#i wish I could draw but I been kinda busy

[butcher--bird]

diss pair species headcanons because im insane

i left a lot out because I ran out of space (lol) but I imagine hybridization is extremely common, so they could be more types of species but these are solely the species that come up most predominantly if you were to test their dna or something.

[unknownmads]

PRISON TOJII (he’s so addictive🤭) if he’s so bad then why does he look so good? like that’s literally my baby daddy y’all✊🏼😍 i wrote this kinda quick sorry i’ve been so busy y’all

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

the words rang through your ears having this be the first time you heard his voice, it was deep and rough his ton was teasing you quietly.

Prison Toji who’s eyes track as you reach into your bag grabbing a small notebook and pen. Opening the notebook revealed a page already full of questions you were waiting to ask him. oh how cute you are thinking about him so much just so excited. he’s pulled out of his trance when you finally speak.

“hi toji, it’s great to finally meet you too” your voice soft at first from your original anxiety about the situation. i mean your just here to meet him for your class nothing more. right? you wouldn’t be here because you love reading his letters telling you how pretty you are. how he wished he could take you out properly. Shamelessly telling you how hard he got to your pictures, but he was just flirting he’s a man in a prison it’s what happens.

Prison toji who finally speaks next the seconds feeling like eternity for him. He doesn’t want to have to sit across a table from you he wants you in his lap sitting pretty just how you are now.

“That’s a lot of writing in your lil notebook doll, you been thinkin of me?” this time his tone laced with teasing and smirk displayed on his lips. it draws attention to his scar, you had never asked about it not wanting to push things you shouldn’t, but you can’t help but ask anyways.

“where’d you get that scar?” pointing to your own lip as you looked up at him. a small chuckle escapes him surprised at your bluntness.

“well you’re quick to the questions today. you wanna get a closer look at it?” the gawking look one your face giving you away. with a quick nod you were leaning across the table to get a closer look as he did the same to help you.

Prison Toji who stops you with an almost surprised grunt when your hand reaches up to touch his lip where the scar is

“shit sorry” quietly escapes you as you looked away for a second toji takes this as an opportunity

“you’re okay sweetheart just gonna get us in some trouble if you do that.” his lips next to your ear as his breath brushing against your ear “can’t control myself around such a pretty thing like you.”

Prison Toji whose pants grow so much tighter when he sees how flustered you get from such a simple comment. You turn back to face him, his eyes instantly meeting yours challenging you telling you to do it, see how far it goes, see how bad he possibly is, and just like a moth to a flame you do just that. your hand grazing where his scar is going to cup his face, it was all so fast you could barely process it. he forced himself forward slamming his lips to yours. shock took you first then you eased into the kiss and began kissing back. and then you remembered HES A PRISONER AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR SCHOOL.

Prison toji whose ready to snap his cuffs when you pull away. leaning into you as much as he could almost whining when your lips part from his. he sees you shocked and guilt ridden with your finger touching your lips

“whats wrong doll didn’t like it? give me another chance to try again” his body fully leaning to you practically half way over the table.

“im sorry we shouldn’t hav- it wasn’t bad- just we can’t Toji.” your thoughts swirling the world is spinning. Could you get kick out of school? what if someone saw? are there cameras in here? why do i still want to? it’s wrong.

“It’s fine sweetheart no one will know, just you and me i know you want more from the look on your face and the way your sqeezin your thighs. don’t even try to deny it.”

Caught. like a fly in a trap, he’s got you.

Prison toji whose cock jumps when you slide out of your seat and approach him looking to make sure the guards weren’t watching. unknowing to the fact that toji already blackmailed both of them to let him have all the privacy he needed with you. the look in your eyes as you approached was pure lust and need for him.

“your sure we’ll be fine right?” you say as you lean down towards him

“im positive doll i made sure of it.”

Prison Toji who finally snaps his cuffs unable to take anymore. grabbing your hips and pulling you into his lap his face clashing with your the kiss is sloppy and full of need. a small sound escaping as he deepens the kiss.

“i’ve been dreaming of this.”

TAGS: @altgojo @nanmiik @kouyoumarryme @imaslothandsowhat @dragonmaiden79 @sircatchungus

SOME OF YALL DIDNT SHOW UP WHEN I SEARCHED IM SO SORRY😭

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

MADE FOR LOVIN' YOU BABY

pairings — max verstappen x reader

warnings — nothing but fluff, pretty much just domestic love yk, kinda like the Jason Todd one i wrote

summary — Max wasn't actually a mean guy outside of the grid, he was actually a very loving guy that you had fallen for.

notes — writing f1 stuff will this thrive like my batfam stuff (also this is on my computer so it might be different) (and i’m also kinda writing on my phone?? idk) and it’s crazy short whoops

━━━━━━━ YOU WERE GLAD that Max was finally on his break. You could finally see him for a while, and he wasn't as busy with his media presence and all that. He was all yours until the season started back up again.

You could feel the stubble Max had yet to trim against your shoulder, and you tiredly turned to him, groaning before a smile landed across your face. Despite how early it was, Max's face was able to easily make up for that.

"Morning, Max." You scooted closer to him, kissing him softly. When you pulled away, you smiled happily at him. He smiled back, kissing you before you laid on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek.

You both stayed like that for another hour, before you got up and went to the kitchen while he delt with the few things he had to for the day. Eventually, he found you downstairs.

You had made a healthy enough breakfast, plating it up for the two of you to eat outside on your balcony. You two sat together on a small couch in a mess of tangled limbs. You remained there, even well after you both finished breakfast.

It was a comfortably quiet time, one the two of you had found yourselves accustomed to ever since he had begun his break from racing.

you had both found the time you spent together, tucked away in your home, had been spectacular thus far. you were now well adjusted to always having Max by you now.

“wish you could stay home like this forever.” you muttered tiredly into his chest, smiling when one of your cats hopped up to where they two of you laid together.

running your hand along the cats fur, you could feel Max looking at you. with a little effort, you finally met his eyes, which were filled with nothing but love and happiness.

“everyone on the grid is so wrong about you being a bad guy. you’re such a softie.” you teased, smiling and poking his side. he smiled wider, throwing his head back and laughing.

“you’re the only one who sees me this way, obviously everyone else thinks i’m a bad guy.” Max rolled his eyes.

“liar. not Charles. he’s probably more in love with you than me.” you joked, dropping your head back down onto his chest, listening to the steady beats of his heart.

it was calm all around. there weren’t any loud cars driving through, you could hear the birds around you two as the sky began to light up, the afternoon at a steady approach.

it just felt like morning. you two had on sweaters, blocking out the morning cold. eventually it would warm up a little more, but wouldn’t get unbearably warm like the summer would.

“i wish i could stay here forever, y’know. right here, on this couch, until we grow old and gray.” you began drawing patterns on his rising and falling chest. you felt it move with laughter, which made you laugh.

“go back inside and play Mario Kart?” Max grinned. you sat up, a determined look crossing your face as you nodded excitedly. you had bought the old Nintendo 64 console and multitude of fun games in Miami during the Miami Grand Prix. you and Max were obsessed.

round after round, insult after insult, it ended with the two of you laughing together in a mess of limbs on the floor.

all Max was made for was love, his insults never had any angry backing, his apologies were instantaneous after any argument, and his priorities in your relationship was very well set.

he did his best for you, and you returned the same bouts of love.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right… she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated? 

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table…. You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 

Devotion. 

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 

But you two are just friends. 

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids… and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable… or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, Trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready for anything that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh… I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.” 

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got Trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, Trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees.

Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stolls put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places... That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way… I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon… but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on.

When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

ask to be added to luke/general taglists!

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[bahrtofane]

here we go again - pt.1

pt. 2 , pt.3

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again.

word count : 1K+

watch it : mild fluff, heavy on the angst, situationships, toxic relationships, Jude is kinda an ass in this one sorry, not very happy ending

happy valentines day LOL

—--

you and Jude have a complex history, complex relationship. 

you aren't officially together but at the same time you are exclusive. it's odd, but it's what works at the moment, (even if you wish he would just grow the balls to make you his already.)

you get he's a busy guy, top player both club and international. you aren't going to force him to choose you or make him get with you while his career is soon about to peak. 

your wishes for more soon fade into the background as he presses gentle kisses into your skin. he called you a few hours prior, wondering if you wanted to keep him company while he binges movies and orders you a pizza. you said yes, maybe a little foolishly. but it's hard to stay away from him. 

he's addicting. maybe it's a rush of being with someone whose whole existence is so grand. maybe it's the fact of knowing you have what millions of others crave for. you don't know, you try not to read into the intricacies. bad habit. 

so here you are, face pressed up against his chest while you lay side by side on this stupidly large couch, action movie playing, your pizza done, belly full and body warm. 

"what are you thinking about love?" he mumbles. 

"you." you shrug.

"me ?" he chuckles. 

you hum, wiggling deeper into the pile of blankets. 

"i've been thinking about you. and us." he confesses, almost shy. the movie playing in front of you has long fizzled out of your attention. 

hey might as well rip the band aid off. 

"me too," you hum, "why aren't we official again?"

you feel him sigh dramatically, "because my career."

you squint. there goes the same lousy explanation. "you could put more i don't know, thought into us."

he shifts under the blankets , "valentine's day is coming up. dont worry love i have it all planned out." he assures you. 

"oh yeah ?" you tease

"just you wait, the best valentine's day ever." he kisses the top of your head soundly.

—--

worst fucking valenties day of your life. you don't remember being more livid a day in your life. you cant remember the last time so much pure rage burned through you, hot enough to hurt. you didn't think it was humanly possible to clench your fist so tight youve dug into your palm hard enough to draw blood. 

your head hurts, your legs hurt, you think your arm is starting to bruise from where you were shoved into a table on "accident" but what would Jude know. he was so busy taking pictures with models and laughing at corny jokes while you kept yourself company. texting and calling didnt work and he didn't even try to give you any attention the whole night, you can't keep doing this with him. 

"you can't just run off-" Jude shouts from somewhere behind you. 

"or what Jude. or fucking what." you seeth, not bothering to face him, storming out into the night. 

It's your fault for trusting him all those nights ago. your fault for falling for the same shit over and over. 

he sprints to catch up to you, "i don't know why you're being like this."

you stop dead in your tracks, "oh i don't know, let's think. you didn't tell me your escorts would be there. and to top it all fucking off they have to nerve to be on my ass the whole night, not letting me get anywhere near you even through we walked in together?"

he doesn't respond and you half the mind not to punch the shit out of him, walking further away from the club you just came from, heels clanking against the sidewalk so hard it hurts, pulling on your dress so you dont trip and fall. maybe you should let it go so you can fall flat on your face. that would be a better ending to the night than seeing his face. silly stupid you thinking this would work. 

"happy fucking valentines day huh Jude. you take me to a damn club, you ignore me the whole night, and you spend all your time surrounded by other women who might as well just suck you off right then and there." you yell, hell if anyone hears. you want them too, you want him to be as humiliated as you feel. 

Bellinghams date thrown away the moment you step inside, ignored and tossed for some common whores. oh you can't wait to see where your face ends up online after tonight. you can see the headlines now. 

he grabs your arm, making you face him, "love listen-"

"no, you dont get to fucking do that anymore. you cant keep sweet talking your way out of things when you fuck up. why can't you just pretend to care" your voice shakes, you can feel tears brimming in your eyes.

"i'm not trying to talk my way out of it, i'm trying to explain." he tries.

you yank your arm out of his grip, "i'm not listening anymore, im done. all i asked was one day for us, just valentines day to make things work. and you showed me you dont care enough for that." 

"please, let me fix this." he pleads.

"its too late."

"i wanted things to work so fucking bad, and you humiliated me Jude. i imagined a nice dinner, hell i would have settled for take out and a few kisses. that's how bad i want things to work, that's how bad i wanted you." you tremble. 

"please my darling. let's talk about this. come back inside and i'll show everyone that you are mine," he holds a hand out to you, waiting. silently pleading with each breath he takes. 

the street lights dance across his skin as for a moment you almost believe him. for a moment you think about stepping back inside with him. you can't do that to yourself, not again. 

"no, iim done. don't follow me, don't call me dont text nothing. i want nothing more to do with you." your firm, final. swallowing the lump that builds in your throat, youd be damned if he sees you cry after this fucking shit show.

he stops in his tracks at this, not bothering to try and stop you. 

it hurts more than it should to leave him behind you, but you honest to god can not keep up with his lifestyle. 

all those articles and rumors were right you suppose, he's an arrogant stuck up bastard with too much money to know what to do with, too cocky for his own good and destroys anything good that comes his way. you hope he's happy without you. 

[messylustt]

Helloo, I came up with an idea of Ethan Landry X stepmom!Reader. It's pretty kinky, I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable. I wish you a fantastic day ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Also..Love your work so muchhhh.

not uncomfortable at all sweetheart x i love forbidden tropes.

౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐭𝐨-𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐦𝐨𝐦 (𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲) : scream

stepcest, kinda dub con, kinda big age-gap (ethan is 19 in this, so legal), people pleaser reader, manipulation, faint touch on bailey x reader (not detailed), finger in mouth (I do this a lot); cheating

You heard your fiancé call from your shared bedroom, asking where he had left his ties.

"The second draw in the closet, hon!" You call back as you drop the grocery bags and keys on the kitchen bench.

Ethan watches from the couch, a scowl on his face upon hearing the pet name falling from your lips. One would think he's just disgusted to hear his dad and almost mum being affectionate. But that's not the case at all.

When Ethan had first met you he was surprised to see how young you were. He had thought you were far too young for his dad, but that could also be clued up to the fact that he found you pretty. Beautiful in fact. And as he had let his gaze travel, gulping, he realised how fucked he was if a ring found it's way onto your finger.

And that's exactly what happened. His dad had proposed, and the wedding was scheduled, causing his response to every sweet thing you said to him to be sour and rude.

You thought Ethan didn't like you. You wanted to make an effort without seeming to intrusive. Quinn seemed to be fine with you, saying how she's glad that her dad has found someone.

Bailey walked out, tightening his tie. He gave you a passing smile before rushing out the door. The police firm had some sort of dinner, where Bailey was determined to make a good impression on his boss.

Ethan continued to watch you as his dad left, leaving you take out the grocceries alone. Ethan really couldn't believe that his dad had somehow scored you. He was old, and you were in all honesty closer to Ethan's age, a much more appropriate suitor for him.

Ethan always kept you at arms length as your close proximity left him on edge to act. There were many instances where Ethan could have touched you. Innocent touches that would send his hand into his boxers when the sun was gone. Your name just a mere whimper from his lips as his head hit back against his headboard. Even moments in public, when his dad was just in the next room, working, Ethan could have let his hand wander when you both sat on the couch.

"Hey, Ethan. Any preference for dinner?" You called to Ethan, placing random food items into the fridge and cupboard.

You always spoke so sweetly to him. Ethan knew how much you wanted him to like you. But as a stepson should like his stepmum. Nothing more. And that set the scowl back onto Ethan's face.

"I don't really care." He dismissed, turning to face the tv, clicking at the remote as he scanned channels. But he barely paid attention to the show, catching your melodious voice hum a quiet tune.

Ethan wanted you to shut up, because your sweet tasting voice was making his head spin with thoughts no son should be thinking. He was a good son. He was. But when he glanced behind him at the kitchen as you rolled your sleeves up, revealing even more skin, his resolve began to break.

But then you paused, glancing over at Ethan, who quickly busy's himself with the show, acting as though he'd never been eyeing you. "Do you mind if we just get take out? Since your dad is out all night, and Quinn is with a friend."

Ethan spared you glance, trying to cool the heat threating to spill from his gaze, as he nodded. You walk over to him, resting your hands behind him against the couch. Ethan stiffens, smelling your signature perfume. He shifts by the cushions. "You don't mind?" You ask softly.

Ethan glances up at you, his breath hitching, when he meets your gentle, almost tender gaze. "Uh, yeah. No, that's fine." He quickly says, turning back to face the tv.

"Great." You sigh, landing beside him on the couch, as you bring your phone out to call the nearby pizza place.

Ethan's gaze instantly goes to your bare legs, your shorts riding up past mid thigh. If he just tilted his head slightly, he could probably see your panties—

He coughs, placing a pillow over his lap, as he tries to get distracted by the show.

You then tap his shoulder, as you whisper in his ear, asking what pizza he'd like. Ethan had to quickly answer, saying a simple pepperoni, his mind too hazy to come up with anything more detailed.

Soon you're relaxed beside him on the couch, intently watching the show displayed on the screen. It's silent besides the series dialogue and your slow breathing. Ethan can't help but focus in on the latter, catching onto the way it hitches when something scary or surprising happened on screen.

Ethan had had to keep the pillow against his now prominent bulge. He couldn't let you see. But as you gradually drew closer to him, looking away with a gasp when a monster would jump out, screaming through the tv, Ethan slowly grew to want you to notice. Maybe you'd help him. But he knew that that was wishful thinking. You were with his dad, his soon to be stepmom. Ethan clenched his jaw.

"God, Ethan." You gasp. "How can you watch this stuff so calmly?" You ask, eyes wide as you stare at the screen. Your legs had curled up to your body, your chest heaving up and down quickly.

Then your hand flies out to grab Ethan's arm, your eyes shutting tight at a disgusting view of someone getting eaten alive. Ethan glanced down at your tight grip, a small smile slowly edging his lips.

He can't help but lean closer to you, whispering. "I didn't think you were such a pussy."

You open your eyes to meet Ethan's gaze. You go to retract your hand, but Ethan quickly grabs it, keeping it pressed to his body. "I wouldn't want my soon to be stepmom to hate me, for not giving her comfort when she's scared." He mocks out.

You scoff. "It's you who hates me." You say, letting Ethan rub his thumb over the skin of your hand, as you slightly jump when a monster again cries on screen.

"'Hate's' a bit harsh." Ethan says, liking the way you grip his hand tighter.

"But it's true." You shift your gaze back to him. "You don't really like me do you?" There was a sense of sadness in your voice. You really wanted everyone to feel comfortable with your new role. Especially Bailey's children.

Ethan tilts his head. A devious, very wrong plan 'light bulbs' over his head. He shouldn't want to execute it, but then you shuffle closer to him, trying to brush off your fear as you getting more comfrtable. You were desperate for the family to like you. And Ethan was going to use that to his advantage.

Ethan interlaces your hands, letting them drop to his lap, keeping you close if you chose to move away. "How 'bout I make you a deal."

You glance at him, brows furrowed. You hadn't paid too much attention to your hands being interwined because your heart was already racing from the film. "Hm?"

Ethan grins. The first smile you'd seen from him. "If you can make it through a horror film of my choosing, I'll be nicer to you."

You nibble your lip in thought. "But I don't expect you to be totally nice to me. I just want you to be comfortable—"

"I'll be comfortable with you if you make it through the entire movie." Ethan cuts in, shifting slightly closer to you.

You pause, taking a breath to prepare yourself. "Alright. Deal." You smile.

Ethan's grin widens as he grabs the remote, choosing the movie. He chose the scariest most disturbing one he knew, knowing you'd freak out and touch him again. He wanted to be able to comfort you without it seeming out of place.

The movie begins. And not even 10 minutes in your tucking you feet under a pillow, shifting closer to a satisfied Ethan. Ethan manages to lift his arm over the back of the couch, directely behind your body. You jump, placing your and over your eyes.

"No, no." Ethan says, grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away. "You have to actually watch it."

"But, it's disgusting." You grimace. Ethan keeps his grip on your wrist, keeping your hand by his lap.

"You can always back out. But that means I won't like you being in this house." Ethan warns with a shrug.

A determined expression covers your face as you sit straighter, which resulted in your thigh being pressed against his own. Ethan finally lets his arm slip around your shoulder, just as a particually shocking jump scare makes you press much more into Ethan's side.

He chuckles, making you mutter a quiet 'shut up'. With your gaze wide on the screen, Ethan gets the chance to stare at you, your face close.

As the movie progresses cute expressions of fear and disgust have appeared on your face. And Ethan's hand has started to draw closer and closer to the collar of your loose shirt. Ethan had quickly realised that you weren't wearing a bra.

Screams from the tv fill the room but all Ethan can focus on is the way your chest heaves up and down. Then as if his hand has a mind of it's own, his fingers slowly draw down the collar of your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin.

At first you barely notice, but then you feel Ethan's hand slipping inside your shirt, grazing his fingers over your nipple. Your eyes grow wide as your body tenses. You hear a soft groan come from Ethan as he rubs over your nipple with much more intent.

"Ethan—" You say, turning to glance at him to see he's already staring at you with a hooded gaze, filled with lust. You grab his wrist, attempting to pull his hand out of your shirt, staying gentle so as not to offend him. "I'm sorry." You say trying to keep the tension light. "I shouldn't have sat so close."

You go to move away, but Ethan pulls you back by his arm around your shoulder, now covering part of your neck. He can't resist as your neck nears, his lips beginning to drag across the tender skin.

"Ethan, I shouldn't be this close." You quickly say, placing your hand against his chest. "I know you're probably just turned on b-by the chick on screen." You gulp out.

Ethan shakes his head, his tongue now licking at your neck, his eyes fluttering shut. His hand sinks back into your shirt, now grabbing your tit, beginning to massage it. Your breathing quickens because the rough feel of his large hand is making a shiver run down your spine. "Please...Ethan. We can't."

"Didn't you say you wanted me to like you?" Ethan asks, nipping at the skin of your neck.

"Yes. But not like this. You know not like this." You say, hating the feeling of your core heating up.

"No, no. You want me to like you." Ethan says, taking his hand out of your shirt, before he swiftly grabs your thigh, pulling you around so that your straddling him. The pillow covering his hard on now tossed onto floor. "This is the only way I will."

Then before you can say another word Ethan's lips are smashing onto yours, eagerly pulling you closer, so that his bulge presses against your clothed pussy. You gasp through the kiss as you hear Ethan whimper. He kisses you with a built-up passion that you weren't prepared for. There's a moment where you forget about your already committed relationship, but when Ethan's lips return to your neck, littering kisses along your jaw, you remember. "Wait, Ethan...we really can't."

"Then stop me." Ethan mutters, as he hurriedly removes your shirt, quickly going back to kissing you. Your attempts are futile because the way his kisses are making your head spin, and the way his hard on has begun to grind into you, you can't help but let your strength drift away.

You manage to glance at the door a worried expression present. "Don't worry, no one's coming home." Ethan consoles, his licks and kisses reaching your perky nipple. You choke a gasp when Ethan wraps his lips around one, carefully sucking.

"Shit— Ethan." You breath, your back arching on its own, resulting in your hips moving against his bulge. Ethan's stuttering breath hits your tit. You stop, realising what you did.

"God, no— please don't stop." Ethan begs, grabbing your hips and trying to move you over him again.

"But Ethan— god." You gulp as the friction makes your pussy weep. "You've never— it's your first...you need to find a girl your age." You manage.

Ethan kitten licks your nipple, shaking his head. "No better person than my stepmom." He husks out.

That shouldn't have made your body shudder but it did. Ethan grinds up into you, moving your hips against him as little moans fall from his lips. "You feel so good..." He pants, watching your boobs slightly bounce at the movement.

"You know how to please a guy." Ethan continues, running his hands up and down your sides. "And I barely know how to jerk off well without thinking of you." He confessed. "Show me...I want you to show me how you please my dad. I bet he doesn't even make you cum." Then he's pulling you back down for a kiss, a grin of Ethan's only managing to break it.

At the mention of Ethan's dad, you manage to place your hands on his chest, pushing him back into the couch. Ethan stares at you, lips swollen, and realises that you may need some more convincing.

"He won't find out. Ever. I can promise that." Ethan says, keeping his hands wrapped around your body.

"But I'm practically your stepmom..." You say, managing to get off Ethan's lap.

"Fine." Ethan sighs. He watches you stand, trying to straighten out your modesty by the brushes over your clothes. "You wouldn't mind if I continue...right?"

Your brows furrow despite everything. But then your face smooths out in shocked realisation as Ethan unzips his pants, sticking his hand into his boxers, all while holding your gaze. "Ethan..."

"I'm just so turned on right now, y/n." He says, faking innocence. "I can't help but—" His mouth opens in pleasure as he begins to stroke his cock, having brought it out for your shameful eyes to see. "It's your fault." Wet noises fill the room, the tv only rolling credits now. "And I won't forgive you."

Ethan's dark eyes are practically oozing with lust as he pumps himself, letting his gaze wander down your frozen body. Your legs are pressed together in some lame form of relief, because your pussy is pulsing.

"I don't like you in this house." Ethan contines, before spitting in his hand to make his strokes more fluid. "I don't like you with my dad— fuck." His hips slightly buck up into his palm. "Do you really like him? You don't do you?" Ethan lets his head hang back, as he bites his lip.

"Because why would a gorgeous young woman like you get with someone like my dad?" He continues to stroke himself, and in all honesty you should be walking away, telling Ethan how inappropriate this is. But all you can do is stand and stare and Ethan continues to use that to his advantage.

"Yeah." He hums, a soft chuckle following. "I bet your dying to feel young hands touching you." He glances down at your thighs pressed together. "I'd touch you." He breathes. "Everywhere, especially between your legs. I mean look at you." He meets your gaze and you gulp.

"Your body is begging to be touched." Ethan is now shamelessly thrusting into his hand. "Let me touch you." He begs, his chest heaving up and down.

He meets your hesitant gaze, though he can spot the lust hidden behind. "If not, then at least give me something to help with this.” He gestures to his rock hard cock with his head. “Even just those tasty tits."

