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#i tried to do home and well. i hated it so.
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Career Day
Tags: teeth rotting fluff, crack, jjk men as dads / fem!reader
An: Your child comes home and says tomorrow is career day at their school. They want to bring you and their daddy to school to show off how cool you two are, but.. their dad doesn’t exactly have the most conventional job.
SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA
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SATORU
“My daddy is the strongest!” Your son explains to a room full of his peers. Satoru is proudly beaming next to him. You note how much they look alike. The white hair, the bright blue eyes. Your son looks like he came straight from Satoru and had nothing to do with you.
But your son, Aoi, definitely had your personality.
“Nuh uh. He can’t be the strongest. Superman’s the strongest!” Another kid protested with an unconvinced frown.
“Well, my daddy is like superman!” Aoi retorts, keeping his headstrong personality like his mama. “Actually, he’s even better than superman!”
“He’s not even wearing a suit!” A different child speaks up. You share a nervous glance with Satoru. He’s enjoying this all too much.
“He doesn’t need a suit to be the strongest, dumbass!” Your sweet boy yells, and you promptly cover his mouth. Satoru is laughing his ass off, making the entire situation worse.
Correction, Aoi trying out his dad’s signature hand signal and saying “domain expansion” made the entire situation so much worse.
“You’re grounded, Aoi. You can’t say those things to other people. It’s rude and hurtful.” You say as you and Satoru walk your young boy home. Aoi lets out a small frustrated groan.
“I’m still getting him ice cream.” Satoru interjects with a proud smile. “My boy tried to cast his first domain at just six-years-old. He deserves a sweet treat.” Two wide smiles look up at you, and you realize you’re outnumbered here. Rolling your eyes, you nudge Satoru.
“I want a girl next.”
SUGURU
Mimiko and Nanako begged Suguru to come to their school’s career day. He was of course hesitant to do so, given that Jujutsu sorcery was still a hidden art in Japan. He didn’t exactly know how to explain his career to a bunch of kids.
He had a plan though. He would just tell the children that he was a preacher at a church. It’s not… completely a lie. He was a leader for.. a type of church.
You and Geto walk into the cozy looking classroom and see a load of other parents there. Your husband grimaced at the thought of having to interact with all these… people.
You give Suguru a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “It’ll be okay. Anything for the girls, right?” You whisper into his ear, making him nod. Anything for the girls.
When it’s finally Mimiko and Nanako’s turn to explain what their daddy does for a living, your small family gathers at the front of the classroom. Plenty of small innocent faces and reassuring smiles fill the room.
“Okay girls, tell us what your parents do for a living.” Their teacher prompts with a warm smile.
“My daddy swallows balls for a living!” Nanako says proudly with a beaming smile.
The kids erupted into laughter while their parents gave you two disgusted looks.
To make matters worse, “He also hates filthy mo-“ Mimiko tries to add on, but Geto quickly covers her mouth with his hand.
After explaining what a vivid imagination your twins have, you go on to explain that Geto is a leader at a church, and well, that doesn’t go over too well either.
“Homeschool?” Geto suggests as the four of you walk home.
“Most definitely.” You agree. Mimiko and Nanako are now educated by you at the home, where they can’t out their dad for swallowing balls.
TOJI
“Mama, make papa come to career day.” Your young son, Megumi, demanded. He had a small little pout on his face, and his arms were firmly crossed over his chest. Behind him, Toji stood, shaking his head at his son’s determination.
He often did this: telling you to make Toji do something because you were the only person who could make Toji do anything. After all these years, mans was still wrapped around your finger.
“Baby, Papa’s job is kinda private.” You explain quietly as you pet Megumi’s soft hair.
The small boy’s look of determination shifted to a look of reserve. Even as a young child, he wasn’t great at showing when his feelings were hurt, but you could always tell.
“Gumi.” You say his name softly, bending over to look at the boy’s flat expression.
You were also the only one who could coax Megumi into showing his real emotions.
Tears welled in his eyes, and his bottom lip started quivering. “I don’t wanna be the only one whose parents didn’t come.”
“Oh baby.” You frown as you pull your son into a hug. You glare upwards at Toji, and his eyes widened slightly. He knew what that look meant. “You’re going to career day.” You say to him, leaving no room for argument.
The next day,
“Okay Mr. Fushiguro, what do you do for a living?” The teacher asks Toji as he’s sat next to Megumi. Your son is actually smiling, enjoying the fact that Toji actually came to career day.
“People pay me a large sum of money, and I take care of someone for them.” Toji explains vaguely.
“Oh! Like a doctor?” One of the kids asked with an impressed smile.
“Sure, like a doctor.” Your husband lies, knowing that he does quite the opposite of what a doctor does.
SUKUNA
The look on the kids faces as your tall, muscular, tatted husband walked into the classroom was hilarious. Most of them were completely mortified, giving Sukuna frightened stares.
Your husband was completely unfazed. If anything, he was soaking in the kids’ fear. He sat at the front of the room with a look of arrogance.
Your nephew, Yuji, sat between you two. No, he was technically not your kid, but he didn’t have anyone else to bring to career day. So, Unc Sukuna and Auntie Yn were to the rescue.
“And.. what do you do for work, sir?” The teacher asked in almost a judgmental tone as she eyed Sukuna. You couldn’t tell if she despised him or wanted to fuck him.
“I don’t work. I live off tithe.” Sukuna bluntly answered with a shrug. His lopsided smile never left his face.
“What’s a tithe?” A small child asked quietly.
“It means people pay me out of fear of that I’ll harm them if they don’t.” Your husband gives a child a sharp stare with a challenging smile. He wanted the kids to keep asking questions. The thought of scaring multiple children all at once fueled him.
“Like… beat them up?” Another child asked.
“Like eating their snot-nosed children.” Sukuna answered with a toothy grin. The children all shrieked and cried in terror. Hell, even their parents looked frightened.
“Ryomen.” You chide as you look over towards your husband. He was laughing maniacally, even slapping his knee like the old man he was.
Yuji never invited you two to another career day.
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hannieween · 2 days
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wicked games series, teaser | k.mg
Kim Mingyu came into your life at a time when you needed a friend the most. And that he was: a friend that you could confide in and laugh together, share your secrets with and perhaps, share a burden that was too similar to his.
☆ pairings: kim mingyu x female reader ☆ genre: angst, smut [18+] ☆ aus: bartender mingyu, rebound fuck, friends to fucking, toxic fwb ☆ word count: 1.8k teaser – 20k full chapter
› date of release: 09.29
🎧: hold me – hojean
› read more
chapter i – teaser
Damn you summer rains.
They always came when you least expect it, in the blink of an eye. The air felt so hot as you went out of your office that you could barely walk outside, but then the rain started pouring over you with little to no notice.
Walking down the sidewalk in working shoes was not the best idea. In fact, you were heavily contemplating removing them and just going back home barefoot.
You came to a reluctant halt in the middle of the deserted sidewalk, as heavy droplets of water fell on your face, on the back of your head as you stared at your shoes, getting wetter and wetter as you pondered over your dilemma.
“Lost something?”
Taking one big gulp of air, you shot a look across the sidewalk, only to find Kim Mingyu standing, wearing his usual attire for work. The features of his face looked relaxed despite the heaviness with which he approached you, carrying his fatigue in his limbs with each step.
His white T-shirt began to accumulate wet spots on his shoulders and chest. His cheeks were soaked, as was his long messy hair.
You gaped at him in question. The dilemma occupying your brain dissipated into the void, quickly replaced by the shock of seeing him after days of keeping him at arm’s length without failure.
“Hi there,” he muttered once he stood one step before you.
“Hi,” you smiled, having to tilt your head to find his face.
“You’ve been gone,” he said with some air of urgency, much as if he did not want to lose you at some lazy excuse on your part. “I was starting to wonder that you didn’t want to hang out anymore.”
You hated his straightforwardness sometimes. “Sorry,” you scrunched up your nose in discomfort, receiving more fat droplets of water on your face. “I needed some me time.”
“Then you should’ve just said so, dummy,” he pointed, rolling his eyes at you as if his point were the most obvious thing in the world.
“I struggle to say things sometimes,” you retorted in a whiny tone. “Look, I’d love to continue this conversation but we’re literally just soaking in the middle of the street.”
Mingyu raised his eyebrows, as though he had not noticed the rain pouring down on both of you. “I’ll walk you home,” he motioned in the opposite direction from which he was previously coming.
And with that, he turned around and started to walk down the street.
You fell into step at his side, struggling to keep his steady pace. “Slow down,” you exhaled.
“Right,” he giggled sweetly. “Short legs.”
“Shut up,” you readjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “You just walk really fast.”
“Because I’m taller than you, my legs are longer,” he motioned to his legs, taking one big step that amounted to three of yours.
“Well, then walk slower, please,” you huffed with exhaustion already building up in your feet.
Mingyu noticed, still looking at your face as he walked. “Fine, okay,” he conceded. “Are you just clocking off work?”
You nodded, noticing your ponytail heavier now that your hair was soaking. “I wanted to finish everything before the weekend.”
“It’s three in the morning,” he gasped in dramatic reprimand.
“Don’t give me that look,” you frowned, pointing a finger at him. “I could say the same to you! You also just clocked off.”
“But that is normal for my job! What you do is not something specifically for night hours,” he argued, matching your tone.
“What do you know about what I do?” you tried to argue but a smile fought to curve your lips. “I could hold office hours specifically between 11 pm and 3 am,” you giggled impishly.
“Ah, really you are…” he rolled his eyes but shook the thought from his head. “Could you finish?”
Droplets of water slid down the bridge of his nose, dropping from the tip and onto his cupid’s bow. You remembered the cute little beauty mark sitting on the tip of his nose. You wanted to kiss it.
It took you one second to understand what he was implying. “Oh, yes, I did,” you stammered, crossing your arms over your chest.
But Mingyu did not notice the meaning behind your gaze. “That’s good,” he nodded, pressing his lips together.
The short spasm returned in your chest, making you tear your eyes from his face and keep walking beside him, staring at the sidewalk.
“How was work tonight?” you returned the question, trying to get as much light conversation as you could without falling into the deep craving tugging in your insides.
“It was alright,” he shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“What would that look like?” you ventured.
“Ah, well, drunk people tend to be funny,” he showed you a toothy grin. “One guy celebrated his birthday at the bar one night, and after a few drinks he lost control, went insane,” he laughed at the memory of it. “He started thinking he was an idol, he requested a song and got on top of the bar and started dancing.”
His laugh was contagious, you could not help but respond with a giggle of your own. “Oh, no, that sounds embarrassing. What did you do?”
“He lost his balance and fell to the floor,” his smile vanished, shuddering slightly. “He broke his nose, I had to call an ambulance,” he finished the story, scratching his nape absentmindedly.
“That’s not how I thought the story would end. Talk about a night to remember,” you huffed awkwardly.
“Well that is one story of many,” his eyes widened slightly.
“But you like it?” you raised your eyebrows. “D-do you like your job?”
“I do,” he reaffirmed with a nod.
The rain had completely succeeded at soaking your clothes, your button shirt felt cold against your skin, and your jeans were tight and damp, it was starting to get hard to move.
Whereas you felt like a wet ragged doll, Mingyu looked like a supermodel. His long dark hair was dripping wet onto his beautiful face. His white T-shirt was clinging to the muscles of his body, letting you view the well-defined lines of his abdomen.
“Were here already?” Mingyu asked when you came to a halt in front of your building.
“Yeah,” you said distractedly, sending him a look as you opened the door to the inside of the building, welcomed by the smell of humidity and dust. “Don’t just stand there.”
The man followed you inside without much insistence. You started machining in your brain your next movements while climbing the first flight of stairs to the door of your apartment, which you opened with a shaky hand.
You staggered awkwardly against the door frame, trying to keep your chin up to hold his gaze. One hand brushed the worn edges of the frame, resting on it as you caught your breath. Mingyu noticed your eyes this time around. And you almost did not want to realize that his eyes were on your body as well.
“Do you want to come in?” you asked meekly, darting a look at the dark interior of your apartment, aside from the little lamp you always left on when you went out. “I can make something to eat. And lend you a towel, fresh clothes, maybe.”
Much to your fortune, the man nodded with his head. “If you want,” he mumbled, so you slid back inside your apartment for him to follow inside. “Though I might have to reject the clothes,” reluctantly, he walked inside your little sanctuary, looking at the big frame abandoned and leaning against the wall of the hallway.
“Why?” you asked, still walking backward as he paced in front of you.
“Because they might not fit me,” he chuckled, his smile knocking the air out of your lungs.
“What do you know, I could have something that might,” you smirked, getting him a towel you had discarded earlier in the morning.
He gave you a light gesture of gratitude with his head, thanks, he mouthed before pressing the towel to his face.
“Do you…” you hesitated. “Can I offer you something?”
He sneaked a look at you with the towel pressed to the lower half of his face.
“Like water?” you suggested with a sheepish smile. “I have ramen–and rice in the fridge.”
He contemplated you as you swayed your body on the balls of your feet ever so gently. “You don’t need to do that,” he finally replied.
“It’s just food, Mingyu. You walked home with me,” you shrugged, motioning to the kitchen, your fingers grazing the rim of the dining table.
The man took one step towards you, making your step stutter. “I mean that,” he smiled. “You don’t have to repay nothing, shorty. That’s what friends are for.”
You stumbled against the edge of your dining table, a gasp leaving your lips that you quickly tried to replace with a muffled chuckle. “You know, I could say the same thing.”  
“How long are you going to keep this up?”
“What?” you breathed, completely perplexed by both the proximity and the question. “Ke-keep what up?”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he muttered gruffly, pushing you to lean back against the dining table without laying one finger on you. He was just so close to you that you had no room to breathe.
“Noticed what? Mingyu–,” you giggled in utter shyness when he knowingly smiled at you. The blood rushing to your face made your skin tingle, you bit your lower lip.
“Am I making you nervous?” his voice dropped, his dark eyes reading the features of your face with avid curiosity.
“Yes,” you admitted, leaning back with your hands gripping the wooden rim of the table as he towered over you. “I like you, Kim Mingyu.”
His triumphant smile crushed your heart with its beauty. Damn you, Kim Mingyu.
“I like you too,” he whispered, leaning closer, the smile fading softly you stopped moving back.
“Mingyu,” you whispered, hating how much you were flustered at his confession, your voice waning.
Mingyu paused, but it was not out of hesitance, his gaze swimming on your features quickly softened once you dared to reach out to him. Using the proximity of your bodies, you found his face with your hands, realizing how warm his skin was.
“Yeah?” he whispered back, nodding slightly with his head. Mingyu wanted this too.
You are not sure what happened if you moved first or he did. You closed your eyes, breath hitching as his lips touched yours, your skin coming to life with a fiery rush of blood. From pressing his lips against your own, he quickly moved to kiss you deeper, using one hand on your chin to tilt your face to him.
Your heart stammered in your chest, his hand returning to park in your waist. Friends don’t kiss, you wanted to tell him.
But who were you kidding, you had never wanted someone like you wanted Mingyu.
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☆ author's note: hello hello hi there it's hannieween with an announcement to make!!!
this is my new series (yes, i'm starting a new series even though i have like 3958 other wips going on atm lol)
so this is it, this is a teaser of what's to come. there are some things that i'll change here and there in the final version so be on the lookout for that hehe
that's it for the moment, oh and tell me if you would like to be tagged (●'◡'●)
toodles!
☆ STAY TUNED FOR PART I! ☆ | JOIN MY TAGLIST | BUY ME COFFEE? ♡
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© TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.
