#in dog years the rock is now older than me i think

[same-picture-of-a-rock-every-day]

Follow for a special picture of the birthday rock

[ image id: a picture of a grey and white rock on a white background, with a birthday party cone-hat, a banner and confetti in the background, and small rainbow text in the corner reading. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY"]

[gothgoblinbabe]

Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings:  ( MDNI 18+) neighbor!reader,fem reader, Logan’s kinda rude for a lil’ bit, neighbors to frenemies to lovers? Idk, alcohol consumption (nothing 18+ happens while anyone is intoxicated), swearing, i can’t write Wade’s witty dialogue for shit pls bear w me, implied age gap, unprotected sex (wrap it up I beg of you), poking fun at the Kardashians a little, swearing and I think that’s it, but pls lmk if I missed any!

Summary: You have a little too much to drink one night in Wade's living room, resulting in an indirect confession that Logan absolutely hears through the thin drywall of his bedroom. Wade then ditches your usual weekend plans in an attempt at playing cupid - and it may just be the best favor he's ever done for you.

Word Count: 8K (get comfy bitch)

divider credit here and here

Being Wade Wilson’s best friend and neighbor included two main components:

Watching trash TV and getting drunk every other weekend - usually at the same time - and Wade wasn’t going to let his new roommate's attitude ruin it in the slightest.

“She’s gonna be here any minute and if you don’t pull the stick out of your ass and be nice, I'm going to lock you in your room like a sad, lonely dog.”

Logan only grunted in response, sipping his drink in the doorway and watching him run around the living room to make the place look livable.

He’d only moved in a couple weeks ago and Wade had been trying to introduce you both - inviting you over when he knew Logan had no plans - but every time, he was out the door before you were even opening yours across the hall. He’d try everything he could to avoid meeting new people, fearful that any type of real connection with someone would be ripped out from under him just like it had been many times before.

Wade huffed in satisfaction when he was done moving a few things around, standing in front of Logan with his hands on his hips.

“I mean it, kitty cat. She’s a sweet girl - keep the claws in.”

“Told you to stop callin’ me that.”

“Too bad, so sad, kitty.”

As Logan was considering puncturing three evenly spaced holes in both sides of Wade’s chest, they were both interrupted by a knock on the front door.

You were on the other side, of course, a twelve pack of beer under your arm. You rocked back and forth on your heels while you patiently waited for Wade to let you in. You did kind of hope you’d maybe get to meet his new roommate this time - it was a little odd that he was never there when you were.

He answered the door after a second, placing a hand over his heart dramatically when he saw the beer in your arms.

“For me? Aw, sugar, you shouldn't have,” he sighed as he took the box from your arms, ushering you inside.

“Did I have a choice?” you joked back, kicking off your shoes.

You followed him into the living room only to stop in your tracks.

Logan stood near the couch in his sweatpants, looking like he’d been dragged into the middle of the room to be put on display. He did reluctantly agree to stay for a second and finally let him introduce you so he could sulk back to his bedroom and nurse a bottle of whiskey till he fell asleep.

“Well, there he is,” Wade said in a lackluster tone, “now, he is house trained, but he does bite occasionally - “

“Fuck off.”

His deep voice surprised you a bit, unintentionally raising your eyebrows with your gaze still on him.

“ I'm Logan.”

You nodded politely and introduced yourself, shoving your hands in your pockets nervously. He was tall, definitely a good couple years older than you and incredibly handsome, all of which made your stomach erupt into butterflies.

And Logan did not like the way you were looking at him.

He’d seen it more times than he could count on the faces of every pretty young thing that tried to take him home from the bar, batting their eyelashes at him and laying hands on him like it would be persuasive in any way. It never worked, as his dismissive attitude sent a clear message. He couldn’t be bothered to take any of them up on their offers and wasn’t interested in fulfilling some fantasy they had about being with an older man. He didn’t think much about stuff like that anyway, avoiding any chance of vulnerability and attachment to someone he was sure he’d eventually lose.

And you still had that look on your face.

“Night.”

With that, Logan disappeared down the hallway to his room and shut the door.

“He’s not much of a talker,” Wade assured you, “probably for the best.”

From then on, you’d occasionally see Logan come out of his room while you were over - getting something from the kitchen, doing his laundry, coming and going - and each time you had to feign complete disinterest. Wade had quickly taken notice of how you tried to keep your head down every time Logan entered the room to hide your pink cheeks and - naturally - there was no way for him to be quiet about it.

When Logan came out of the bathroom one time with a towel around his waist and dripping wet hair as you and Wade sat at the kitchen island, your best friend was more than eager to run his mouth.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t do that to her!” he exclaimed, gesturing towards you, “you’re practically dangling meat in front of a starving dog - poor girl.”

You had your face buried in your hands with your elbows on the counter, wishing more than anything that you could sink into the chair and through the floor.

“God, shut up.”

Your voice was muffled by your hands but he still heard you.

“And put a stop to my job as cupid?”

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning towards his bedroom. He’d seen the way your eyes widened the second he’d opened the door, traveling all the way from his bare shoulders to the trail of hair that dipped under the towel. You’d turned pink almost immediately. It would have been something he’d found cute maybe a couple decades ago, before the very last bit of his naivety had faded away. Now, it was just infuriating to him. He could try to drop every hint on earth that he wasn't interested (which for him, just meant avoiding you completely) and you still looked at him like a lovesick schoolgirl.

This weekend came along like every other, texting Wade back and forth about snack options and finally getting up to shuffle across the hall with a bag of chips.

He answered the door as usual, ushering you in. You plopped yourself down on the couch and kicked your slippers off, clad in sweatpants and a tank top. He sat beside you and you propped your legs up on his lap, snatching the TV remote from the coffee table to flip through channels. You heard what you assumed was Logan’s bedroom door open down the hall, keeping your eyes glued to the TV. 

“Peanut! Care to join?” Wade exclaimed as he watched his roommate enter the open kitchen, digging around in the fridge.

You still didn’t tear your gaze from the screen.

“Hell no.”

That wasn’t much of a surprise.

“Your loss!” Wade reached for the pack of beer on the table, offering one that you gladly accepted, “but don’t bother us, keeping up with the kardashians is incredibly important.”

“Uh - huh.”

Logan disappeared again in seconds and Wade shook his head.

You focused back on the TV screen.

“So, how many minutes into the episode do you think one of them is going to start a fight?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hours and many beers later, you were on the floor with your knees to your chest between the couch and coffee table as you tried to stifle your giggling. Wade was laid on the couch, no better off than you.

“Hey - hey, I wanna ask you somethin’,” his voice became a little serious, but he still had a shit eating grin on his face, “what are you into Logan for anyway?”

You dreaded the question, groaning and closing your eyes.

“Seriously! I mean, I’ve been here the entire time - “

“Wade.”

He looked at you expectantly, awaiting a response.

You contemplated your answer for a moment, your filter diminishing more and more with every sip of beer, “God, I don’t know, he’s - he’s jus’ big.”

You were snickering behind the beer bottle you drunkenly held in front of your face in an attempt to hide.

“I don’t think he’s that impressive. You know, he’s got small feet - tiny, like a child.”

That had you both doubled over, trying to muffle your laughs with your hands and the throw pillows strewn on the floor.

“Stop, stop - ” you choked out when you finally caught your breath, wacking him on the arm.

“Okay but really, what is it? I know you, you’re not into beefcakes,” he laughed and shook his head.

You sighed, not really thinking for even a second before you started speaking again.

“He’s older and he’s hot -”

“And completely cold and dismissive towards you.”

You rolled your eyes at his interruption but still nodded, “yeah - yes, but that’s not my point.”

Wade took another sip of his beer and motioned for you to continue talking.

“He, uh - ” you tried to bite down a giggle, your face turning pink, “I don’t know, I think he’d be good in bed.”

That made him sit forward on the couch, his mouth open in surprise, “I knew it! I knew you were a horny freak!”

“Am not!” you picked a pillow up from the floor and launched it at his face, “I’m allowed to be, anyway!”

“Whatever,” he caught the pillow in his hands, “I'm on operation ‘Cupid’ and I have never quit a mission, cupcake. So, what about him makes you think that? Is it because he's a hundred and eighty - something years older than you? He’s probably been passed around the block like a wh - “

“Okay,” you cut him off, cringing at the thought, “ I think I got the picture.”

Your mind began to wander again about Logan and you narrowed your eyes in thought, staring at nothing.

“What’cha thinkin’, honey bun?”

Wade's voice cut through your concentration and you shrugged, a smile creeping onto your face.

“Oh no,” he started, stretching the vowel, “you’re having a sex fantasy right now, I can see it on your face - disgusting. Tell me more.”

“What, you want details?” You laughed, giving up on trying to hide it if Wade could already read you like an open book. You were both terribly honest with each other - almost to a fault. 

“Not the full middle-aged-white-women erotica novel version,” he answered, “I can accept cliff notes.”

You thought for a moment, going down the mental list you’d made of all the assumptions you had about the older roommate that you rarely ever saw.

“He’s gotta have a huge dick. Like, massive.”

Wade nearly spit out his beer but nodded for you to continue.

“I’d let him, like - like,” you were giggling between words as you tried to form a sentence, “ fuckin’ rearrange my guts.”

That did make Wade spit his beer, which set off a train of uncontrollable laughter that you both tried to stifle. 

Still, throw pillows and hands over your mouths were not as effective as you believed. 

Logan’s eyes fluttered open, squinting in the dark. The digital clock on his nightstand read ‘2:24 am’ in red LEDs. He closed his eyes again and tried to drift back to sleep, only to be jolted up by the sound of the two of you laughing obnoxiously from the living room.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled to himself, getting up to walk towards his door so he could tell you both to keep it quiet. As his hand touched the knob, he halted when he heard your voice.

“He’s probably good at eating pussy. He’d be like an animal - “

Logan was stuck in place, his eyes narrowed. Who the hell were you talking about? 

“Can we go back to the rearranging guts thing? ‘Cause I have to tell you, sister - he’s made of metal and he’ll really do it.”

That couldn’t be about him. He refused to believe you two were actually talking about him like that in the next room.

“I’d let him,” he could hear you snickering.

“Is this a daddy issues thing? The ‘I can fix him’ maneuver?” 

“I didn’t say I wanted to fix him, I said I wanted to fuck him.”

If this was about some guy, Logan should be relieved; thankful that you’d found a new target of infatuation. He should be relieved, but he was gripping the door knob like he was going to break it off.

Wade’s voice broke through his thoughts, “you’re lucky Logan’s not much into relationships, then.”

So you were talking about him. 

Your voice echoed in his head, your words cementing themselves into his brain. 

On the living room floor, you were chucking pieces of popcorn into Wade's direction, trying to land one in his open mouth. 

“Hey,” he started after catching a piece between his teeth and eating it, “if you do end up in Wolvies bed? Pics or it didn’t happen.”

You gasped and nearly chucked your empty bottle at his head, deciding against it when you remembered Logan was asleep in the other room. 

Logan was in the other room.

Just as you were about to panic to Wade about Logan overhearing your foul-mouthed and horny drunk rambling, you both heard the click of his door coming unlocked and the creak of the hinges. He appeared at the doorway in a beater and pajama pants, his hair sticking up in every direction. Truthfully, he looked cute.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you. It’s two in the morning.”

Adorable, even. 

“Oopsie! Sorry, Peanut. We had very important things to discuss,” Wade replied.

Without another word, Logan shut his door again and you and Wade sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“Do you think he heard me?” you whispered, grimacing.

“We’ll find out.”

With that, you both decided to call it a night and you returned to the familiar comfort of your apartment.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next morning, Wade was up far earlier than his roommate, as usual. He sat on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, turning his head when he heard Logan’s door open.

“Sleeping beauty! So kind of you to bless me with your presence. What’s the occasion?”

“Breakfast.”

“Technically it would be lunch, peanut.”

Logan was facing the pantry in the kitchen and Wade could still feel the anger radiating off him. 

Ignoring his seething silence, Wade began to speak again, “you didn’t happen to overhear any conversations last night, did you?”

Logan was facing him again, pouring cereal into a bowl and speaking without looking away from it, “you mean the one where your little friend said she wanted to fuck me? Yeah, I heard enough of it to get the jist.”

Wade had a gleeful look plastered on his face as he turned in his seat, “so you’re gonna take her up on the offer, right?”

“That wasn’t an offer, and besides,” Logan was shoveling cereal into his mouth, “ ‘m not interested.”

“See, you say that, Peanut, and yet you just have to come out here at least once while she’s over.”

Logan was glaring daggers into his skull. 

“I live here.”

The younger of the two clicked his tongue, turning his attention to the TV screen, “All I'm saying is that she’s our neighbor, she's a sweetheart, she is single and has a job and an apartment all to herself, dude. Bone city.”

“Ew.”

“Think about it.” “Don’t need to.”

As Logan scarfed down the rest of his breakfast and put the bowl in the sink, Wade was already typing furiously in his messages to create a plan. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Another week rolled by, meaning it was time to get hammered and make fun of the Kardashians again. You held your breath waiting for Wade to answer the door, anxiously picking at your fingernails. 

He opened the door and ushered you in like any other time, except he was dressed to go out instead of the usual PJ attire.

“What, are you leaving me for a hot date?” you teased, dropping the snacks you brought onto the kitchen island.

“Yes!”

You furrowed your eyebrows and frowned, awaiting his explanation.

“I’ve got a date with Vanessa, but - “

Logan emerged from his room, navigating his way to the kitchen as if neither of you were there.

“Peanut! So glad you decided to join us! Hey - “ Wade tapped the kitchen island, motioning for him to come over so he could talk to you both at the same time.

“Okay - I have a date with Vanessa tonight, so I need you,” he motioned between the two of you, “to get along.”

You were about to interrupt, insist that you can just reschedule, but it was as if he’d read your mind.

“You’re already here, cupcake, just stay and chill out. And you - “ he turned completely towards Logan, “you’re going to be nice like I asked you. Do you think you’ll survive?”

Logan was staring at him, unblinking with a scowl on his face.

“You, uh, you don’t have to sit with me,” you mumbled to him, forcing him to finally acknowledge your presence.

He’d half expected it to be your idea as much as it was Wade’s - some kind of ploy to get him alone - but you weren’t jumping at the chance, trying to be touchy-feely with him, begging him to stay. 

He almost wished you would.

He cleared his throat and looked back to Wade, “I'm not gonna babysit your friend.”

“Who said I needed a babysitter?” you chimed in.

 They both turned to you to watch you slam the top of a beer bottle on the edge of the countertop, sending the metal top flying somewhere into the living room. 

“We have a bottle opener in the drawer,” Wade sighed in defeat, ”anyway - you don’t need to babysit her, I'm just saying she doesn’t bite and It would be uncool to leave her all alone.”

“Aren’t you the one leaving?” you asked, taking a sip of your beer.

“Not the point,” he answered, grabbing his jacket from the coat stand as he walked towards the front door, “play nice, don’t eat anything in the fridge with my name on it and there’s condoms in my nightstand!”

He opened and shut the door, leaving the both of you in awkward silence. Logan’s face was actually red, a mix between rage and mild embarrassment. 

“He’s a dick,” you muttered, trying to make some kind of small talk, only to be met again with silence. You sighed, going to the couch and picking up the remote. You finally made yourself look Logan in the eyes, your cheeks burning uncontrollably when he never broke his stare.