You had covered your chest with your shirt, holding it tightly to you chest. Your mind has been battling with itself, and soon the lustful side wins. You step a fraction closer, making Ethan's eyes widen with excitement.

"You just want some help...right?" You slowly ask, to which Ethan nods, his breathing picking up. You sit beside him on the couch, as you hand slowly reaches out, grazing over the pre-cum that still covers the tip of his cock. Ethan's hips jolt as his breathing stutters.

"I'll just help you cum. That's all you want...right?" You ask, meeting his gaze.

Ethan quickly nods, his hand tightening around a cushion, as he watches you spit into your hand. You had let your shirt go, letting Ethan see your breasts. Ethan's mouth opens in pleasure as you begin to stroke him, little whimpers and whines leaving his lips. "Oh—god—" He gulps out, completely dazed.

"Why do you think of me when you jerk off? Why not that girl I've seen come over?" You ask, slightly quickening your pace.

Ethan's eye's roll for a moment before he tries to answer. "Because she isn't— shit— she doesn't look like you. Or sound like you."

"What do I sound like?" You ask, situating yourself more comfortably on the couch.

"You sound like— sound like heaven."

You chuckle. "That's very sweet."

Ethan's hips thrust up into your palm. "I just want to kiss you when you hum random tunes." He confesses. "Want to touch you, because your voice makes my cock— oh god."

"My voice?" You ask, facing him a little more, as Ethan's eyes reach your breasts, bouncing a fraction from the shift.

He groans. "Can I touch you?" He asks desperately.

"I'm only helping you—"

Ethan quickly cuts in. "This will help me...oh god, this will help. Please let me touch you— I-i'll cum quicker if I can touch you."

"…alright—"

Before you manage to say more Ethan's hand is flying out to grab one of your tits, massaging it, as his thumb rubs over your nipple. "Mm, you feel so good...so good." You pump him quicker. "I love your nipples. S-so pretty." He rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

"Are you close, sweetie?" You ask. The pet name makes Ethan thrust harder into your palm.

"Oh, god, oh god." He breathes, his hand moving up your neck to your lips, rubbing along the bottom one. He then sinks his finger past your lips. The feel of your wet mouth makes Ethan whimper pathetically.

"That wasn't an answer." You slightly tease out, as you speak slightly muffled from his finger, which had begun to explore your mouth, running over your tongue.

"Yeah. I'm close. I'm so close— fuck. You’re so pretty." He half prasies half pleads, as his hip thrusts get sloppier.

When he orgasms, his body wracking with pleasure, he spills over his stomach and your hand, as moans and whines leave his lips. He's panting, head leant back against the couch.

With one final stroke you let him go. Ethan slightly whines at the loss of contact even if any more touching would be considered overstimulation. He met your gaze, before glancing down at your tightly pressed thighs. His hand drops from your mouth, bringing your spit down to rub across your thigh.

You quickly grab his hand, keeping it from wandering. Ethan meets your gaze to see that your bringing your other hand up to suck his orgasm off.

Ethan's mouth is open, chest still heaving. He tries to move past your grip, desperately wanting to touch you.

"Ethan."

"I want to touch you." His tone is harsher than initially intended.

You shake your head, the tiniest of smiles edging your lips. "I was only going to help you."

Ethan goes to speak, but you quickly cut in. "And specifically your cock." You whisper, before getting off the couch, the ding of the doorbell breaking the heavy breaths.

You round the couch, placing your shirt back over your head. Ethan watches you, as you pause, slightly leaning over the back of the couch, by Ethan's head, as he gazes up at you.

“That’ll be the pizza.” You say, before leaning closer. “And I finished the movie.” You gesture to the frozen screen of the finished film before heading towards the door, leaving Ethan panting and even more lustful than before.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Let's go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Two days before Christmas. The store is left in tatters. Shelves strewn with sparse lefftovers and aisles hastily paced by those who left their shopping a bit too late. The frantic shoppers searching for a diamond among the sand grains of untouched product.

You work at arranging the remnants of the season’s beauty advent calendars on a table draped in a bright red cloth. There’s a large tag in a metal stand that marks them as ten percent off. On the other side of the holidays, they will drop to a full eighty percent off. You always believed giftcards were a better prize, not that you got many gifts.

That year, Luanne gave you a new journal and a specialty hot chocolate bomb in the department’s secret santa. You go Michelle and gifted her a copy of your favourite novel and some nail polishes. That is the extent of your shopping and gift exchanges. Except for your puppy, Ernie, who will get a bone and one of those special gourmet dog meals.

You finish your arrangement and step back, admiring your work. It’s close to close and so close to the end of the race that the shop isn’t as busy as usual. The only customers you do see are in a rush and horribly disappointed when that very specific thing isn’t in stock.

“Excuse me,” you’re drawn around the deep voice. A man strolls up the center aisle of the beauty section, the tails of his coat flicking behind him, “hi,” he uses your name as he approaches, “I’m so sorry to bother you again but can you point me to, erm,” he looks down at his phone, “a ring light?”

You hesitate. He seems to know you and you admit, he looks familiar. You’re at that point where the faces all blur together. Your one innate flaw is that you really don’t have a good memory for that, bt you definitely recognise his voice.

“Hello, sir,” you fall short of his name. You want to say Alan but you also don’t want to be wrong. “The ring lights are actually with the cellphone.” You gesture back at electronics, “I know it makes more sense to put them with cameras.”

“Ah, oh, thanks,” he nods but doesn’t move to find his quarry, he lowers his phone, “how’s your holiday going? Thing’s slowing down,” he looks around and you can’t help but do the same.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, most people are all done,” you shrug.

“Ha, wish I could say the same,” he sighs, “I thought we were done but the wife just sent me on a wild goose chase.”

“Hm, oh, well, I’m not very busy, did you need help finding anything else?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my manager’s done for the day so doesn’t really matter if I leave my zone,” you say, “kinda boring around here.”

“You’re too sweet,” he smiles, his blue eyes deep and swirling, “and that sweater is adorable.”

You look down at your dark blue sweater with the white crochet peter pan collar. You wiggle your shoulders and grin back at him, thanking him. You know he bought some perfume for his wife but you’re still blanking on his name.

“Here’s my list,” he tilts his phone towards you and looks down, shifting closer to you as he shows you a text bubble.

“Oh my, right. I’m not sure we’ll have everything,” you teethe your lip as you go through the items, “but we’ll see.”

A message pops up over the top and you try not to read, putting your head up as you try to act like you didn’t see it. It’s not that you meant to decipher the words but your brain quickly skimmed that ‘tomorrow night?’ Not much but just feels a bit personal.

“Alright, we’ll go to electronics first, then work our way forward,” you suggest.

“Good idea,” he agrees.

You set off and he follows at just a step. You have to remember to slow down as often you’re so determined you find yourself leaving your customers far behind you. You bring him to the mobile accessories and point to the ring lights.

He considers them and rubs his chin. He points between two; “what’s the difference?”

“Oh, this one comes with a tripod extension and this one is a full kit with a mic,” you point from one to the other.

“What do you think is better for, uh, streaming?” He sounds unsure of that last word.

“I think that kit would have more to it, especially if whoever it’s for is just starting out. But I’m don’t know too much about these things.”

“I’ll take the kit,” he scoops it off the shelf, “the kid can never have enough.”

“Oh? You have kids?”

“One,” he sounds less than excited, “teenager now so he really can’t stand me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he forces away the shadow across his features, “you know how they can be. What about you? You going to see your parents? Spending the day with someone special?”

“Um, just Ernie,” you answer, “my puppy.”

“Cute,” he remarks, “are you guys open tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, yeah, ‘til five,” you try to remember the next thing on his list. 

He seems less concerned with the items than before, instead turn to examine a pop socket, “you have to work on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, closing, but I don’t mind.”

“What’s this?” He holds up a pop socket.

“It goes on your phone,” you pull out your phone and show him your daisy one, “see?” You hook your fingers around it, “it’s a grip to help you hold on.”

“Ah, makes sense,” he turns the thin package over, “kid’s always breaking his screen…”

You wait patiently as he makes up the mind to add the grip to his haul.

“What’s next?” You prompt as gently as you can.

“Oh, uh,” he looks at his phone, “video games…” he squints, “V-bucks?”

“Ah, yes, that would be a gift card,” you say, “I can show you the rack.”

He lets you lead him to the large rack of subscription cards. You point out the various currency amounts available and he rubs his brow. His forehead lines as you see the stress needling in his cheek. He’s struck with the late shopper syndrome. He’s start to feel the crush of time.

“So, just your dog?” He wonders as he picks up a $75 card.

“Yeah,” you answer softly.

“No boyfriend? Siblings?”

“Just me,” you assure him, “I don’t mind. I get to choose the dessert!”

He chuckles, “that’s a good way to look at it. Did you buy yourself something special?”

“Not really, I’ve been saving for a vacation so I put most of my overtime into that,” you explain. “You having a big dinner?”

“Last minute change, wife’s parents want to host. Had to figure out travel plans.” He looks at the giftcards again and your eyes fall to the large back curled up in his arm and the card and phone grip balanced between his fingers. He slides free a Netflix card and reads the fine print.

“Do you want a basket, sir?” You offer.

“Oh, well, sure,” he accepts as he looks down, “that’s very considerate.”

“Don’t want you to drop anything,” you smile and turn on your heel.

You go to the stack of rolling baskets beside the electronics desk. Tyler doesn’t acknowledge you as he sorts through game shells to put back on the shelf. You pull the basket behind you, rattling on its wheels as you approach the shopper by the gift cards.

“Here,” you veer it around towards him.

He bends to lower the ringlight inside and drops the smaller items into next to it; he adds the Netflix subscription along with it and holds onto the Kindle card in his hand.

“You got any of these around?” He holds up the card, “the reader?”

“Hmm, we should,” you rub your neck, “I suppose if we didn’t, you can get a tablet and download the app.”

“I guess,” he nods, “can you check?”

“Of course, sir.”

You turn away and call over your headset. Regan tells you there’s a kindle up in return they can sell. You ask them to put it aside.

“There’s one left at checkout. They’re going to have it waiting for you,” you announce proudly.

“That’s great. You like to read?” He asks.

“Oh, sure, my one vice is my book addiction,” you giggle, “how about you?”

“Well, I don’t get much of a chance with work. I’m usually burnt out from all the legal documents,” he drones grimly, “then the kid has extracurriculars or there’s a PTA meeting or the wife needs something done.”

“Sounds busy,” you say empathetically, “I hope you get some time to relax this holiday.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “I almost envy you. I’m sure your dog’s good company.”

“He’s so sweet,” you can’t help but beam at the mention of your boy.

“Big cuddler?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah,” the question is a bit unexpected, “you like dogs?”

“Never really had one. Don’t need the extra work,” he says, “but I don’t mind them.”

“That’s fair. He can be a bit needy.”

He flinches and looks down at his hand. His screen flashes and he gives an apologetic look as he raises his palm, “I’m so sorry. I need to take this.”

“Take your time, sir, I’ll wander,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb.

He mouths a thanks before he answers, “Barber.”

You back up and turn to distract yourself with the shelf of controllers and switch cases. His deep voice carries but you focus on the Sinatra carol playing overhead to drown him out. Still you can’t help but catch a few words.

“Five, yeah…no, she won’t…it’s fine…” He’s quiet for a moment before he raises his voice, “figure it out.”

His stern tone sends a chill through you. It’s a sharp contrast to his previously friendly demeanour. Well, he mentioned he’s a lawyer, you assume he has a lawyer voice, akin to your customer service one.

“Sorry,” he comes back to you, “my wife…” he takes a breath, “you don’t happen to sell wine here?”

You smile. The way he answered, it didn’t sound very affectionate but maybe he hadn’t expected his wife.

“No, sorry, sir.”

“Kidding,” he chuckles, “well, I guess I should get my butt in gear,” he flicks through his phone, “um, I assume toiletries? Face masks?”

“Oh, that’s near me,” you point back towards beauty, “there’s a special for the sheet masks.”

“Great,” he grabs the extended handle of the basket, “thanks so much for this. I’m so lost.”

“That’s fine,” you go ahead of him, “it’s the job.”

🎀

You groan as you put the last empty bin in the stack. You stand and rub your shoulders, traps sore from all the lifting and moving. The night crew will set up for the day after Christmas but in the last hour of work, you and the few others in the store scrambled to get the old displays torn down.

Luanne walks with you to the employee break room. She’s in more of a hurry as she has her three children waiting for her at their grandparents. She goes ahead of you and punches out as you wait and stretch out your arms.

“Have a good Christmas,” she says breathily as she opens her locker and pulls out her purse and jacket, folding the latter over her arm, “I’ll see you after. You’re opening, right?”

“Sure thing,” you say as you punch in your employee number. “Merry Christmas.”

“Give Ernie some pets for me,” she trills as she goes to the door. “Thanks again. You saved my ass today.”