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munsonsmixtapes · 1 day
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If you’re taking requests I would love a fluffy fic between Logan and a usually sunshine! Reader with mutant powers similar to Charles (telepathic). Specifically, one where the usual gang decide to go to a rowdy club to let off steam after a mission. Usually the reader loves team bonding but due to the music, all the thoughts jumping out of the drunk crowd, and her own drinking, she gets super overstimulated and essentially shuts down. Maybe Logan sees her off on her own and trying to manage to get over her dizzy spell while some guy is bothering her and decides to step in and escort her out for a breather and a walk. ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡. Regardless if you pick this up, I hope you’re having a great week and I look forward to whatever you post next!
Thank you so much! I hope you're having a great week as well!
cw: mention of alcohol, reader gets anxious
The club was crowded when you entered it. You were all looking forward to letting off steam after your mission and you just liked to spend time with the team, Logan especially. Even though he never would have admitted it, he had a soft spot for you. You were the newest addition to the group and he just felt the need to protect you. You hadn't gotten full control of your powers yet and he wanted to make sure that nothing went wrong.
You made a beeline fore the bar and ordered your usual drink before sitting down on one of the stools, making conversation with everyone around you, even making them laugh with whatever you were talking about. That was one thing that Logan admired about you, that you were always able to make conversation with anyone you came across, which was not something he could do even if he wanted to. He didn't have your charisma or that bright, bubbly personality that he adored so much.
Once he saw that you were okay, he moved further back into the club, but decided to sit somewhere he could still see you. He didn't like drinking when he was doing things like that. He wanted to be one hundred percent alert so he had no problem volunteering to be the designated driver even though his mouth watered anytime he saw someone drinking one of his go-to drinks.
You sipped on your drink as you made conversation with the man next to you. You really hoped that he wasn't going to make a move, though. That wasn't something you were looking for and people often took your niceness for flirting which made the whole thing awkward.
I wonder how long it will be before I can take her home
Your eyebrows furrowed as the thought that definitely wasn't yours and you realized you were reading the mind of the man who was sitting next to you involuntarily. That had only happened when you were overwhelmed or if you had gotten a few drinks in you so you tried to not go overboard because of that.
And all of a sudden, so many thoughts that weren't yours were flooding your brain, making it ache. And between that and the loud music and the alcohol in your system, you were suddenly feeling overstimulated.
You set your drink down on the bar and clutched yor head with both hands, feeling it pounding, almost as if was going to explode. You didn't know what to do, but what you did know was that you needed to get out of there, and fast.
Logan watched everything unfold from his seat, watching you holding onto your head, seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks even from there. And before he could stop himself, he was making a beeline for you, scooping you into his arms before ushering you out of the building.
He was carrying you by the time you got to the door, knowing that you didn't have it in yourself to walk. And he just wanted to get you out of the madness as quick as possible. He had never seen you like that before and hated the feeling he got in his chest watching you struggle like that.
Logan got you out of the club in record speed and set you down, pulling you to his chest, hoping that getting you out of there was actually helpful to your situation. And it was. As soon as you got out into the open air, the voices fled, the pressure in your head slowly dissipating.
He pulled you to his chest as you cried, stroking your hair while his other hand rested on his back. You held onto him so tightly, convinced that if you didn't, he would just disappear. But he wouldn't. Logan would never leave you and he had told you that numerous times when he helped clean up your injuries after a mission.
"You're okay," he murmured into your hair. "I'm here. Just listen to my heart, okay?"
Logan had to admit that he was never good at comforting people, but with you, it was like second nature. He was able to do it so easily, always knowing exactly what you wanted or needed to hear. And he had gotten so good at it that he noticed you seeking him out for advice or help when you needed as opposed to going to the others.
You pulled away to look at him once you had calmed down and he reached up to wipe your tears away, trying to make sure that you were doing okay before leading you to where he parked his car.
"I have some ice cream in my freezer with your name on it," he said as he opened the passenger door for you.
"You know me so well," you smiled as you got into the car. And he did. He knew you better than you knew yourself and you were grateful for that. Someone needed to look out for you and you were just glad that it was always Logan.
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2blockseast · 1 day
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nights like this (logan howlett x gn reader)
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summary: plagued by memories of his ex-lover, logan seeks out their counterpart for comfort. author's note: hey y'all, i hope you're all doing well! i've been simmering on this one for awhile but uni has gotten in the way so it took some time to finish. i'm sorry if the ending feels abrupt... i again blame uni for stealing mental energy from me, lol. anyways, i hope you enjoy! please feel free to send requests. i appreciate you all, stay safe! writing is purposefully in all lowercase; mildly proofread. tags: worst!logan, readers gender not mentioned, human reader (both universes), angst, comfort, happy ending word count: 2,275
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nights like this
it was another sleepless night for logan. he was laying on the couch in wade’s apartment, staring at the ceiling and begrudgingly focusing on the deep ache in his chest. he felt weighted down both emotionally and physically, and despite his attempts to think of something positive, his mind kept drawing him back into the depths of his own despair. 
he was replaying every horrible thing that he had ever done, the memory of his murderous rampage at the forefront. his memories were horrifyingly vivid, with his the memory of the slaughter being so strong he swore he could smell blood. he could almost feel the slick of the blood against his hands, and he remembered how he had felt the fire within him rage on at the feeling. the ache in his chest only intensified at these memories, and logan began to feel his eyes welling with tears as his mind became further crowded with guilt.
he found himself thinking of you. it was nights like this when he needed your love most. the only mildly positive thing about his ability to recall memories so vividly was that he could remember every little thing about you. he thought about how your skin had felt, how you had smelled, the perfect curve of your jaw, your unwavering kindness, and your beautiful eyes that he had loved to lose himself in. he could feel his chest beginning to ache so much it hurt, but he continued to chase his memory of you despite the discomfort. 
logan had always loved you. in his universe, you had been his sun, moon, and stars. not a moment went by that he didn’t think of you. he would follow you around like a lost puppy, doing anything he possibly could to make you feel loved and appreciated. despite his longstanding rough demeanor, you had found a way to soften him. everyone in the x-mansion loved you in your own right, but they loved your positive impact on logan more. you knew how to read his soul and you encouraged him to be kinder to himself, which, in turn, made him kinder to everyone else. you made him a better man. 
but as much as he loved you, and no matter how much he seemed to improve, he had always loved one thing more: hating himself.
when the x-men had been slaughtered, logan’s anger had surfaced in a way nobody had ever thought possible. he didn’t know what to do with all his misery, so he turned it into rage. the nation had watched his murderous rampage through their televisions, and the worldwide fear of mutants only intensified. if people didn’t feel safe before, they certainly didn’t now. 
you had tried to call him a million times when you saw the news, pleading with him to come to your apartment, begging him to come see you, assuring you everything would be okay if he came home. you knew that the brutality of the x-men’s murders had shaken him to his core and that this anger– this rage– was nothing more than a secondary emotion. you promised him that you would take care of him, that you could get through this pain together– he just had to come home to you. 
logan had seen your myriad of calls. he had read your hundreds of frantic– then loving– then desperate– then comforting– then begging texts. he had thought about calling you, but he knew he would never be able to bring himself to do it. he had sat in the woods, covered in blood, longing to crawl into your bed. he felt jagged, and he ached for your softness. but your opposing personalities were what pained him so deeply. he had committed a horrible crime, and no matter how much he wanted to believe that you meant it when you said you could make everything okay, he knew that you couldn’t. he would have to accept that he had ruined everything. 
in his heart, logan knew that you could ease some of his pain. he knew that seeing you, even for a moment, would bring him some relief. he knew you couldn’t make everything okay, but you would at least bring him some semblance of joy in the wake of his grief. but he also knew that he didn’t deserve it. logan had never thought himself deserving of you in the first place, but now he knew that he definitely wasn’t. not only did he not deserve you, but you didn’t deserve him. you didn’t deserve to be responsible for such a monster of a man.
he had messaged you: “i’m sorry, i can’t do this. i hope things work out for you. i’m sorry” before blocking your number. 
even now, all these years later, after saving the multiverse and finding himself again, he longed for you. he wished he could go back to your apartment and apologize a hundred times over. he would get down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. he would smile like a schoolboy as he told you about all the great things he had done, how he had redeemed himself. he imagined you holding his face in your hands, gently stroking his stubble as you comforted him. he imagined you telling him that everything was okay, that you had waited for him all these years, that you still had the same books on your shelves, that your bedroom was still decorated the same and you still wore the same fragrance. 
logan was aching for your touch more than he ever had. he considered going to wade for comfort, which he quickly realized was a horrible idea. the only thing that could make him feel better was you. 
logan didn’t know how he felt about the idea that came to him then. 
he thought about wade’s version of you and how you had met when they had just returned from their multiverse-saving adventure. he remembered how his heart skipped a beat when he saw you again, as beautiful as ever. logan had been pining over you since then, but part of him felt guilty for it. he didn’t know if you had ever known earth-10005’s version of logan– the “best” logan, as some might say– but he guessed that you didn’t considering how happy you seemed. you had always been kind to logan, but he couldn’t help but feel that you were slightly disappointed that the version of the wolverine that wade brought back home wasn’t as amazing as the anchor being that had died. 
after your first few interactions, you seemed to start avoiding him. he hoped he hadn’t done something to upset you or drive you away, but wade had told him that you had always been a bit reserved, especially around new people. “just like i remember”, he found himself thinking. his version of you had been reserved before you two had started dating, and he hoped that maybe the same thing was happening now.
he knew that he wasn’t this world’s logan, and you weren’t his world’s you, but he wanted to wrap himself in your arms nonetheless. he considered going to your apartment just to see you, even if just for a second. he didn’t know if it would make him feel better or worse and he felt bad for even thinking about burdening this untainted version of you with his issues, but he couldn’t help himself. he groggily got up from the couch, throwing on sweatpants and a shirt before heading to see you.
unsurprisingly, you were surprised to see logan in your doorway so late at night. 
“hey, logan,” you said groggily, a bit flustered. “are you okay?”
he looked at your face in the dim light of your apartment, taking it all in.
“yeah, yeah. i’m good,” he stopped, feeling himself hesitate. he wondered if this was a total douchebag move, waking you up in the middle of the night for his own comfort. deciding he had nothing to lose but sleep, he asked, “can i come inside?”.
you stepped aside, still half-asleep. he came in, looking around as he took his shoes off. his heart warmed at the fact that everything was more-or-less decorated the same. you had the same books, the same houseplants, the same coffee table. he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you could also have the same feelings for him, considering how similar you were to the you that he had fucked up. 
“is something wrong?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“no, nothing's wrong,” he said. “i just needed to… i needed someone”.
flattered that logan had come to you for comfort, you said: “oh, well i hope i can be that someone for you”.
“you always were” he thinks to himself.
“but,” you start, looking a bit dejected. “i have to work tomorrow and i really need to sleep”.
“oh,” logan says, feeling bad that he’s stealing sleep from you. “i don’t need anything special, just being here helps”.
“oh, that makes me happy!” you reply. “how about we just rest together?”
his heart warmed at the thought. seeing the faint blush on his cheeks and feeling his excitement, you giggle and start walking to your bedroom. logan follows, feeling his heart begin to glow at the chance to be close to you. 
throwing back the covers, you settle into your bed. logan looked around your room, decorated just how he remembered. your bed was still snug in the corner of the room, the same desk by the window, the same faint smell of your favorite fragrance lingering in the air. logan felt like he was about to start crying at how happy it made him. he had been in your room a million times, and he could replay every memory you two had shared together here. even though logan had technically lived at the x-mansion, you had always referred to the apartment as as your guys’ home, as if you owned it together. logan had always loved that what was yours was also his. he noticed now that the only things missing from this room were his flannels you had “borrowed”, as well as the photos of the two of you posted on the walls. 
you yawned, patting the space beside you on the bed. 
“are you coming?” you asked.
logan looked at you, laying in your bed in your sleepwear, looking at him expectantly. he nodded, slipping into bed beside you.
you lifted your arm, inviting him to rest his head on your chest, and logan’s heart skipped a beat. you had always been kind to him, but you had never been affectionate like this. he wondered if you were being so inviting because you genuinely liked him or if you were just too tired to be closed off. either way, he nestled himself beside you, pulling up the covers.
you rested your hand on top of his head, slowly breathing in and out. he could hear your heartbeat, gentle and consistent. he closed his eyes, soaking up the purity of this moment.
“i know you need to sleep,” he said, breathing out. “but can i ask you a question?”
you giggled, chest rising. “sure, logan”
“did you ever know this world’s wolverine?”
you stopped for a moment, looking at the ceiling contemplatively. 
“no, i didn’t,” you replied. “it would have been cool, though. why do you ask?”
“just curious,” he said. he couldn’t tell if knowing that made him feel better or worse– at least you couldn’t compare him to the honorable anchor being that had passed.
“did you ever know your world’s me?” you giggled. logan could tell you meant it as a joke, you didn’t expect him to have ever known you. 
“funnily enough, i did” he replied, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation. his heart rate increased and he hoped this wouldn’t ruin the moment– he didn’t want you thinking he was only there to pretend you were his version of you. he liked both versions of you, and he wasn’t in your bed to live in the world as he wanted it to be. he knew you were your own unique person, even if you were similar to the you he had loved.
“oh,” you said, surprised. monotone, you added: “that’s cool.” 
logan tensed again. he couldn’t tell if you had replied monotone because you were too tired to be expressive or if you were preparing yourself to kick him out.
“what was i like?” you asked, surprising him. your fingers began running through his hair and he leaned into the familiar sensation.
“you were awesome, just like you are now,” he breathed out. “you lived in this same apartment… at least when i knew you”
“why did you stop knowing me?”
logan thought for a second.
“i did some bad stuff… cut you off. i hadn’t seen you in, i don’t know, five years?”
“oh,” you said quietly. your breath hitched as you worked up the confidence to say: “i don’t know if this is weird, but… what were we?”
logan’s breath hitched. “lovers, i guess”
you hummed. “i bet we were nice”
logan let out a low, pained laugh. “we were really nice”
“y’know,” you started after a long silence, hesitating. “i think we could be nice now, too”
logan froze, surprised. “y'think?”
“yeah,” you said, smiling. “i think that with time, we could be very, very nice… if you’re up to try”
“i would love to try,”  logan smiled. “i would try with you a million times”
you hummed, content with his answer. “i think i would like that”
logan relaxed, settling into your side. he breathed a sigh of relief, reveling in the warm feeling of your affection. he drifted to sleep, the memories that plagued him replaced with the new, softer memory of getting to love you once again.
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tj-is-down · 18 hours
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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (Tyler Owens x Reader)
Back again with another random fic for y'all. This is not proofread, so don't hate me!
Summary: Tyler and the reader have been on and off "together" for years now, keeping it secret. Until, suddenly, one of them decides they might want more.
Word count: ~2.1k
Warnings: None except some swearing, and reader is described femininely in this one.
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Here’s the thing about Humble Creek: everybody knows everybody. A small town made up of just under five thousand, there was nothing that anybody could do in secret, because if one person knew, then it was just as if they’d taken a bullhorn and announced it to the entire town.
Which made Y/N’s life all the harder. See, she did have a secret, and although it hadn’t gotten out yet, its secrecy was held in the hands of a monster. A tyrant, a tool, a pain-in-the-ass douchebag with a cowboy hat and a Texas accent.
Tyler Owens.
Y/N had known he was trouble since they were kids. Growing up on rival ranches, they were destined to be enemies, and even more so, to blur the lines. Y/N had never trusted him. Not because their families were constantly fighting, as she believed everybody deserved their own chance to prove themself, but because he had fucked his up, royally. 
In elementary school, middle school, high school, Tyler was always the talk of the town. Always with a girl on his arm, Tyler was confident, and everybody else was just putty in his hands. Y/N told herself she didn’t understand what people saw in him. 
She lied.
It started in eighth grade, when Tyler showed up in a too-big tux and a bouquet of flowers he’d handpicked from his family’s garden.
“You wanna go to the dance?” He asked, grinning cockily. Even then he knew how to charm, before he even knew what charm was.