“Listen - it’s fine, I get it, you’re like…the lone wolf,” you laughed a little to yourself, having to divert your eyes to the fabric of the couch, “I’m not gonna burst into tears if you don’t sit with me.”

He was a little taken back by your bluntness, though it was refreshing. He figured you’d be pink in the face - practically begging him to stay - but you weren’t. You pretended you couldn’t give less of a shit with your eyes now glued to the TV. You were as cool as you could act on the outside, but you nearly lost that cool when he spoke again.

“I can sit for a bit,” he shuffled over to the couch, settling himself down next to you. If you weren’t gonna be all over him like he thought you would, he could withstand a couple episodes of whatever the hell you and Wade had been watching. He didn’t dislike you, really - just terrified of the possibility of intimacy. You were pretty, and from what he’d overheard now and then, you were funny too. He liked the way the smell of your body wash and perfume flooded the apartment whenever you’d stop by and how you’d always bring some leftovers to be sure both of them had eaten - leftovers of which the roommates would always get into a spat over - usually because Logan ate it all before Wade could even see what was in the container. 

Unfortunately for Logan, he began to enjoy you being around.

You could feel your stomach tie itself in knots when he sat beside you but nodded in acknowledgment, flipping through TV channels. You settled on the Kardashians again, tossing the remote on the table.

“This is the shit you guys watch, huh?” he teased, grabbing a beer from the pack Wade left behind. 

You smiled a little to yourself, noticing how he was slowly getting more comfortable with you, “mhm, top tier - wait till you see one of them talk, it’s like watching an alien.”

You actually pulled a miniscule of a laugh out of him and your heart nearly skipped a beat at the sound.

As the show went on and you both made snarky commentary at just about everything, you felt more and more like you were just hanging out with Wade - comfortable and casual, except for the way your face burned up every time he stretched and his white beater rode up his stomach.

“So,” you began as the episode ended, “thoughts? Opinions?”

He was looking between you and the screen, thinking hard, “I don’t get it.”

You shrugged, “me neither, to be honest, but god is it funny to watch rich people lose their shit sometimes.”

He chuckled again at your response, placing his empty bottle on the table next to yours.

It was silent for a moment, the air tense with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

“What do you usually watch on TV?” you asked, intending to flip the channel to whatever he may be interested in - if he had to sit through Keeping Up with The Kardashians, it was only fair.

“Nothin’, really,” he answered, his eyes moving from the screen to rest on you, like a heavy weight on your chest.

“Do you even watch TV?” you asked, the both of you having abandoned the idea of trying to find something else to watch and just letting it play in the background.

“Nah,” he shrugged, his arms crossed against his chest, “ I don’t do much of anything.’

You could tell his answer was earnest and you frowned a bit, swinging your legs up on the couch and turning to face him completely, “nothing? There has to be something.”

He was unsure about how close you were to him now, your knees to your chest as you looked at him expectantly. He thought he’d be met with that look - the one you kept giving him in passing that he hated so much - but your face was neutral, waiting patiently for him to respond. Truthfully, he didn’t hate the look itself - or you, for that matter - but hated how it made him feel.

As if there were some sliver of hope for a future worth living through.

He cleared his throat, turning his body towards you on the couch, “I work out, sometimes - “

‘’Yeah, clearly’’, you wanted to say.

“Other than that,” he continued, “I don’t know, the bar - sometimes I'll let Wade drag me out somewhere but I usually leave after half an hour.”

“Huh, so you really are by yourself a lot,” you realized aloud.

 Logan never thought it sad until he heard it from your mouth.

“I like it that way, most of the time,” he shrugged.

“I can tell - took you two weeks to finally say hello. I think this is the most I've ever heard your voice, actually.” 

He realized you were right and did feel a little bad, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I just don’t like meeting new people.”

“Me neither.”

It was silent then - save for the TV - either one of you waiting for the other to explain just why that is. You figured it would be easier if you went first.

“I never really had a lot of friends growing up. I had a hard time in school and a lot of the other kids didn’t like me. It was just tough to make friends, especially because - “

You stopped, thinking over what details to include and what to leave out.

“Because?” Logan prompted and you sighed, biting back a giggle.

“Because I was goth. I don’t mean I just dressed in black - I mean I wore white face paint and huge boots and ate lunch in the art room.”

That actually pulled a real fucking laugh out of him and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

“I’m not laughing ‘cause you were goth, that's not weird” he clarified, “I'm laughing because I just can’t picture it.”

You didn’t embrace the style as much as you used to, trading Siouxsie Sioux makeup for reading glasses and teased hair for your natural texture.

“I’ll bring over my highschool yearbook sometime,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

Realizing it was now his turn to speak, he readjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat, visibly becoming a little uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, you know,” you reminded him gently, giving a soft smile. 

It only made it harder for Logan that you were so damn nice.

He tentatively explained the timelines, the different versions everyone has of themselves, how he’d gotten there. You hung on his every word, unintentionally giving him a sympathetic look when he had finished explaining. 

“So…you were just alone after all that?” your voice was soft, worry clear in your tone.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “yeah, yeah.. ‘till I met Wade, obviously.”

You gave him a small smile, “you’ll never be alone again, you know.”

For some reason, the unfamiliar comfort made his stomach turn and he simply shook his head, “Yeah, I'm never gonna be able to get rid of him.”

That made you giggle, nodding in agreement.

“You can try, but he will always find you - like a determined cockroach.”

That got the both of you and you’d never seen Logan smile that way - though, to be fair, you never saw much of his face anyway.

The version of you that sat on the couch across from him was far from who he thought you were. He felt guilty now for assuming things just from looking at you, but it was a habit he had yet to shake. It was clear you were beautiful - that was never a question - but talking with you made him realize just how much he may have missed out by keeping himself so closed off. You laughed at almost every joke he had made, comforted him when he was nothing but rude and always checked up on him and Wade. You smelled so nice, your hair looked so soft and he almost found himself wanting to reach over and run his fingers through it. In his eyes, you seemed to be everything he was not; all of the best qualities he believed he didn't possess.

“Oh, hey - do you want some popcorn? I brought the microwave kind, I keep telling Wade to get it himself and he never does,” you snapped him out of his trance and stood from the couch, already walking to the kitchen.

“Uh, sure,” he found himself getting up to follow you, not wanting to pause a moment of conversation.

You tossed the bag in the microwave and hit the button, leaning yourself against the counter. Logan leaned himself besides you, significantly taller. You’d held your composure so far, but having him so close and realizing just how much bigger he was made your heart beat like a rabbit’s. 

“So, you never asked about the mutant thing,” He spoke over the popping, looking down at you and waiting for the twenty questions.

You only shrugged, “I figured If you wanted to tell me, you’d tell me. I wasn’t gonna interrogate you about it. Plus, Wade told me.”

“Of course he did,” Logan scoffed, “I’m afraid to know what exactly it was that he told you.”

“You’ve got adamantium instead of bones,” you replied matter of factly, “and you’ve got claws. I mean, I’ve never seen them, but that's what he told me.”

He thought for a minute, stepping in front of you a little. He was about arm-length away, putting enough distance between you both that he was sure he wouldn’t accidentally knick you.

In a second, the adamantium claws protruded from between his knuckles, glistening in the kitchen light. You flinched for only a second, leaning in to inspect them. 

“Woah,” you muttered, bringing a finger up to the very end of one of them and letting it poke you, “cool.”

He was a bit confused by your calm demeanor, but relieved by it anyway. It was never a good time when someone had a bad reaction to the claws. The microwave beeped and he retracted them, stepping out of your way. You opened it and held the scolding bag with two fingers, realizing you needed a bowl to put it in.

“Logan, can you grab a-”

You felt one hand on your hip and could see his other reach above you, opening a cabinet you couldn't and handing you a bowl. Your back was almost flush to his chest, making you feel warm all over. He reluctantly pulled away from you and you cleared your throat, shaking the popcorn into the bowl.

He watched you from where you stood, taking in the curve of your waist and hips and realizing he was in much more trouble than he’d originally thought. He’d heard your drunken giggling about him - heard you vulgarly talk about how good you think he’d be at giving head - but he was still thinking it over with his bottom lip between his teeth. He finally broke the silence that filled the room.

“You know, the claws aren’t the only thing abnormal about me.”

“Mm, no?” you laughed a little with your back still turned to him. You could feel that your face was hot.

“Heightened senses,” he said simply, “hearing and smell, mostly.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like right now, I can hear your heartbeat.”

Your eyes went wide and you practically froze in place.

“It’s fast.”

His voice was closer.

“Really fast,” his breath was in your ear, his hands coming to rest on your waist, “got even faster when I pointed it out.”

You swallowed hard, knowing very well there was no way to lie to him.

“Jus’ nervous sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything,” you exhaled, attempting to still your shaking hands. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, his deep voice reverberating through your chest because of his proximity, “what about the other night, though?”

You narrowed your eyes and turned to finally face him, nearly chest to chest.

“What are you talking about?” 

You knew exactly what he was talking about - you just hoped it wasn’t what you thought.

His hands were on the counter behind you, boxing you in.

“C’mon,” he looked at you expectantly with a shit eating smirk on his face, “what made you think I’d be good at eating pussy, anyway?”

You were red with embarrassment, pulling your hands up to cover your face, but Logan caught your wrists gently and clicked his tongue.

“Pretty girl, it’s alright - “

His gruff voice calling you such a sweet nickname nearly made your knees buckle.

“I can smell how wet you get, you know that?”

One of his hands moved to hold you by your throat, barely using any pressure.

“F-Fuck off,” you managed to mutter, stuttering when he pushed one of his thighs inbetween yours. This was nowhere near what you pictured happening when Wade dumped you in his living room with a guy who would barely even look at you.

He chuckled, his other hand pushing on the small of your back to pull you closer into him.

“Yeah? I don’t think you really want me to, sweetheart. Besides, you didn’t answer my question.”

You could barely think, nevermind answer whatever it was he had asked. You were almost nose to nose, Logan craning his neck down a bit to level his face with yours.

“I, um,” your breathing was shaky, “fuck, I don’t know - I jus’ think about it a lot.”

“Me too,” he admitted before crashing his lips to yours, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of your head. It was truthful - he’d probably thought of you every day since the night he heard you talk about him like that. 

You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth when he kissed you, letting him slip his tongue past your lips. His hands roamed down your back and to your ass, using his grip to rock your hips over his thigh.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he moved down your jaw and neck, kissing and biting at the soft skin, “drove me crazy, hearing you say those things.”

“How much - how much did you hear?” you tried to ask, overwhelmed by his teeth grazing your neck. Your hands rested against his chest - as if you were going to push him away - but you never did.

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin, “heard enough.”

“And what exactly was that?”

If he was going to tease, you might as well bite back.

He pulled away momentarily to look in your eyes, knowing damn well he already had you where he wanted you.

“You don’t want to fix me, you want to fuck me, right?”

Your own words sounded so much hotter coming out of his mouth.

“Mhm,” was all you could manage to get out, too focused on the feeling of him pushing and pulling your hips over his thigh.

“Huh? Use your words, sweetheart.”

There was something about the affectionate nicknames he was using in contrast to the filthy way he was trying to push you down even harder on his thigh that made you lightheaded.

“Yeah - yes, I want to,” you practically whined.

That was all the confirmation he needed to hoist you up onto the counter with his hands on your ass. He was kissing you hungrily, his fingers hooking around the straps of your tank top to let them fall down your shoulders. You didn’t waste any time in breaking the kiss momentarily to strip yourself of the garment, tossing it to the kitchen floor.

“Fuck, jesus christ,” He groaned at the sight of your bare chest and immediately brought his large hands up to massage your breasts. A chill went down your spine when he leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue. Your hands were threaded through his hair, tugging every so slightly when he would pull his mouth off you with a popping sound. The majority of your chest was glistening with his spit when he finally brought his mouth to yours again, leaving a clear coating over the developing hickies that he left. You tugged at the hem of Logan's white beater to signal that you wanted it off. He did as you pleased, leaving plenty of skin for you to run your hands over. 

“Been thinking of you, all spread out of me,” he murmured in between kisses. He used his grip on your ass to grind you against him, his hard cock pressing against you. The pressure from it was enough for your pussy to start aching.

“I wanna know what you taste like,” he continued, holding your chin to tilt your head up, “can I find out?”

You nodded frantically and nearly choked on your own spit. You lifted your hips to let him strip you of your pants and underwear, leaving you completely bare on the counter in front of him.

You felt vulnerable, pressing your knees together only to have Logan use his hands to spread them apart.

“Uh-uh,” he clicked his tongue, “let me see your pretty pussy.”

He got on his knees on the kitchen floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and settling his face between them. He nipped at the hot skin of your inner thighs and you inadvertently tugged his hair every time he did so. He finally laid his tongue flat against you and you whined, the sound echoing through the kitchen. He was sloppy, practically drooling into your cunt and using it to lubricate his fingers so he could slip them into you. Your theory from before was proven right; he was kind of animalistic when he ate you out.

He was curling his fingers as he thrusted them in and out, sucking on your clit at the same time. You gasped when he spoke with his mouth still buried in your cunt.

“Tastes so fucking good.”

Your ankles were locked to keep his head between your thighs, leaning yourself back against the wall.

“Jesus christ, Logan - “ you whined, cut off when he growled into you.

“Mhm, ‘feels good, baby?”

You only nodded, unable to communicate with how deep he was curling his fingers into you. He continued to mumble praises against your cunt, amused by how much it clearly spurred you on.

“This is all mine, huh? Know you wanted it, could smell how bad you needed me every time you were over.”

You could feel the pressure in your lower stomach start to build.

“You’re so wet for me, such a good girl - makin’ such a fucking mess.”

It wasn’t long before you were pulling him back by his hair.

He reluctantly detached himself, looking up at you with concern. His mouth and chin were wet, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

“ ‘m fine, just - I was close -”

He groaned in a way that almost sounded annoyed, diving his tongue back into you, “C’mon, do it, then - come for me, pretty girl.”

His praise was enough to trigger your orgasm and you couldn’t help rocking your hips against his face as you rode it out. You were cursing, tears starting to form in your eyes when he didn’t let up. 

“L-Logan, fuck,” you cried. You could’ve pulled him off, told him it was too much, but he was so determined and skilled in the way he flicked his tongue that the discomfort of overstimulation dissipated into pleasure within seconds.

“One more for me, baby, one more. Think you can?”

You were moaning so loud at that point that you tried to bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sound but Logan caught your wrist and brought it back to his hair, encouraging you to keep tugging and pulling.

Your second orgasms approached hard and fast, tears rolling down your cheek. Your legs shook uncontrollably as he finally sat back on his heels. 

When you caught your breath, he pulled himself up to slide his arms around your lower back and plant a kiss on your forehead, wiping your wet cheeks.

“Can I take you to the bed?”

You nodded and smiled wide, leaning up to kiss him.

He effortlessly carried you through the hallway and into his bedroom, your bare chest pressed against his. The second your back hit his mattress, his cellphone started to ring from his bedside table.

You watched Logan furrow his eyebrows and reach for the phone. He read the caller ID and bore an amused smile, switching it to silent.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, wrapping your arms around him when he came to hover above you.

“It’s Wade,” he chuckled to himself, “probably calling to see if everythings alright.”