“No problem, “ you shake your head, “Christmas Eve brings out the best.”

“Does it ever. Bye, sweetie,” she waves over her shoulder as he sweeps through the door.

You go to your locket and take out your fluffy pink sherpa coat and purse. You loop your scarf around your neck and slip your earmuffs around your head. You sit to pull on your boots and stand with an ache in your calves. You feel the fatigue finally setting in. It’s not over yet; one day off and you’re right back to the furor.

You yawn as you leave the breakroom and drag your feet across the store. You take out your phone as you pop your earbuds in and choose your holiday mix. You wave goodbye to a few other stragglers and go out the front door, Spencer locking it behind you.

It’s bitterly cold out. You’re surprised by the fresh fall of snow swirling in the air. It gives an extra sparkle to the time of year.

You scroll through your phone. The buses are on holiday hours already. The next one is in an hour. Great. You can just walk, at least until you get to the next stop. More buses stop there and you can get at least ten minutes within your building.

You trod along, kicking through the powder of snow as headlights gleam ahead of you. You walk along the narrow walk beside the hotel on the other side of the intersection and a pair of flashing tail lights blink ahead of you. A dark figure stands beside the white SUV but you can’t make out much more than their silhouette.

You keep going, peeking up curiously as you near. The boot of the car pops up and the stranded driver searches. As you pass, you trip over an unseen shape, the metal clank painfully against your toe. You look down at the small foot jack.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” the man stands straight and turns to you, “I didn’t see you coming. I was just grabbing the iron–”

“That’s okay,” you pick out your earbuds, “I wasn’t looking.”

“Wait,” he stops short and points a gloved finger in your direction, “it’s you. You work at the store just down the way, right?”

You know the man. He’s the one who was in the store just yesterday. There’s a flutter in your chest at the coincidence of your encounter. It happens, especially in the shopping district. Half the city at least passes through her during the holidays.

“Yeah, uh, that’s me. You finish your shopping?”

“Just about,” he tuts and shakes his head, “blew a tire. So, happy holidays to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you look down at the snowy walk.

“Mhmm,” he grumbles, “all this snow, I can’t get the jack to work either.”

“Dang, unfortunately, I’m not help. I don’t know much about cars.”

“That’s fine, I called roadside assistance but they’re taking their damn time,” he checks his watch.

“Oh…” you utter.

“Don’t let me rain on your holiday, honey,” he says, “your toe okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you look down.

“Wait, are you walking home?” He asks.

You nod.

“Wish I could offer you a ride. This weather’s only getting worse,” he bemoans. He slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out his phone, “they should be here shortly so if–”

A set of headlights pull onto the apron and roll towards you. You look over as the man beside you does the same. You stand, somewhat dumbfounded at the unexpected run-in. 

“That’s them,” he declares, “hey, guys.”

He waves as the white van pulls up. You were expecting a tow truck. Oh, well. Not your problem.

“Great, I guess I should get going,” you excuse yourself, “have a happy holi–”

As you step back, your heel catches on something. You don’t realise until your plummeting onto your ass that the man stuck his leg out behind you. You hit the ground with an oomph, barely missing the metal jack half-buried in the snow.

You hear the van door sliding open and a clatter of heavy treads. You can barely catch your breath as the world moves fast around you. The man bends over you as another rushes over, grabbing you off the ground as the two vehicles block out the street from view.

“Be nice,” the first man warns as your arms are seized. “Don’t hurt her.”

You suck in a deep breath. What is happening? You go to let out the shriek as you’re struck by the situation. This can’t be real but you’re being half-carried towards an open vehicle. A hand comes up and stifles your scream, smothering you as you’re yanked harshly forward.

“Careful,” the man girds again.

“Shut the fuck up,” the other grits and pulls you away from the other, spinning you around as he hooks an arm around your neck and covers your mouth, forcing you towards the van. He bends backwards, lifting your feet as you kick and squirm.

“Honey, calm down,” the friendly customer coaxes, “it’s okay.”

You don’t understand. Why are they doing this? Why you?

The man’s hand slips as you grab at his arms and your teeth come over the vee between thumb and index. You bite down and he yowls. Even through his leather glove, you give him a viscous pinch.

“Fuck!” He tosses you forward so your knees hit the side of the van and fall half-inside.

“Hurry the fuck up,” another voice calls from inside the van.

“Trying,” the second man snarls as you stand and let out a shrill note, only for a second before you’re caught from behind and muted again. This time the leather glove seals over your nose. “Fucking bitch.” 

You’re lifted into the van, writhing and kicking as the door slides shut from the outside. You’re pinned on the floor in the seatless rear of the vehicle. You whimper as your eyes glisten with a sudden spring of tears. 

That question rings in your head again; why you? You have no one to look for you, no one to care. It’s only you against them.

[highhhfiveee]

safety net, part two

part one: 💸 | part three: 📹

are we excited???? prepare your hearts cause the feels kinda took over

pairing: pornstar!mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: mike and reader are both genuine people and that draws them to each other. wc: 3.5k tags: fluff, lots of internal pining, porn mentions but nothing graphic. should be error free bc i actually proofread this one but if there are any, my sincerest apologies

“you have to be, like, evading taxes or something.”

mike chuckles behind you as he closes the door to his apartment--sorry, penthouse.

you're stood with your jaw unhinged, eyes scanning over the wide, sweeping space of his open concept living room and all of the furniture that decorates it, expensive-looking but cozy in a way that you wish you could replicate in your own place. you stalk over to tall windows that line the farthest wall, creating a corner that allows for you to see the bustling city below; all of the flashing lights, people drunkenly stumbling around street signs, and cars zipping and weaving through traffic.

you'd never seen anything like this, just a girl used to the urban suburbs on the south side of town, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment when you feel mike's presence behind you. you don't turn to him, dropping your shoes and purse to the ground and keeping your eyes trained on a street corner below.

"the view's what sold me on the place. i'm able to watch the sunrise on that side," he points to the windows on the other side of the kitchen, offering a view of the green space nestled in between skyscrapers. "and the sunset on this one."

"must be nice," you reply, backing away from the glass and observing the rest of the space. it was the size of, like, three of your apartments combined, organized and free of mess. "i only have a view of a corner store, and a really really busy bus stop. it's super annoying."

"where do you live?"

you give him the name of the neighborhood you'd known your whole life. you didn't recognize any of the area's flaws when you were a child. it was never a red flag to you that the street off of the one you grew up on had two storefronts of the same fast food chain on either end, or that the closest supermarket was twenty minutes away. you hadn't even batted an eye when some of your school “friends” would tell you about visiting gourmet cupcake restaurants and vintage consignments stores. you just went along with it, saying, "that's so cool. the fanciest place by my house is the $7.99 buffet." they all laughed at you.

it wasn't until you were older, freshly graduated from high school and looking to be on your own that you realized the disparity across the region. only people with certain attributes got the nice things, and you'd been conditioned to be grateful to have a daycare in a plaza with a smoke shop and tax preparation office.

"it's just too expensive for me to move anywhere else. i can barely make rent now, with the way they keep raising it every year. kept the tag on this dress just so i could take it back." you look down at yourself and mike can see the longing in your eye, the twinkle in them that wishes you could hang it up in your closet tomorrow.

after tonight, you kind of wish you hadn't bought it at all. you thought that simon would’ve found it insatiable, wining and dining you before taking you back to his place for a night cap, but all you think about now is the embarrassment of walking back into the luxury department store, handing them your receipt for the item you wore once and couldn’t keep.

it fills you with distaste and you find yourself desperate to peel the item off your skin. “is it okay if i shower?”

mike nods furiously, apologizing for not offering. he’d just been staring at you while you talked, admiring you. he was used to people with perfect appearances around him, done up by professionals that costed $200 an hour, but you were different, uncaring about your unruly curls and smeared eyeliner. you were unbothered and carefree, and that fascinated him.

he leads you down a long hall, coming to a stop once it forks into three different directions: left, right, and slightly diagonal right. the walls are lined with paintings and photos of mike and people that share his features, and at the end of the diagonal path is a giant trophy case, filled to the brim with plaques and trophies of various sizes, shapes, and finishes.

“jesus,” you murmur, abandoning your escort. mike’s walked ahead of you, but he makes his way back when he notices you’re not behind him.

“everything okay?”

you point to his trophy case, letting out an incredulous laugh. “are all of those for you?”

mike nods, and you laugh again, shaking your head in disbelief. “okay, so you’re obviously some sports star because no way someone living like this wouldn’t be.”

mike goes rigid next to you. he never knew how to bring up his career to new people he met, sometimes ping-ponging between “i work for a world-renown production company” and “i’m an entrepreneur”. he had no problem lying to other people, his guard all the way up from years of rejection and disgust at the mention of “sex worker” and “pornstar”, but something felt wrong about lying to you. he swallows hard, racking his mind for a semi truth.

“not sports, but definitely still physical.” you scrunch your nose at this, blinking at him in confusion, but you stop when he grabs your hand and nudges his head in the direction of the bathroom. “didn’t you want to shower?”

you nod, allowing him to pull you down the hall but not without a second glance at the case. what other physical career presented you with that many awards?

the bathroom is a star in it's own right, modern in a way that you fawn over when you're watching hgtv. the gigantic, complicated looking shower invites you from the corner, nestled in between the gadget-rigged toilet and garden bathtub.

all of the decor in here was clean, pale blue, a nice offset to all of the white tile and gold-accented appliances.

you're half-listening, your conscience replaced with static as mike explains where everything is. "so...towels are over here..."

his shower had a rainforest head and a small, handheld one clipped into a holder, with a screen embedded into the wall. there was a bench and railing to hold onto, a speaker on the back tile....your eyes cut to the toilet, and the smaller one next to it. a bidet??????

"...and, the bidet remote's right next to the soap. i'll lay some clothes out for you on the hall table, but let me know if you need anything, okay?" you react a little too late, raising your hand and squeaking, "wait" right as mike's backed out of the room.

"fuck."

you try to look around for things, eventually finding the towels in a closet concealed as a part of the wall and, as a bonus, a knob to turn on the heated floor?????

you strip down, completely bare under the dress, and fold it up, retail employee coded, delicately placing it by the sink with the tag on top. it was exactly how you'd return it, with a shitty excuse and plastic smile. you do the same with mike's jacket.

you throw your hair up before wrapping yourself in the towel, delicately cloaked in what had to be egyptian cotton, and pace on over to the shower. you tap the daunting screen, and it lights up with a flourish, displaying the date, time, weather, and a host of different icons.

you don't know why it's so hard for you to turn the shower on, scrolling and bumbling through a collection of options that weren't simply turn on. why did you need to use a screen anyway? why reinvent the simple wheel that was a faucet lever?

you decide you need mike's help after a bit, though self-conscious about having to ask after he probably told you earlier. you splash cool water on your face before leaving the room, attempting to wring the anxiety out of your body.

you're at the fork in the hallway again, the view of you obscured from the living room by a wall, and you turn your attention to mike's trophy case again. you're too far to see any of the engravings on anything and you're so curious to find out what they say.

you feel your muscles attempt to pull you down the lonely hall, but you halt, reminding yourself that mike was a kind person who'd invited you into his home, and you were supposed to be showering, not snooping. still, even with the moment of morality, untrustworthy interest prodded at your brain.

mike's exiting his room with a handful of clothes for you when he catches you, arms wound around yourself to keep your towel up. you haven't seen him yet, your gaze fixed on something down the hall. he gulps softly, unaware that he would see you like this so early in your connection. your long neck cranes forward to see better, and he prematurely wonders if you're sensitive there, mind swirling with musings of bites and marks.

"something wrong?" you jolt, blinking and stammering and damn near jestering as you attempt to defend yourself. mike doesn't look at you with malice or cynicism, simply stepping closer as your eyes flitter around. "i, uh...i need help with the shower. i don't know how to turn it on."

mike huffs, squinting his eyes at you jovially. "that the only thing?" fuck.

you drop your shoulders with a deep sigh, throwing a pointed finger down the hall. "i also wanna know why you have all those awards." there's a small, almost undetectable change in mike's face, his eye twitching. you watch him shrug it off, placing a hand on your shoulder to lead you back to the bathroom. "i'll explain after you shower."

you're puzzled as to why he's so cagey about it, but you don't question it, accepting his statement and finally listening to him as he explains what to do

you're alone again after he sets the clothes down and leaves. he took your dress, easing you with "just going to hang it up. no worries" and a sheepish smile, and you're eager, ready to hear about what he does and how he's able to afford all this, including this shower that provides you with the best shower you think you've ever taken.

you're able to get the water to the perfect temp, scalding, with the perfect amount of pressure to sting your skin and make you feel clean. you wash away all of your worries; thoughts of keeping a roof over your head, being okay, and finding a genuine connection extinguished with the hum of soft jazz and lather of ylang ylang scented soap.

you lotion yourself with one of the various creams on mike's counter, soothed by the powder smell, and slip into the clothes you're provided--a pair of soft, heart-covered boxers and a university t-shirt, faded into burgundy from countless washes.

mike's sitting on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on his phone when the the demure pitter patter of your feet sounds against the floors, and he swears he almost dies when he sees you.

maybe it hadn't been totally random when he chose the clothes for you, deciding to give you two of his favorite items so he could see how they looked on you. the shirt, very lived in and from his alma mater, skirted your thighs and covered up his boxers, draping over your lithe body in a way that made his mouth go dry.