Y/N’s dad had said no, absolutely no way, but Y/N was in her rebellious phase and so this only pushed her to say yes. She went out right then, in her mud-stained t-shirt and jeans, and they’d walked to the school together at seven p.m. and walked home together at nine. He’d kissed her cheek goodnight and she’d wiped it off, embarrassed.
“You’re annoying, Owens.”
“And you’re pretty, L/N.”
On the next Monday he came to school with Cherry Lee.
Y/N tried to be mad. She tried to hate Tyler, to swear that she’d never talk to him or think about him or even look at him ever again. But two months later, when Tyler and Cherry broke up, he’d knocked on her door when he knew her parents weren’t home and, against her better judgment, she’d let him inside.
They’d been on-and-off “together” ever since.
Now, Tyler wasn’t single for long intervals, usually just a couple of weeks here and there, and he would never cheat, nor would Y/N let herself become a homewrecker (no matter how fragile the relationship), but when Tyler showed up on her doorstep, bouquet in hands and that look in his eyes, she knew she couldn’t say no. 
She was an adult now, but still, she couldn’t resist those eyes. Tyler had been single since before leaving for college, and when he came back it was like he’d never left. Sure, now he had a truck, a big name, a crew, and a YouTube channel, but he still had those eyes, and his family still had a garden with a never-ending supply of flowers.
He showed up on her door one morning, after her parents had left for church.
“Can I help you?” She asked, opening the door. As always, a t-shirt and jeans, dirty from the morning’s work on the farm.
“You’re not at church?”
“You knew I wouldn’t be.”
“Well, maybe the two and I can practice praying on our own? I think the first step is kneeling down; you wanna start?”
Y/N went to close the door, but Tyler’s hand reached out to prop it open.
“Come on, Darlin’,” he said, laying the accent on thick. “You want to go for a drive? I’ll buy you a coffee.”
“Hold the coffee,” she said, walking past him. “I’d rather not have anyone see us together.”
He grabbed her waist and stood behind her, kissing her neck. “We’ve been doing this for years, babe. No one’s gonna find out, I promise.”
She leaned her head towards him, breathing in the scent of firewood mixed with his cologne. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“You gettin’ sappy on me?” He asked. Though his voice was soft, she could feel his smirk.
“Nope.” She pulled out of his grasp and got into the passenger seat of his truck. “We going, or are you just gonna stand there looking all doe-eyed?”
“For you, I’d stand here all day, sweetheart.”
“Just get in the car, Romeo.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
*** 
They drove for a while, to the outskirts of town, when Tyler stopped the truck and leaned over. He kissed her lips, hard and slow, putting his hand on the back of her neck to pull her closer. She reciprocated, holding his bicep, moving her mouth in tandem with his and letting herself fall into him.
“Why are you being so love-y today?” She asked after they separated.
“I can’t show my girl some love?”
“Is that what I am? ‘Your girl’?”
He shrugged. “Is that so bad?”
“You’re annoying, Owens.” She pushed his shoulder.
He mock-pushed her back as he said, “You’re pretty, L/N.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Seriously, though, there is something I wanted to talk to you about—”
Y/N scoffed. “Are you about to ask me out?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Okay, good.”
“Would that be so bad of me?”
“Kinda.” Y/N breathed a laugh, but when she saw Tyler’s face, serious and a little upset, she stopped. “I mean, it’s not like we have the best thing going on here anyways, and I just don’t want to be—” She paused, about to say heartbroken, or used, or a placeholder for when you find someone better, but Tyler cut her off.
“Yeah, you’re right.” He started the truck, engine roaring to life. “It was dumb, nevermind. I’ll take you home.”
“Tyler, you know what I meant—”
“Yeah, yeah. We’re just messing around, right? That’s all this is, just messing around.”
He didn’t say another word on the ride home. 
He dropped her off, barely waiting for her to shut the truck door before he drove away.
***
Tyler didn’t answer any of Y/N’s calls or texts for the next few days. Y/N was upset, barely leaving her room checking her phone obsessively for any sign of Tyler Owens. She even started watching his YouTube channel, but there hadn’t been any uploads for over a month. Nothing on Instagram or Facebook, either.
Her mother yelled up the stairs to her one night, calling her down.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Her mom said upon seeing Y/N.
“This is what I always wear. Why?” Y/N was suddenly self conscious, confused as to why her parents cared what she wore in the house.
“Tonight’s the fair,” her mother responded, attempting to jog her memory.
“You’re helping us run our booth?” Her father tried.
“Ah, shit,” Y/N mumbled, remembering. “Do I have to go? I totally forgot.”
“Of course you have to go!” Her father said. “We need the three of us there; it’s a family ranch, remember?”
“Besides,” her mother added. “The Owens’s will be there. We can’t let them get a leg up on us! If you’re not there, Tyler will be running the show for sure.”
“Well, maybe not,” her father said. “He’s doing the kissing booth, remember?”
“The what?” Y/N said. “Tyler’s doing a kissing booth?”
Her father nodded. “To raise funds for his family’s ranch. He and his whole ‘team’ will be there, whatever they’re called.”
Y/N paused for a moment, trying to wrap her head around it all. Was that what Tyler was trying to talk to her about the other day? The kissing booth? But why would it matter what Y/N thought about it?
Her mother ushered her up the stairs. “For Pete’s sake, change into something nice, and quickly!”
Oh, shit.
***
The Humble Creek Fair was bustling with energy. People from nearby towns came to see what it was all about, and it was always the most popular time of year.
Y/N sat at her family’s booth, eyes peeled for Tyler. She kept checking her phone to see if he’d answered, but when she didn’t get any notifications she decided to take matters into her own hands.
“I’m going for a walk,” she said to her parents.
They both nodded, and her father added, “Make sure to see how the Owens’ booth is doing. I want to make sure we’ll still be in business next year.”
Y/N looked around for the kissing booth, and when she saw a long line of women, she followed it to the front. She walked around to the back of the attraction, but didn’t see Tyler anywhere. It wasn’t until she’d nearly given up entirely when she heard a voice behind her.
“What are you wearing?”
She whisked around, coming face-to-face with Tyler, who was holding some sort of weird meat on a stick.
“What are you eating?”
“Pork leg, fried and marinated in pickle juice,” he said, shrugging. “I’m hoping it’ll make my breath smell bad so less people come up. Now, back to you.”
“What about me?”
“You’re wearing a dress. You never wear dresses. ‘Jeans and a t-shirt, that’s me,’” he says, doing a poor impression of her.
“I don’t sound like that.”
“Yes you do, but that’s besides the point. What’s your deal?”
Y/N shrugged uncomfortably. “I wanted to, I guess.”
Tyler looked at her dead-on. “You look nice, Y/N.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been texting you for days. No response. But now that I’m here, all I get is, ‘I look nice’?” 
“What else do you want from me?”
“An answer, Tyler. What’s your deal? Why didn’t you tell me about the kissing booth?”
“I tried to, but then you came at me with all that ‘this is a bad idea’ crap, and I figured you didn’t want me to tell you. Or you didn’t care if I told you or not.”
“Okay, so—”
“Wait.” He stops her. “Do you care?”
Y/N kicks the ground. “If I did?”
“If you did,” he said, stepping closer to her. “I’d drop the pork leg and kiss you.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’d eat the pork leg, and I’d kiss a bunch of people who aren’t you, and I’d feel like shit about it.” He took another step closer to her, nearly closing the gap between them. “Please say you care.”
“Ugh,” she scoffed. “You’re gonna make me say it? You can’t just, like, infer from the situation?”
“I’m really bad at inferring things,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “So, I’m gonna need to hear you say it.”
“You’re annoying, Owens.”
“You’re pretty, L/N. Like, so pretty. But I do need to hear you say it, and I’m also gonna need you to—”
“I care, Tyler. Now shut up and kiss me, or I’m gonna take it back.”
“Can’t take it back, babe. It’s set in stone.”
In one fluid motion, he dropped the pork leg, grabbed Y/N by the waist with his other hand, and pulled her into a kiss. It was deep and passionate, not like any of the other times they’ve kissed. They kept it going for as long as they can, holding their breath until they couldn’t anymore, and then they pulled apart, gasping for air with their foreheads touching.
“Will you go out with me?” He asked her, still struggling for air. “Like, on a real date, not just driving in the truck?”
“I guess,” Y/N said, teasingly. “If I have to.”
“I mean, you don’t have to. But if you do, I’m gonna need you to wear this again.” He grabbed her and pulled her closer to him, if that’s even possible. “Because, if I’m being honest, L/N, this is the hottest I’ve ever seen you. Like, I didn’t think you could get hotter, but here we are. Speaking of, can we go? I really want to go somewhere with you. Like, privately.” He winked at her, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes again.
“Don’t you need to raise money for your farm?” She asked him, gesturing to the booth behind them.
“Fuck the farm,” he said. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy, yeah?”
“Fuck off,” she said, pulling him into another kiss.
“Seriously though, can we go?”
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mymindisneverhere · 3 days
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warnings: 18+, SMUT, dirty talk, unprotected sex, & more but don’t say I ain’t warn you.
Summary: Aaron is head of an architect firm who just hired a new assistant who is very nervous yet severely attracted to him.
(this is my first time writing one of these but I had to cause this man got me in a chokehold. enjoy!) 🩵
Assistance
She watched as his back muscles flexed with every rep. He had been exercising for the past 30 minutes and she didn’t want to interrupt but this was an emergency. Meagan had been Mr. Pierre’s assistant for 3 months now and she was enjoying her time with him. He was a kind yet stern gentleman who took his business endeavors very seriously. He needed her to send the final blueprints of a new building his architect firm would be preparing to build this coming fall. The deadline was in an hour and there were still bits and pieces of information missing. She knew how much this meant to her boss but she also knew how much his private workout routines meant to him as well.
She didn't mean to stare but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his glistening body. This man was sculpted by the creator themselves. Every muscle flexed perfectly and the veins in his arms went well with his masculine physique. She studied his movements as he brought both of his arms up and down above his head, doing what they called “Shoulder Press”. After a few more reps he slammed the dumbbells down and leaned forward to catch his breath. She had been in such a trance that she didn’t notice him looking up to see her staring in the mirror.
“Do you like your job?” He asked in a stern tone.
”Uh y-yes.” She stammered, shaking her head to bring herself back into the present moment, pushing her curly hair behind her ears.
”Then I suggest you get back to it then.” He stated, reaching for a towel and throwing it over his shoulder.
“Um, Mr. Pierre sir, th-there are a few details missing from the blueprints. We h-have an hour and uh, I-I didn’t want to send them t-to the contractors until-“ She stuttered. She hated when this happened. She’d get so nervous that her words would struggle to leave her mouth. She always struggled with her speech impediment since a child but it had gotten better over the years, that is until she met Mr. Pierre.
He walked over to her grabbing the papers from her hand reviewing the layouts of the new fine arts museum that would be built right in the center of downtown. As he looked over the paperwork the two sat in silence. Well he was silent but he could hear her struggling to breathe as he stood a few inches away from her. He made her nervous and he liked it. It wasn’t anything new to him though.
Being the man that he was with a million dollar business caused women to gawk at the sight of him. What he didn’t enjoy about these women were the ones who were obviously bothered by his presence but chose to put on a front. He knew that he could be intimidating and he hadn’t done it on purpose. But the women who tried so hard to match his aura always failed tremendously. The over talking, over sexualizing themselves, practically throwing themselves at him when they weren’t even prepared for the type of man he was, irritated him.
But his assistant, Meagan, was a different story. She’d get nervous from time to time when speaking with him but she’d never force herself to hide it. He’d notice that she’d take a few deep breaths, take a sip of water and then get right back to it like she never missed a beat. He liked that. He had to admit watching her struggle around him fed his ego a bit.
He looked to her and handed her the papers, giving her the corrections to make before sending it off to be finalized.
“Is that all?” He asked, staring down at her with a stern expression.
“Yes sir, thank you.” She grabbed the papers with a steady hand, slowly to be sure she didn’t drop them or make it obvious that he had her shook. She placed the folder with the paperwork under her arm and turned to leave his in-home gym.
He stood watching her walk away, admiring her natural body from her defined hips that slightly dipped into deep dimples to her voluptuous ass. No matter how many pairs of tights she’d wear, they would never stop the natural jiggle that happened when she’d walk. He felt his dick jump in his workout tights and he knew he had to have her. He immediately grabbed his phone and made his way to his bedroom to shower.
Meagan sat at the kitchen island, her fingers going a mile a minute as she sent email after email. They had done it, they had just secured the lot for the new Museum of Fine Arts and this meant Mr. Pierre would have a large check coming to him very soon. This was her first big win as his assistant and she couldn’t decide how she would celebrate. Although she couldn’t focus on celebrating because every time she did, images of him flashed in her mind. Images of him in the gym, images of him staring down at his sketches for the new buildings, images of him fucking her-
“Did you get it to them on time?” He asked, interrupting her thoughts. She silently thanked him before responding.
“Uh yes sir.” She replied. She turned the laptop toward him so he could see for himself. “Everything is confirmed, the deal is done!” She said looking up at him. Her eyes were so soft and pleading, almost childlike. It’s like she wanted to impress him badly. She wanted to finally get the approval she had been working for these past 3 months.
“Good job.” He said dryly.
She frowned a bit, somewhat in confusion and frustration. What was with this guy? She had just helped him secure one of the biggest deals for his firm and all he could say was “Good job”. She turned the laptop back toward her and went back to doing her daily emailing.
As she confirmed meetings and lunches for him she tried to sneak a peek at him but he was already staring at her. She didn’t know what this meant but she was afraid she’d be in the unemployment line real soon. He didn’t say anything, he just stared at her. When the silence went on for longer than she expected her mind went into overdrive. She couldn’t be getting fired, they had just closed a 7 figure deal, but she did overstep a boundary by going into his gym without his permission. But it was an emergency, hell it was for his business. He couldn’t have been that much of an asshole.
”Look Mr. Pierre, I-I’m sorry about coming into the g-gym without your permission. I just d-didnt want to mess up y-your b-big-“ She struggled to get out before he interrupted her.
”Breathe.” He suggested.
She stared down at her hands as she took a few deep breaths before mustering up the courage to meet his stern gaze again.
“You’re not in trouble.” He said, calming her mind first and her body second. He studied her as he watched her chest rise up and down slowly. Her jaw became unclenched and her shoulders more relaxed.
He looked down at his watch to see the time was nearly 11p.m., it was too late to send her on her way. He had enough bedrooms in this house, she could just pick one to rest for the night and be on her way in the morning.
“I don’t want you driving back home so late tonight.” He spoke.
“Oh, I’ll be fine. It’s no prob-“
”That’s an order.” He interrupted. “I wouldn’t be a man if I let you leave so late, I know you have a far drive to make.”
She nodded, refusing to look him in the eye.
“You know your way around the house, you can stay in a guest suite tonight.” He said before leaving the kitchen. “Great job by the way.”
She looked up at him in surprise.
“You’ll be around for a while so get comfortable.” He finished, leaving her in the kitchen alone.
Once she heard his footsteps become silent, indicating that he was no longer within ears reach, she jumped up in celebration. That is exactly what she wanted to hear.
”Yes!” She yelled, covering her mouth. She giggled to herself as she grabbed her laptop off of the island and made her way up to one of the guest suites.
After placing her things in the chair that sat near the window, she unbuttoned her dress shirt and kicked off her heels. She chose to stay in the guest suite on the far west wing of the house, it was in the opposite wing from his bedroom. She walked into the large bathroom that was attached to the suite and turned on the lights. She looked over to see a walk in shower and a large garden tub. She had chosen to take a shower instead, she was already a guest in his house, the last thing she needed to do was spend hours in his bathtub.