That made you giggle, “yeah, we can tell him we’re doing just fine.”

“I’ll call him later.”

His lips were on yours again, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you as he pinned you to the bed with his hips. You slid your hands from his neck, down his back and around the front of his waist to rest on his belt buckle. Your fingers made quick work of the metal fastener and you tugged the leather from his jeans. He stood up off the bed for a moment to strip himself of the rest of his clothing. When his cock sprung up from his boxers and hit his stomach, you almost had to choke back a gasp. Again, you were proven right - he was huge. He crawled back between your legs and positioned himself on top of you. 

“You’re okay with this?”

If anyone told you maybe two hours earlier that you’d end up under Wade’s grumpy roommate, your chest heaving from the anticipation of finally having him slot into you, you would’ve called them crazy. Now, however, it was a reality - one you would’ve gladly spent the rest of your life in.

You realized he was holding back, gripping the sheets next to your head and waiting for a definite answer.

You nodded and scratched at the back of his neck affectionately. He guided himself into you and you groaned at the feeling of his tip alone.

“ ‘s okay?”

Logan was practically slurring his words with how hard he had to hold himself back. Your warm chest to his, your thighs locked around his waist, the way you smelled; it was all overwhelming in the best way possible.

“So good,” you whined, trying to push your hips up to encourage him to go even deeper, “want all of it, please, please.”

He was chewing on his lip when he finally let himself fill you completely in one thrust. You dug your fingernails into his back, leaving scratches that healed themselves within seconds. He let out a guttural moan with his face buried in your neck, concentrating on trying to build a steady rhythm without finishing things too fast. He propped himself up on his elbows on either side of you as he tentatively rocked in and out.

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, a hand coming up to wipe the sweat dampened hair from your flushed face. It was so sweet, so intimate; nothing you’d ever really expected with or from him.

“You're handsome,” you managed to reply, amused by how taken back he seemed by the compliment, “perfect.”

He couldn’t remember the last time someone called him that - handsome, definitely never perfect - while actually looking at him like they meant it. Your eyes were trained on the features of his face, attempting to memorize every line and wrinkle; every bit of him that made him Logan. Your eyes felt to him like they could burn right through the wall he’d managed to construct.

Still, he instinctively scoffed as he hovered over you. He was never good at accepting compliments.

“I’m not the lying type, you know,” you assured him, whispering in his ear as he continued at a steady pace, “besides, do you think I'd be under you right now if that wasn’t true?”

“Mm - shut up”, he fought a smile and increased his pace in the hopes that it would render you speechless.

It did, of course.

You were a moaning mess atop his sheets with your back arched to accommodate Logan’s arm sneaking around you. His pace was enough to rock his headboard into the wall and he was thankful it was your apartment on the other side instead of a stranger’s. You were chest to chest as he whispered filthy things into your ear.

“Takin’ it well like I knew you would, baby doll - knew you’d like it when I fucked you like this.”

You were still at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the pressure in your lower stomach.

“You think you’ve got another one in you? C’mon, sweet girl, let me see it.”

His coaxing had your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head as he pounded into you. Besides the grunts and moans between you two, the only sound echoing in the room was the slap of skin against skin and the squelching of your pussy as he dragged himself out and back in again.

You were almost drooling from how deep he was able to fuck you. The familiar fire in your stomach had you feeling warm all over, building and building itself up. As if he could read your mind, Logan’s hand reached down between the both of you and he started to trace tight circles around your swollen clit.

“F-Fuck, my god, Logan - “

He hummed affirmatively, almost as if to acknowledge that was indeed his name that you were chanting.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you almost saw stars when your third orgasm hit hard and fast. You were probably loud enough for the entire building to hear as he worked you through it.

“Good girl, good girl - c’mere,” he praised, flipping you over so that you were on your hands and knees. You laid your chest as flat as you could against the mattress and arched your back. He didn’t hesitate in fitting himself snuggly inside of you again, his hands kneading at and smacking your ass as he used his grip to push and pull you. It wasn’t long before his thrusts started to become sloppy. He leaned down and hooked an arm around you, lifting you up a little so that his chest was pressed to your back. He moved his hand to your throat to tilt back your head. The way you looked back at him, your beautiful eyes boring into his soul - that was all he needed to finally let go. You felt him flood you with his come, a mixture of yours and his soaking the sheets underneath you. He gently pulled out and almost immediately pulled you against him to cuddle, his eyes already fluttering close. You didn’t take him for the cuddly type but it was just another wholesome thing you’d learned about him.

“You should call Wade back,” you mumbled, already drifting to sleep with your head on Logan’s chest.

“ ‘m busy, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

You chuckled to yourself, letting exhaustion overtake you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Wade practically sprinted up the steps to his apartment the next morning, keys already in hand. If Logan hadn’t answered - even if it was just to tell him to fuck off - something really bad must’ve happened. You hadn't answered any of his fifteen texts, either.

He unlocked his door and prepared himself to be met with a gorey scene, only to be surprised that there was no sign of a scuffle. There was untouched popcorn in the kitchen, clearly abandoned at some point right after making it. Did Logan upset you enough last night to make you leave early? 

Of course, he’d completely missed your clothing that had been tossed just out of sight from where he was standing.

Wade sighed in frustration, striding through the hallway and stopping outside Logan’s bedroom. He banged his fist on the door and rested his hands on his hips as he spoke through the wood.

“Hey! Peanut! Did you make our guest leave early last night? How’d it go? You didn’t answer your phone and neither did she.”

On the other side of the door, your heads both popped up at the sound of wade’s banging. You stifled a laugh, looking to Logan for him to say something.

“Uh, yeah…she had somethin’ to take care of.”

Now you had to bury your face in his comforter, uncontrollably snickering. 

Without warning, Wade groaned and swung the door open - one neither of you thought to lock because no one had been home.

“You better get your ass across the hall and apologize for whatever it is that -“

He was met with the sight of the both of you in Logan’s bed, covered by the bedding. It was obvious you were both undressed, Logan’s boxers somewhere near Wade’s feet.

He gasped, looking between the two of you in confusion before a giddy smile appeared on his face.

“Oh, I see, I see. Right, mhm - “

Logan was already trying to shoo him out but Wade wasn’t going to let him before he got the last word in.

“You're welcome, by the way!”

He shut the door and you laughed.

Logan laid back again, resting his arm around your shoulders so he could pull you back into his chest again.

In the comfortable silence, doubt settled itself in the form of a pit in your stomach. What if this was a one time thing? 

Almost instantly, you felt his hand comb through your hair.

“Hey, uh,” he started, looking down into your eyes, “listen, I know I was supposed to ask this before I got you in here, but - um..”

You could feel your stomach turn, borderline terrified of what he was going to say next.

“Would you want to go out for coffee sometime?”

A wide grin spread across your face and you nodded eagerly, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’d love that.”

A/N: this ones long as hell but so is just about everything else I write! if you've made it to the end I loooove u and pls interact if you enjoyed; hearing feedback is what motivates me to keep writing! as always, my inbox is open as well <3

[madebycloud]

Make it Special

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi's birthdays are usually quiet, but this year? the whole family is doing their best to make it special. (requested by twinklestarslight) warnings/themes: fluff, birthdays, found family, modern au words: 3.6k notes: THIS IS SO LATE IM SO SORRY BUT BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS WOMAN!!

Vi's birthday was, like most of her other birthdays, uneventful. Vi tended to keep to herself. The day usually passed with more than a quiet “happy birthday” on everyone's lips. However, this year will be different. This year, Vi will find out just how loved she was and just how much she meant to the people she cared about.

“There's streamers in the cabinet, if you could help me hang those up,” Vander says, giving you a nod as you go to grab a chair to reach the ceiling. From there, you make yourself busy decorating—streamers along the walls, lanterns to dim the lights a bit.

“You think she'll like it?” Silco asks, leaning on the counter. He has a cigarette in his hand, but he's doing his best to keep the smoke away from everyone else. “Think she'll be mad?”

“I don't think she'll be mad,” you say, “she'll probably be shocked or confused, but not mad.”

Benzo is setting up the tables around the bar, taking chairs from the barstools and setting them around. He's been helping with decorations since Vander asked him, and he's been trying his hardest to keep the place neat. He even got a box of party hats, hoping to find a way to talk everyone into wearing one.

Claggor and Mylo are messing around with the music, trying to find a station that plays punk rock or heavy metal, which they know Vi likes. The first song that plays when they finally get the right station is punk rock, and the two look at each other, a smirk spreading on their faces.

Ekko is bringing down plates of food from the kitchen. There's cake, which Powder bakes earlier, sandwiches, cupcakes, and various snacks. Anything that can possibly satisfy any of Vi's cravings.

Sevika is at her usual spot by the bar. She's not doing much decorating wise, but she's there, and she's helping with the more heavy things like the tables and chairs.

Benzo nudges you when he's all set up, motioning over to the box of party hats. He's already put his own on. It's black and pink, with hearts on the sides. “You think I could get Vi to wear one?” he asks with a chuckle. “Or y'think she'd try to knock it offa my head?”

“I'll try to convince,” you say, putting down the streamers you just hung. “Maybe if we all wear one, it'll seem more welcoming.”

“Maybe she'll say yes,” Ekko says, passing by and stealing a chip off the plate on the table. “Not a guaranteed one, probably a ten percent chance.”

“But,” Claggor starts, walking to help Ekko with the food. “It is a small chance, so you might be able to get her with it,” he says. “She's a sucker for you.”

—

You still need to get Vi's birthday gift, which, admittedly, should've been done a lot earlier, but decorating the bar had come together so fast, you barely had enough time to think, let alone pick out something for Vi.

Now, you stand outside the animal shelter, shifting nervously as you look up at the sign. Vi has been thinking about getting a dog for a while now, and you know this shelter is one of her favorite places to visit, even though she has never gotten a dog of her own. Maybe it's time to change that.

You push the door open. The shelter is mostly empty at this hour, and you make your way towards the front.

The lady at the desk greets you with a smile. She's an older woman, and she's wearing a jacket with various cat hairs on it. “How can I help you?” 

“I'm looking to adopt a dog, actually.”

“Oh, how nice,” the lady smiles, setting the paperwork she was working on aside and giving you her attention. “We have a lot of dogs available for adoption. Any breed you're looking for in particular?”

“Do you have any huskies for adoption right now?” You look around the shelter, trying to look for any cages that might have a dog inside.

The lady nods. “We do have a few, actually. Would you like to see them?” she asks, standing from her chair.

“I would, yes.”

She leads you down a hall that's lined with cages. Different breeds of dogs of different sizes and coat colors are barking and yelping when you walk by, trying to get your attention. if only you could adopt all of them. Impossible. But still, if you could, you would.

The lady leads you down another hallway after the first, and you stop in front of a cage. Two huskies. They're curled up together and asleep, but they lift their heads when they notice the two of you stop in front of them.

One of the huskies perks up, getting to its feet and moving closer, wagging its tail as it looks up at you with wide eyes. The other follows suit, looking up at you through squinted eyes, as if it has been woken up from a deep sleep.

“They're siblings,” the lady notes, crouching down to pet the closer of the two, smiling as it nudges her hand, tongue lolling out of its mouth. “They're still only pups, about one month old,” she continues. “A young couple dropped them off a week ago. They couldn't keep them. They didn't have the time for them anymore.”

It sucks, people giving up on animals like this. Huskies need a lot of care, a lot of attention, and a lot of time spent training. They're not dogs made to be stuck inside or alone for the whole day. You know most of the people who gave up huskies—or any dog for that matter—did it because they didn't know what they were doing. They couldn't take care of the dog, and they had to give them up. It's hard, for you and for the animal.

The lady continues to pet the puppy in front of you. “Are you thinking about adopting one of them?” she asks, looking up at you.

“They're siblings,” you repeat, looking down at the two dogs. They're still focused on you, wide eyes looking at you. And, god, that look. You can't leave just one, they'll miss each other, they're siblings. “I'll take both of them.”

“Oh.” It takes the lady a second to process that, but then she smiles, standing up to her full height again. “That's… nice of you to take siblings. Not many people want to take siblings,” she says, walking over to the cage door. “I'll get you the paperwork, it's in the back. Make yourself comfortable, they don't bite.”

She leaves you to the cage with the dogs, who seem to have gotten even more excited, their paws scraping against the cage as they stand on their hind legs, putting their front paws on the edge. They're both panting, their tongues lolling in the same way as their tails wag back and forth, hitting the side of the cage. The lady comes back quickly and pulls out a clipboard, setting it on a table outside the cage door.

The lady goes through a bit of paperwork with you, questions regarding whether or not you're able to actually take care of the dogs if you have the time and the money to take care of them. That sort of thing. 

She talks to you a bit, gives you advice on how to take care of them, and then she gives you a crate, one for each of the dogs (but of course, you'll keep them in one crate, no reason to keep them separated), and now, with the crate in your hands and the dogs inside it, you're on your way back to Vander's bar.

You push the door of the bar open, hearing the quiet footsteps of everyone inside, the sound of the music turned off and silence having replaced it. You can hear Vander shushing everyone, and-

“HAPPY BIRTH-” the light snaps on suddenly, and they pause, looking you up and down with confusion... and the crate on your arms. 

“...day?” Mylo continues, awkwardly.

Vander shakes his head. “So, it's not Vi,” he starts, walking closer to the crate. “What's in there?”

“It's for Vi,” you reply, holding the crate closer to your chest. “She's not here yet?”

“Nah,” Ekko answers. “She's still hanging out with Powder. We thought it's Vi when you entered though.”

—

Everyone has their own party hats. The last thing to be done is hide the gifts, and everyone does. Vander puts the presents in the back room. Everyone scrambles for their spots. Mylo, Claggor, and Ekko hide out near the table, while Silco, Sevika, and Benzo are next to Vander behind the counter.

You hear the door creak open, the sound of footsteps entering the bar.

“Thanks powder—oh god, it's dark.”

There's just a moment when everything is silent, the bar silent, and then the light snaps on—all the party supplies go off as everyone around the room yells, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Vander leads the chorus, with everyone jumping from their spots, some popping the confetti poppers they had, others just yelling the words.

Powder walks to the table, picking up the cake she made. Bright pink frosting and a plethora of multicolored icing dots decorate the cake. Everyone around screams and rushes towards Vi, pulling her in the middle to join them.

You grab another one of the party hats off the table, setting it atop Vi's head, your own hat still perfectly secure on your own. “Happy birthday,” you mutter, pecking a kiss on her cheek. She looks up at you with a smile that makes you melt. The others let out an OOOO sound, clearly trying to embarrass her.

Vi flushes, looking back and forth at everyone. She punches the nearest person (Mylo), telling them to “shut up.”

Vander walks up to her, pulling her into a hug and a pat on the back.

“Happy birthday,” Silco hums, giving her a nod, smirk sitting on his lips.

Everyone else joins in, pulling her into one large group hug, wishing her a happy birthday, and making remarks to tease her. Mylo is getting another punch to the arm.

Powder walks over, carefully making her way through everyone to stand in front of Vi, holding the cake in front of her with a grin. “Make a wish.”

Everyone else backs up some, giving her space to think of one. Vi looks around the room, looking each person in the room in the eyes, everyone who showed up for her, her family before her eyes land on you. When she turns back to the cake again, a smile tugs at her lips, and she blows out her candles.