"okay," you call, dropping beside him on the couch. the wispy hairs around your hairline frame your clean face, guiding his attention to the smattering of dark moles around your eyes and temples. "tell me. what are all of those awards for?"

"do you want some water or something?" he interrupts, and while you accept, you furrow your eyebrows at him. he gets up with the swiftness of a nascar pit crew, and you hold your gaze on him, pivoting your body as he moves.

"mike, c'mon, what gives? you can trust me."

his back is towards you, filling a glass with water from the filtered water faucet. he hunches at your baffled tone, your voice all soft and downcast.

he wants to scream because it's so easy to just come out and tell you what he does. you didn't say anything at the restaurant, but maybe you'd put two and two together when he finally told you truth, remembering a thumbnail from the porn site of your choosing. he wasn't ashamed---nowhere near that. he'd been in the industry almost a decade, moving past the internalized and societally-imposed scrutiny he felt for his career. it was other people that were ashamed, other people that turned their nose up at him because of what they assumed he was; sleazy, devious, a player. he'd had so many connections blow over because of it, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle that happening with you.

you just stare at his back, watching it rise and fall with every laboured breath he takes. what was so bad about what he did that he couldn’t just tell you? he was obviously good at whatever it was, and you wondered if it was a front for something. maybe he disarmed you with his nice guy act, and he lured you here to kill you an—-

the clink of glass on glass brings you back to reality. mike is beside you again, staring blankly ahead while he wrings his hands.

“i’m a pornstar,” he utters plainly. he squeezes his eyes shut, expecting you to make a noise of disgust or get up and leave, but you don’t.

he opens one eye, and then both. you’re staring at him with no concrete expression, lips pursed. he closes his eyes again, counting in his head before opening them once more.

you’re still there, and it almost makes him cry.

“that checks out,” you muse. you’re fairly non reactive, but not because his admission freaks you out. you’re thinking back to the awards, the sheer amount of them in that case, and how good he really must be at what he does. “why didn’t you want to tell me?”

he runs a hand through his hair, melting into his couch with boyish reserve. his eyes are a mixed bag, bouncing between relief and despair. “people run every time i tell them. lots of them act like i just told them i killed their childhood pet and it's just so...disheartening, y'know?

"i just don't get it because it's just like any other job. you work, fucking hard, because you want to perform at your best, just like anyone else. the stigma around it never goes away, no matter how hard you try to convince people. they think you get around outside of it, having sex every second of every day, or that you're gonna mess around with your coworkers and give them something. it's like the trust level is in hell before you're even able to prove yourself." you scoot closer to mike without a word and place your hands over his. his rings are cold against your palm.

it's a gentle gesture. the airy smile you give pacifies him and he swears he's never felt anything like what he feels now.

"i'm not here to judge you, mike. i never will. sex work is a completely valid career, just like anything else. i'm sorry about all those shitty people who made assumptions about you."

"no need to apologize," he whispers, adjusting his hands so that they cradle yours now. you tilt your head down bashfully, lashes fluttering. "all those times led me here."

you two chat for a long while. mike tells you all about the production company he works for, how he got into the business, what his work schedule's like, the community of other stars that he works with, his stage name. you can tell he's passionate about it, lost in his rambles and talking with his hands. certain words segue your convo into other topics, like books and food and pop culture. you two have a lot more than coffee in common.

"i was surprised you didn't recognize me, honestly. not in a douchey way, but just because everyone does. it's usually the first thing they come up to me with." you could only imagine, being approached with "i've come to all of your work" in the condiment aisle at the grocery store.

"i don't watch professional porn really. too staged for me."

"i get that. i think you'd like our content. we really found a good balance between professional quality and ethical, genuine, safe fun."

you try to stay nonchalant, not wanting to betray the fact that you're itching to watch something of his work. "that's really nice. i bet you have quite the catalog."

"almost ten years worth so, yeah, i'd say," he chuckles, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth. "enough about me though. what do you do for work?"

"nothing as exciting and well-paying as porn. i type letters and numbers into a computer in a cubicle. it barely pays the bills, but i've worked in too many customer service jobs to ever go back." mike agrees. you're about to say something else when you're interrupted by a yawn, unhinging your jaw like an animal. you quickly cover your mouth, muttering, "jeez. sorry." you didn't realize it, but you were tired, exhausted from the night you had.

"it's okay, it is pretty late." he checks the time on his phone and turns it to you. 2:23 am. had you two really been talking on this couch for 3 hours? "i can show you to the guest room if you're tired. i have a shoot tomorrow anyway so i should get to bed too."

"sure," you whisper, grabbing his hand when he extends it to you. he pulls you to your feet like you weigh nothing at all, and you tail behind him like a lovesick puppy.

you're feeling that tingly ball of warmth in your stomach, the one you've felt with every person you thought you'd marry. you usually indulge in it, but with mike, it scares you. why do you feel like this after one night with a man you barely even know?

it's rash and inappropriate, you decide, and you're still convincing yourself as you slide under the black satin sheets and duvet on mike's king sized guest bed. you recline on the satin-covered pillows, sinking into the memory foam. it's a nice departure from your noisy childhood mattress back at home.

"do you have work tomorrow?" you shake your head, and mike claps his hands together with a cheer.

"yay. i'll be leaving around 8 or so, but feel free to sleep in and hang around as long as you want. the remote for the blinds is right there, i'll put a toothbrush out for you, and there's all kinds of food in the kitchen. help yourself. just let me know when you're leaving so i can lock the door."

your eyes squint. "you're gonna lock the door after i leave?"

mike nods, smiling excitedly and geekily diving into his rationale. "mhm, i have a smart lock. i can do it from my phone."

you're so tired that the words just foolishly tumble out of your mouth. "you must have great dick."

mike lets out a laugh that's a blend of flattered, nervous, and amused and you're both red-cheeked and flustered. "i am so fucking sorry, i, uh..y--" you stammer over all of your words, finally able to wrench out, "a smart lock just sounds expensive."

mike stares you down with fascination, backing towards the door. "watch the videos and find out for yourself, yeah?" he winks at you, and you gulp so loudly you're sure he hears. "goodnight, y/n. sleep well.”

"you too,” you croak.

you're out like a light once he leaves, but not before telling yourself to put up a new sticky note at home: “watch mike's porn."

you awake what feels like days later, refreshed and made anew. you click on the remote for the curtains, and they rise slowly, flooding the room with rich early afternoon sun. the clock on the nightstand reads 12:38 pm.

you hop to your feet and make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face before stalking to the living room. it's filled with light, and you think about how you'd probably never be depressed living in a place like this.

a box, red and moderately sized, sits upon the kitchen counter. you think you should ignore it, but as you get closer, you see a paper with your name scrawled across it. you like your name in mike's voice and handwriting.

you pull up the lid and inside is your dress from last night with the tag missing, two fat wads of hundred dollar bills, and another note that reads, “you deserve to feel beautiful and pay your rent <3 call this number when you're ready to go home. -m”.

in this moment, you're 100% positive that you're falling in love.

wow wow wow wow. they are so fucking CUTE! i love themmmmmmm <3 hopefully this tides y'all over for a bit because i need to outline the rest of their story, and i wanna work on some other stories for a little bit 💜 more parts are definitely coming, have no fear! i'd also like to say that while i use y/n in my stories, reader is typically a character that i'm inventing. using your own name and likeness while you read is totally fine, of course! i just use y/n as a placeholder name for my reader character bc i don't feel like coming up with character names all the time <3 sorry if that doesn't make sense 💔 i hope you all enjoyed! happy reading my seedlings 🌱💜

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtsss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz

[luxstring]

The night is young, I just hope by the time it reaches midnight, this wonderful event won’t disappear

Set to Home Screen: All set? Don’t lie, I know you are. Take my hand and we’ll depart or do you wish to be late?

Home Transition:

1: Such a large crowd, this rivals even the biggest events I’ve been invited to! Though considering neighboring schools were Invited I should’ve expected this

2: Before accepting the invitation to this event, I had to ask the organizer if I could invite a few ghosts… I needed a few people to watch over my chaotic dorm students Incase I’m needed somewhere

3: When I heard a glass broke from one of the students, I dreaded to think It was one of those trouble makers. Thankfully It wasn’t them, surprisingly

4: Elegant attires from everyone! Maybe I could ask one of them of the fabric they used to create them, they look wonderful!

Home, after Login: The nostalgia I feel when I look around the center of the ballroom. The first sight of the people dancing was such a magical moment, It reminds me of… nevermind

Tap Home:

1: Although I’m already used to it, this suit is a bit stuffy. This is only 20 years old, How did I grow into it?

2: Finding the Belle of the ball? Well I certainly won’t predict this one, not knowing who and find out who will be is the best part

3: I unfortunately had a few students ask me if they’ll be the Belle of the ball. People like them irk me, so I looked through my scry glass and told them that they weren’t. Honestly, I just wanted them to leave me be

4: I might ask the main organizer to have a dance with me, as a way to say my thanks for the invitation and allowing me to add a few plus ones

5: Hmm, the buffet has a few sweets that I’ve been eyeing… excuse me for a bit. I’ll be making a few desserts in that table disappear.

GROOVY: [LOCKED]

This fancy~ event, Glimmering Soirée, is a twst fan event hosted by the lovely @starry-night-rose

Outfit design under the cut

It honestly looks kinda simple to be an SSR card but let me have this.

Anyways, the people who have been participating in this event have been giving so many beautiful art and their mutuals are eating G O O D. I wanted to participate as well, since I haven’t drawn my son in anything for so long plus the event is fancy and so get to draw him in fancy clothes~

The groovy might take a while, since I’ll be busy shuffling my playlist for the perfect song to draw to… excuse me while I disappear for a few days

[fanon-elio]

By your side.

Part 1

Summary: You are the CEO of a big company and hired Lycaon as your personal attendant, however it seems that your wolfish butler has developed a crush on you. So while you and him were on a business trip, both of you were forced to confront your growing feelings for eachother.

Tag: Sfw

Pairing: Von Lycaon x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is completely fictional and is not canon. You are responsible for the content you consume, so if the following warnings trigger you, you may read at your own risk.

Warnings: Fluff, Slow burn'ish, long fic, mutual pining, reader is smaller than lycaon, lycaon is down bad horrendous, friends to lovers type stuff, slight suggestive themes at the end.

Angst, Sexism (Not by Lycaon), slight racism (Not by Lycaon), jealousy, reader is lowkey burned out.

Other warnings: lowkey my first fanfiction, pls go easy on me. (T^T)

Yes, this fanfiction WILL contain Nsfw in the future.

I added some throw-away characters to the story as plot devices, no they're not oc's and they hold no importance to the story other than providing character development.

This fic contains a lot of scenarios written in Lycaons pov cuz i eat this shit up for breakfast.

I did not intent for this fic to become so long, that i had to split it into different parts. But i'm lowkey kinda happy how it turned out. Sorry for any possible mistakes. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. also, don't mind me adding a drawing i made just for vibes. Enjoy!

Lycaon has been your personal attendant for over a year now, attending to your every wish and request dutifully while you were busy handling your business.

At first Lycaon thought this was just going to be a job like any other, only to be proven wrong rather quickly. To say that both of you hit it off right away would be a slight understatement, it was shocking how good you two got along and understood eachother.

You impressed him with your steadfastness and professionalism when it came to your business. Something that seemed to resonate with him, and not only because your company specializes in custom-made prosthetics for humans and thirens alike. Even though this was what originally caught his attention, since his own mechanical legs were quite difficult to overlook.

Said mechanical legs were also the reason what made him so invested to support you where he could. A wish to see you succeed because your work greatly benefited other people - people just like him.

When you one day asked him if he could accompany you for a business trip to meet potential new investors, he accepted immediately without a second thought.

So with your ever so attentive right hand always by your side, you got in your car and were on your way.

---~---

Lycaon wanted to make your trip as enjoyable and comfortable for you as he possibly could, this is what you hired Victoria housekeeping for after all. Making sure your every desire was satisfied, and your every wish fulfilled was his duty to you...

So now imagine his sheer discontent at the current situation as he was forced to watch you awkwardly eat, or at least tried to eat the food you had on your plate without it coming back up.

"Caviar, what a pretentious meal" he had thought, clearly he would have made something better for you instead of whatever your plate was currently punishing you with. But the awful food wasn't the only thing what made this meal so infuriating, but rather the person on the other side of the table. A rich business man who had invited you to dinner a day prior to the planned gala which was the main reason of your trip.