She turned on the faucet, pulling it all the way left to get the water as hot as possible. That was the only way she’d take showers. Closing the shower door, she walked over to the mirror to continue removing her clothes while the water warmed to her liking. She got down to her bra and panties, a matching set, as she admired her reflection. When she unbuttoned her bra, causing her natural 34 C’s to drop a bit, the images began to flash in her mind. Only this time she had imagined Mr. Pierre in the bathroom with her, staring at her with those icy blue eyes that sent chills down her spine.
This made her pussy tingle. The thought of her tall, broad shouldered, smooth skin, no nonsense boss staring at her with pure hunger and desire. Him touching all over her body, feeling her breasts in his big hands, feeling his soft lips on her neck. Her fantasies were making her wet but it was fine because she would hop right in the shower to wash her lustful thoughts away.
She stepped out of her panties and into the shower, letting the hot water run down her body. Her hands ran up and down her figure as she tried hard to stop the fantasies of her boss joining her in the shower. She had pictured what he’d look like naked a few times, she had already gotten half of the picture today when she saw him shirtless. His toned arms, each one covered in a single tattoo, his chiseled chest, his brown nipples, his defined abs and that V cut that she had stared down at while he reviewed the blueprints. She knew that V cut led to a heavy dick, carved with thick veins and a head that would feel soft against her lips.
She was so deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that her hands had been playing in her pussy. Her middle finger and ring finger toyed with her clit as her hands began to wrinkle from the wetness her boss had brought her and he didn’t even know. As she played with her pussy she imagined his tongue there.
“Fuck.” She had let out a moan, sure that she wouldn’t be heard. She was positive that the water would drown out her cries.
“You feel so good in my pussy Mr. Pierre.” She said aloud, not worried about being heard by him or the house keepers. “Eat this pussy Daddy.”
She moaned and groaned, begging and pleading for her boss to make her cum until she came all over his face in her mind, her fingers in reality. After a few breaths she opened her eyes to realize where she was and that she needed to get clean so she could get some sleep.
A few minutes passed and the water was turned off. She stepped out of the shower, one foot at a time before realizing she had no towel to dry off with. She searched through the drawers in the sink vanity and found nothing but toothbrushes and toothpaste. Not a towel in sight.
“Shit.” She said to herself. She needed to dry off but stepping outside of this bathroom uncovered was too much of a risk for her. She didn’t even want to think of being caught by the house keepers let alone her boss. She sat thinking for a few minutes, contemplating on whether or not she should just air dry and slip on the pajama sets he had stored in the nightstand next to the bed. She hated air drying in the bathroom though, it was so wet and humid, she needed to get out of there.
Once she remembered his beautiful mansion came with intercoms in each room she figured she'd just politely ask for some towels to be left outside of the door. Finally satisfied with her plan, she headed for the bathroom door. When she swung the door open her heart sank as she met his blue eyes first. Her boss, Mr. Pierre stood on the other side of the door staring down at her.
Panic was written all over her face as she remembered she had just orgasmed to the thought of him eating her. She had called out his name and many other things, confident that she wouldn’t be heard. But by the look on his face, she knew he had heard everything.
“I remembered the housekeepers didn’t stock this bathroom with towels, so I thought I’d bring you some.” He started, still staring down at her with those beautiful eyes, that seem to change to a light hazel color now. He walked into the bathroom causing her to step back until her back hit the wall near the shower.
“Did you need me for something?” He smirked, towering over her. Her 5’4 frame didn’t stand a chance under his 6’3 build.
She stood there speechless, she didn’t know what to say. She was too embarrassed to speak. No matter how hard he stared at her, she refused to meet his eyes. So she stood staring at his chest, his muscular and defined chest.
“I- um, I- was j-“ She struggled, this time understandably.
He bent down, burying his face into her neck, sucking on her vanilla scented skin. She was still so caught off guard, not coming to terms with the fact that her fantasies were coming true in real time. He dropped the towels and reached down to grab her legs, wrapping them around his waist. He sucked and licked on her neck, planting kisses all over her.
“Sir, I-I didn’t m-mean to-“ She stuttered, struggling to breathe correctly or at all.
“Don’t be nervous now.” He mumbled, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. “This what you wanted right?” He pulled her off of the wall and sat her on the bathroom sink.
“Um…” She managed.
“Right?” He asked, looking into her eyes, demanding a response.
She looked up at him before taking a deep breath and responding “Yes.”
“Yes what?” He asked, still staring intensely at her.
“Yes sir.” She breathed.
He smirked. He enjoyed having women at his mercy but this woman was different. He didn’t expect her to be pleasuring herself to the thought of him. She appeared innocent and sweet but that was clearly a front. She craved him just as much as he craved her.
He looked down at her freshly waxed pussy still glistening as a result of her own pleasures. He licked his lips as he admired the sight of her body in front of him. He didn’t know where to start, he just knew he didn’t want to go wrong with this masterpiece that sat waiting to be devoured by him.
She looked down at his sweatpants and saw his print. She wanted so badly to find out what he felt like, what he tasted like, how his dick would feel hitting the back of her throat. Without hesitation she stood from the sink and dropped to her knees. She ran her fingers around his waist before pulling his pants down, coming face to face with his dick. It was exactly how she imagined, thick, brown and beautiful. She grabbed his length with her hand, noticing the precum that sat right at the head.
She licked the sweet cum off of him, locking eyes with her boss as she did so. He was taken aback at the sight of his once nervous and jittery assistant who was now bold and fearless. He was used to being the dominant in the situation, he would have his women responding to his touch and the feeling of his tongue in their pussy. But this night was a total 180, he found himself being the subject of a woman who had dreamed of devouring him months ago.
She licked the entirety of his dick before taking him into her mouth, wrapping her lips around his hardness. She jerked her neck back and forth, her tongue rubbing against the bottom of his dick so that he could feel only the wetness and warmth of her mouth. She sucked and slurped, moaning out of pure satisfaction and enjoyment. She watched as his face frowned in pure bliss. He had placed his hands on her head to help guide her but she didn’t need any guidance. She could tell by the look on his face he wanted something more, but he was in too much ecstasy to bring himself to say it.
“Fuck my face.” She said, rubbing the head of his penis against her full lips that were covered in spit. She liked the fact that she was watching her super tough super masculine boss fold at her touch, it was all because of her.
He tightened the grip on her head and forced himself into her mouth touching the back of her throat. She relaxed the muscles in her neck so that he could get better access, all the access he hoped for. He fucked her face, pumping in and out of her mouth pausing when he got all of himself into her. This caused her to gag slightly, building more saliva in her mouth which would make for an even better experience. He thrusted his hips back and forth, pausing between strokes to trigger her gag reflex. He loved the sound of her struggling to take all of him in. The more she gagged, the more tears built in her eyes. Before she knew it, the tears had fallen and the spit that built in her throat and ran down her neck onto her breasts.
This sight caused him to clench his jaw reluctantly. His assistant who he perceived as innocent had turned into a slut all because of him. The way she moaned as if she was the one being pleasured, the way her eyes would roll into her head and then focused back into his, hedidn’t want to cum just yet but the way she locked eyes with while he fucked her pretty face sent him over the edge. How she sat and took in every inch of him without tapping out made him let out a loud groan before sending his nut down her throat.
”Fuuuuuck!” He groaned, holding her head in place as he rode out his orgasm. She sat still as he struggled to catch his breath, her eyes still locked onto his. He pulled out of her and took a few breaths, still coming down from his climax. She swallowed every single drop of him.
“Stand up.” He demanded, his voice deep and impatient.
She stood with a slight smirk on her face, proud of her performance. In a swift motion she spun around facing the mirror as he kicked her legs open and slightly bent her over the sink. His hand was still wrapped tightly around her curls so this sudden change in position was all his doing. He pressed himself into her ass while he eyed her through the mirror. He could see that this had caught her off guard, the ball was now back in his court. He stared down at her ass, biting his lip in anticipation.
“Don't get nervous now.” She said, eyeing him through the mirror, a small smirk on her face again.
Without warning he pushed himself into her slowly until all of him was inside of her, every single inch. She let out a small wince from pain from the size of his dick. It had been a while since she’d had any, let alone one this size. With a hand full of curls in his left hand, he pulled her head back wrapping the other around her throat as he began to fuck her from behind. The sound of her ass slapping against him and the wetness from her pussy sent her into another realm. It was so good, better than she’d imagined.
He stroked her pussy, barely tightening the grip he had on her lower jaw. He pulled in and out of her, slamming himself into her with a quick thrust and then returning back to his steady pace. As he began to roll his hips into her, he saw her face twist in complete pleasure.
”Is this how you wanted it?” He said into her ear.
“Mhmm.” She replied, still so caught up in the pleasure she was getting from him.
“Use your words.” He said, tightening the hold he had on her hair.
“Yes sir.” She quickly responded.
“Good girl.” He spoke into her ear.
She felt him moving in and out of her, his dick hitting every spot with every stroke. She could feel the head of his dick rub against her spot over and over again. It was only a matter of time before she would cum all over him like she had imagined for months. The more he spoke into her ear, the crazier he was driving her. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it. His deep and calm tone right in her ear sent sensations to her clit, it was so swollen that it damn near stung from pleasure.
“You gone cum on this dick for me?” He asked, tightened the grip he had around her neck.
“Yes!” That was all she could manage at the moment.
“Cum on this dick baby.” He said into her ear, still hitting that spot that made her eyebrows wrinkle in pleasure.
She could feel her stomach tightening and pussy began to contract around him, she was cumming.
“Yes daddy, I’m cummin’” She yelled out in pleasure. He continued stroking her, feeling her creamy goodness run down his dick and onto his balls. He wanted all of her, he wouldn’t leave her until she was completely undone. He slowed his pace giving her time to come down from her orgasm before he made her cum again.
After a few long and slow strokes, he gradually picked up his pace aiming for another climax from her.
“Oh fuck yes!” She cried out. She had never cum multiple times in one day. For her orgasms to be back to back like this, there was no way she would ever meet anyone else who would top him.
”Give me that shit.” He spat, his lips brushing her earlobe. He needed his demands to send blood rushing right to her pussy.
”Yes!” She screamed, cumming all over him once again. Her clit jumped as her pussy throbbed naturally after her second orgasm. Even after that powerful flood that ran down her legs, he still hadn’t stopped stroking.
“I can’t.” She said, pleading for him to let her come down.
“Yes you can.” He said, now picking up the pace. His strokes became harder and faster, this time it was his turn to become undone and he wasn’t stopping until he did so. He fucked her like he was running a marathon and he could see the finish line a few feet away.
“Please.” She begged. Her hearing was starting to fade and breathing was becoming harder and harder by the second. On one hand she wanted a break, she needed a break from all of this back to back pleasure. But for some reason she didn’t want him to stop, she could feel his dick throb in her pussy. She knew he was about to cum and she wanted to have the last laugh.
“I’m almost there baby.” He said, his eyes closed as he felt the nut build in his lower abdomen. She watched in amazement as his face turned in pleasure. She took this opportunity to watch him fold yet again.
“Cum in my pussy daddy.” She moaned.
That was it. He leaned forward, placing his lips on her neck, closing his eyes even tighter than before. He grinded deeply into her until he felt his muscles in his stomach flex.
”Fuck!” He groaned into her neck as he shot his cum deep into her pussy. He stroked forcefully until he felt all of himself empty inside of her, before stopping and letting go of her hair.
There they rested against the bathroom counter struggling to catch their breath, holding onto each other for dear life. After a few minutes they both opened their eyes and stared at each other through the mirror.
“Sleep in my room tonight.” He began. “Or you’re fired.” He finished, pulling himself out of her and leaving the room.
She felt her knees buckle as she struggled to keep herself upright.
”I love my job.” She said to herself.
(I hope y’all liked it 😭 excuse any mistakes)
🩵
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Hello! I don't know if requests are open, I'm sorry, but I have a request 🥹 You can ignore it if you want!
Imagine the reader dyeing her hair, and Logan doesn't really understand the concept, but thinks she looks really pretty, and then she asks him to dye the back part where she can't see 😭❤️‍🩹 just cute and loving
My requests are always open!
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Logan always loved your hair. He thought you always had it so pretty, even when you just woke up and it was all over the place. He loved whatever shampoo you used it always made it so soft and smelt sweet. You changed your hair often and it always turned out amazing, Logan just assumed that you went to the salon to get your hair done, he knew that you did your nails at home you said it was too expensive to go out and get them done professionally so you just did it at the house. He hated the smell of the polish, but he did love seeing you having pretty nails, so he put up with it and sometimes he even helped paint your right hand. However, he had just assumed you got your hair done professionally, he never saw you do your hair at the house at it just looked too well done for an amateur.
He has been getting upset with you lately, and he didn't know how to tell you.
He always wanted to be the one who took care of you. He wanted to provide for you, no matter the cost or what it was. He just wanted you to have whatever you wanted in life, but you kept denying his offers to get your hair done. He was about to just make an appointment at some random salon and drive you there for it so you would stop arguing with him over dumb stuff like money.
.
.
He just got off work and was walking into the house, ready to not back down from the fight he knew was coming, but as he was walking into the house, a strong smell overwhelmed his senses. He groaned and scrunched up his nose "the fuck is that smell??"
You nearly jumped out of your skin hearing Logan so soon. "Logan! You weren't supposed to be home for another hour!" You rushed back to the bathroom to try and clean up some of the hair product you've been using and to open the window to air out the room as best as you could.
"What is that smell?" Logan asked again, still not knowing what he was smelling. You cringed slightly and turned to him with the bowl of hair dye in your hands. "I was doing my hair, just a touch-up, but I-I thought you weren't going to be home for a while, so I thought I'd have time to air the house out. I know you're sensitive to smells and just assumed that the dye would be too strong for you."
Logan felt his heart swell slightly, hearing that you took his enhanced smell into consideration. "Do...do you need help?" He asked sort of bashfully. He took the bowl from your hand gently and mixed the dye with the brush. He cringed slightly from the smell, but he was ready to push through it to help you.
"Could you get the back for me? I don't think I got all of it" you turned around and showed him the back of your head and he bit back a laugh when he saw you missed a section of hair.
"Yeah, I got it, baby." he just told himself that he was painting... sort of? He really didn't know what he was doing, but he didn't want to mess up, so he just really lathered the dye on your hair and tried to not get it all over your skin. When he was done, he set the bowl down and tapped your shoulders, "Okay, I think I'm done now what?" You explained that you needed to set a timer and that you'd wash it out after it goes off. He nods and sets the timer for you.
He likes to think he is a patient man after living all of his years, but those 30 minutes felt like 30 years. Once the timer finally went off, he helped you wash your hair and watched as you dried and styled it. He was always excited to see how you ended up doing your hair but this time he was even more excited to see how it turned out and once you showed him how it turned out he couldn't help but feel pride knowing he was the one who helped you.
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baby-tini · 3 days
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Hi Tini, how are you? Are you sleeping well? You're posting so much (not that it's bad, I love reading your hcs, but be careful with overwork). I wanted to make a request 👉👈. I have the impression that Bonten!Mikey looks much thinner than the other versions of Mikey, so I have a hc that he doesn't eat well because of depression (almost an ED). So I wanted to see him and Kanto!Mikey (after all, Bonten is his future) with a gf who tries to make sure they have 3 meals a day, eat good portions... I really think that sharing a meal is something that is good for the body and the heart, so I wanted to see them like this.