The group cheers, and everyone smiles. Mylo and Claggor are both nudging each other and whispering to each other, grinning widely. Even Vander's eyes are a bit misty, but he blinks it away before Vi can notice, putting an arm around her shoulder.

“The cake better be good,” Mylo mutters, rubbing his hands together, wanting a piece of cake. 

“Obviously,” Powder tells him, giving Mylo a dirty look. “I made it, the cake will be fine.” Powder sets the cake on the table, pushing it out of reach from Mylo, who tries to get a piece right then and there only to get his hand swatted at by Powder.

“Behave,” Silco scolds him. “It's her birthday, not yours.”

Mylo groans. Vander pulls out the cake knife, looking at Vi. “It's your birthday, you get to cut the cake first.”

Vi takes the knife from him, walking forward and staring at the cake. It's a pretty big cake, enough to feed everyone. 

Mylo stands behind her with his mouth practically watering, looking over her shoulder and trying to get a good look at the cake itself, ignoring everyone's protests and telling him to stop breathing down her neck. Everyone crowds behind Vi as she starts cutting the cake, with Mylo making a comment about wanting bigger pieces than everyone else, which he gets a quick shove and a scolding from everyone.

Eventually, after a bit of bickering, the cake is cut up and everyone gets their piece, save for Mylo, who only gets a small slice. “And you get what you asked for,” Vander says, smirking at his pouting face.

Everyone starts eating their piece of cake, complimenting Powder on how it turned out. It's delicious, of course, and the first slice is always the best. Vi sits beside you as she eats, and she nudges you with her shoulder. When you look at her, there's a forkful of cake up to your lips. “Say ahh,” she teases. You can hear Mylo fake gagging.

“I already have,” you hold up your plate as well as the fork still filled with cake.

“Still,” she says. “Pretty please?” she presses, pushing the fork closer to your lips. You can hear Mylo fake gag again, Powder telling him to shut up.

You open your mouth and let her feed you the cake. She waits until you swallow it before setting the fork aside, and she watches to make sure you like it as you chew.

“Ahhhh,” Mylo mocks. Powder kicks his shin, causing Mylo to yelp.

“It's good,” you hum, earning a smile from Vi.

The conversation continues around you, and while everyone else talks and eats, Vi pulls you closer to her, putting an arm around you and resting her head on your shoulder while listening to everyone, her thumb rubbing against your side.

Mylo and Claggor are now bickering, and you can never really tell over what, so you don't question it. It's not your business either way, and you don't care all too much. Silco is watching the two bicker, rubbing his temple, and Benzo is eating his cake, nodding along. Sevika is watching Mylo and Claggor fight, a smirk on her lips.

Vi absentmindedly traces her finger on your forearm, the cake in her other hand long forgotten. 

Everyone continues to eat, and the cake gets half eaten until everyone is satisfied and full. Mylo is complaining that he should've gotten more cake, Powder tells him again to shut up because it wasn't his cake to begin with, and Vander is trying his hardest to keep the peace.

Vi pulls away from you as Silco clears his throat, gathering everyone's attention. “Alright,” he starts. “Who wants to give something to Vi first?”

Everyone looks around at each other, as if trying to figure out who should go first. Claggor nudges Mylo into motion, and the two start to banter while Vander walks over to Vi with a box, setting it on the table in front of her.

Vi looks at the box, eyes trailing over the wrapping paper, and then backs up at Vander before taking the box delicately from the table. She takes the time to slowly unwrap it, not tearing into it too quickly, instead slowly taking the wrapping paper off one corner at a time.

Once she gets the paper off, she starts opening up the box, taking the lid off, and looking inside at the contents inside of it. It's a framed picture of the two of you. The picture is of a Christmas party with everyone at the Last Drop. All grouped up in the picture, surrounding her with smiles, and Vi has her arm wrapped around you, smiling as well.

“Oh,” she starts, trailing her finger down the glass, pausing to tap on your face in the photo. “This is amazing.” 

“There's more,” Vander says, “look at the back.”

In the back of the frame, Vi finds a picture. She pauses when she sees herself, Powder, and her parents. Her eyes linger, fingers stroking the picture. She's so much younger, so much smaller. They are smiling so wide as if they didn't know how things would change soon.

Powder sits down beside her. She rests her head on Vi's shoulder, watching her look at the photo, and she reaches out to take Vi's free hand, squeezing it in support.

Vi's eyes are glossy as she looks up, a faint smile on her face. “Thank you,” she mumbles, looking back down at the photo in her hand and at the faces of her parents. “This really means a lot.”

Vander nods, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I know you miss them,” he murmurs, low enough that it's just the two of them. “Thought you might like that.”

“We all love you, Vi,” Powder says, squeezing her hand.

“Yeah,” Mylo agrees. “You're stuck with us forever, don't forget that.” It earns him a jab in the side from Claggor and a look from Silco, but Vi snorts at him.

—

Everyone else has given Vi their presents. Some smaller, more simple, some more pricey than others.

Silco gifted her a few bottles of alcohol, with the advice not to drink it all in one go. 

Mylo gave her a new set of punching gloves that he saved up for, black and pink with ‘VI’ on the wrist. 

Claggor gave a new brass knuckle set, along with a nice pair of red leather gloves and a new beanie for the winter, since he had noticed hers was old and falling apart. 

Sevika gave a new leather jacket, black and lined with deep red, with silver zippers. She puts it on right away, getting some “ooo's” and “ah's” from everyone upon seeing how she looks with it on.

Benzo brought her a blanket. He explained that he didn't know what to get her, so he walked into the store and looked for the softest blanket they had, thinking it was the only thing that made the most sense.

Ekko gave her a painting. On it was a detailed, almost perfect looking Vi, complete with her tattoos and everything.

Powder gave a whole handmade care package. She made her favorite snacks, made her a book full of scrapbooking items and stickers, made her a bracelet with a few different colored beads, and made a cute mini scrapbook of the two of them and everyone else together. She got a few tears for that one and a tight hug.

Now, there's only one gift left for Vi. You hold the crate in your hands, the crate that holds the two sibling huskies.

The dogs are finally awake and squirming around inside, making noises as they try to greet everyone. You set the crate on the floor and let the pups run out, watching Vi stand up to come over to see the dogs. She kneels down to pet them, scratching behind both of their ears. She smiles as tears form in the corners of her eyes. She scoops both up into her arms, petting its fur and burying her face in its fur, just to take in the fact that she finally has a dog herself, and it's with her favorite person.

Powder grins. “Can I hold the other one?” she asks, and Vi nods her head, adjusting the dog in her arms to give Powder a better opening, allowing her to scoop the other one up, which starts nuzzling against her hand.

Vi turns to look at you. “Do they have names?” She strokes the puppy's fur.

“They do not,” you reply. “I figured you should be the one to name them.”

“I'll have to think of a good one.” She looks back down at the pup in her arms. “Maybe a matching name for them?”

“What about Mylo and Milo?” Mylo suggests, earning another elbow from Claggor.

“Ha ha,” Vi jokes back. “No.”

“That's so corny,” Powder mumbles. “How about a matching 'M' name?” Powder suggests. “like Mandy and Mack.”

“A dog should have a more badass name like Spike!” Mylo says.

Everyone throws out ideas. Some are better than others. Some are more serious, some are funnier, but none of them really stick. Vi listens to everyone's ideas, occasionally humming or shaking her head “no” to the suggestion.

Mylo even suggests one named “Mylo Junior” in a desperate attempt to include his own name, but gets shut down once more. Powder is getting annoyed, and even Ekko is trying to get Mylo to stop. 

Powder keeps suggesting names, and while there are some that seem like good suggestions, Vi doesn't quite agree with them. Claggor throws out a few names, each also being denied, though they are much better than the names Mylo suggested. Sevika even pitches in, the names that she suggests are a lot more serious and more mature sounding.

In the end, Vi still doesn't feel 100% on any of the names that have been thrown out, until she looks back up at you. “Any ideas? You haven't said anything.”

You look over at the dog on Vi's arm and the one on Powder's, looking back at your girlfriend. You're silent for a second before you suggest, “Bacon and Biscuit?”

“Bacon and Biscuit?” Mylo groans.

Sevika gives him a look, her eyebrows raised. “Odd but interesting.” 

“It's kind of cute,” Benzo agrees.

“It suits them, actually,” Silco nods next to him.

Vi thinks about it, looking at the pups as if considering the name. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she says, testing out the sound of it. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she repeats, and a smile creeps on her lips. “You guys like that?” she asks the dogs, as if expecting them to answer her.

Everyone nods their heads, even if they find it corny, it suits the puppies—or at least it suits them at that moment.

“Bacon and Biscuit,” Powder coos, scratching one of the dogs behind the ear.

“It's not the worst thing we've heard,” Mylo admits. “But Mylo Jr. is way better,” and this earns him a punch in the arm again.

She looks back up at you. “I love it,” she says, looking back down at the dogs. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she repeats once more, loving the way it sounds.

“The names are set, then,” Vander says. “Now that that's settled, let's continue with the birthday party, shall we?”

notes: i do NOT know how to name a pet so....

[yourhighness5]

I think I need someone older.

Spencer Reid × Younger Co-worker

You were relatively new to the BAU, but you’d instantly taken a liken to Dr Spencer Reid.

The only problem was that he was 6 years older than you.

“Sami, for the last time, I’m too old for you. There’s plenty people that are your age.”

Reid’s voice was sharp as he stared down at you, his arms crossed

"I dont want planty of people, i want YOU"

You looked at him from below, observing him and begging him with your puppy eyes, while you blinked several times.

Dr Reid groaned slightly, rolling his eyes.

“Seriously? You’re not going to win me over with those puppy dog eyes.”

Spencer was stubborn. But he was a man, and god did those eyes do things to him.

"Please, doctor..."

You twisted a strand of your hair around your finger, playing with it.

He was about to rebut you, when you started playing with the strand of your hair.

And damn, it was cute.

Spencer groaned again, rubbing his temple with his hand. “You’re a pain, you know that?”

"You don't mean that" You smiled

“I do. You’re a pain.”

Spencer tried to keep up his gruff exterior, but seeing your smile made it difficult. He was starting to soften against you.

"No you don't" You leaned on the desk, lifting yourself up a little, obviously the low-cut top you were wearing became more noticeable, but your face was angelic, innocent.

His gaze flicked down, looking at the low-cut top you were wearing, then back up to your face.

“Damn it” he mumbled under his breath. God, you were wearing him down.

"You know you want me"

His tongue ran over his bottom lip involuntarily as he looked at you. Yes, he did know he wanted you. But damn, you were 6 years younger than him.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” he grumbled.

"only for you"

Spencer groaned again, looking straight into your eyes. You had him by the balls.

“You’re going to drive me crazy, you know that?” he grunted before wrapping one of his large hands around the nape of your neck, pulling you in close to him.

You let out a soft moan, almost inaudible, when one of his large hands wrapped around your neck.

It was all too much. Your small moans, mixed in with the scent of your perfume and the innocent look on your face, Spencer just snapped. He needed you. Now.

He pulled you close, and before you knew it, his lips were crashing down on yours.

A rebellious smile escaped between your lips, u had gotten what u wanted, u got up from your chair to sit on his lap, balancing on him.*

When you climbed into his lap, his hands went straight to your hips, grabbing them possessively. He broke the kiss so that he could look at you, a low growl escaping him.

“God, you’re so irritating.” he said, his eyes roving over your body.

"Yeah, whatever you say"

One of his hands left your hip to grab your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Watch the attitude, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

"Oh yes sir"

The nickname, the low and commanding voice, how he grabbed ur chin, u think u were dripping under ur skirt.*

He smirked as he noticed the change in your demeanor. You were going to go from being a brat to being a good girl for him.

“That’s more like it. Seems you can be taught.”

His hand moved from grasping your chin to gently wrapping around your throat.

You let out a moan when his hand wrapped around your neck, u rocked on top of him, craving the contact.

As you rocked on top of him, he groaned, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. He leaned in to speak into your ear, his voice gruff.

“You know that if you were mine, I wouldn’t be so gentle with you?”

"I wanna be yours, please"

Spencer growled as he heard your words.

“If I take you, sweetheart, you’ll have to do exactly what I say when I say it. Got that?” his hand on your hip squeezing your side.

"Yes yes, whatever you say"

“Good girl.”

His hand on your hip slid to your thigh, gripping it tightly.

“You wanna be mine?” he asked, moving his lips over the sensitive skin of your neck, nipping at it slightly.

The nickname made u moan again, whimpers coming out of ur juicy, plump lips, as u pressed against his hand.* "Yes, oh fuck, please!"

“Damn it. You’re so needy, aren’t you?” he bit down on your neck, just hard enough to leave a mark.

“If you’re mine, you’re not wearing these little skirts anymore, understood?”

His grip on your thigh was almost bruising, his hand squeezing your soft flesh.

U let out a moan of contradiction, a tantrum was noticeable on the features of ur face, u loved those miniskirts but u loved him more.*

He pulled away from your neck, watching the pout on your face.

“Oh, you’re upset, are you?” he asked with a smirk.

His hand left your thigh and moved to the bottom of the skirt, grabbing it in his fist.

“Are these little skirts more important than me?” he asked, a gruff quality in his voice.

"No, im sorry" U tried to get the pout out of ur face, but u was a damn spoiled girl, u werent used to not having what u wanted.

His smirk grew as you pouted. You were just too cute when you pouted at him.

“You can pout all you want, sweetheart, but you don’t get to pick what you wear from now on.”

He looked down at your skirt, his hand still gripping the material.

“And you’re never wearing a skirt this short unless you’re at home with me.”

"It's not fair!" Ur juicy, plump lips pursed, throwing a tantrum, but ur eyes lit up when u heard that u were allowed to wear them if u were with him at home.*

He chuckled at your pouty face.

“You really do throw a tantrum like a child, you know that?” he said before grabbing your chin firmly again, making you look at him.

“I’m gonna have to train you to behave, aren’t I?”

"I don't refuse"

He smirked as you readily agreed to being trained to behave.

“Yeah, but you’re not going to like it. You’ll get what you want in the end, but you’ll have to be a good little girl for me and do what I say.”

He suddenly let go of your chin, grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against him.

"Ah!"

When he grabbed ur hips and pulled me flush against him he made u moan.

"I don't know if I'm going to like it but I'm definitely enjoying this"

He chuckled at your moan.

“Oh, you like that, do you?” he said, one hand grabbing your hip, the other grabbing the nape of your neck, holding you close to him.

He could smell your scent, it was intoxicating.

"Definetly" U said, strands of ur hair stuck to my forehead, ur mouth half open, ur nails digging into your shoulders, a wet spot on his pants from probably the multiple times u had come from just rubbing against his bulge.*

Everything was perfect, until Emily called him, it was probably a work call, so that we could all attend the room and work on a new case.*

You definitely wanted to see how he was going to act with you in front of our mates after everything that had happened.

As Emily’s call came through, Spencer gave you a wink.

“To be continued,” he said, before answering.

He stood up from his seat, moving out the room to talk to Emily. All while you waited to see how he’d treat you in front of the team after all the flirting, the confessions and the touches.

A little later, you both entered the living room, where Derek, Aaron, Emily and Garcia were waiting for you both.

Spencer noticed their eyes on you as you both walked in. The team quickly took notice of your demeanor and of the mark on your neck.