If it were him, he would have declined the invitation. However, you hoped to draw a benefit out of the invitation - wanting to win this new investor for your cause.

Yesterday he had respected, if not even praised you for your decision. But right now he hoped you would throw your plate at said investor's face, good manners be damned. The short man, who barely didn't reach to Lycaon's chest, was ranting on and on about his achievements, trying oh so desperately to impress you on a more private level instead of the professional setting his earlier sent, very formal invitation was supposed to set up. And what was even more painful was not this poor excuse of a meal, or the way that man's voice hurt in Lycaon's ears, it was the way how he treated you.

He has interrupted you at least 5 times now, shooting down any of your advances to steer the conversation into what you were originally here for, and he grew more frustrated by the second.

"Of course I'm aware of the common folk's suffering, I myself invested a pretty penny in the research of joint and hip replacements, even going as far as to pay for a dozen surgeries for people who couldn't afford it, out of my own pocket i might add" He bragged, clearly nothing more than empty words in an attempt to woe you.

"That's wonderful, I'm glad you see the importance of our cause, I'm thankful that you want to support us as an investor-" you once again tried to redirect the conversation... "naturally I couldn't say no to such a stunning young Lady such as yourself" ...but once again failed.

Lycaons ear flicked in annoyance as your host continued to shamelessly flirt with you, while he was forced to listen.

Even though it is shameful and rather scandalous for Lycaon to admit, he has indeed developed feelings for you.

Feelings that go far beyond that of those an attendant should have for their employer but he couldn't help himself but be in awe of you. Of how you're able to be so strong and yet so kind, so strict and yet so graceful, so serious and yet so playful, the later a side only he gets to see when you allow him to indulge in the trust and friendship you have built with him.

And yet, both of you were once again forced to listen to another audition of your host's self-indulgent rambling.

"I was honestly surprised when you showed up earlier" he said suddenly, "how so?" You replied, politely putting down your fork as you reached for your drink hoping to wash the awful taste off your tongue it seems "In all honesty, I would have expected a man to show up instead of a woman" the man across from you spoke, and you grimaced clearly not only because of your drinks taste that was ordered for you by your host, insisting you drink some expensive wine with him, but also because of the sheer rudeness of the others answer. "Is that so?" You put down your glass and Lycaon had to supress a growl that threatened to escape his throat.

"Don't take this the wrong way sweetheart, it's just surprising nowadays to see a woman running a succesful business that doesn't include fashion or make-up" you briefly closed your eyes and took in a silent breath while Lycaon clenched his fist behind his back. "Times have definitely changed, Mr. Goldman" you replied, trying to stay polite despite the sexism thrown your way.

Lycaon on the other hand, tried to come up with any sort of excuse to get you out of this awful situation, clenching his jaw so painfully hard he was surprised his teeth didn't crack under the pressure. Clearly this man didn't see eye to eye with you, treating you like a trophy he's trying to win, completely disregarding and undermining your achievements and reducing you to nothing more than a pretty face.

How disgusting he thought.

"Please allow me to invite you to a party tonight, a pretty little thing like you would fit in just right" he shot a wink your way and Lycaon swore he saw you shudder for a moment. "But you can't bring him" Mr. Goldman said, using his fork to point at Lycaon. "Why does it bother you so?" You asked, now having completely abandoned the polite smile you wore just a few seconds ago. "It's a party of class of course, my apologies miss, but he doesn't fit in with the rest" Lycaon shot him a quick glare "he'd have to stay outside with the other pets" he felt his blood boiling, he's just about had it with this pretentious, condescending and sexist piece of shit.

However, he straightened his posture, remaining polite and professional. He gave you a quick glance as a silent way of asking for permission to make a break for the exit with you, maybe kicking that wimp across the room on his way out.

But his swirling thoughts were interrupted by you gently pushing your chair back and standing up.

"My apologies but I'm afraid I won't be able to attend then..." you spoke firm but still polite "...Lycaon is to remain by my side" you spoke and Lycaons heart skipped a beat. "Surely you can find someone else to accompany you for tonight miss y/n" your host argued, "I'm afraid not Mr. Goldman" you spoke, giving Lycaon a quick glance and the permission he needed.

With a small flash of satisfaction thrumming through his veins, he swiftly moved towards the door, opening it for you, "this way please." He said, bowing politely.

You grabbed your purse and made your way towards the door, making sure to give your was-host another glare on your way out. "Furthermore, Lycaon is not a pet" you said, not even trying to hide your discontent at the other's comment towards your companion.

"We'll see each other tomorrow at the gala, have a pleasant day Mr. Goldman" you replied as the door fell shut behind you and Lycaon.

---~---

The ride back to the vacation home you were currently residing in was quiet. Lycaon noticed that you seemed to be absorbed in your thoughts, possibly reflecting on anything that had happened.

He wanted to say something to ease your nerves, but couldn't find the right words. So instead, he opted to let you have the time you needed to wrap your head around the situation and how to act from here, since Mr. Goldman definitely didn't seem like a reliable support for your company or any other situation for that matter.

You came to a stop at a red light, and he couldn't help but glance at you again, at the way the sun cast a gentle glow on the features of your face and the way it almost seemed to make your hair shine in response to it's gentle rays of light. He once again finds himself greatly impressed by you, with the way you stood firmly to your standards and morals, how you remained patient and professional even though that filth didn't deserve an ounce of your kindness. However, more so than anything, it is the words you spoke at that moment that still vividly swirl in his mind,

"Lycaon is to remain by my side."

He loved the way you said it, perfectly capturing his own desire.

It is quite apparent to him that he no longer views his current situation as a job, he enjoys it way too much for that, and yet a small piece of his consciousness still berated him for acting like a love drunk puppy for so openly and unabashedly admiring you. You seemed to notice his gaze lingering on you and turned your head to look at him - but he had looked away just at that moment so you wouldn't notice how starstruck he appeared, at least he hoped you didn't. And yet, a small smile still found a way onto his lips.

He pulled into the driveway of your current abode, he felt glad to be back so early, despite the given turn of events at your "dinner."

While he got out, walking over to your side of the car to open the door for you, he already thought about what he could do to get your mind off that incident to at least make your day end on a positive Note.

Both of you entered the spacious place you and him called home for the time being. You sighed in relieve as you kicked off your high heels, whining at your terribly sore feet. You were glad this day was finally over, even though you felt all the more anxious about tomorrow's gala.

With your meteoric rise to fame also came a lot of pressure. The demand for your services and products rose daily. So much so that you had to expand your production efforts, almost doubling your expenses in the process. Dispite that, your manufacturing department was still slowly starting to get overwhelmed. However, the need for new employees couldn't be met without the necessary funding.

You made your way towards the kitchen, watching Lycaon as he was already preparing a proper dinner for you both. "Do you need help by any chance" you asked, even though you already knew the answer "I appreciate your offer master, but there is no need" yup, thought so "why don't you sit down in the livingroom and relax master, you had a straining day, and deserve a break." He said, shifting his attention back to cooking, "I shall inform you once dinner is ready"

Lycaon has always been that way, ever since he'd started working for you. But the more time you two spend together, the closer you two became, forming quite the strong friendship with eachother. Even though you hoped it would be more than that.

If you're being fully honest, you had developed a crush on the wolfish gentleman for quite some time now.

Okay, it might be more than just a little crush with the way he makes your heart race when he looks at you, or your head all dizzy with euphoria when he speaks with you while his deep voice still sends pleasant shivers down your spine.

He was easy to talk to and always had an open ear. Even though you did feel guilty by the way he was constantly spoiling you, wanting absolutely nothing more in return than your smile. In return, you started to praise him where you could, swooning over the way his ears tend to flick or the way his tail would wag a little, subtly portraying his feelings to you dispite his efforts to stay professional. You enjoyed when he was happy, so much so that you would always have to fight the urge to ask him if he would allow you to pet him.

"Dinner is served master"

---~---

After dinner, you found yourself sitting at the small bar of your kitchen. A glass martini Lycaon prepared for you in your hand as you engaged in riveting conversation with him, gossiping about your shared experience with Mr. Goldman as he did the dishes.

"And that awful vest of his? Olive green with orange? I don't think" you laughed and Lycaon secretly preened at the sound. "I was terribly tempted to throw my drink at him let me tell you, a shot of red would have been nothing short of a favor" you replied, and he nodded fully agreeing "unfortunately it wouldn't have made his face any more tolerable" he responded "much less his nasty attitude." Lycaon was still very sour of the other man's behaviour towards you. However, he felt his heart soaring when he remembered how you had stood up for him. "Well, to be fair, it sure would have distracted from it at least." You said before chugging the rest of your drink "even if it would have enraged him?" He asked, putting a clean plate to the side as he grabbed the next. You chuckled, "And even so, I can always count on you to protect me, can I not?" His tail began to wag a little at your words, and you were satisfied with yourself at his reaction, "Absolutely, master."

"Still, I applaud you for staying as calm as you did" Lycaon admitted, and you let out a sigh, his ears immediately perking up at the sound. "My apologies if I'm prying master" he turned his head to look at you, your own resting in your hand, "are you nervous about tomorrow's gala?" He asked, slight concern shining through his oh so polished demeanor.

"A little bit, not gonna lie" you admitted, "I just hope there won't be more people like him at the gala tomorrow" you said. A silence coming over you, rage still bubbling in your gut when you remembered how Mr. Goldman had compared Lycaon to a pet. "Eh, and even so, I hope they have better food at least" you said "I mean, caviar? Really? That's way too cliché" he smiled, concerned at you spacing out but still glad to know you shared the same opinion as him.

He was aware of your worries.

Your financial situation being the topic at every meeting, and he worried greatly for your health as he watched you plunge yourself into your work, day after day without a break. He remembered the days when he had to force you to take a break, sleep or even eat something. He desperately wanted to save you from the burnout that slowly creeped up on you.

"I think I'll be hitting the hay" you said through a yawn, getting up from where you'd been sitting. Lycaon looked at you as he pondered how he could ease your worries, even if just for a little.

He dried off his hands and walked around the kitchen counter, "could you spare one more moment for me, master?" He asked, and you turned around, seeing him approaching. "Of course, what's up?" He didn't speak, instead he moved and gently pulled you into an embrace.

It wasn't restraining nor unpleasant, it was comforting and warm as you felt his arms wrap around you. "Don't worry master, I'm sure your hard work will pay off at tomorrow's gala" he spoke, low and gentle. You hugged him back, hearing faint rustling which you suspected to be his wagging tail.

Both of you pulled back, as this tender moment you and Lycaon shared slowly came to an end, even tho neither of you wanted it to. Both of you decided to retire for the night, tomorrow would be a straining day for the both of you after all.

Sleep would come quickly for you thanks to that bit of alcohol in your system, while Lycaon would lay awake for just a little longer, thinking about you as he tried to memorize the way you felt in his arms, letting this one certain sentence replay in his mind once again as he drifted off to sleep.

Lycaon is to remain by my side.

---~---

Everything was still dead silent as your eyes cracked open. You blinked a few times, wondering what time it was as you reached for your phone on the bedside table. Glancing at the display, as the discomfort from the sudden brightness slowly faded.

You sighed heavily as you looked at the daunting digits, solidifying your suspicion.

3:27 am

You tossed and turned, but couldn't find the comforting sleep you yearned for. Your stomache growled and you pondered going for a midnight snack.

With a sigh, you sat up and stretched, cringing at the cracking sound of your joints. Rubbing your eyes, you swung your legs out of bed and made your way towards the kitchen to make yourself a much-needed midnight snack.

You cussed out the sandman for once again having ghosted you as you rounded the corner, a flash of white catching your eye, and you stopped. Even though you knew that Lycaon was definitely an early bird type of person, you still didn't expected to find him standing in the kitchen at the same ungodly hour. The soft light of the opened refrigerator filling the room as you peaked around the corner, taking in his appearance.

It was surprising to see your wolfish butler, who was normally so professional and serious about how he presented himself to others, stumble shirtless and rather sleep dazed through the kitchen. His mechanical feet clacking on the ground and his tail swishing behind him as he moved around.

Never in the entire time he has worked for you have you ever seen him out of uniform, and the more you took in his disheveled appearance and his strong and muscular body, the less you seemed to care to admit that he was painfully handsome.

Ah hell, smocking hot would be a better fit. Naturally you assumed he was working out, but you had no idea your personal attendant was this ripped. You felt a bit embarrassed as you continued gawk at your friend and buttler's biceps and abs. You caught a glimpse of his teeth as he yawned, further noticing how different he looked without his muzzle and eye patch.