Kanto!Mikey-
He understands that you mean this kind of treatment in a sweet way, but he's rather annoyed too tell you the truth, he's a busy man with a gang too run, he has a lot of things too do and when you're constantly nagging at him too eat and too sleep, he gets snappy, but he will appreciate it when he's in his office eating a hot, home-cooked meal by you, especially when you make either Taiyaki or Dorayaki, those never fail too put him in a better mood. He really likes when you massage his shoulders as he relaxes, he's severely tense and his muscles are just screaming for a break with all the fighting he does and all the stress he's under as a gang leader really doesn't help him a single bit, not at all, but when you're straddling his back and leaving kisses on his shoulders as you lather his skin in pretty smelling oils that he claims too hate so much. He won't eat three times a day, but he will eat twice and he expects that too be good enough for you because if it's good enough for him, he expects it too be good for you too. Although... if you bribe him with sweets, he's willing too... co-promise with you about the three meals a day thing. He does like too sit down and have a break, so when he does have time, he'll have you sit with him and eat as you ask him about his day, it's nice too just be able too sit with you as he relaxes, a comfortable silence settling as you think of other things too talk about with him. Watching as you tilt your head in contemplation for your next question. One way too get him too eat all the food you put on his plate is too get him engrossed in the tv, he literally won't pay attention to anything but the show that he's highly engrossed in. He won't even realise that all the food is gone. He's truly like a little puppy when he tilts his head at the empty plate.
Bonten!Mikey-
He'll only eat when you feed it to him, and you have too sit on his lap, or else he'll look you dead in the eye and pout like a child as he pushes the plate away from him. I also mean this quite literally as well, you'll have too pick up the utensil and feed him or else he'll just refuse and he holds out for quite a long time, going days without eating because you didn't give it to him. He is quite skinny, it's mostly because he doesn't have time too actually sit down and have a meal and other times, he just doesn't care too eat because he's too tired too pick up a fork- muchless make himself something too eat, so if you cook for him and feed him at that, he's already bought a ring. While he doesn't show you that he appreciates what you do, he does adore that you do it. For you too take time out of your day too pamper him with warm cooked meals, especially if it's food he's never had before, it feels like a more intimate amount of care for him, because while yes, kisses and hugs are nice and he adores when you do that for him, cooking him something when you know he doesn't have time just makes him feel a little more... seen. He will use this to his advantage though, getting you too do more things for him, as in, running him a bath, he really likes when you put bubbles in there as well, he prefers you get in with him, but he understands if you have stuff too do, although that won't stop his whining, not even slightly, or if you do the cute little thing and feed him chocolate strawberries while he bathes, he's always wanted you too do it, but he's never gonna ask so you better pick up on his lack of signals.
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all-pacas · 2 days
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OKAY. 13 AND CHASE IN AFTER HOURS THO
The fact that when 13 needs help, she calls Chase. Why does she call him? Why doesn't she call someone else? She needs someone to deliver her a portable ultrasound, and okay, you could argue Foreman is a bad call because he's her ex and would pry. That House would just refuse. Taub would have been a good pick tbh, he would drop it off and just go home no questions asked. But no, she calls Chase
(And I love that call. "You doing anything?" "Oh, yeah, I'm just about to go out," Chase lies blatantly, asleep in bed with a book on the crusades on his chest. Like the loser he is. I don't know that it was done well but I love how S7 examines his Dumb Whore tendencies: it isn't really him, it's a rebound. He does it again when he gets stabbed.)
And of course the second he shows up he immediately sees through 13's excuses and pushes his way into the apartment. Because we love Chase's observation skills triumphing over his laziness.
13 tells Chase the prison backstory. Like! It's kind of glossed over. She hasn't told this to anyone else. She doesn't hide it. I killed my brother. It wasn't murder. Chase is just pacing, you just know he's twigged as hell, he's so anxious all at once as she tries to brush past it. The idea that 13 kind of had to tell him to explain Darrien's presence but she's also — House is the only other person who knows.
CHASE: Have you talked to anybody about it? I mean, are you okay?
Like we know this immediately triggered something in Chase, but 13 doesn't, and seeing him so anxious and pacing and ignoring the bleeding dying woman as 13 works, it's just. Incredible. It's good. He cares immediately, he's relating to this immediately.
But I love seeing them work together. Like they just immediately go in sync, Chase offering suggestions and 13 doing the work. They're just. It's nice.
SIDE NOTE: House says he called everyone before he called Cuddy. We see him call 13 and Taub. Chase is off picking up drugs, we don't see House call him, but like. He had to have called Chase first, right? Did Chase not pick up? Did he blow him off because he already was dealing with someone bleeding to death in someone's apartment??
The way they fight oh my god. The way 13 just is trying to fucking murder Chase. She punches him, she claws and shoves him, and then he just clocks her and stares horrified as she falls to the floor. Like it's an actual fight, it's brutal, it's so good. They hurt one another. I can't explain it but I love how brutal it is, that they both walk away with bruises, that it isn't pretty. Incredible. Amazing scene.
CHASE: You were defending your friend beyond all rationality, granting her the right to die in your bedroom. Was it really all because of a promise? 13: That word means something to some people. CHASE: Not that much. […] CHASE: You promised your brother you'd euthanize him and you think you won't feel bad about it as long as you can blame it on the promise. That's why you have this twisted obligation to keep all promises… or your carefully constructed defense mechanism could crumble down. 13: I saved my brother from a lot of pain.
!! Chase keeps bringing it up, he keeps bringing up her brother, not out of I can't believe you did a murder or I can't believe you went to prison but: you must hate yourself. He's calling her out on her coping mechanisms, he's calling her out on her guilt, and it's so fucking clear what he means is I get it but he's not saying that part. 13 killed her brother and now has to believe she did the right thing, no matter what, no matter how she feels. She's taking away her own agency: it was for a promise, it was his decision, she had nothing to do with it, it's fine, it doesn't feel bad. Chase killed Dibala and told himself it was for the greater good, it was morally just, it was the right thing to do, it doesn't feel bad. And it nearly destroyed him. And so he's pushing and pushing at it. He never goes 13 went to prison! he never goes it's so crazy you did that! Whenever he brings it up it's only in the context of how worried he is about her. Has she spoken to someone? Is she coping? Is this healthy? Is she okay? He's so worried. He cares so much.
I adore 13 and Chase running out of ideas with Darrien and calling dad. Most sibling coded of all time. Just. And the fact that House doesn't allude to also being in the hospital, actively bleeding and in pain, just, yes, we gotta help bail you two idiots out. Beautiful moment.
Chase getting 13 ice and coffee and still feeling guilty for punching her out, and 13 not blaming him at all. Like. You know. Don't beat people up. But in this one case I totally approve. Because I love it.
13: Darrien had to shoot that kid. It was the right thing. Completely justified. But it didn't matter. She destroyed her life trying to forget. I'm afraid that's what's gonna happen to me. CHASE: You really should talk to someone. 13: I've talked to a therapist. It didn't help. CHASE: Well, maybe you should talk to someone who isn't a therapist. 13: Do you really think you have any idea what it's like to live with something like this? CHASE: Let's grab a coffee.
Since the second Chase found out, this is what it's been leading towards. I love that he doesn't answer, he doesn't say a thing, but this is what he's been thinking all episode, why he's been pushing, why he's been so worried and caring: talk to me. Tell me you're not okay. Tell me everything isn't fine. And 13 holds it back until the end of the case, until it's over and she has no distractions. It's not at all clear Chase himself has talked to someone about Dibala, btw. He probably hasn't.
And how insane is that. He never told Foreman or House; they figured it out. He told Cameron: she left him. (Imagine being 13, hearing this. Realizing the timeline. She went to their wedding. What did she think happened when Cameron just … left? How quickly does she figure it out now?) House told Chase to talk to someone, Chase tried Confessing, but whenever he's tried to tell anyone it's gone terribly for him. I don't think he has talked to anyone. But he repeats House's advice to 13: talk to someone. (Talk to me.) He's offering her what he never got. And their situations are different, hers is much more sympathetic and easy to accept than his. Chase never goes I never got help or you have nothing to feel bad about or implies he doesn't think it's a big deal: his entire reaction is just empathy. He wants 13 to get what he didn't get, he wants to help.
The song that plays over the end of the episode is Bon Iver's Flume. And as much as you can apply it to House, and Cuddy, and Wilson, and all of that — it's a song about feeling isolated, feeling alone and being afraid of letting go. Of holding on to things that stain and hurt. The lyrics that play while 13 and Chase are having their coffee in the conference room, though:
i wear my garment/so it shows now you know
And I just! I love! Them! The ways 13 and Chase are so alike and so damaged, the way Chase reacts with empathy and care and wants her to have what he didn't, the way they know one another's secrets and worst moments and rely on one another so easily. 13's secrecy is a meme, in and out of universe, but Chase is absolutely no better: he won't even admit he's Catholic when talking to a nun. They're private to faults, they mask by sleeping around and taking risks and pretending not to care, they hide their hurts and then somehow, they punch one another in the face and know everything. I'm just. I'm so obsessed with them. I want them like this always.
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clarisse0o · 1 day
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Camp Wiegman-Part 78
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Alternative Universe: Military School
Words: 5K
Masterlist
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Sunday, April 10th – Manchester Airport.
I've never been so excited to go on vacation. I'm sitting next to Lucy, holding her hand. We're waiting for our flight. Jenni and Alexia dropped us off an hour ago after we ate together, and now we're alone. It's soothing to be just the two of us, especially after the past few weeks.
"Excited?" Lucy whispers to me.
"Oh yes."
"It will be well-deserved."
We exchange a smile. After nonstop studying, tests, mock exams, and even working at the gallery with Grace for two Saturdays... Yes, I think it will be well-deserved. I've worked hard, but I don't regret it. It helped lift a huge weight off my shoulders. At least I've secured my spot at art school for next year. That's something. Now, as agreed with Lucy, I must step away from my studies for two weeks. It's difficult because my diploma is still on my mind. I worked hard, and I think I did quite well on my mock exams this week, but you never really know. In the meantime, I promised to make the most of these two weeks, so I’m trying not to think about it. The only thing I need to focus on is Lucy and our families.
"I was thinking we could go camping," I shared with Lucy.
"Camping, huh?"
"Yeah. We've talked about it so much. It would be a great opportunity. Or at least spend the evening on the beach! Oh my God, I’ve missed that so much," I said excitedly. "With a campfire, marshmallows, and—"
"Hey," Lucy laughed. "Relax. We'll have all the time to do whatever you want. It seems work has gotten to your head, huh?" she teased, running her hand through my hair.
"Are you making fun of me?" I asked, pouting.
"Oh no," she smiled mischievously.
"That was the deal, remember? I had to give it my all until vacation and then calm down afterward."
"That’s true. You didn’t sneak any study materials into your suitcase, did you? Maybe I should have checked."
"Stop," I giggled. "I wouldn’t do that."
"Oh no. That's not like you at all."
I laughed harder and playfully slapped her thigh at her irony. It's true I thought about it, but I didn't do it. I really want to enjoy this relaxing vacation. After all, we're going back home.
"Hey, none of that," she said, intertwining our fingers after my playful slap. "We have to endure almost 3 hours together in the air, so let’s not start hitting each other."
"True, but we'll sleep through half of it, so you don’t have to worry."
"Speak for yourself. You're a real napper."
I smiled. It's hard to argue with that. I enjoy being calm in moments like this. Finally, boarding time arrives. This is going to be a long trip. My six-hour flight back to Barcelona will seem like nothing compared to the nineteen hours we're about to face, with a layover, no less. We settle into our seats after passing through security. It's a shame, but I won’t see Shay here. She explained that she tries to be on the Barcelona flight as often as possible because her boyfriend lives there.
"Do you take this trip often?" I asked my girlfriend, gazing out of the window.
I’m eager to take off, but also nervous. I've never liked flying to Portugal. I wonder how Lucy feels about it. I remember she's not particularly fond of flying either.
"I think I’ve told you before," she answered. "I visit my parents twice a year… although, that might change next year."
"Why? Because of me? Please don't say that. I haven’t even met your parents yet, and they're going to hate me."
"Why are you getting so worked up?" she laughed. "Of course not. The venue will take up a lot of my time. I'll have other things to do than visit them. They'll just have to come to me for once."
"Okay," I murmured.
"Are you still nervous about meeting them?"
"A little…"
"Everything will be fine, I promise."
I smiled as she brought my hand to her lips. She makes me feel like everything's going to be okay. It’s crazy.
"Come on, get some rest. The trip is long, so you might as well recharge."
"Doesn’t it bother you...?"
"Sweetheart, you’ve been pushing yourself hard for three weeks. I know you’re tired. Rest, this is your time."
"Okay," I murmured. "Promise you won’t let me sleep too long though? I don’t want to leave you alone for the entire trip."
"Sweetheart, don’t worry about that. Sleep. We’ll have plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company when we land."
She nudged me to rest my head against her. I smiled and settled into a comfortable position. It’s true, a little rest wouldn’t hurt. I’ve been going non-stop. It’s time to relax, but before that... she’s right. I need some rest.
"Thank you," I murmured as I watched the takeoff through the window.
My eyelids felt heavy after half an hour. I tried to stay awake to keep Lucy company, but she seemed to avoid talking to help me fall asleep. It didn’t take long.
Sunday, April 10th, – Lisbon Airport.
It's either early or late... I’m not sure anymore. Now I remember why I hate jet lag. The good thing is the flight made me forget the time and regain some energy. I feel great, and I think Lucy does too. We’ve got silly smiles on our faces. We know we’ll finally be able to live safely here. We were so happy to return to our homeland. As we enter the terminal, I immediately spot my grandpa. Lucy must have sensed my excitement because she released my hand without saying a word, letting me run toward him. I immediately hug him tightly.
"I'm so happy to see you again! I missed you."
"And I missed you."
We pull apart, and I turn toward Lucy, who’s now by my side again. Before I even have time to introduce them, my grandpa asks:
"Well, is this the lucky one?" he says with a grin.
"Yes. Grandpa, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is Charlie Batlle, my grandfather."
"Nice to finally meet you. Ona’s told me a lot about you."
She smiles genuinely, though I can tell there’s a bit of tension behind it. My grandpa chuckles and catches her off guard by giving her a big hug.
"Forget formalities with me, dear. It’s a pleasure to meet my granddaughter’s girlfriend."
I smile in return. I didn’t expect this meeting to go any other way. My grandpa has such a big heart. When I told him who I was coming with, he was thrilled. I expected nothing less from him.
"How was the flight?" he asks as we start walking.
"Long, but overall good."
"Oh yes, it’s quite a haul. But we’re glad to finally be here."
I let them chat as I take in my surroundings. Just feeling the ground beneath my feet is a pleasure. My legs had started to go numb from sitting for so long. The sun shines through the large windows, making me smile. I feel like a ball of energy. It's wonderful to be back, but also hard. The last time I was here was for my father’s funeral... I don’t have time to dwell on it, though, as we grab our bags and head outside. The weather feels nice. A bit cool, but I’m not surprised given the time. It's early, and this time of year, we’re in autumn. I think we’ll be lucky. It feels mild, and we’ll be able to do lots of outdoor activities like we talked about on the plane.
"How’s the weather?" I ask my grandpa for his opinion.
- "I think you're going to be lucky in the next few days," he replies with a smile.
- "Great."
We walk through the parking lot, looking for his car. I spot it immediately, remembering it perfectly.
- "Oh, you still have your old pickup!? I can't believe it!"
I rush over to it, making my girlfriend laugh. I've always loved this car. My grandfather used to let me sit in the back whenever we took short trips. I expected him to have gotten rid of it by now.
- "It's a nice car," Lucy comments, running her hand over the bodywork. "1970 Chevrolet, right?"
- "Yes, that's right," my grandfather says, surprised. "You like cars?"
- "She loves them," I chime in before Lucy can respond. "She's a huge fan. If there's anyone you can talk to about your old cars, it's definitely her."
- "She's exaggerating," my girlfriend replies, a bit embarrassed. "I know a little thanks to my dad. He loves them, so I guess I inherited that from him."
- "Do you know a bit about mechanics?" he continues. "Because I think this old thing could use a little tune-up."
- "Oh. Well, I can take a look if you'd like. I restored my first car with my dad, and it was about the same age, so I think I can manage."
- "Really?" I say, surprised. "I didn't know that."