Spencer smirked and walked over to the table with the files, grabbing one. The team’s eyes all flicked to him, their eyes asking him to explain what they’d just seen.

“The case in Buffalo,” he began, “it’s bad.”

[talekinesis]

edit: fic is available now

Au where Odysseus didn't kill Astyanax but adopted him, and instead tricked Zeus with a rock that had been swaddled like a baby, the same way Rhea tricked Cronus (if he can eat people like his father, he can also be tricked by rocks)

He's raised on the ship and by the crew, taught how to use a sword, and told all about his new family waiting for him back home

But the crew remembers what Astyanax's fate was supposed to be, and how he was supposedly going to grow up and kill everyone anyway, so they're kind of weary about the whole situation

And Astyanax hears a couple of them talking about it, and that's ironically how he learns Odysseus killed his bio father and stole him and what triggers fate to play out

When the crew catches wind of the boy acting out and declaring war on Odysseus, they're like "Ody, we gotta kill this kid before he grows up and becomes too strong,"

Keep in mind Astyanax is like 7 years old at this point, he's quite a bit younger than Telemachus

And Odysseus is pre-grieving his adopted son. He doesn't want to kill him, he wanted to give him a second chance and raise him properly and take him home to Penelope. But knowing what Zeus told him, he agrees, but is like, "If anyone is to kill this boy, it has to be me. This is my fault, this was my idea, and I am the one who raised him."

And so the next island they stop at, Odysseus takes him to the shore to watch the sunset because he doesn't want him to be scared or in distress. He raises his blade, and before he can swing, a god stops him and spares Astyanax

Not for Odysseus' sake, since a lot of gods don't seem to like him, but purely for the sake of the child that was about to be put down like a dog

Though now that Astyanax knows that Odysseus:

Killed his people

Killed his father

Kidnapped him

And was about to kill him too

this only drives a bigger wedge between them

As Astyanax gets older, he tries to start multiple mutinies, he's tried to run away, and he's attempted assassination, only to be stopped by Eurylochus and sent back to bed

No one really fears him anymore since his only target is Odysseus, and at this point they all kinda understand why. They don't agree with it but they get it

But as the trip continues, this kid witnesses Poseidon drown men, he's seen Odysseus trade their lives for his own, but through all of it, he always made sure that Astyanax lived, no matter how much fighting, bargaining, or straight up begging it took

He realizes that despite his original fate, despite the numerous assassination attempts, Odysseus is still fighting to bring him home because he still sees him as his son

So now on their little raft together, they reach Ithica. Astyanax is like 10 now

He follows his father to his palace. He watches the slaughter take place, and he finally meets this family that Odysseus has told him so much about

And it doesn't go as well as one would think

Penelope misunderstands what "This is my son," means at first and thinks Odysseus was unfaithful. There's a lot of tears and yelling at first before she understands that Astyanax is adopted because her husband couldn't bear to kill him. With this new context, she fully embraces this boy as her own, and scolds Odysseus about how to phrase things in the future

Telemachus doesn't like him at first, feeling replaced, and jealous that Astyanax got to grow up with his dad, when he didn't. It takes about a week before he comes around and realizes "I'm twenty, and I'm mad at a kid half my size for something he couldn't control. I cant imagine what he's seen," and fully takes on his role as 'big brother.'

Now keep in mind Astyanax grew up from infant on a ship of only men and soldiers, so it takes QUITE a while to teach him how to interact with people, especially girls. Before arriving to Ithica, he hasn't had much experience with women at all, save for the occasional witch or goddess

He gets uncharacteristically shy when he first meets Penelope because he just has no idea how to interact with her. He sticks with Odysseus for the first few days before Penelope is able to coax him closer with soft words and promise of a treat (essentially treating him like a frightened wild animal)

He very quickly becomes a mama's boy, helping her any chance he can get, sticking by her side, and bringing her random objects he's found and learned about (usually small animals)

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Bde who has a really strong praise kink and gets turned on from it......

A/N: I've combined this request and one for soft dom reader with Elvis together into this story. Thanks for both! Also I love praise kink so I am weaaaaak for writing him like this. I went for 77 BDE for this one.

Good boy

Pairing: BDE x Older soft dom!Reader

Word count: 1.9K

TWs: Age gap (reader is 15 years older than Elvis), praise kink, use of mama in a sexual context, angst, Elvis cries, smut.

You’re almost a little nervous tonight, though you’re not sure why. It’s not as if he’s going to see you, let alone pick you out of everyone in the crowd. He doesn’t know you’re here, how could he? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you, it’s been so long since you last saw one another. And in the meantime you’ve moved to Charlotte, which is where he’s playing the final date of his tour. You’ve seen a lot about him in the press, read a lot of unkind comments and looked at a lot of unflattering photos. He certainly looks different to the young man you met in Memphis, full of boyish enthusiasm, with his floppy hair and puppy dog eyes. But you look different too. You were in your mid-thirties then, and obviously you’re much older now. Life has been relatively kind, though you’re divorced and you never had any kids, you’ve kept your figure and your hair has greyed in streaks that almost make you look distinguished. Your best friend told you that you should dye it, women of your age dye their hair she’d said, but you don’t care. You’ve never been one for doing what women of your age are supposed to, or you’d never have dated a man 15 years your junior. And you wouldn’t be at a rock concert now. 

When you eventually find your seat you’re much nearer the front that you’d imagined, and when he comes out in a beautiful white jumpsuit with what looks like feathers embroidered on it you audibly gasp. From the moment the music starts and he starts to move you’re captivated, memories of your time together flooding back to you just watching those hips. During Love Me you watch women elbow their way to the stage for scarves and kisses, and suddenly your legs seem to be taking you out of your seat too. You don’t expect to get to the stage in time, or for him to see you, you’re just acting on impulse. It feels a little like he’s hypnotised you, and you don’t have any choice in the matter.

And then he sees you. To begin with, he just sees an attractive older lady, well put together, waves of dark brown hair streaked with white. But as he bends down to ask if you want a scarf or a kiss, there’s something familiar in your face, and he thinks he must’ve met you before. 

“Have we met, honey?” He asks, wrapping a scarf around your neck and using it to pull you towards him, since you’d been too stunned to answer his first question. 

Your brain eventually kicks into gear. “We’ve done more than that,” you whisper, letting him kiss you gently. 

“Is that so?” He’s still trying to place you, his brain is slower nowadays and he’s tired. So tired. But he keeps you there, in the hopes he’ll remember or you’ll tell him. 

“You were my good boy, back in Memphis.”

Elvis is relieved he’d kept the mic far away from you both when he hears those words. He’s hit by such a powerful wave of memory it almost knocks him onto his ass. He blinks rapidly and then stares right into your eyes and you see that he remembers you. He whispers your name softly, and you nod. 

“Don’t go anywhere after,” he says quickly, seeing the sea of women gathering around you. “Someone will get you.”

You spend the rest of the show in a daze, thinking about his lips, the way he looked at you, the words he whispered like a plea. Don’t go.

***

You don’t go and someone does come and get you, and then you’re jammed in the backseat of the car between Elvis and one of his goons. The journey is mercifully short, and he holds your hand the whole time, a little smile playing on his lips. You’re relieved when he takes you into his suite and dismisses everyone else. Standing there in the middle of the room, still in his jumpsuit and belt, he looks both beautiful and incredibly tired. He looks down at you and sighs softly. 

“I-I can’t believe it’s you.”

“I can’t believe you remembered me.”

“Are ya kiddin’? ‘Course I do.”

You smile at one another as you keep standing there, taking one another in. After a few moments you decide to take control. 

“Why don’t you get comfortable? Take those clothes off, have a shower.”

He hums and fiddles slightly with his sleeve. “Ummm, mama…”

Your smile grows at the pet name. “Go on, I’ll sit with you in the bathroom.”

His breath catches in his throat thinking about you seeing him the way he is now. “Ah… I…”

“You want to be a good boy for me?” You ask, your hand on his face as you look into his eyes.

For the first time in a while, Little Elvis stirs at your words. “Yes, mama,” he whispers. 

“Off you go then.”

He nods and walks slowly over to the bathroom. You set the water going and check the temperature, and then sit on the side of the bath as he undresses awkwardly. 

“Your show was so good,” you coo, and he looks up. 

“Really?”

“Mmm yes. And you looked so good in that suit.” 

He lets the jumpsuit fall to the floor and you catch a quick glimpse of his semi-erect dick in his little white stage pants before he obscures them with his hands. He blushes as he asks you if you really thought that. 

Standing up, you put your arms around his neck, tugging his head down so you can whisper in his ear. “Yes, and you look good enough to eat right now too.”

His adorable, bashful smile lights up his face and he kisses you quickly, impulsively. You feel blood rushing between your legs and you smile back at him again. “And if you’re good you can have everything you want.”

He barely suppresses a little moan at those words. Doing what you told him to was one of his favourite things, when he was young and just getting famous. The way you told him how good he was filled him with warmth. He bathed in your praise, all your affirming words and gentle touches, and right now it feels like it’s exactly what he needs, after this long and gruelling tour. Stepping into the perfectly warm shower, he sighs as he washes away the grime of the performance. He finds himself in your arms on the bed, cocooned in just a robe as your nails scratch his sideburns, digging in and making him almost purr. You’re wearing one of his pyjama tops, it’s long on you but you’ve taken your panties off and he knows your bare pussy is under there. He looks at your long legs on either side of him. 

“Mama, you’re so beautiful.”

You kiss his temple as you blush a little at the compliment. You’re not immune to praise either, even though it’s his thing. Knowing he still wants you after all this time is a little dizzying, knowing your age doesn’t matter to him, the time that’s passed since you last saw one another doesn’t matter either. 

You’d discovered his love of praise almost straight away. He was so young and eager to please, and you taught him how to please you in a thousand different ways. An enthusiastic learner, he loved you instructing him, moving his head and then telling him when he’d hit the perfect spot. And the way you spoke to him afterwards. That was probably his favourite part. He would get so hard just from licking you out and you telling him he was a good boy that sometimes he’d cum before you even touched him. 

“Thank you, baby. You wanna make mama feel good?”

He nods quickly, almost scrambling to turn around to face you. You giggle, and the sound makes you feel like a young woman again. Instructing him to lie on his belly, you carefully lift the top up, exposing yourself for him. He groans at the sight of you. He’s seen a lot of pussies by now, but he could still have remembered every inch of yours without looking, he’s mapped it out with his tongue so many times. He crawls closer and his big hands spread your thighs, open-mouthed kisses trailing down the insides of them, just the way you used to like. 

“Yes, baby. I love your kisses.”

He keeps kissing, between your legs now, making you moan. His thumbs spread your lips as he dives in, making out with your pussy like he used to make out with girls when he was young. 

“Oh. That tongue feels so good.”

His hard-on presses against the bed as he keeps going, tongue dipping inside you, nose nudging your clit. 

“Yes, baby!” 

Pleasure buzzes in your veins as he carries on, worshipping you and tasting you. You need a lot to get turned on these days, but he brings back so many memories that you can feel yourself giving in to it. Bathing in the feeling, enjoying the journey. 

Once he thinks he’s got you good and wet, he moves his attention to your clit and slides a long finger inside. 

“Oh!”

“Is it good, mama?” He mumbles against you. 

“So good, baby. Oh you’re so good for me. Fuck. You’re gonna make me cum so hard baby. All over your gorgeous face.”

Another finger slides in beside the first, and he curls them to hit the spot he remembers inside you as he continues to work your clit with his tongue. The way you’re talking to him is driving him crazy, his hips are rutting into the bed just like they used to. 

“Oh fuck… yes…” 

You grab his head, pulling his hair a little as you push him onto your clit harder, feeling yourself teeter on the edge of oblivion. And then you’re moaning, and everything disappears in a blinding flash of light as your orgasm slams into your body. 

He licks you through it, trying to still his hips and stay patient. Waiting for you to tell him he’s done a good job. 

“Oh, my good boy,” you sigh, desperately pulling him towards you. 

You rearrange so his back is against your chest again, your hand on his belly as your eyes close and you savour your dizzying high. 

“Am I still good for you, mama?” 

You slowly reopen your eyes and look down at him, his blue eyes brimming with tears. 

“So good, baby. Best I’ve ever had.”

He turns his head as he closes his eyes again and a tear escapes down his cheek. Your heart aches for him. You don’t have to ask to know that he’s tired, that this wasn’t the life he thought he’d have, that he's just fulfilling obligations now. 

“You want mama to make you cum, baby?”

“Yes please,” he whispers, eyes still closed. 

Reaching down, your hand snakes around him. His breath hitches at the feeling, and he moans the moment you start to move slowly, up and down. 

“You’re so perfect. So gorgeous. So sexy. So good at making me feel good. I love everything about you, baby.”

You tell him all that and more, softly into his ear as your hand works him. Another tear sneaks down his cheek as you touch him and praise him, the feeling in his chest overwhelming. When he finally cums he calls out your name, and more tears spill from his eyes. 

“I love you, mama,” he whispers. 

Wrapping him tightly in your body, you kiss his face. “I love you too, baby. I’m glad we found each other again.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep @nebulamorada @iloveelvis2

[littleplantfreak]

A Candle’s Memory

Pairing: Umemiya x Reader

Cw: Fluff and slight hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1782

I did this as an exercise that turned into me writing for longer than I was supposed to because I felt sad about leaving it unfinished. The Prompts were candle wick or an old flame rekindled (I did both) and the theme was : Preservation in preparation for the coming winter, we try to hold onto the last bit of warmth. Write about letting go, or not wanting to.

Oh! Thank you @birinboom, min skat and my lovely beta reader. I wouldn’t have posted it without you 😘

Thunk

Snow hitting your window snaps your mind out of the book you were reading and breaks the immersion completely, causing more anger than fear. You know the face that pops up outside the window immediately as you give him a bored look. For a 12 year old, Umemiya's more dependable than most adults, dragging himself out of bed at 6:00AM to shovel the older neighbors' sidewalks. His cheeks and nose are stained red, and his sniffling causes the window to fog up.

When you crack the window halfway, the warmth is sucked out of your room, the wind blowing the candle you were using as a reading light out. Dog earring the page of your book, you reach out as your hands cover his cheeks, hoping to bring him some form of warmth. You really have to pity his poor skin with the way he gives it no more care than to wrap a scarf around his neck and sometimes bury his face deep in it to keep away frostbite.

"Whatcha readin' this time?" He asks, feeling the blood return to his face now that there's warm skin over his own frigid cheeks. The candle blown out stares him down while the wax cools as if faulting him for its death.

"Treasure Island. You should read it after I'm done." Because he should. You know his taste, and this is something he can get behind. Pirates and adventure for a boy who's got an equally adventurous dream roiling in his bones. He never asks what it's about, and you never tell him, both content at the surprise.

"I'll pick it up on my way to school," Is all he says to that before taking the matches off the side of the table and relighting your candle. He hops down a little ways, setting out to do at least two more sidewalks before he has to go back home and get dressed.

This routine continues until it stops snowing. Or at least you would think it would. He doesn't have any real reason to come back once it's warm enough, you'd think, but when he shows up on a morning without snow, you're a bit confused.

"I saw the candle going again and decided to stop by." He says immediately. It's still cold, but his face is much less irritated by it without precipitation.

"Are you...on a walk?"