You let your gaze wander down to his prosthetics, slowly seeming to sober up, as you wondered what had happened to him that left him in such a state. From missing arms to missing legs, you had encountered your fair share of injuries since starting your business, but never had you asked what had happened before. Neither your clients and especially not Lycaon not wanting to pry into his past. Too afraid of accidentally offending him by reopening past wounds, and yet you couldn't help but wonder how he must feel. loosing one leg must be traumatizing enough, but both?

He closed the refrigerator and the sound of it ripped you out of your trance. You watched him as he scratched the back of his neck seemingly making his way back to bed, and you hoped that sleep still had enough of a grasp on him that he wouldn't notice your presence.

You decided to carefully make your way back to your bedroom as well, as not to embarrass him with a sudden entrance while he was so scarcely dressed. You hoped to actually find sleep again because you couldn't help the feeling that tomorrow would be an awfully difficult day.

---~---

Part 2 ->

Listen,

When i tell you that I absolutely did not mean to make this fanfiction this long.

At first it was supposed to be a oneshot, but as it so happens, i got absolutely carried away. And after +2k words i realized that i might wanna split this fanfiction up, cuz ain't nobody on tumblr wanna read an entire essay. Also, it's the way how anxious i am uploading this help. Let's hope it's gonna be a positive experience, otherwise i might admit myself to psychiatric care asap.

Anyways,

thank your for reading, i hope it was to your liking.

Part 2 will probably drop next Friday cuz i need time to make a new drawing.

Btw. Here is a quick doodle just for shitt's and giggles.

Aight bye~

-Elio

[gffa]

I have a lot of thoughts about the Watcher move and I get why they did it. I've kind of half-suspected something like this would happen, because I don't think their current business model is growing enough to make it profitable for them to keep the staff they have, not with the kind of videos they put out and they've been clear that they want this to be their livelihood and a genuine production studio. But the big production videos like this just cannot survive on YouTube, unless you're like Mr. Beast or a very few other creators. And the reason big production companies like Mythical or Smosh can survive on YouTube is because they're putting out videos EVERY DAY pretty much, they keep the average costs down. And even Mythical has talked about how their views have plateaued, Rhett and Link have talked repeatedly about how they're constantly trying new things and can't really pursue them if they're not a massive hit because they're beholden to only having resources for things that won't lose them money. It took them twenty years to get to a place where they could finally say, "Fuck it, we're doing what we want, because we're secure enough to take the hit, if it comes to that." Watcher in contrast is making more high level production shows, a lot of research into a single episode (rather than something that can be used for multiple episodes), expensive location shoots, etc. And so I think they looked to Dropout as a business model that might work for them. But the thing is that I'm not sure they have a strong enough roster to pull it off. Puppet History and Ghost Files are both hits, but I'm not sure any shows that aren't centered on Ryan and Shane have ever really taken off? Maybe Worth It or Dish Granted? Meanwhile, Dropout has the whole D20 lineup and Game Changer is a huge hit (also possibly Make Some Noise?)(I'm judging by how many shows I see cross my dash, which may not be the best metric, tbf) but they have a huge cast to work with and their model relies heavily on how much of the D20 stuff they put out in volume. So, I get why Watcher did this, in some ways, I kind of agree that it might have been the only move for them if they wanted to do this long-term. And I think it's important to them that, the whole reason they left Buzzfeed was because they wanted to do their own stuff, their own passion projects, rather than just what Buzzfeed deemed a viral hit. And their YouTube shows do mean being beholden to advertisers and only focusing on what will be as big a hit as possible, which is exactly what they wanted to get away from. I'm just not sure it'll work because they can't put out enough content that enough people would want to pay for. I kinda wish they'd gone the Mythical route instead, where they put up the behind the scenes stuff and special series on their own site and had tiers of membership for people who wanted to access them, while keeping the main shows on YouTube. (But I guess that's basically what they were doing with the Patreon exclusive videos and it must not have been a big enough draw to keep going the way they did.) I think they probably felt like this was the only route forward for them long-term, that it was either this or they would have to dissolve the company, but I'm just not sure I believe that it can work. I love the shows, but I'm not getting a subscription service for a roster of shows where I watch like three of the shows.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Chaggie AU where Vaggie is a member of a holy order devoted to slaying monsters. As part of her becoming a holy knight, she must commune with an Angel to be granted their divine power... only something goes wrong with the ritual, and the being that appears before her is none other than the Princess of Hell.

Lute: “Gay?! She’s supposed to be HOLY!”

Adam: “Yeah, hot.”

Lute: “…let. Me. See. That. SuMMOnINg sCRiPTuRE.”

Adam: “Sure thing dude. Here.”

Lute: “This isn’t a holy rite, this is… WRITINGS OF SAPPHO!”

Adam: "Heh, heathen and homoerotic. WLWhoops?"

-

Charlie: “You should really be more careful next time!"

Vaggie: "Uh."

Charlie: "Lot’s of other demons would be thrilled to get yanked into the mortal world without a circle of binding to hold them- especially by someone as cute as you-

Vaggie: "Excuse me?"

Charlie: "And when I say thrilled, I mean in the blood and guts and screaming kinda way, NOT just in the 'can feel hellfire in my cheeks' kinda way. Safe summoning is important!!”

Vaggie: “Why’re you drawing the circle in yourself, then. With your… claws.”

Charlie: “Because you didn’t?” (dusts fire off her hands) “Anyway you should be good now, ask me anything!”

Vaggie: “You’re seriously not taking advantage of being summoned but not bound?"

Charlie: "I'm taking advantage of the view!"

Charlie: (beat)

Charlie: "Of the, mortal world, I am enjoying the pretty scenery."

Vaggie: "It's dark."

Charlie: "I'm enjoying the beautiful knight. Night. Night without a 'K'. Not knight like YOU'RE a knight, not that you aren't beautiful-"

Vaggie: "I'm. What."

Charlie: "The one who should be talking now! Not me. I think I've done enough talking for now. I think I'm good on having said stuff recently. I think I should be quiet for a bit."

Vaggie: (gay) (not immune to adorable ladies) "WHY are you here. You're not, what I expected."

Charlie: “I'm not the usual demon- As hell princess I get first dibs on all summons! After dad anyway.”

Vaggie: (of COURSE she's a princess) “Why answer this one.”

Charlie: “You’re missing an eye? It looks painful?"

Vaggie: "...so?

Charlie: "?? I thought maybe you wanted help with that.”

Vaggie: "It's a penance. You can't help with it."

Charlie: "oh."

Vaggie: “...That’s it? You're not here for anything else?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “You um. You look very cool in that armor.” (cringes) “Awesome.” (cringes more)

Vaggie: “Are you a siren or a succubus or something.”

Charlie: “What!? No! No I’m just, I just think girls are hot! Cool! You look great!! …girls all look great, and you’re a girl, and you…”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “Do you need any demons slayed?”

Charlie: “Ahaa, no.”

Vaggie: “Holy quests completed?”

Charlie: “No?”

Vaggie: “Are you gonna eat me.”

Charlie: “N-not on the first date- I- OH YOU MEAN ACTUALLY-? No no no! I don’t, I’m, I don’t eat souls. Or people.”

Vaggie: “So what’s the catch here. The price.”

Charlie: “Nothing. I just wanted to help.”

Charlie: “Okay and maaaaybe have a nice conversation for once. Kinda short on them in hell.”

Vaggie: “… is there ANYTHING I can help you with?”

Charlie: “Well I just broke up with-”

Vaggie: “I’ll kill them.”

Charlie: “-and I could really use a date for the ball, I mean! No killing needed!! Dad isn’t going again, mom’s um, busy. And it’ll be a lot less awkward if I already have a dance partner, you know?”

Vaggie: “You want me to find you a dance partner.”

Charlie: “Oh no I, I was hoping- do YOU dance?”

Vaggie: "Me."

Charlie: "If you want to?"

Vaggie: “You’re asking me to go to hell.”

Charlie: “Shit. Right, dumb idea. It’s my home but, yeah. It’s not like anyone enjoys being here.”

Vaggie: (fuck she's cute) (fuck she's SAD)

Vaggie: “No one does? What about you?”

Charlie: “I… just wish the people would be nicer. A place is the people who live there, right?”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “I’ll come.”

Charlie: “You wha?”

Vaggie: “I’ll come to the dance.”

Charlie: "But- hell! Why-"

Vaggie: "Hell’s a better place than I thought."

Charlie: "You've never even BEEN here!"

Vaggie: "I've met you."

Charlie: ".... I'm not... the usual demon."

Vaggie: "I'll take my chances. I'll need to borrow a dress though. All I have up here is, armor."

Charlie: "I can, I can change that. A dress. N- no problem."

Vaggie: "It's a deal then." (holds out hand) "A dance for a dress?"

Charlie: (takes her hand and shakes it eagerly while bowing) "ITS A DATE!"

Vaggie: (chuckles) "Yeah, I guess that's a better word for it."

Charlie: "And I PROMISE when we dance I WON'T trample your toes with my hooves!"

Vaggie: "... should I just keep the sabatons on?"

Charlie: "I promise to find you a dress that goes good with your armored shoes so your toes don't get trampled on."

Vaggie: "We're gonna be quite the pair, aren't we."

Charlie: "Heheh~"

-

Lute: "WHAT HAPPENED WHY WAS THERE FIRE AND BRIMSTONE INSTEAD OF HOLY LIGHT WHY WERE YOU COMMUNING WITH A FIEND SO LONG IS IT DEAD DID YOU KILL IT???"

Vaggie: "Does taking her heart count?"

Adam: "Whoooo VaGEEE! Totally FUCKED that demon huh!!"

Vaggie: "Mm, not totally sir."

Vaggie: (smiling) (softly to herself) "Not on the first date."

[fatuismooches]

Do you think Alpha ever gets envious of Omega or Prime?

Alpha is basically the tsundere-trope, a bit more deeper than that but it is kinda where he lands with his whole feigned irritability but is harbouring fondness thing. Which is cute! We love him for it - but do you think Alpha looks at the more confident versions of himself and feels a rising sense of resentment?

For him, he tries (and fails) to brush off his lover's affections, insisting that they distract him and he doesn't need those frivolous attachments. He doesn't say them harshly, it's more of a grumble in denial as he doesn't make any true efforts to push his lover off him. It's a formality at this point to make him feel more like 'himself.'

Until he sees Omega or Prime with their collective lover. Do you think he would silently seethe since his versions are open with their affections? Omega and Prime reciprocate it without a trace of shame, at times turning the tables to have their lover become a stammering mess.

Maybe he quietly desires to have that same brazen attitude, maybe he too wishes that he could be just as charismatic.

But everytime he tries, his great intellect draws a blank, and he is forced to grumble another reluctant protest to the affection he is bombarded with.

[Pretty sure Alpha is the Akademiya segment if I remember right... ( ´△｀)? ]

Yes! Even though he doesn't really show it, I do believe Alpha would harbor the most "jealousy" in general out of all the segments - constantly watching his peers be accepted while he's shunned, both physically and idea/research-wise, being denied and expelled from his own homeland, etc. However, he refuses to put a name to this feeling and just grows resentment toward the whole thing. (The older segments, who still long for acceptance, don't react exactly the same due to their much older age and maturity.)

Being but another segment stuck in time, unable to make peace with himself, Alpha can't help himself with how he acts toward you, it's quite literally how he was programmed. It's practically a routine at this point - you throwing so many kisses and hugs and affection at him out of nowhere as he lectures you and fruitlessly attempts to nudge you away. Every excuse in the book coming out - he's busy, you're busy, go bother someone else, let him think in peace for once. Alpha says them all as you continue to cling to him, his eyes getting softer as he continues to grumble, more halfheartedly at this point.

It's not really a secret how affectionate and possessive the oldest two are with you - the best segment and the original - neither of them particularly shies away from it even if others are watching. It's just laughable how he is them and yet he is not at the same time. He shares so many traits with them and yet the differences are as clear as day - the truth of the matter is that he will never be them. A part of the jealousy also stems from the feeling original Zandik had about you leaving him, because well, he was less than the ideal partner for obvious reasons. Alpha is also the first one in Dottore's life to ever feel love... and subsequently the most vulnerable... so ya. He does feel the irritation.

And yet, no matter how much he tells himself he'll say what he truly wants, the opposite comes out of his mouth, for that's the fate he's been dealt.

However, Reader probably knows him well enough to figure out his inner feelings, and they would go to great lengths to make sure he knows they love him just as much. In truth, they do love his personality - although it can be a headache sometimes when they're genuinely trying to be affectionate, it's a part of him they find cute, and they wouldn't change it. They already know how much he loves them, and that's enough.