I knew she liked cars, but I never knew where it came from. Now I do. I think these holidays are going to be a way for us to learn more about each other. After all, we’re returning to our roots.
- "I wouldn't be as interesting if I told you everything all at once," she teases, making my grandfather laugh.
- "She's right! That's how I kept your grandmother for all those years."
He adores my girlfriend, it's obvious. I couldn't be happier. His opinion matters a lot to me. It's like my dad accepting her.
- "What was her name?" Lucy asks.
- "Mandie."
- "That's a beautiful name. We’ll have to keep it in mind for later."
I blush at this comment, which is clearly not a joke. It's obvious she means it. I think back to the conversation we had at the restaurant. She really does want to have kids with me someday. Finally, we pack our things into the back. Once we're done, my grandfather hands the keys to my girlfriend.
- "Oh, um..."
She looks at me, unsure of what to do. I shrug with a little smile.
- "I wouldn’t say no if I were you. You must be dying to, and let’s just say he doesn’t let just anyone drive his baby..."
- "Oh yes, that's for sure," confirms my grandfather.
- "I don’t even know the way," she tries to argue.
- "Well, we’ll guide you," I reply. "Come on, I'll sit next to you."
I snatch the keys from my grandfather and drag Lucy to encourage her to do it. I sit in the middle to stay by her side. I can tell she's feeling a bit awkward behind the wheel, but that quickly fades once we leave the airport. I smile because it's clear she's enjoying herself. The engine purrs, showing its age, but it still drives smoothly. It just needs a good clean-up. On the other side, I can see my grandfather is happy too. He was so excited to know we were coming. It's been a long time since anyone visited him. I know he knows a lot of people here, but it must be tough losing all your loved ones and being left without family nearby. In any case, he's in great shape. He hasn’t stopped talking the entire ride. I'm really glad I got some sleep on the plane; otherwise, I wouldn’t have handled this conversation as well given the time of day. On the other hand, I'm enjoying seeing Lisbon again. It feels like home. I smile when Lucy parks in front of the family house. It’s a little home that I’ve always been particularly fond of. We’re far from the city, and there’s a small beach just behind it. I’ve always found this place to be peaceful. Lucy must think the same, judging by the way she looks at the house with wonder.
- "You must be starving," says my grandfather as he gets out of the car. "I’ll go make you both some breakfast. Ona, why don’t you show her around the house while you wait?"
- "Yeah," I say, snapping out of my thoughts. "Yeah, of course. Thanks."
We get out as well, and I smile as I watch Lucy taking it all in. It feels strange to see her here, far from our obligations, but especially at my place. I finally feel like her girlfriend and not just her student.
- "Not bad, huh?" I ask, nudging her playfully.
- "It’s beautiful, indeed," she says with a small smile. "Is this the family home?"
- "Yeah... This was my dad’s last home," I confess.
- "Really?" she raises an eyebrow.
- "Yeah. He came back to live here after... my grandmother passed away and my parents divorced."
- "I see," she nods. "It’s a lovely place, though," she whispers. "You must have a lot of memories here."
- "Oh yes..." I breathe.
I squeal in surprise as we’re interrupted by a ball of fur that literally jumps on me. Lucy bursts out laughing and crouches down to greet the dog, who quickly forgets about me.
- "I can’t believe it! A little petting, and he’s off to someone else," I grumble, making my girlfriend smile.
- "Good thing humans aren’t like that. So, aren’t you going to introduce me?" she teases. "It’s an Australian Shepherd, isn’t it?"
I laugh, shaking my head.
- "Yes, that’s right. Let me introduce you to Buzz, the youngest member of the family. Well, sort of!" I giggle.
- "Wow. He seems like such a sweet dog."
I tilt my head with a smile, noticing she’s clearly no longer paying attention to me at the moment. Oh, so she really loves dogs, huh? Another thing I didn’t know. I crouch down too and finally manage to get the dog’s attention, along with Lucy’s.
- "Do you like dogs?" she asks me.
- "I do, yes. I didn’t know you were such a fan."
- "Oh, I love them, but they need a lot of attention, unfortunately."
- "That’s true."
I start petting Buzz too. I missed him. My dad wanted to get a dog so my grandfather wouldn’t be alone when he was away on missions. My grandfather wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but in the end, he’s the one most attached to Buzz.
- "Maybe we could consider getting one."
I look up at Lucy in surprise.
- "Really?"
- "Well, why not? Maybe not right away, but once we see how our schedule is next year. If everything works out, we could get one."
- "Definitely, yes!"
I nod enthusiastically, making Lucy laugh. It would be a great first step toward commitment.
- "Alright," she says, standing up.
- "I should really show you around the house," I announce, standing up too.
We grab our bags and head inside. It feels strange being here again... The last time I was, my dad was still around. It’s bittersweet because I’ve always loved his rustic style. Lucy must have noticed my change in mood because she gently places her hand on my back.
- "Will you show me our room?"
I smile shyly and nod. From where we’re standing, we can see the living room, but I lead her upstairs to our left instead. Lucy follows closely behind. The house isn’t very big, but it has three bedrooms and a bathroom just on the upper floor. Mine is at the end. When we walk through the door, we’re greeted by a room flooded with light from a large bay window that opens onto a small terrace, almost as small as my room itself. It’s barely big enough for a bed and a wardrobe, but it’s more than enough. I chose this room because I fell in love with the view of the sea. I’ve lost count of how many times I left the curtains open just to wake up to that view, accompanied by the sound of the waves. It feels like paradise. Nothing has been moved, yet I can tell everything is clean. My grandfather must have taken the time to tidy up.
"It’s lovely," she whispers, pulling me out of my memories. "Is that your dad? »
I nod as she points to a picture of us. To be honest, it's the last one we took together. We were in the back, by the sea, and he tried to throw me into the water when we had just arrived here. In the end, it made for a beautiful shot, taken by my grandfather.
"You look a lot like him," she says with a small, sad smile. "How about we take a walk this afternoon? We can visit his grave while we're at it."
"Really?" I reply, surprised. "I mean, I don't want to burden you with that. I would have done it another time, like when you go for your morning run."
"Don't be silly. I'd like to come with you, if that's okay."
I smile softly and nod. I didn't want to pressure her, but if it's her idea, I won't say no.
"Okay... Thank you."
"It's nothing. You seem uneasy... Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah. It's just strange to be here..."
"You haven't been back since?"
"No," I admit. "We came back for the funeral, but..."
I take a deep breath. She has a right to know, after all.
"I didn't have the courage to set foot here again. I made my mom book us hotel rooms."
She nods in understanding.
"Come here."
She opens her arms, and I immediately snuggle into her embrace. She kisses my forehead, holding me tightly.
"It’ll be okay, alright? He wouldn't want to see you like this."
"I know... But it's stronger than me."
"Okay," she says, pulling back. "You know what? We didn't come here to mope around, so... How about we plan that stargazing night tonight instead? We can always take that walk another day. I can see you need a distraction."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah. If I'd known there was a beach right behind the house, I would've agreed to this sooner. Might as well enjoy it while the weather's nice. It might not last long."
She's amazing... She always finds ways to lift my spirits. I smile and nod. There's no rush now that we're here, but I really like this idea to start things off.
"Great... And what do you say we help your grandfather now? I can already smell waffles, and honestly, I’m starving."
I laugh and nod. If there’s one thing that didn’t go well during the trip, it’s the meals over the past few hours. A good breakfast will do us good.
"Yeah... You're right. You’ll be impressed. His waffles are the best."
"Oh, really? Better than mine?"
"Um... Hard to say... But yes. I’d say so," I tease, grinning.
"Oh, really? I might need to remind you otherwise..."
"Wh-"
I don’t even get to finish my sentence before she attacks me with tickles. I burst out laughing, squirming to escape her grasp, but it's no use. I accidentally pull her down onto the bed, but she still keeps control. I tend to forget just how strong she is.
"S-stop, p-please."
"Oh, now you’re begging?"
I can barely catch my breath. Lucy slows down, but her laughter still echoes in my head.
"So? Are you going to admit my waffles are the best?"
I try to breathe, but giggles still escape. Her fingers hover threateningly over my stomach, as if daring me to give the wrong answer. I grin, deciding to play along.
"I’m not changing my mind," I say with exaggerated seriousness.
Her mock-offended expression makes me smile like an idiot. I love when we’re like this together.
"Oh yeah? And what should I do to change your mind, huh? Oh, I think I know..."
I laugh as her lips brush against my neck.
"Please. You can’t torture me like this."
"Oh really?" she whispers. "I think I’m the only one who has the right to torture you like this."
I wrap my arms around her neck. I can’t help it. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to start tickling me again, this time under my shirt. The sneaky move leaves me laughing uncontrollably, unable to defend myself.
"S-stop, stop! Okay, okay, you win! Yours are the best! Yours are the best!"
The torture stops at my pleas. The next moment, her lips meet mine, and I immediately relax. I laugh as I try to catch my breath. She really is the one I need, no doubt about it.
"See? That wasn’t so hard."
"Girls?" my grandfather calls out. "Everything’s ready, if you’re hungry."
"Well, look at that. We didn’t even get to help your grandpa."
"He’ll survive," I murmur before kissing her.
I wrap my legs around her waist, but Lucy doesn't seem to agree. Though she chuckles, she gently pushes them away.
"Sweetheart..."
"What?" I laugh. "He can wait two more minutes."
"Okay," she sighs.
She kisses me back. I smile as I feel her hand caressing my stomach. She doesn’t even realize how much she drives me crazy... or maybe she does, judging by the way I move my hips against her.
"Not here, and definitely not now," she teases. "We need to go down."
"But!"
I groan in protest, making her laugh softly. She’s so adorable, looking at me with her head tilted. Her eyes drift down my body, and I realize my shirt is pushed up to my chest. I quickly pull it down, which brings her gaze back to my face.
"If I don’t get to, neither do you."
"Oh, you’re like that now?"
"Yep. Too bad for you. You’re missing out."
I get up from the bed and walk down the hallway, purposely swaying my hips for her to watch. I can hear her laughing behind me, which makes me turn around to stick my tongue out at her. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to catch up and grab my butt at that exact moment.
"Don’t worry, I plan to take care of that during this vacation," she whispers to me.
"Really?" I reply, breathless. "If you stick to your rule of no hooking up under family roofs, we won’t be doing much of anything."
"Who said it would be in a bed?"
Her comment stops me at the top of the stairs. Did I hear that right? Where did my innocent girlfriend go!? It’s her turn to tease me with a playful smile as she walks into the living room where my grandfather is waiting for us. Oh my God. We’ve only just started our vacation, but I don’t know why, I feel like this will be the best one we’ve ever had. Then again, we came here... there's no other word. We understand each other, we live together. I’ve never had it so easy with anyone else. My father was right. In life, you only meet one true love. It doesn’t matter how many people come before or even after... but there’s only one, and you feel it instantly. You just have to be lucky enough to find them. I think I knew from the first day what Lucy would mean to me. I was scared at first. After all, we each tried to push the other away with all our strength... But once again, my father was right. You can’t avoid the inevitable. Fate wanted us to be together, and here we are. One thing’s for sure, I’m not going to repeat my parents' mistakes. Lucy is going to be my priority, and I’ll make sure to nurture our relationship. It’s my turn to show her she deserves the world. Smiling, I join her as she’s already deep in conversation with my grandfather about old cars. Yeah, this woman is perfect.
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captainmera · 2 days
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Words can't describe how much I love your modern au for the folktale trio. As always your Evelyn is the skrunkly scrimbo of all time, and Caleb as an exhausted barista is just perfect. Any lore you care to share about this au?
Sure! :D
And thank you! Haha, it's rather fun actually! And yes, skrunkly little powerhouse, there she goes. :3
Modern AU character synopses and plot ideas(?) Under cut!
EVELYN:
Evelyn is fighting with her mum and runs away to live in an abandoned tower. Now that she's trying to live independently, her older sisters advise her to become a bounty hunter (since she's so powerful, it should be easy! ..probably!)
And, because she's got a special interest in the human realm, she dives head first into chasing criminals who try to hide there.
Evelyn basically does what Eda was doing after she lost most of her magical power. Having to do odd jobs and hunt bounties. Except, for Ev, she takes jobs she can do in the human realm. She finds collectables to sell to shops (like tibbles), and hunts bounties.
She also tries to figure out why Gravesfield got so many little portal holes? It's as if someone in Gravesfield is opening them.. hm!
CALEB:
Caleb is a struggling barista at the coffee shop, who's raising his little brother and had to drop out of high school to work.
He's depressed, hates everything, and one sad night he uncovers a demon disguised as a human - who tries to kill him. He's rescued by a "local" strange and homeless girl (Evelyn), and he has now made himself enemy number one to a criminal gang by picking up a magical item (a disc with a moon on it) from the now-beaten-and-captured demon.
He still likes to carve wood, and is a bit of a shy artist. He doesn't believe his figurines or wood artwork is of any worth or interest.
He's also a closeted bisexual who wants to be out but terrified of being shunned from the community (the church) that helped him when he was/is struggling financially. He owes them a lot of gratitude for getting him his low-wage job and birthday/Christmas gifts for Philip via their support programs. As well as their poverty support.
He feels very indebt to the church (and they kind of use it against him too) and he feels stuck.
PHILIP:
Philip, the school weirdo who will not shut up about ghosts and demons. He runs a mewtube vlog about demonic beings and monsters. His online name is "Belos."
He's got no irl friends, loves horror video games and listens to the soundtrack from Zombie Deer the musical on repeat.
Philip makes his own ghost hunting gear, and goes exploring old abandoned places to hunt ghosts, try to summon demons, open portals, etc. To his knowledge, it has never worked...... to his knowledge, that is.
THE WITTEBANE BROTHERS:
Their parents are dead. Caleb stepped up to the role, and it's a lot to deal with. The brothers never talk about their parents. Their house (like the Noceda home) is full of pictures and half-finished projects. The brothers are in grief limbo. Caleb avoids and just keeps-calm-and-carries-on, Philip uses escapism and secludes himself.
Caleb has been gut punched hard by life's reality-check fists and has not recovered. He's more or less she'd and dropped his hobies and dreams because "that's just life, rat-girl. You either adjust and fit in, or, buh-bye!"
He unfortunately takes this pessimistic and depressive attitude out on Philip, creating a divide between the brothers. (Like Camila and Luz, except Caleb is less gentle about it)
Caleb wants Philip to start living in the hard, real world. Philip, however, wants to stay frozen in the fantasy that; if ghosts are real, then their parents aren't truly gone, and things can go back to how it was before. Kind of. Almost.
"How it was before" being him and Caleb watching monster movies together, where Caleb was just an older brother and not an adult-too-soon that boss him around. "Before" being when Caleb was happy, and didn't sit up late at night reading bills and planning the next meal with coupons.
Philip doesn't want to be the "normal" Caleb asks of him, because to him; that normal doesn't exist anymore.
While Caleb tries to conform too much to his new hopeless mindset that he has no control at all, anyway, so why fight it at all?
Philip is turning 15 soon.
FOLKLORE TRIO DYNAMIC
After saving him, and introducing him to a whole new reality of witches, demons and magic.. Caleb loses his marbles a little. Life is more nuanced than he thought - maybe he's not so stuck after all. Maybe there's alternatives?
Evelyn needs a human guide, and in exchange for his help, he gets jewels he can trade in for cash. And he gladly shakes her hand on that.
Now he's got money for bills, food, and necessities, and he can even save money for Philip to go to college. This is going to be Calebs birthday present to Philip. To give him the future and life he never could have.
Evelyn is happy to have a guide, and friend. But as she becomes closer friends with the Wittebane brothers, she discovers there's trouble in the household.
Philip is also suspicious of her. To him, and the locals of Gravesfield, she's a crazy homeless girl who chases random citizens yelling about them being demon criminals. As well as stealing miscellaneous things from dumpsters. Like broken toasters and yoga mats.