"Something like that!" He says leaning into the window, giving no concern over how close he gets to you or the burning candle he almost knocks over. It'd be silly to say you didn't have a crush on him, especially with his constant morning attention and how his smile seemed to light up your room more than your candle ever could.

His eyes go to the book you're reading once again. This time the cover reads Hamlet. When he meets your eyes again, you let out a breath you'd been holding.

"This one is a tragedy, so you might not like it as much." It's more than you've ever said about one of the books before.

"Do you like it?" He asks, gray eyes dancing between looking at your bedhead and the pretty eyes that caught his attention the first time he saw you through the window.

"I do."

"I'll give it a try." He shows a softer smile, less thousand-watt and more warm sunny day. You're not sure if he can tell just how breathless it makes you when he does that. Surely he has to know. The thought of him smiling like that makes your heart twist in an unpleasant way, but you'll be damned if you ever let that monster win against showing him nothing but the smile you return to him.

The one morning you wish he'd come, he doesn't. The dread you feel lays heavy like a rock in your throat as the moving van comes that afternoon, dragging you away from your window. Before you leave, you look from the outside where he'd stand, seeing from his point of view what it looked like sans burning candle. Surely it must look more comforting with the flame and its golden halo.

When you think about him coming back to the dark empty frame, no longer allowed access, the tears you thought would be so easy to hold back fall painfully. The bookmark you lay out on the windowsill that your parents bought you as a birthday present sits limp and dead, and you wonder if it'll blow away before he finds it.

It does not blow away before he finds it, luckily. The unlucky thing is that you're gone. He's been kept away by a fever he didn't think would get worse after the first day. Try as he might've to meet you, the room spun, and he quickly and often became accustomed to the toilet those three days he was bedridden. The bookmark had small pressed petals and a pink tassel to match them. He holds it tight, looking at the window and feeling like it was a closed door.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

When you move back to your hometown, you're well out of high school. The town has changed for the better as you walk through, seeing the community flourish with potted plants in front of stores no longer kicked and smashed, and kids walking together, no nervous glances to the alleyways anymore. You've got an inkling as to who's responsible for the change, but you brush aside thoughts of him even now, the nostalgia keeping you from reading any books you'd shared back then. You'd learned fast back then that rereading them only caused stormy waves to wash over you, soaking you in a delicate sadness.

There are plenty of books in the world. A few are off limits. If you saw him, though, would it allow you to read them again, the way you so desperately wish to? Sometimes you wonder if it's the books you miss or the interest Umemiya gave to both you and the pages.

You buy your old house from your parents, who never got around to selling it. It's run down and dusty, and the rooms are the same as ever. You can't bring yourself to take any room but your own from back then, setting it up differently except for the desk against the window.

The old scentless candle is now replaced with a sweet lemon one that you allow to burn while the window stays open well into the later evening. The lack of scent back then was only due to your parents who weren't pleased with your staying up past bedtime, hours into the next morning, and then sleeping when you got home from school until you started the cycle once more.

The house feels better now that you've got it clean, at least. There are carpets to rip out, and leaks to check. The backyard is overgrown, and the light in the shed refuses to work, but this is home. It feels more like home than the house you'd moved to all those years ago.

The next day, you walk back to your house from the library with a stack of three books nestled close to your chest. You can't help your eyes flickering to the large figure making his way to the door you've just come out of, and when you hold it for him, you're more sure than ever.

"Umemiya Hajime, is that you?" you ask, voice a little more enthused than you'd wanted it to be. He looks once, then to the door before he double takes. You can see the cogs turning in his mind, with the cutest pout you didn't know a grown man could make. Your name falls from his mouth like a question. "The one and only," you say, and your smile turns fond, remembering just how much tinier he used to be. You were always taller than him, at least from your seat at the desk, but now he towers above you.

"It's really you," he breathes for a moment, looking at the differences and picking them out easily. He feels like it was just yesterday that he leaned too close to your candle, singeing the end of his scarf by accident. He remembers the look of panic when you realized he was on fire and started smacking at him with your book. You'd ended up having to buy that one from the library due to the soot and small scorches to the cover from your rescue. He still has it on a shelf in his room, insisting he'd pay you back, but you said it'd be a late Christmas present despite it being closer to Valentine's day than anything. When he brought it up back then, you'd waved it off, stuttering something about how it was more about intention than actual calendar dates.

"Are you visiting?" He asks, not having heard that you were around from anyone, but you always were a bit more introverted.

"I bought my old house and moved back actually. There was a job with a 20-minute commute from here, so I figured it'd be great to be somewhere familiar. I didn't know Makochi changed this much." He sees the crinkle of your eyes and the smile you throw to him when you say the last sentence, knowing you've always been fully aware of his dreams. Seeing that was worth more than any praise. The look was praise itself, maybe, given how it filled his chest with a warmth that had him laying a hand there as his fingers played with the neck of his shirt as he tried hard not to fist the fabric.

"If I'd known, I would've stopped by sooner."

"You know now, so stop by whenever you want," you laugh, because years ago, he would never have been shy about it. The book you see he's holding has something pink attached. A memory surfaces, spanning over years of living in a separate, different place, only to settle right where a story ended. At least you thought it had ended, but maybe you'll have to crack it open again just to be sure.

"This time, you can come in through the door."  You walk off with a wave, thinking about lighting that lemon scented candle again when you get home. You let it burn long enough last time for the memory to shape the wax into a nice, even pool, which will help the wick burn slow and steady once you relight it.

[definitelysome1]

Hi! I saw that one of your posts was scraped, and I wanted to empathize because I actually just had that happen! Since I know it's rough, I wanted to first say that you are welcome to talk to me any time. ❤️

But! More importantly I wanted to ask about if you wanted to share any more HCs for Tim Drake's goofy music tastes?

Asking cus I love your take that he loves MCR (because I like MCR lol) and I've always thought he'd LOVE weird music like Glorbo 🤣 ❤️🥧 Happy Pi Day

1. Idk how to start this off other than to say thank you. It really is weird to randomly see your own post on another website without being asked for permission but I guess it is what it is, at least they kept my name in the post 😃

2. Anyway- as you put it “more importantly”, yes I do want to share more Tim music taste head canons :)

First of all, I actually made a playlist on Spotify based off what I think he listen to, if anyone wants to listen

It’s mainly emo rock, alt/indie music, some soft metal and a little RNB. There’s also some rap in there

(And some pop songs because- reluctantly- pop songs can be good, although he would never admit that out loud.)

(Note: I’m going to assume that you made a typo and it was supposed to say glorb and not glorbo bc the band glorbo has 500 listeners monthly(which isn’t a bad thing, but it would be an insane coincidence if we both listened to that band) and also they don’t really make weird music. Anyway- I’d agree that Tim would listen to glorb occasionally, but I think he’d get overwhelmed pretty quickly)

Here are some highlights from the playlist along with hcs:

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE - our little stalker was introduced to mcr when he was in middle school bc one of the older kids told him he looked like a Gerard Way wannabe(which he did not, but what does a 12 year old know)- he looked the guy up and was like “hm, I wonder what his music sounds like” and then he fell down the rabbit hole. His favourite mcr song is You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison

I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME - the first time I heard the song MAD IQs I thought “this is literally Tim Drake as a song”. IDKHOW is the perfect amount of weird and funky for Tim, and I can just imagine him jamming in his room to the entire RAZZMATAZZ album. He found IDKHOW one random Thursday when he was like 16 while watching some obscure video essay on YouTube. His favourite IDKHOW song is obviously MAD IQs

JXDN - ngl this is probably just a projection of my own music taste. But look at his merch

And tell me it isn’t something Tim would walk around in… (his favourite JXDN song is JUST LET GO)

Bad Omens - another projection bc this band has taken over my life. Tim would go around the manor singing THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND quietly and Jason would be following him trying to figure out what the hell he’s singing because it’s actually half good. After patrol one day Jason threatens that he’ll steal Tim’s favourite mug if he doesn’t tell Jason what song he’s been singing and three months later they’re going to a Bad Omens concert together. Tim also thinks the lead singer is pretty attractive, so that definitely helped him get into them. His favourite Bad Omens song is The Gray

Queen - obviously Tim listens to queen, duh. He is a bisexual man in the 21st century, he was probably born with the need to listen to Killer Queen at least once a day. His favourite Queen song is Killer queen, but Don’t Stop Me Now is a close second

Mother Mother - Tim was extremely late to listen to MM. The first time he heard about them was when HAYLOFT II came out, but when he did start listening to them, he binged literally all of their songs in one night. His favourite Mother Mother song is Oh Ana

Mitski - one of his friends in high school (right before he dropped out) made him listen to I Bet On Losing Dogs, and Tim started violently sobbing. He went home that day, extremely embarrassed, and listened to Mitski while crying and eating ice cream. His favourite Mitski song is A Pearl

Ending note:

I firmly believe that Tim doesn’t care what language the music is in (which is also why there are some Japanese songs on the playlist), and I really wanted to put some kpop songs on the playlist, but I have a sneaking suspicion that most of the Batfam fandom wouldn’t be very appreciative of that, so I haven’t. But if anyone wants there to be, lmk and I’ll make a separate playlist for what kpop songs he’d listen to.

[verdantwyrm]

What are your favorite quotes from mouthwashing?

Oh I have a few! Not so much quotes for all of them, but just things that has been said that I like a lot

"I like it. We’re in control here."

"How come it always seems like you’re standing on the edge of a bridge with your feet in cement?"

"But hey, hey, hey. You know I believe in you. Here. On Earth. Doesn’t matter."

"As long as I'm fit to fly in your eyes, Anya."

"At ease, ponyboy."

"That's the sound of 15 years of sobriety popping like a cyst. A glorious, magnificent, red hot cyst!"

"You never shoulda come here. Who the fuck even decided to let you board, huh? Stick the idiot with a bunch of sad sack adults and see what he learns, eh? Bootstraps and all that. What a load of horseshit. You think it’s all goin’ somewhere but every failure leaves you a little more mangled than before. Older, uglier, meaner. Smarter in a worse way."

"Decades of hauling ass for Pony Express, big mighty bruiser with all his shiny tools. This is where it got me. The good life, huh?"

"Sometimes we thrive, travel the endless reaches of space. But other times we just have to accept days like these. You taught me that, Curly. Let’s eat. Let’s survive."

"So now that we’re at the end. Takin’ inventory. Those nights spinning out of my head, sinking into the sofa. Broken glass in my palms. Bleeding dry the funniest thing ever. Old dogs laughing and snarling on a waterbed floor, mocking the moon for daring to show its face. All nausea and wreckage and vomit and ugly cruelty. The only problem in the world an empty bottle. Those were the best days of my life. Yeah.… Those were the best days of my life."

"If I could have done one thing right, I wish it had been to give him one small chance off this goddamned rock."

"No. We can both be heroes. We’re a team. Just you and me, like we used to be. What happened was an accident. We were trapped. I made a mistake, alright?! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry, Curly!"

Most of it is just stuff Swansea says to be honest, he has some of the best dialogue in the entire game....

[is-emily-real]

In Love With The Boy

Richard couldn't care less that his son was gay. Quite the opposite, actually. He’d had his fair share of dalliances in his day, and he was glad Steve got to be open about that part of himself.

No, Richard Harrington had a problem with who his son chose to date.

“I don’t like this,” he said as he leaned against the doorway.

Helen touched up her lipstick in the bathroom mirror. “Like what?”

“This whole situation with the Munson boy.” 

She fixed him with a glare. “Now, you swore to me that you’d love our son no matter what.” Even after all this time, she couldn’t drop her drawl when she was ticked off.

“No no, it’s not that. I just don’t think Eddie’s a good idea for Steve.”

“Oh. Well, can’t help love, I suppose.”

“I’ve heard some rumors about him from Darlene.”

“Baby, Darlene’s older than Moses. You ain’t gotta listen to her.”

“I do if I don’t want my coffee poisoned. That woman’s mean.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Eddie’s perfectly fine. Steve’s happier than he has been since he and Nancy broke up, and we are not going to ruin that for him.”

He put his hands up. “Alright, but I’m allowed to not like him. Father’s intuition.”

“What was it my daddy said the day we got married?”

“When he told my great-aunt I was dumber than a box of rocks or when he called me a no-good papist bastard in front of the priest?”

“Exactly. And it’s been twenty-three years since then. But,” she sighed, “if it makes you feel better, we can come home a bit early tonight, and I’ll talk to him before he leaves.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you. If we hurry, we can get seats by Alan and Brenda.”

Helen flashed that beautiful smile that’d caught his heart so long ago. “No, sir. You and Alan are trouble together.”

------

It was a lazy date, but one Steve wouldn’t give up for the world. He and Eddie were curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background that he didn’t give a damn about. Instead, he was distracted by the feeling of the man in his arms.

These moments were so different from how Eddie portrayed himself. Out in the world, he was larger than life, eccentric, untouchable. But here, under the blankets, he shared his softest smiles, undid him with the lightest touches. He told Steve stories he’s never told before, shared the little details of his experiences and questioned the meaning of the universe. He drew the same from Steve, until there was nothing in his life that he would hide from these intimate moments.

He traced the scars along Eddie’s sides. If Robin was his other half, Eddie was his compliment, fitting around his curves and edges just so. They moved with each other in intricate patterns, calming and encouraging in turn, bringing out the best and tempering the worst. He adored Eddie and felt adored.

No one had ever made him feel that way before.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked.

He hummed, pressing a kiss behind his ear.

“Where do you see us in the future?”

“Wherever. As long as you’re there, I’m happy.”

“Really? Anywhere?”

“I’d follow you to the moon if you asked.”

Eddie smiled. “I followed you into hell, so it’s only fitting.”

Steve laughed. “Of course.” He took a beat to consider it and continued, “I mean, we can get a little house somewhere and have a couple pets, babysit for the neighbors, grow a little garden. I’d like that.”

“I would too.” He flipped over so their chests pressed together, faces mere inches from each other. Eddie had a mischievous grin on his lips. “I get to pick at least one fight with someone on our street.”

“What for?”

“Blood feuds are the staple of suburbia, sweetheart. How am I to be properly domesticated if I can’t have that basic right?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Fine, but if it comes to blows, I’m not bailing you out.”

“What if they really deserve it? Not even then?” He pouted, giving him those puppy dog eyes he couldn’t resist.

“You’re a menace.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

Steve pulled him close, basking in Eddie’s smile as he kissed him soft and slow. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have imagined that he’d be here with the whole world in his hands, content to let the hours pass by as they clung to one another. 

He was safe. He was home.

Eddie drew back, fondness in his eyes as he posed the next question. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

His heart soared. “You mean…”

“Marry me, as soon as we can. Even if we have to run away.” Eddie slipped off the silver skull ring he always toyed with and held it out. “I’ll save up for wedding bands, I swear.”

He almost couldn’t get the words out, the way his heart pounded. “God, yes,” he whispered. The warm metal was snug on his finger, and then, then he was being kissed like the Earth was on the verge of collapse.

They held each other tight, joy and need spinning into something desperate that kept their lips moving against each other, hands tangled in clothes as they let gravity overtake them. Steve felt it snare around his heart, hook them together in a way he’d never protest. 

He never had to let Eddie go again.

The crunch of tires in the driveway cut through his bliss. “Shit!” Eddie squeaked. “You didn’t say they’d be home early!”

“Maybe it’s just someone turning around.” The car came to a stop and cut off. “Son of a bitch.”