[dearest-painter]

hi!! I’m the Valentino daughter anon, this is getting really long to type so it’s gonna be 🚬🎀 because I’m lazy.

what about The reader trying to get her dad to like her when she still lived with him by trying to be like him? Kinda like that one scene from bojack horseman where Bojack tries to smoke his mom’s cigarette and the scene ends with Beatrice saying “I’m punishing you for being alive” because angst has been in my head recently and I don’t know why.

anywho, thank you for not thinking my idea is annoying or weird, and also thank you for not being annoyed with my spamming because my info dumping has been nonstop<3333

PLEASE KEEP SPANMING ME VAL DAUGHTER ANON! PLEASE! I LOBE BEING SPAMMED!!!! DONT STOP >:[

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship, Valentino’s BITCH ass, no real yandere behavior but still Yandere AU, tell me if I need to add more

Summary: You had a dream again…it had Valentino…it’s been like this for weeks

You knew this was a dream…because this took place in the past. You sighed. This one reoccurred so often that you just go through it to make it stop. Getting up from the spot you where sitting in you grabbed the drawing as you walked down the hall. It always seemed so long when walking. You looked down at the drawing. It was a scribble of you and Valentino smiling, but not holding hands. You were beside him and holding a bucket that said ‘Tips for dad’ and Valentino was smiling as he held money in his hands.

He always seemed so happy when he had money…or anything or anyone else around him yet he seemed disinterested whenever you were around. You remember wishing to someone that he would finally love you for once. You wanted it so deeply. Before your mama and dad came around, you begged for Valentino’s love. A little part of you still does.

You finally reached the door. ‘Valentino’s office’ You sighed as you knocked on the door then meekly said. “Dad…it’s me…can I come in?” You waited…and waited until you heard a groan. That always meant yes so you entered, with your head down staring at the drawing. You didn’t wanna risk seeing one of Angel Dust’s coworkers in there, while they were pretty and cared for you..you didn’t wanna risk seeing them in their most vulnerable time..you know that whenever a worker enters here their vulnerable.

“Here you go dad” You softly said as you put the drawing on his desk. You could hear him snatching it. “Do you like it?” You softly asked. You heard him mumble something under his breath. If you were to look up you’d see him shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Yeah sure” he said in an annoyed tone. You knew he hated it but that little part of you felt happy that he said he liked it. “Now I got work to do. Go play with those toys” he said as he waved his hand. “Can…can I hangout with Angel Dust?” You softly asked.

He thought about it then shrugged as he pushed you out his office. “Sure, I don’t care. I’m busy so don’t bother me okay sweetie?” He said in an annoyed tone. He hates calling you that. But you were happy, you got some love from him. Smiling widely you headed towards Angel Dust, this was always your favorite part of your dream. Going to play with mama.

[maiko-san]

TADC x Robotic Jester! Reader (Part 3)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Continuation of the previous parts :D, I literally forgot one character that is Kaufmo. Even though he's not in the pilot, the poor guy deserves love! I know this is a short chapter but Kaufmo kinda deserves one tbh. Too many Jax x readers around lol.

ft. Kaufmo

Warning : slight angst

There's nothing much to do around the circus as of late, Caine had been busy with his work/project and the others are doing their own things or minding their own business.

You're in Gangle's room and watch her draw characters from anime, even though she couldn't remember much about the characters or how they used to look like. Every time she draws, she feels that she is getting the characters so right!

"Look, here (Y/o/n)!" Gangle smiles as she holds up her finished drawing of an animal with a large red hat.

"A raccoon?" you questioned tilting your head to the side. "No, silly! It's a reindeer! A doctor too!" Gangle said. "Hehehe~ I'm just messing with ya, Ribbons!" you said.

"Hey, look what I've drawn!" you said. Holding up a badly drawn of yourself with Gangle with the word 'Weeb Besties' on top with hearts all over. Gangle gasps and takes the paper from you, "I'm going to pin it on my wall!" she said, hugging the drawing. She walks over to her board and pins it on the large board filled with all kinds of arts she had done.

"(Y/o/n), let's play mario—" before Gangle could finish, both of you were teleported to the stage.

Turns out, there were new people on the stage.

Kaufmo

A clown?! Gasps! A stage buddy! Yippe :D

Kaufmo, a name that was given to the newcomer by Caine. At first, the poor guy was in a panic mess, well who wouldn't when you enter a whole different dimension in an instant.

"What—wh—where am I?! Why can't I get this thing off?????!!!" Kaufmo shrieks as he begin pulling on his face, Jax snorts "Try pulling harder, maybe you could rip—" you instantly slaps your hand on the rabbits's mouth to shut him up.

LICK— "Waa! Eew! Gross!" you cringe when Jax licks your palm as the purple rabbit gives you a smug grin.

Caine had taken Kaufmo on an instant tour around the place.

The clown didn't take it too well.

The guy was in a nervous wreck and running around the tent to find an escape from the digital realm.

"Exit! Where's the exit!" he shrieked. Jax on the other hand kinda had enough with his screaming and left, leaving you and the others.

"Alright, let's calm down and take a deep breath" Ragatha said as she walked over to Kaufmo to calm him down.

Due to Ragatha's expertise at calming people, Kaufmo finally calms down.

Everyone introduced themselves to the clown and it was your turn, "Hello, there Kaufmo! My name is (Y/o/n) the robotic jester! Hey, wanna hear a joke?" you said with a grin.

Somehow both of you became partners in the circus!

You and Kaufmo would do tricks together and tell jokes to each other, even Kaufmo's jokes weren't the best ( most of his jokes were consists of dad jokes btw ). Being a good partner, you help him improve!

Like Kinger, Kaufmo sees you as a good friend. Like you do with Gangle, you protect him from Jax's pranks and mockeries.

But even when you try to get his mind off the exit, it won't stop him or change his mind. Kaufmo were glad that you wanted to help him but....

He really wants to go home.....

"(Y/o/n)....I'm thankful that you want to help me but...I miss home and...my family. I know they are waiting for me" Kaufmo said. with a deep frown on his face. You stare into his black beady eyes as you rub your arm and look away.

"Don't you miss yours, (Y/o/n)?" your eyes widen slightly at Kaufmo's question, "I wish I could be like you, ya know....Like don't worry about anything at all? All of your feelings are so genuine unlike the others, like you belong in this place....." Kaufmo said, fiddling with his gloves.

"Well, I— uh" you were cut off by a voice.

"Now, what's with all of these frowning I see?" a voice echoes, both of you look up to see the moon looking down at the two of you.

"Oh, w-we were just talking...." you said, rubbing the back of your neck "I-I I think I want to go back to my room, see you tomorrow I guess..." you said as you speed your way back to your room. On your way, you see Jax walking by and he sees you. He folds his arms behind him and extends his leg once you got close.

He trips you as you fall on the ground, but you were too deep in your thoughts to even bother about Jax tripping you.

A question mark appears on Jax's head as he watches you enter your designated room, slamming the door shut. Jax's grin left his lips, he never sees you acting like that before and it kinda bothers him to see you like that.

"Pft....they'll get over it" he snorts as he walks away but he still couldn't shake off the feelings.

Once you're in your room, you lock the door and lean on the wooden door before sliding down and sit on the floor. You cover your face with your hands and cry.....

Now that Kaufmo said it, "I u-understand how it felt...." you mumbled to yourself. Yes, you also miss your family.

Especially your beloved uncle, you couldn't remember what he look like anymore and every time you want to remember, it was all a blur in your mind.....

He was the only family you had left.....

You'd hope that he's doing alright....

You look up at a drawn picture of yourself (avatar form) and a man with a question mark on his face, both of you are holding hands.

There is a word written, "Greatest Uncle in the world".

"I...I miss you" you sobbed, rubbing away your tears.

[factual-fantasy]

Good day Factual! Hope you're starting to feel a bit better- colds that just refuse to go away are the worst! Glad you've been having some fun playing and drawing Pokemon in the meantime though- and thanks a million for giving us all that great art of Grimace! Him and Sylvester definitely have a wholesome, brotherly bond, and it would be sweet to see some more of them someday, though as always, draw whatever you wish! In the meantime, as a little side Ask- could you tell us how you met them perhaps? Both in game and in "story"? Did you catch them like usual Pokemon, or did they join willingly?

And as for my main Ask- I thought I'd inquire about two of my favorite lesser known Mario enemies, and their places in your AU- starting with the fire spitting, three horned menaces, the Reznors!

Despite them essentially just being chibified triceratops, I've always liked their designs, their pack mentality, and the goofy noises they make! Sadly, Nintendo hasn't used them for much other than a couple gimmicky mini bosses, but I figure if the Bowser of your AU had a few, he'd put them to much better use! Just spitballing here, but you've come up with some cool ideas of how the Koopas use various other creatures- what if they used tamed Reznors as battle mounts, like how humans have used elephants! Imagine the Koopas armoring them up, loading troops on to their backs, and then charging into battle, bullet bills a-blazing! ( Just my idea- what do you think? )

And then the other enemy I wanted to mention, is the rarely remembered, deadly dino from w 1-1 of Super Mario World- the Rex!

They were powerful, speedy critters with a nasty bite- and while Nintendo rarely makes use of them nowadays, many fans still hold them and their lore implications close to their hearts- due to their uncanny resemblance to Yoshis... Because of this, many have theorized they share a common Ancestor- though others fear that perhaps a form of evil magic was involved- which, I think would be a perfect fit for your AU! Since your Kamek has showcased powerful, corruptive magics in the past- what if he created the Rexs, either by mutating captured Yoshis, or enchanting stolen Yoshi eggs before they hatched!? Either way, id imagine they would be just as large and aggressive as your yoshis- and serve the Koopas well as guard dogs, or perhaps as alternative mounts- being weaker, but more nimble and agile than a Reznor. But what's your take? Would either of these guys make the cut? Or not be included at all- ( which would be fine too, I just wanted to ask, and pitch some ideas! )

(Grimace and Sylvester art in question)

Hey there! Unfortunately I'm going downhill a bit, I think my cold is really startin to take me down. Which is just wonderful 🥲 at least I have Pokemon Scarlet to keep my mind busy!

Speaking of Pokemon, Grimace and Sylvester actually do have a story to them..

Starting with Grimace, I actually kinda got him on accident due to a 3 day long brain fart. Let me explain- <XD

So picture this. It's early in the game and I spot a Duskull. I think "Oh cool! Dusknoir is my favorite pokemon! I gotta catch one so he'll eventually evolve into a Dusknoir! :D" So I catch one and name him Dusty.

I ran around with Dusty, training him, loving him, feeding him sandwiches, the works, for 3 days or so. 3. Real life. Days.

It's only when I'm a about to go to bed and I'm thinking about him that I realized..

Dusty is a Gastly. Not a Duskull. He will eventually turn into a Gengar. Not a Dusknoir.

I still can't figure out how I looked at a Gastly and had my brain go "catch one! It'll turn into a Dusknoir! :DD"

So anyways, I didn't really want a Gengar.. but by the time I had noticed my mistake, I had already gotten attached to the big guy. So I accepted defeat, renamed him Grimace and gave up on my dreams of having a Dusknoir. I'll get a Dusknoir in legends Arceus anyways it's fine- <XD

Now Sylvester...

I knew right when I started the game that I wanted a female Sylveon. That was a big goal of mine. And I knew of a place early on in the game where there was a chance for Eevee to spawn. So I ate a sandwich that increased my normal type spawn rate and hunted for a while.

It was quite the drag since Eevees we're still a rare spawn.. but I was able to find some and catch them all. Though there was one peoblem. Every single Eevee I encountered was male! I wanted a female eevee!

It was a few hours into Eevee hunting that I went and Googled the female to male ratio on Eevees. Females have like a 12% spawn rate... Whoops. Looks like I'm not gonna find a female eevee this early on in the game....

But I still wanted a Sylveon.. 🥺

So I did some thinking. I imagined my trainer as a character. I picture them catching a male Eevee and loving him just the way he is. Saying that he doesn't have to evolve for them. Classic Eevee/trailer relationship. And I imagined the Eevee being so happy with this trainer and loving his team so much, that he evolved into a Sylveon. And he's not ashamed at all! His form is the ultimate expression of his love for his friends and his trainer!

I also pictured tweaking Sylvester's body type to make him apear more masculine. Changing the shape of his bows and ears to look sharper. Making his eyes a bit smaller and making his paws pointier.

Point is, the story I built in my head and all the drawing ideas this gave me... Plus my inability to catch a female eevee.. resulted in me adopting one of the male Eevees and evolving him into a Sylveon XD

Anyways XD as for your Mario questions...

I'm actually unfamiliar with those enemies <:0 though having a little more diversity in the Koopa kingdom would be good.. perhaps I could look into the Reznors a bit more and incorporate them somehow.. like you said, making them battle mounts or something similar..

Now the Rex, what an odd critter.. definitely haven't seen that guy before- :00 he really does look a lot like a Yoshi.. I'd have to look into those guys a bit too before I decided what to do with them.. but I'm liking your ideas! Kamek corrupting Yoshi eggs or something similar to make more mindless drones.. that's something he would do! 😅 But I'd probably takes away the Rex wings.. Yoshis can't fly! ☝️

Aaaanywho, thank you as always for the ask and interest! :}} This distraction came at a very good time 🥹💔