A girl whom Caleb has befriended because she ate his customers' leftovers. Philip is less than keen on their budding friendship, and his brother's apparent crush on her. Philip, in the beginning, feels like she's taking advantage of Caleb’s good heart. But discovers soon enough that she's actually really nice, and is more than happy to talk about demons and magic with him.
ANTAGONIST PLOT: EVELYNS MUM.
Ev is a powerful witch, but has a bailsack condition where the sack is too large (that's why she's a powerhouse), but it has a physical affect on her. She can get lethargic or "turn gray" as she calls it (like when a basilisk sucks a witch empty on magic)
Evelyn wants to be a researcher and an author. She wants to learn from the human realm and use their inventions and adaptability to help the demon realm.
Evelyn's mum doesn't want her to go her own way.
Despite knowing her daughter's condition, she still wants her to utilise her power. She's trying to turn Ev to various plant-magic corporations to make mass production of crops, to help fight the famines.
Evelyn wants to understand how humans do things because they have no magic and they still sustain somehow.
She has a hard time arguing with her mother. She wants to appease her (find a human invention replacenent) and also go her own way. But it's just not how things goes.
Caleb becomes Evelyn's one defender and protector.
While standing up for her, he also realises hiw he's been treating Philip. Telling him who to be and how to fit in, instead ofvtrying to understand why Philip needs to escape into his hoby so much.
Evelyn's mother does not like Caleb, and doesn't like how the human is able to bark back to her - armed with reason and solid arguments, too.
She's been trying to guilt Evelyn into shouldering the whole world, more or less, by making her sacrifice her happinessand well being to keep famine away.
Which, obviously, hits Caleb close to home. And he makes an enemy out of Mrs.Clawthorne.
Mrs.Clawthorne wants Calebs influence on Evelyn gone. Caleb must be removed.
She discovers that there's someone else who doesn't like Caleb, and wants to get him (caleb got their disc after all.) And strikes a deal with them.
ATAGONIST PLOT: THE DISC
Evelyn takes both the brothers to her realm at some point, to hide them from the criminal that has it in for Caleb. Not knowing her mother is assisting the criminal.
In exchange of getting rid of Caleb, they can have the disc.
This is when Pip and Ev discovers that Caleb HAS the disc in the first place. And has been using it as a mirror decor in his bedroom. To him, it was just a keepsake from the first time he met Evelyn, and to commemorate that the night actually happened.
Philip has, at that point, gathered enough knowledge to know what the disc actually is: from what he knows, it supposedly grants wishes?
And he wants to use it to bring their parents back.
--------------
AND THAT'S ABOUT IT SO FAR?? :,D
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abra-ka-dammit · 2 days
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Yesterday morning Zelda cat begun straining to poop. Since she's still unable to breathe very well, the exertion was making her breathless and she had to keep laying down. She was able to get some out and had scooted around and matted it up on her butt so i cleaned and shaved her rear. Her butthole was swollen. Then she went into the still-standing oxygen kennel. I watched her for a while, specifically her butthole, as she laid on her side panting and trying to push. I watched her anus get wide and strain against a solid wall of brown that seemed to be making no progress past it. It sucked back in as she gave up, but she began to relax. I thought maybe with time more poop would move forward and help her out, or maybe it'd get out enough that i could manually remove it for her. Instead, she stayed in that kennel the rest of the day, trying to poop, failing with 0 progress, and then laying helplessly panting. I gave her albuterol over and over, but no matter how well she recovered, when she tried to poop again, it just triggered another fit.
So I took her to the ER with the hopes they would be able to remove the blockage and we could just go home. But the vet who talked to me sorta (metaphorically) slapped me back to reality. If she ever got constipated again (which would surely happen eventually) this would happen again. Any time anything happens that requires her to put forth too much effort, it would make this happen again. They had put her back in oxygen and told me if we proceeded she would likely need to stay a couple days etc., just to go home and be stuck in that kennel again.
Even if I could afford it....I couldn't make her go through that all again. The still-healing tooth punctures and claw scratches on my right hand/arm are a testament to how much she hated it.
Not that it was especially cheap to put her down, either. I guess in part because I obviously wanted her ashes returned rather than dumped among those of countless other late pets. Still though, almost $900??? Like sorry your beloved pet is gonna die but first u gotta pay out the ass to do it this way rather than letting her suffocate herself to death at home. I had to split it across my carecredit, almost-full credit card and my pitiful bank balance, but I managed. That said, if anyone has a buck to spare to help me recover from it a little faster, I would really appreciate it.
https://ko-fi.com/nocato
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sunnysagereblog · 2 days
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(Credit to @tiny-tk for making this.)
1. I was 18.
2. A discord server I was in had started an agere channel, and I was curious what agere was, so I did some research, and the rest is history.
3. Kiddo, kid, small fry, sweetie, shorty, and tiny.
4. A little. I love mlp music and bubblegum pop music like E. T. by Toy-Box.
5. Dekomori from Love, Chunibyo, and Other Delusions, Filo from Rise of the Shield Hero, and Milim from That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime. I don't really relate to them when I'm not regressed.
6. Involuntarily. I've tried to force it. It does work as well.
7. Music and/or certain anime like Black Clover, Love, Chunibyo, and Other Delusions, and Madoka Magica. Other than that, it's kinda random.
8. I want a real caregiver so bad. Currently, all I have is fictional caregivers which is nice but I'd still love a real one.
9. Nothing official. I do have genuine reason to believe I have ADHD and Autism due to extensive research I've done on the topics to become more educated about them, but it's not official, so take that with a grain of salt.
10. Kinda. My brother and few friends know, I even have a best friend who age regresses. I'm definitely more open about it online tho.
11. Home. It's safe at home.
12. Spelling things incorrectly. I do have some minor spelling quirks when I'm regressed, but it's very different from what I see most age regressors do.
13. I become a bit more excitable when regressed but also more nervous when I'm alone in a public setting. I'm more outwardly happy when I'm little, unlike when I'm big, I'm more inwardly happy if that makes sense.
14. No. I'm a Christian and don't believe in changing your name or pronouns (no hate to people who do, tho. I still love and respect you regardless)
15. Tumblr and sometimes youtube.
16. I don't know, honestly. Does watching Black Clover count?
17. Green! I love my plants (I really need to water them 😬)
18. Gon from HxH, Akko, and Diana from Little Witch Academia.
19. Fuyu from Blush Blush, Raph from Rottmnt, Sundrop from FNAF, Captain Yami from Black Clover, Kunikida from BSD, and Tfa Optimus Prime.
20. Idk. I was pretty well informed from the beginning.
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spacebagfullofstars · 24 hours
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Evolution X-Men meeting Deadpool for the first time
An idea for the first episode Deadpool would appear in the show. It'd take place during early season 2. I don't have enough ideas to write the whole thing but here's the introduction
After the Brotherhood fled and the old warehouse was empty once more, the X-Men could finally focus on their unexpected guest. Through the darkness where he stood, they could see him sheathing his katanas and stretching his arms.
"Phiii-ew! Nothing like a good workout after a mind-numbingly boring sail home!" He said, rolling his neck and shoulders. "Warms my cold, unfeeling heart to see the streets just as crime-infested as I left them!"
After a second, the man stepped towards them and into the light. The younger members of the X-Men couldn't help, but gasp when he revealed himself to them.
The person who joined their fight was wearing a red and black costume that covered his whole body, including his face. Outside of the twin katanas on his back, he had two gun pouches attached to the sides of a multi-pocketed belt. His white eyes stared at them with unclear intent.
"You?!" While Kitty, Rogue and Kurt were intimidated by his presence, Scott and Jean stood their ground. They appeared to be more disgusted than afraid. Surprisingly, the man seemed to recognise them as well.
"Jeanie! Scottie! Long time no see! Come here and give uncle Deadpool a hug!" He said, spreading his arms. Before he ran at them, Jean used her powers to throw him into the air. His enthusiasm faltered.
"Cold. I guess you don't want all the radical gifts I bough you abroad!" He said, starting to levitate upside down. "Do kids these days still say it? Do they say 'radical'? I hate that word. I hope it'll die out quickly."
"You know this weirdo?" Kitty whispered to them.
"He calls himself Deadpool." Jean stated. "He used to break into the Institute regularly."
"That's all you have to say about little ol' me?" Deadpool interrupted, then traced a line from his eye down his cheek. "You can't see it, but I just shed a sad tear. I thought we were friends."
"We're not-"
"As (I'm pretty sure) my pop used to say, if you want something done right, do it yourself!" The mercenary clapped his hands, interrupting her again. He kicked his legs and pushed himself back up so he could face them properly.
"I go by many names! Deadpool is one, but some prefer to call me the Merc with the Mouth!" He stated, pointing his thumbs at himself. "The world-famous mercenary willing to do any kind of job for a good pay, weapon expert, master of all known fighting styles and three times Champion of Hot Dog Eating in West Virginia! This city used to belong to me, but the merc job is unforgiving and I had to leave it for like twenty years!"
"We haven't seen you in two years." Scott corrected.
"It felt like twenty to me, so it must've been! Now I come back and see that you X-Dorks grew in numbers!" Deadpool continued, then crossed his arms and looked away. "Not that I'm bitter, or anything. I can do so much better than your little rich kid houseclub anyway."
"... Wait, he was an X-Man?!" Rouge asked, baffled.
"Professor tried giving him a chance once." Jean sighed. "He almost blew up the mansion."
"Like that old thing doesn't blow up every other week, am I right, guys?" Deadpool snorted and rose his hand. Outside of the distance between them, no one was willing to give him a high five. He waited a few more seconds and then high fived himself.
"Is it bad that he kinda reminds me of Kurt when he has too much sugar?" Kitty snickered.
"Don't even joke like that!" Kurt didn't like that.
"The only difference is that Kurt isn't..." Scott began, then whistled and swirled his finger around the side of his head.
"I believe the term you're looking for is 'able to think outside the box', three eyes." Deadpool overheard them and air quoted. Without any warning, he disappeared in a small flash of energy.
"What the-?!" Kurt cried out as they all stepped back in surprise. After a second, the mercenary reappeared behind them.
"And who those adorable new faces might be?" His voice startled them all. "No, no, don't tell me! You look like Jessica," He said, pointing at surprised Kitty. "Your super power is shrinking. You look like Bridget and you love being different!" He pointed at Rogue, making her scoff at him. "And you look like Elvis! You have an eternal bad hair day!" He said, pointing at Kurt.
"What?" The blue boy squinted.
"Deadpool, stay away from them!" Scott warned, flashing his visor in readiness. "Whatever you came here for, you're not getting it from us!"
"Look at you all grown up and shouting orders like a boss man! Relax, kid, I have no quarrel with you today. I just wanted to catch up and meet new people! Speaking of..." Deadpool said, then reloaded his gun that he suddenly grabbed. Something darkened in his eyes. "Where's Wolverine?"
The other X-Men could see Jean and Scott getting tense. It seemed that despite their distate, they were scared of the man after all.
Suddenly, Deadpool seemed to hear something and his head perked up a bit. They could almost see a smirk forming on his face.
"Right on the clock." He mused. He spun his gun in his hand, then without any warning, whipped back and fired a single shot.
Wolverine had entered the warehouse and managed to sneak behind them. He quickly released his claws and slashed the bullet mid-air. Before other X-Men could stop him, Deadpool switched, pulled out his katanas and teleported again. He reappeared right in front of Logan and took a swing at him. His weapons and the mutant's claws clashed.
"Kurt, get everyone outta here!" The X-Man shouted. The boy nodded. The kids came closer and he teleported them away, leaving the two alone.
"I had a feelin' I smelled a rottin' brain somewhere!" Wolverine growled.
"You're the one to talk, dog-breath!" Deadpool retorted, trying to slash him again. Wolverine blocked him. "Dog, or bear, or some other animal that smells bad! I don't want to say badger, because I feel like I'd be beating a dead horse at this point-"
"I miss the silence already!" Logan said. He roared and tried to throw a punch.
Meanwhile, the group reappeared outside.
"What does this Deadpool guy want with Logan?!" Rouge couldn't help, but grow concerned.
"They have... history." Scott explained. "I'm pretty sure they hate each other."
"Like he and Sabertooth?" Kitty asked.
"Honestly? We have no idea." Jean admitted. "It's best to just stay out of the way and let Logan handle it. He always does."
As soon as she said that, they heard an explosion that made them jump. Suddenly, Wolverine fell out of a window with a trail of smoke following him. Deadpool jumped after him and skilfully landed on the ground. When he stood up, the kids saw that he was holding a bomb with his face painted on it.
"He has explosives?!" Kurt shouted, tugging his hair. Logan returned on his feet, smoke from the explosion still dancing on his body.
"I thought you were done takin' bounties on me!" He shouted.
"I am, but it's an emergency!" Deadpool said, throwing the bomb from hand to hand. "I need this money more than I need food and water!"
"A sellout through and through!" Wolverine said, then charged back. Deadpool let him get close, teleported, and then tried to throw a bomb at him from the distance. Logan kicked it right into the ocean and it exploded in the water.
The mercenary quickly switched back to his katanas and charged with full force at his opponent. There was a lot of slashing, dodging and rolling involved. Neither of them managed to reach each other for a good while. Finally, Wolverine used an opportunity to pin Deadpool to the ground with one arm behind his back.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" He cried. "That's foul play! You're disqualified for being a bad sport!"
"Cry me a river, Wilson." Logan tsked. "Whoever hired you must've not known that you always lose to me."
"Yeah. That might be true." The mercenary said, another almost visible smirk appearing on his face. Little did Wolverine know, his free arm was trying to reach for a hidden pocket in his costume. "By the way, don't think that I forgot to bring a souvenir or two for my bestest friend. Why don't you let me go so I can show it to you?"
"I ain't lettin' you go that easily, bub. You're gonna tell me exactly who sent you and what kinda money made you break your promise."
"Oh, I love to talk! Especially with you!" He quietly unzipped the pocket and reached inside. "But you know I can't talk about my employers. Merc 101. Buuuut, I can tell you all about the crazy places I've been to for the past two years! I learned like three different languages! Do you want me to say something in Chinese?"
"If you're tryin' to make me angry, it ain't gonna work. We've been doin' this song and dance long enough for me to know when you're lookin' for a distraction."
"Awww, you care about me enough to know my strategy! You so deserve that little treat I bought you!"
"Logan, look out!" Rouge shouted, but she was too late. Logan felt a sharp sting in his leg. He gasped and quickly pushed himself off Deadpool. He looked down and saw a dart sticking from his thigh. The X-Men were ready to intervene.
"Do not get involved!" Logan snarled, sensing their intent. His head was already beginning to spin.
"Yeah, you better listen to Papa Wolvie! This is between us adults!" Deadpool shouted, looking at them as well. The mutant suddenly fell to his knees, trying to fight whatever Deadpool injected into him, but it seemed stronger than his healing factor. His eyes started feeling heavy, and finally, he fell lifelessly on the ground.
"Logan!" The kids yelled. Jean was already floating whatever she could to throw at Deadpool.
"Don't worry, X-Kids! I promise to give him back as soon as I get my money! Follow your dreams and stay in school!" Deadpool gave them a peace sign before he kneeled in front of Wolverine and teleported away with him.
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awriternamedart · 2 days
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a collection of my middle aged man yaoi sampard headcanons -
Sampo has poliosis, a condition that can cause premature greying in areas on the scalp.
Gepard has lots of facial and body hair but it grows slowly because of their cold enviroment. His beard is a stopwatch for how long hes been on the frontlines that time around as he only gets to shave when hes at his home/stationed in the city.
Sampo has a few beauty marks n moles ! mostly on his back and shoulders.
Gepard has freckles! All the Landaus do!
