. (being careful not to dislodge the doodleboopers, of course!) ]

Didn't know bees needed someone to draw them a map to help them find the treasure.