They sprang apart, rushing to make themselves presentable. His mother’s heels clicked up the steps.

Eddie’s eyes were as wide as saucers. He grabbed his wrist. “Hey. I love you, okay?”

One short nod. “I love you.” 

The key rattled in the lock. He took a breath, composing his face into casual coolness before the door opened. 

“Boys!” his mom called, wrapping him in a hug. 

“Hey,” he replied, “how was tonight?”

“Oh, it was fine. I’m just a bit tired today, so we figured we oughtta come on home.” She frowned. “We did miss dessert, though. I think I’ll have a slice of pie before bed. Come have some, Eddie.”

She had him by the arm before he could protest. He threw a panicked glance over his shoulder, but Richard’s grip on Steve’s arm stopped any interference. “Steve told me you’ve got family in Tennessee. What part?”

“Just outside Savannah, ma’am.”

“You don’t want to get involved in that.” Richard let him go. “Let’s talk in my office.”

Steve felt like he was going to puke. He followed his dad down the hall, carefully sitting in the armchair across the desk.

Richard fell into the desk chair with a sigh. “You and him are seeing each other, correct?”

Cold sweat dripped down his spine. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yes.”

His dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why couldn’t it have been a good one like Tommy?”

Steve wasn’t normally this slow on the uptake, but it took a few moments for the dots to connect in his mind. “What?”

“You understand that you being with a man is going to make things harder for you, right?” He nodded. “And him having murder accusations worsens it.”

“Obviously false accusations.”

His dad smiled wryly. “Not the way a lot of people in town see it. And your mom went over those NDAs with a fine tooth comb. They’re watertight.”

“Hold on, are you mad that I’m in love with a guy, or are you mad that the guy is Eddie?”

“The latter, and I’m not mad, just disappointed.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “I’m not losing my only son because of who you fell in love with.” 

The confusion must have been apparent, because he continued. “Your mother and I love you, and nothing’s going to change that. We just want to make sure you’re safe and he’s treating you right.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, um, yeah. Sorry, this… this is not how I expected this to go.”

“You know how to be a gentleman, and you shouldn’t tolerate any less from him.”

“He’s been perfectly sweet. Why— Why are you not freaking out about this?”

Richard gave him a look. “Have you ever really thought about how we call Terry your uncle even though he’s just Mark’s roommate and we’re not really related?”

“Well, yeah, they’ve lived together for fifteen… Oh.” The final piece clicked into place.

“Yep. Kinda saw it coming, to be honest. You’re a bit vain for your own good.” He shrugged. “You boys are being safe, right?”

“Dad!”

“And not just with the sex stuff. You can handle yourselves in a fight?”

Steve, despite never having won any fight against a human person, nodded. 

“Good.” He stood and walked around the desk to wrap Steve in a brief hug. “You’re my son, and you’ll always be welcome here.” Just as briskly, he let go.

“Thanks,” Steve winced at the sound of his voice cracking.

Helen’s voice rang out warmly. “Good night, Eddie! Drive safe!”

He took that as his cue to step out. In the hall, he found Eddie, face pale and eyes wide as they flicked back and forth from his parents’ bedroom and the plate in his hands. 

Eddie turned to face him with a haunted look. “I’m scared of your mom.”

Richard clapped him on the back. “We all are, son. You boys don’t stay up too late.” With that he walked down the hall, shaking his head. Eddie was smarter than he looked. Maybe it’d be good for Steve to keep him around.

[charafansmile]

you gotta give me some of your sans backstory hcs now- 👀

This is so many days late (and my third time trying to answer this b4 tumblr kills me)

I don't think he's from deltarune- i do think he's from another universe- just not deltarune. At least i dont head canon him as being from deltarune- i wouldn't mind if he was but i think him bleeding is too neat to ignore and monsters in deltarune dont bleed. (I think it being ketchup is a copout...) he COULD be bleeding because of DT- and like the amglamates papyrus does say sans emits slime

But if that's the case why doesn't he melt like undyne does? And papyrus is also weird as hell! guy quotes Shakespeare when you kill him! And the flying and pinpointing us based on calls he can't see- it's just the two of them are too weird to be ut monsters or dr monsters in my eyes. Alphys has also studied alternate timelines so I really like the hc that she knows the skelebros were isekaid and was helping sans try to get home. (I flip flop on that one tho- mainly because I like her being mad he DIDINT tell her he was isekaid even more- alphys fucking up so bad she starts aggressively researching alternate universes so she can literally go somewhere where nobody knows her only for the fucking hot dog seller who brings her dog food to be from one...)

But onto actual backstory hcs that aren't me just rambling with no goal (this got way too long so the rest are under the read more </3):

I dont think they were raised by two loving parents- they give off kids who were raised by their grandparent (singular) vibe- and I like the idea that sans is at least 8-10 years older than papyrus. Maybe getting custody when he was 20~ and papyrus was 11~ ish. I kinda hate the sans neglected papyrus or was an alcoholic headcanons- I think he genuinely tried really hard with him and was decent enough role model (especially like the idea that papyrus got the whole "you can be a better person if you just try" mentality from sans while sans eventually dropped it)

Sans was in the middle of finishing his thesis when gaster accidentally nabs both sans & papyrus- and I dont think sans was as upset about this as first as he eventually gets. Mainly because of shock. And also he thought if gaster could bring them there- then he could also send them back. (And proving alternate universes exist by getting stuck in one is a way better thesis than what he was working on- Shame he never gets to go back sux to suck)

I don't think Sans let's himself get very close to people- he does really like being around them and while he's not happy underground I don't think hed be able to choose between whatever his home universe is and undertale if given the choice to go back home. Especially post pacifist. And he's certainly not considering it an option in any ending where papyrus is dead either. Actually, papyrus making friends (undyne) is part of why I think that. Sans really wants his brother to be happy, and while they both put on the facade of it to each other, they also can see through each other (to an extent). So sans thinks papyrus is happier in uts universe and eventually when he can't Crack getting back he gives up and decides to just go with the flow and put all of that energy back into figuring out the anomaly and making his brother happy.

I do subscribe to the idea that gaster was the last skeleton underground (mainly because skeletons are very typical rpg monsters and we don't see any goblins or orcs so I like the hc that most of them- along with a majority of humanoid monsters were wiped out in the war since they would have been the first line of defense and being so similar to humans physically led to alot of targeting) (genealogy wise I actually hc skeleton monsters to be closer related to rock monsters on the evolutionary side than ghost or elemental ones) but thats related to gaster and not sans & papyrus- for those two they had met plenty of skeleton monsters b4 gaster so are pretty perplexed by the whole last of his kind thing. And for gaster it's just kinda quiet awe at not being alone anymore. Bringing in two random skeletons from another universe was NOT his intention- them being isekaid was an accident from his first (failed) attempt at contacting 'us'. Cue gaster trying to (gently) pry information about the other skeleton monsters from sans & papyrus only to not get much info at all due to sans and papyrus not being raised around the rest of their family. He does get to hear about some skeleton celebrities papyrus kept up with...

NOT dadster btw- not a fan of dadster sorry 😭 think more weird old guy who's really sorry about fucking up their lives but also incredibly lonely and a little cooky in the head. The two didn't/couldn't use magic in their home universe so the reason their magic is so weird and out there is because gaster told them magic was real- gave a piss poor demonstration- and then the two just figured it out from there. Running on the cartoon logic that their magic works because they don't know it's not supposed to work that way. I'm sure sans is somewhat aware he breaking the rules but I do not think he cares.

Speaking of gaster being old- he's really stupid old- like gerson old (mhmm gerster...). Both skelebros are very surprised by this and sans just doesn't believe him at first. He's half convinced alphys is lying to him when she's dreamily talking about asgore and mentions off handedly that he's hundreds of years old. In tandem with alphys knowing Sans is from another universe I like to play with her figuring it out because Sans straight up doesn't know basic monster history or culture (her first theory was that he was just really sheltered but he makes way to many your mom jokes and is also way to aware of memes for her to think that for long. See Sans trying to show her a meme from his universe only for her to not laugh and be completely unaware of it. He dies a little inside...)

This one is very specific but Sans teleporting is vibes based. Like actually affected by the vibes of where hes going. He can't teleport out of the underground because the barrier was designed to keep monsters in- quid pro quo he can't get passed it. For a similar reason he can't teleport out of or into the ruins because of toriel. Locking doors or being mad at him makes it more difficult for sans to teleport to the room your in but if he really likes the place (or the place is populated/associated with people that like him) then he can easily teleport to it. (I hope this makes sense- I have another explanation that gets more technical but I need a diagram for that one)

Sans Will make shit up as he goes along- if he doesn't know something, he is just as likely to say some completely fabricated bullshit as he is to say he doesn't know. Bane of floweys existence...

He Once got paid 50 bucks by some human med school students to participate in their anatomy project- he was supposed to get another 50 after but got isekaid before he could do it. Was really disappointed about it- he had so many jokes planned, and he loves making people uncomfortable. I like to think he went to alot of parties like the extroverted weirdo he is. Despite not being able to open his mouth he 100% knows how to shotgun a beer. At one of these parties is where he was asked by the aforementioned med students- he thought it was hilarious and none of them were sober enough to think what they were asking him through. Cue him showing up the next day while they are hungover to bug them about it since it sounds fun.

Physics major. That's it. He also studied quantum theory and probably took a shit load of philosophy classes. Depending on how old papyrus is (I flip flop on how old I imagine him to be lol) then sans probably took papyrus with him to some of his classes (papyrus is all of sans teachers favorite, he ask questions, stays on task, joins in discussions- doesnt play snake on his computer like his brother does)

Projecting here but I think Sans would like the good place.. papyrus would to.. so personal hc they both watched the series together and papyrus did NOT cry like a little baby at the ending!!! (Psp psp psp watch the good place) we know he likes star wars (or is it star trek?? I'm trying to find the image of papyrus saying which one he likes but I can't find it 😭) so it's my belief sans has seen space balls- and forced papyrus to watch it with him too. Also probably really liked Adam Sandler movies and Monty Python, secretly I think he likes a good romcom. Papyrus I think Is more into romances and reality TV, and also the SAW franchise and Final Destination films specifically. Why? Idk 🤷 it just feels right to me. Litol baby 8 yo papyrus begging sans to take him to the release of the 2nd SAW film.... kids love deadly spikes 🤷.

The two are different flavors of autistic in the opposite directions- papyrus is very picky sans is the opposite of picky. He has and will in the future eat food that's dropped on the ground. Guy orders the worst burger on the menu and chugs straight ketchup. He is also capable of eating the almost edible spaghetti papyrus makes. Really his only competition for the trash eating championship is frisk. See also: sans is very monotone while papyrus gets loud and has volume issues. There's more than just those two but other people have gone more in depth in reasoning for making them autistic-

Okay last one and probably the most confusing one? The constellations of sans and papyrus's og universe are different from the ones they finally get to see at the end of post pacifist. Sans and papyrus lived in a big city so they only saw the real stars once (light pollution is a bitch) - the rest of the time being through books and textbooks. Sans had one of these textbooks on hand when they were isekaid and took the pages out to put up on his ceiling. He was a bit disappointed when they finally saw the stars on the surface and they weren't the ones he remembered.

Trans undertale ❤️

[blue-aconite]

between the wolves || prologue

Summary: Cassandra finds herself running from a life that seems planned out for her, the expectations of coming from a certain family and someone she maybe never choose for herself. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x OC x Bradley Bradshaw

Authors Note: Welcome back to a new, rewritten and improved prologue of this series! It's been on hiatus for a long time but we're back!

Thank you to my beta @a-reader-and-a-writer for looking this over for me and for letting me rant on and on about this! You're the best! Thank you to @hederasgarden for making me come back to this and for encouraging me! And a special shoutout to @anniesocsandgeneralstore for being the original inspiration for this fic!

Her mother had insisted on the party, citing that they simply had to celebrate this milestone in her life. ‘It’s important, dear’, she had said as if her mother hadn’t been the one to turn her nose up when Cassandra declared her intentions to study physical therapy instead of just lounging around at home, as her mother did.

In Mary’s mind, a girl like her needed no education. Her value was only equal to her appearance and she would be provided for, first by her father and then her future husband. But it had never been what Cassie wanted. 

Now however, her mother saw the opportunity to throw one of her extravagant parties, showing her and her family off. It was more about appearances than celebrating the end of her studies. She barely knew half of the people attending and Cassandra doubted they knew they were here for her either. 

They knew of her, of course. As the eldest child of a prominent family, growing up in New York’s high society, Cassandra knew her role well. She was the face of the family, the future. She was expected to follow in her mothers footsteps, marry someone suitable and spend the rest of her life among various charities and galas. She hated it. 

She watched as Sebastian and Timothy got dragged into another conversation with their fathers business partner, both of them nodding along. They both looked so grown up in their suits, tall and proud. 

“You look like someone ran over the family dog. This is your party, smile.” Sam handed her a fresh glass of champagne before taking a seat next to her. 

Cassie rolled her eyes. “You mean it’s my mother’s party. You know I just wanted a nice family dinner.”

Her boyfriend shrugged his shoulders. “I know but you have to admit, this is nice.” He gestured towards the garden filled with people.

Cassandra turned to get a good look at him. 

He was wearing an Armani suit, his family emblem embroidered into the pocket napkin and the Rolex watch she had gifted him for his twenty-fifth birthday was proudly on display. As he got older, the more he started to resemble his father but he still retained some of his boyish features. It was a good mix. He was handsome and he was hers.  

She and Sam had grown up together. He was the boy next door, their families had been friends for decades, their great great grandfathers even owning a business together. 

Cassandra knew she was supposed to be with Samuel before she even knew what it really meant. It was all their mothers had talked about while growing up, how they someday would make the perfect couple, joining their families together. 

They had talked about hers and Sam’s future before it had even begun, making suggestive comments over the years. And when Sam asked her to be his girlfriend in eighth grade, she had said yes.

Sam was, in many ways, her first everything. He was her best friend, her first love, her rock, her confidant. He knew her better than she knew herself. 

But their entire lives had been planned out for them. And now she wasn’t sure it was what she wanted. 

“If this is your idea of nice, I think you’re more like my mother than me.”  

Sam laughed. “One of us should be. You should be happy Mary is doing this for you.”

“She’s doing this for herself and you know it. It’s never about anyone else. Did you know that half of the people I’ve greeted today weren't even aware this is supposed to be a graduation party?” Cassandra mumbled, putting aside her now empty champagne flute. 

Sam intertwined their fingers, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “I’m sorry, baby. I know this isn’t what you wanted. But I think there’s still time to turn things around.”

“How?”

He smiled, kissing her knuckles. “You’ll see.”

Cassandra tried to ignore the growing pit in her stomach, smiling widely as to hide the panic taking over her features. 

“Sounds great.” She managed to squeeze out, letting go of Sam’s hand. “I need to speak to Dad, will you get me another drink?”

The moment he turned around, Cassie fled the garden. She pushed her way past people into the house, scanning the crowd for her parents.

Neither were anywhere to be found and with some many people around, no one noticed her slipping away. 

Cassandra didn’t stop until she reached an empty room, locking the doors behind her, sliding onto the floor. Her mother would scold her for ruffling the custom-made Prada but she couldn’t care less.

She knew what Sam meant when he told her things would turn around and it terrified her. 