Once Gepard scared the ever living shit out of Sampo because the Landaus have reflective eyes. So Sampo just saw two blue dots in his bedroom once and nearly fell out the window he climbed in through.
Gepard has piercings! Two simple lobe piercings, he only wears them when hes on break. (so like, never.) Serval pierced them for him when they were teenagers so its a little botched but he does his best to take care of them because their a fond memory of his sister. (He also owns a pair of studs for each of his sisters - a snowflake set for Lynx, and a music note set for Serval. Otherwise, simple black studs.)
Sampo has sideburns!! He tends to keep them trimmed well , since his appearence is a huge part of the show. Hes incredibly meticulous down to the last detail in order to sell it, and can spend up to two hours every morning making sure hes ready for the stage .
Gepard is an amputee. I need to update my arm lore doc but basic gist - his gauntlet is a prosthetic used to trap Fragmentum in his arm nub and uses that Fragmentum as a powersource for the Geomarrow to bounce off of and create the ice and mist he uses in battle. He still deals with phantom pain but most of the time it is soothed with his prosthetic - though it can still flare up horribly when overused.
Sampos really weak to being kissed on the nape of his neck, right where his hair is. Hes not quite sure why.
Gepards easy to blush but inCREDIBLY hard to fluster. Hes so used to keeping himself in check and in control that to catch him in any form of stupor is rare.
Related - Gepard struggles immensely when hes out of control of a situation and someone he is unfamiliar with or doesnt trust holds power over it. Hes so used to being in charge and being looked to and only having those he trusts as peers or over him in the power system that being thrown into that situation crawls under his skin in a /neg way. Physical vulnerabilty is also not easy and very stressful.
Quite the opposite for Sampo - emotional vulnerabilty ties this guy in KNOTS. Hes pretty open to touch (once your on his trust list and ONLY if your on the trust list) but youll have to drag him kicking and screaming if you want a glimpse at his actual thoughts.
also Sampo has a wheezy hyena laugh.
Gepard only has only one or two potted plants he tried to use as motivation to go home more often- it was a suggestion from Pela. But uh, yeah it didnt work. Hes a great cook though!
On the other hand- do not let Sampo within 5 meters of a kitchen. For your sake and his. (hes not that bad and can make enough to get by- but it really .. does not taste great ...)
Sampos not entirely sure how old he is, but Natasha figured he was somewhere in his late twenties early thirties when he arrived on Jarilo and hes kinda been rolling with that ever since.
Gepard overheats really easily when he gets off planet eventually. Like it is bad how easily he gets heatstroke.
Sampo uses his blades to pick at his teeth sometimes. Both Natasha and Gepard hate this .
Gepard has a nasty resting bitch face. Hes learned to be able to nullify it a little bit but when hes tired it drops back to usual and makes it look likes constantly about to murder someone.
On the plus side, this control over his expression means he plays a nasty game of poker! (or whatever the Jarilo 6 counterpart of poker is)
Sampo has on more then one occassion forgot that he has the ability to neutralize most of Belobogs cold and has wandered outside without his jacket. Many people looked at him like he was insane.
Gepard always cuts the sleeve right above his gauntlet implant and sews a new hem to keep it from getting caught in machinery.
Hook called Sampo Gramps once. He never recovered.
Gepards hair is slowly turning brown instead of greying! Sampo is infact, salty about this.
Gepard has three majorly noticable scars. He has frostburn on his flesh hand that wind up his arm, he has Fragmentum cracks that wind up his opposite shoulder (amputated arm)(inactive so it looks like scar tissue or a lightning scar rather then black or gold) , and an impact scar/explosion scar across his lower back. Other minor scars are shrapnel cuts and his knuckles being scarred from being a fistfighter. Also his nose is slightly crooked.
Sampo has done a damn good job at making sure he looks the part of the shifty businessman but he has a few marks of his own. Being an Emanator means he heals quickly- and can mask any scars and injuries he gets with relative ease - but he prefers to not rely on this aspect. His biggest scar is an ugly blade cut into his right shoulderblade, and its only so prominant because it struggled to heal properly.
Sampo is shorter the Natasha! Natasha is just tall !! She is shorter then Gepard who is the tallest among the Belobog cast but shes second.
In order of tallest to shortest of Belobog adults its - Gepard, Natasha, Sampo, Serval, Luka, Bronya, Seele. Sorry Seele.
The Landau eye color and color crest is so recognizable in Belobog that that shade of blue is called Landau Blue.
When Sampo has a difficult time sleeping, he wordlessly buries his face into Gepards neck, who simply begins to hum if hes also awake.
Gepard is a light sleeper- he wakes up very easily. Sampo is not. Gepard has had to fight an extremely sleepy Sampo to get up in the morning more times then he can count.
Gepard actually does have a good singing voice, its just that he has poor discipline and tries to match Servals octave. Which is. Way to high. He also has good rhythm!
This does not mean he is a good dancer.
He can get through on dancing, it being part of his upbringing and studies growing up, but he can only do what steps he knows. Any improv and he falters.
Sampo has in fact trust falled on Gepard multiple times. Once at Bronya and Seeles wedding. He basically forced Gepard to dip him.
Gepard is actually incredibly sassy. Its just that hes awful at inflection and everything comes across as matter-of-fact or dry as fuck. That, and he only dares to sass Serval most of the time- theres not many other people hes comfortable enough with to let loose that much.
When it comes to fishing out back alley deals, few are more knowledgable than Sampo. Even before the Trailblazers, Sampo and Gepard had an under the table deal where if Gepard was unable to crack a case alone, he could get information off Sampo in exchange for supplies and shield. He was not happy about this deal but he deemed it a necessity- for the sake of Belobogs safety.
Sampo would and still does anonymously tip the Guards off on major crimes that could severely impact Belobogs already fragile economy. Hes no saint , but he has his personal morals and he sticks to them.
Gepard had many sharp teef , lil fangies even ! but theyve been worn down over time.
Sampo also has lil sharp teef ! his are more snake fang like tho, thinner.
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thewhumpcaretaker · 2 days
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⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 3 - A Manageable Situation
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ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ
Summary: As LaCroix brings Vincent home to Venture Tower, each one has a very simple plan. Surely all will go well.
TW: mind control, emotional manipulation, kidnapping
Vincent drifted through the city of angels, a prisoner in his own body. Bars and restaurants and strip clubs flashed past in neon and chain link and rain-drenched concrete. The downpour did nothing to stifle the city stench, but rather enhanced it. The air was too warm, too humid, the look of palms and alien plants more unfamiliar than it should have been, given that he’d watched American movies. But everything looked different in person. He had been to the states before, but never the west coast. It occurred to him, in fact, that he was probably farther from Versailles than he’d ever been.
By the clock on the dash, it was just past 8 PM local time. The whole night lay ahead of them. And LaCroix was just getting started, taking his “early” business calls in the front seat as the city’s nightlife shook itself awake. Meanwhile, Vincent fought against the hunger and exhaustion that had not been properly addressed for days even before he was taken.
With Sebastian’s concentration slipping to other concerns, Vincent’s numbed emotions were slipping back into the pit of his stomach, where they tied themselves into an aching knot. Horror was there, in nightmarish quantity, but so was hope - a feverish, desperate kind of hope. This was not the time to panic, but to plan. This was really a very manageable situation, all things considered. “No one is looking for you because no one knows you are missing.” He kept repeating those words to himself. LaCroix was quite right. All he had to do was contact someone. Even being seen alive in public might be enough. And then everyone would be looking for him. And they’d take him away. And LaCroix would be so devastated…pictures of him kept intruding into Vincent’s mind, crying over Vincent, losing him, missing him. There was some overwhelming desire to see LaCroix utterly pathetic on his account. It wasn’t ideal to be so fixated on LaCroix, but…better to hate him than to love him. In the midst of this feeling, it was possible to dream of escape, and so he clung to it.
He’d been directly commanded not to jump out of the vehicle, but he rested his forehead against the glass, hoping to be seen as the streetlamps passed over him in cycling flashes of yellow. But they were, of course, moving too quickly for anyone to recognize him, even if any of the passersby somehow knew who he was. Without any incident, the car came to a stop in front of an enormous skyscraper which LaCroix announced as Venture Tower.
The building itself seemed hostile, designed for intimidation. What kind of a man flanked his doorway with these god-awful Modernist figures of what Vincent could only describe as emaciated shadow people? It was chilling, but in such an unsophisticated way, like hoisting up a head on a pike for all to see. He wondered if they were meant to represent those Sebastian had drained of blood. He tried to play off his shudder of body horror as mere aesthetic disgust. “How is it that you lived through Romanticism without absorbing a single one of its artistic principles? It was wasted on you.”
LaCroix’s eyes widened and Vincent realized too late that he’d given himself away. Until now, the Prince probably thought he was still under full domination. “Already running your mouth again? Extraordinary, how you break free. So much so, in fact, that I’ll indulge you.” He gestured to the dismal grey lobby that would have been better suited to a penitentiary. “I change with the times and the requirements of leadership. It’s called branding, Vincent, and it saves lives. You’ll find the penthouse better suited to your tastes, but there’s no reason for the masses to see how I furnish my own living space. They have a tendency to start lopping off heads when they see too much open gaudiness…or firing bullets through skulls, as the case may be.” The Prince eyed Vincent’s embroidered greatcoat pointedly, as if that had been the sole reason for Wick’s dispute with him.
But he hadn’t stolen Vincent’s voice again, and that was something. Better try for a compliment, keep him talking.
“It does make for a brutal spectacle, at least, which is its own sort of…functionality.” His eyes were fixed on the elevator’s emergency call button, and his mind on the phone at the front desk of the lobby. His own cell phone had been confiscated at some point in his unconsciousness. Who was carrying it? LaCroix, or the Sheriff?
LaCroix nodded, no doubt pleased with his own advice. That confident smile, the way his mouth curled back against his fangs…Vincent suddenly felt like he had lost command of himself again. It was so difficult to look at this man without wanting to crush him to pieces. “You’ll learn a great deal with me, Vincent. I’m offering you an opportunity, to serve the interests of the Camarilla, to rule over LA at my side…and eventually much more than that, as your regnant’s hold expands.”
An opportunity to serve. How enticing. Vincent physically bit his tongue until his irritation subsided before replying. “Do you take me for a fool, LaCroix? I know what it means to share power, and it does not interest me.”
“How unfortunate. Then you will have none. You’ve lost your privileges again.”
A violent jolt of compulsion followed, stronger than anything on the aircraft. He was a passenger in his body again for the remainder of the elevator ride. He drifted powerless into the heart of Sebastian’s domain, gliding past the collection of history paintings that had been missing from the art historical community for hundreds of years, past the gold filigree flickering with firelight and the white moon that flashed through driving rain to cast a sliver of halo against the Prince’s hair. Sebastian wasn’t joking – he was a man of taste after all, and to be at the epicenter of his power was to walk in a decadent dream.
Never had Vincent felt so completely in the power of another person. Never had he felt another person’s strength so directly, inside of his own body and surrounding him on every side with the fruits of his superior’s machinations. He was totally and completely in Sebastian’s hold, spurred to the point of some manic envy. Two centuries of power were concentrated in this room. It made him want to sing and scream out loud, to climb the walls and knife the cushions, to tear the curtains with his teeth, to fling himself at LaCroix and…and…
To outdo him. How good it would feel, to conquer the most magnificent man he had ever seen. An opportunity. Yes, an opportunity to conquer. To see you broken and wretched. To impress you, REALLY impress you, until you bow to me. You’ll look so pretty weeping on your knees when your new pet disappears back to France with all your secrets, Bast…shame I won’t be here to see it… He shook himself, trying to focus only on the return home, but the return home was tied up with a powerful vengefulness towards LaCroix. To live, to be himself, was to struggle against LaCroix. His blood was pounding wildly all through his body, livid with another man’s vital energy.
Then Sebastain’s hands were on him, guiding him gently into a chair. “Easy. It’s hitting you, isn’t it? You like my pretty things?”
Oh, Sebastian. You don’t understand at all. In a wrathful haze, he grinned. “…Oui.”
“Good then.” He straightened up and snapped his fingers at the Sheriff. “He’s coming under control. We should be alright.” They were whispering about some assignment, and the Sheriff was gone.
Vincent stared into the fire, half insensible and trembling. I’m going to devastate him. I’m going to make him hurt. I’m going to devour everything that’s his and make it MINE.
.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.
LaCroix opened his briefcase, removing the contents from his travels and settling in at his desk for the night. He was thoroughly relieved. It was really a very manageable situation. The Marquis just took a while to feel the full effects. Perhaps that made sense, given how long it had taken him to heal from the bullet wound. Regrowing a brain was such a long process. But the vitae had finally taken root, and he was completely entranced.
Sebastian’s eyes lingered on Vincent. He was shaking in some ecstasy of reverence or lust, his eyes fixed on a Ventrue crest above the fireplace. It was strangely…disappointing. To see him like this was such an insult to the Marquis who had been fighting for his freedom tooth and nail just minutes ago. The Prince couldn’t help the sense that he had crushed something irreplaceable, and that it wasn’t worth it. Brought to heel, Vincent was cute, but before he had been…
Well, anyway, he wasn’t just cute. He really was bright. It was only a matter of how best to use him. He’d make a uniquely opportune spy within the High Table if there was some way to send him back in without compromising the Masquerade. But that was doubtful, and besides, he’d make just as clever a spy within the underworld. It seemed a shame to waste him among the kine - a specimen such as this wasn’t meant for such a life.
Or he could be useful on the trail of the Sarcophagus…
“Join me for a moment.” It was somewhere between hilarious and painful, watching Vincent cross the room. He wasn’t unsteady exactly, but pulled taut as a violin string. He practically vibrated. Sebastian could hear his racing heart. Vincent’s wide eyes locked onto his face and could not turn away. There was still something terrifying in them, and he found himself wondering whether he hadn’t best calm him down before attempting conversation. “…Are you quite well now, Vincent?”
“I am…hungry.” It was said with all the strained desperation of a newborn vampire. “Please, Prince. I know you don’t need to eat, but it’s been all day and night for me. Won’t you get me something, anything?”
He smiled, indulgent. Vincent wasn’t just cute this way, he was adorable. Those pleading eyes. “Alright. One moment, and then we’ll have a talk over your breakfast.”
One moment, turned away to call the front desk. And Vincent had already retrieved his cell phone from the briefcase and run halfway across the room. It was ringing.
He swore and made after him. “Oh for - Just where do you think you’re going!?” Vincent only sped up and disappeared into the stairwell. For god’s sake, his legs were so long…
Down they spiraled, Sebastian shouting useless commands that only seemed to spur him onward. It was no use to take him by force, it would have to be old-fashioned reason. “WHOEVER THAT IS WILL DIE IF YOU SAY A WORD!” The words echoed down some twenty stories. More quietly, for Vincent’s ears only, “The Masquerade. Recall what I told you.”
Vincent went still. In the sudden silence, a voice could be heard on the other side, barely loud enough to filter out towards LaCroix. “Hello? Who is this? It’s not possible that this is the Marquis.”
Panting, staring up at LaCroix with unbridled hatred, Vincent hung up the phone. Why did that look cut him so deeply? He pushed the pain aside and continued his descent, slowly now. Vincent did not retreat any further. “Good boy. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But you have to understand that I couldn’t let you go now even if I wanted to. It’s a violation of all our laws. To save you, I had to take you away. Permanently. You cannot go back.” He came to the same step as Vincent, looking up at him now, their bodies inches apart. “And now that I have you, can you fault me for putting you to use? When you are such a sharpened tool that you frighten even me?”
Very softly, “I frighten you?”
“…Dreadfully.”
Vincent’s eyes had never looked softer, never more innocently pleased. “Merveilleux.” And he lifted Sebastian right off his feet, and hurled him over the railing.
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Image Sources: One (background) | One (Vincent) | Two
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