All Cassie could think about was the ring she had found in the wardrobe a couple of weeks ago. She hadn’t meant to look but the familiar jewellery caught her eye.

There it had been, a stunning diamond ring she knew all too well. She had seen the ring before, on his grandmother’s hand. It was a family heirloom, meant for one thing. Marriage. 

Sam proposing wasn’t a surprise though. It would happen sooner rather than later.

But the thought itself twisted her stomach further and she gasped for air, fighting back the tears. 

There had been a point in her life where she wanted nothing else. That a future with Sam was the only option. He had been all she ever wanted. 

But now, thinking about spending the rest of her life with him made her stomach turn. She could see it all so clearly, the life that they were supposed to have. It was there, all within her grasp, all planned out for them. And Cassandra didn’t want it. 

She had loved Sam for so long that she wasn’t sure who she’d be without him. She still loved him. But she wasn’t in love with him anymore and she hadn’t been for a while now. 

It was easier to admit to herself now than it had been when Cassie first started to realise that she was falling out of love with him. Only then had she realised how much of their lives had already been planned, how much of their relationship was built on their parent’s expectations.

The ring only solidified what Cassandra had known for months. This wasn’t what she wanted.

“Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 75B to Anchorage, Alaska. We are now inviting those in first class and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately fifteen minutes. Thank you.”

Shouldering her bag, Cassie let an elderly couple pass by her before taking her place in the queue. There was no rush. 

She might have been at one of the busiest airports in New York, but Cassie felt strangely calm. More than she had in months. It only served to prove that leaving was the right thing to do. Her only regret was leaving without telling her dad or brothers but she couldn’t risk them slipping up and telling her mother or Sam. 

Her phone vibrated with an incoming call again and she let it go to voicemail. There were several missed calls, unread messages and voicemails. Her father’s contact stared back at her, the most recent missed call along with a text message.

Just tell me you’re safe.

The queue had yet to move so she pulled up their chat, where there was another 4 unread messages waiting for her. 

Cassandra, where are you?

Call me back. Arthur said he dropped you off at LGA. What’s going on?

Your mother is very upset. Please call us back.

Sweetheart, I just need to know that you’re okay.

Cassandra couldn’t call him back, not now. But he deserved to know she was okay. 

I’m ok. I’ll let you know when I land. Please don’t tell mother. I love you.

She put the phone on aeroplane mode after that, effectively blocking any more incoming messages or calls. The queue was moving now and she handed the flight attendant her passport and ticket, thanking them before following the stream of people. 

Finding her seat, she declined the drink offered by the stewardess with a polite smile. Maybe later. Right now, all she wanted to do was sleep. 

Boarding seemed to be over pretty quickly and when the rumble of the engines grew louder as they made it to the taxiway, Cassie leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. 

She could worry about everything later. 

Ted Stevens Airport was just as busy as LaGuardia when Cassie departed her plane. She trudged along with the rest of the passengers towards baggage claim. 

The conveyor belt was already moving when she got there and luckily enough, her bag was already on the belt. She made for the exit after collecting her belongings, looking for a taxi.

Pulling out her phone, she turned off the aeroplane mode and once again her screen was filled with more calls and messages. She ignored them all, pulling up the hotel information. She was grateful for airplane wi-fi, allowing her to book a hotel during the long flight. 

Hailing down a cab, she gave them the name of the hotel and fifteen minutes later the bellhop was carrying her bags into the lobby while she checked into the room she booked. 

Thanking the bellhop, she locked the door behind her and fought the urge to just collapse onto the bed and sleep. Cassie forced herself to take a shower, washing off the entire flight of her body and brushing her teeth before crawling under the covers. 

She plugged in her charger and set an alarm, not wanting to sleep away the next day. Remembering her promise to her dad, Cassie pulled up his contact information, hovering over the call button. She wanted to hear his voice but she didn’t want to alert her mother to her whereabouts either.

Flight went ok, and I made it to the hotel safely. I’m in Anchorage. Please don’t tell mother where I am, or Sam. 

I’m so sorry I left without saying anything to you. I just didn’t want you to stop me. I don’t know how to explain but I need some space to think about what I really want. I knew Sam was planning to propose at the party and I realised it’s not what I want, not anymore. I don’t even know if it's what I’ve ever wanted or what mother has expected of me.

Please, don’t ask me to come home. I need to do this for myself. I’m not asking you to understand, I’m just asking you to let me make my own decisions. Tell Sebastian and Timothy that I’ll miss them. I love you.

She typed out the long message, hitting send before placing the phone screen down to give her some resemblance of peace as she waited for her father to answer. Even with the five-hour time difference, she was sure he would.

In the comfort of a warm bed and surrounded by nothing but darkness, Cassandra let herself feel for the first time since she left. All the emotions she shoved aside earlier to make it easier to leave bubbled up to the surface and Cassie choked back a sob threatening to leave her lips.

It was a strange moment because she felt nothing but relief over her decisions. But she was also scared. She had never been on her own, not like this.

A quiet chime from her phone alerted her to a new message and she breathed a sigh of relief when it’s from her father and not someone else.

I wish you would have told me, I would not have stopped you. I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t come to me with this. But I am proud of you for making this decision. Whatever you want, I’ll support you. 

I won’t tell Mary or Sam but I urge you to at least let them know you’re okay. I’ll tell them I’ve spoken with you, as they are worried. 

I won’t ask you to come home but please keep me updated. Your account is there for whatever you need, I’ll make sure that Mary won’t interfere with it. If you need anything, let me know. 

Sweetheart, I love you. Stay safe. 

Cassie let the tears flow as she reads her dad’s message. She didn’t realise how much she needed his assurance and acceptance. If her dad supported her, she could do this. She could be strong, if he believed in her. 

Deciding to keep all decisions until tomorrow, Cassandra put the phone on ‘do not disturb’ before making herself comfortable in the king-sized bed. 

Right now, she felt better than she had in months. That was all that mattered. The rest could wait.

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@keyrani @silentlysurffering98 let me know if you want to be added/removed

[c0la-queen]

Heya, I just sort of stumbled across your blog and I’m genuinely so impressed by how good your writing is! I ended up binge reading a bunch of your works lol. I was wondering if I could request something for Eddsworld? Honestly, your last Tord piece has been stuck in my mind so I was thinking of a situation where the reader is either uncomfortable because of some other guy or even something more dangerous like being followed and Tord ends up being involved. I know it’s really cliche but I’m interested in how he would handle it and what he would prioritise first. Obviously, I know you’re gonna be busy for a while so don’t feel pressured to get this done soon or at all if you don’t feel up to it. Hope you have a wonderful day/night ❤️

HIII OMG reading this made me so giddy!! I had free time this weekend and your request got my neurons firing so I HAD to write a piece for this right away!!! Thank you so much for your sweet words, and I hope you enjoy it! Mwah mwah!

Scary Dog Privilege | Tord x Reader

Warnings: Creepy incel guy, heavy misogyny, homophobia if you squint, I cringed writing this guy, Tord makes a threat

Words: ~1.9k

----

The windows were down on Tord's car, letting the breeze in. It whipped your hair around, sometimes blowing a few strands into your face. It only made you giggle. A huff to your right drew your attention to the driver's side. Tord had one hand on the wheel, his other arm rested on the windowsill. His vape was in his hand.

"What are you laughing about over there?"

He blew a cloud out of the window before answering you.

"You're being silly. It's cute."

You settled back in your seat as you came to a stop at a red light. Without the rumble of the engine, the music playing from the speaker floated out into the town around you. You glanced at the display screen on the radio. fuK u lol by CORPSE. Your head bobbed as you took in the sights of the town. There was an older couple in the lane beside you. The woman seemed to be eyeing you suspiciously. It didn't bother you, though. You looked down, smoothing down the fabric of your outfit. White skirt, black tights, strawberry cardigan, and pink converse. Heart shaped earrings danged from your ears, and a matching heart shaped purse was at your feet. You felt cute and happy. Tord had, at least, put on a different outfit for your date, rather than wearing his usual red hoodie combo. It was still red themed, but you didn't expect any less. If your boys were anything, they were consistent.

You and Tord had always been opposites in most things. He was all doom and gloom, ice cold glares, vapes and cigarettes, black clothes and heavy rock music. He was blunt, he seemed apathetic, and often was rude. You were energetic and sweet. You loved bright colors and cutesy things. Cake and frappes with lots of whipped cream. You loved to share compliments with others, had a big heart, and cared deeply for others. That's not to say that you and Tord were incompatible - your relationship had been going strong for a couple of years now. Your opposite traits seemed to balance each other out. When you got too overwhelmed or worked up, he was there to douse you with a healthy round of realism, grounding you back to the present and calming you down. You were there when he started to feel like he wasn't himself, when he started to slip back into the person he was forced to be in the cold winters of Norway, you reminded him of the warmth of home.

And, over time, you developed similarities. Before you met him, you had dipped your toes into anime, but he let you watch them with him and soon it became a tradition of yours to binge-watch shows together. Tord had stopped drawing since high school, but watching you mindlessly doodle on blank paper while he tinkered away at his work desk reminded him of the joy it had brought him as a teen - so he started again. Plus, he had a brand new muse this time. Or if there was things that one of you enjoyed doing that wasn't quite the other's thing, that was okay too. Tord would sit at the kitchen table while you baked, scrolling away on his phone and occasionally showing you Tik Toks that you'd like. You would sit on his lap while he played PC games, either playing calmer games on your Switch or watching his gameplay until you fell asleep.

It looked strange to others, but for you and Tord, it worked.

You zoned back in as the car pulled into a parking space. Tord turned to you as he parked.

"Where'd you go, hm?"

"Nowhere. Just thinking of you."

Tord gave you a scrutinizing look, attempting to see if you were lying to him or not. (He always said you had a knack for downplaying your feelings. You insisted you had no idea what he was talking about.) Seemingly satisfied with what he found, he hummed and shut off the engine. You climbed out of the car, stretching out your legs.

The manga store that you and Tord liked to frequent was only a 20 minute ride into town from your neighborhood. It wasn't a little hole-in-the-wall, five sets of aisles in a tiny room type of place. This store was actually fairly popular, seeing an average flow of customers throughout the day. It helped that the owners had implemented a café area, where you could order anime character themed drinks.

The girl working the café counter waved at the two of you as you walked in. You smiled and waved as you walked over. She was familiar with you, since she worked on a lot of the days that you came in. You and her got along really well.

"Hi, Ruby! You dyed your hair a new color! The lavender looks really good on you."

"Thank you! I did love the red, but it was starting to get a little boring for me. Thought I'd spice it up."

She set down the equipment she was cleaning and walked over to the register.

"You guys gonna have your usual or do you wanna try something new?"

Tord was likely going to just have his usual drink, but you decided to give a new drink a chance. You looked up at Tord.

"I wanna try the Squirtle Sour Candy Boba."

He nodded, then ushered you off to the aisles. That's how things usually went during your outings here. He'd order your drinks while you went wandering off into the aisles, and he'd find you after the drinks were ready. It had taken a bit of argument between the two of you for you to give up trying to pay for your own drinks - he was just as stubborn as you were sometimes. You came to a compromise, though, when he let you buy your own manga and merch.

As usual, your first pit stop was to the romance manga. There weren't too many other customers - an older alt couple looking at the Jojo manga, a teenage boy at the BL section, and a small group of teenage girls giggling softly in the isekai aisle. You hummed softly as you looked over the covers, seeing if anything new caught your eye. You stopped once you reached the section you were looking for. Komi Can't Communicate.

You crouched down so you were level with the more recent volumes. Most of the time, you bought three volumes at a time. You huffed softly when you realized that this time, they were missing one of the ones you needed. Volumes 12, 13, and 15 were there - but no volume 14. With an exasperated sigh, you reached out and picked up volume 12, only to nearly drop it when a voice startled you.

"You know, there are more tasteful series that you'd probably enjoy more than that one."

You looked to your right. Someone had walked into the aisle with you when you weren't paying attention. It was a man, looking to be in around his 30s or so. You could feel yourself fight back a physical reaction to his appearance, and not in a good way. He had on what you could recognize as a Deadpool shirt on underneath a black zip-up hoodie that looked like it hadn't been washed in far too long. The ensemble was topped off perfectly with a leather necklace cord and a metal pendant that you would've guessed was a Naruto symbol of some kind (admittedly, you had never watched Naruto, and Tord mentioned that it wasn't really worth it in his opinion.)

Alarm bells were going off in your head at the sight of him.

"Oh. Is that so?"

As you stood up straight, you gave him a smile that you hoped wasn't too obviously forced. If he noticed, he didn't care.

"Since you're here by yourself, clearly you're a female of sense. You should start off with Dragon Ball. It is the very zenith of anime culture, and anyone who hasn't experienced it doesn't deserve to call themselves an anime fan."

Your alarm bells got louder.

"Actually, um, I know what Dragon Ball is. I've watched it since I was little - my older sibling showed it to me."

You hated the way an excited glint flashed across the man's eyes. He stepped a little closer to you.

"It seems I was right about you. You do have taste. It's not every day I meet a female who is familiar with real anime. Usually its only females who have been brainwashed by social media to think that they're bisexual, who come in here to read trash like Haikyu."

He stepped closer again. You tried to subtly shift backwards.

"Shows like that shouldn't even be categorized as anime. Its all woke propaganda that makes females change their dating standards for submissive men. But I can tell that you're different. You-"

"There you are."

Something solid and warm pressed against your back. You felt yourself immediately relax in Tord's presence. Turning to him, you gratefully took your drink from his hand.

His eyes weren't on you.

Tord was staring down the man in front of you, eyes the color of cold steel. He was easily taller than the other man, and definitely stronger. The man seemed to cower slightly.

"I was, uh, just talking to the lovely girl here-"

Tord cut him off by saying your name. Only when you tilted your head back to him did he finally glance at you.

"Get your other two volumes."

He didn't need to tell you twice. Ignoring the now blubbering man, who was once again the focus of Tord's piercing gaze, you dipped down and grabbed volumes 13 and 15. You could look for 14 some other time.

"Go to the plushie aisle. I'll meet you there."

You only spared one last glance at the man before slipping past Tord, heading around to the aisle filled with plushies and other merch. You couldn't see or hear Tord and the man, and you weren't sure you wanted to.

Standing in front of the bin of plushies, you slid your phone out of your purse and pulled up your private messages with Edd. You typed out a quick message to him.

'Tord might beat a guy to death.'

Edd, who was working on some commissions today, replied fast.

'Nothing new. What was it this time?'

'Creepy guy wouldn't leave me alone. Gave off incel vibes.'

'Yikes. I'm on Tord's side. Hope he kicks the guy's ass.'

Before you could continue the chat, you felt arms wrap around your waist. Tord rested his chin against your shoulder.

"You shouldn't tattle on me to Edd."

"Edd doesn't care, as long as you don't get yourself hurt. What did you do to the dude?"

Tord huffed. He was grumpy.

"Told him that if he was ever a creep to you again, I'd saw his balls off with a rusty scalpel and shove them down his throat. It was effective. He ran away, like a little bitch."

Despite it all, you couldn't help but giggle. You turned, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"My hero. Let's go look at the Jujutsu Kaisen section."

[cedarwoodtears]

Absolutely adore your outdoorsy alt Sam hc and need more info ASAP xoxoxo

YESSS rubs hands together evilly of course…sam my beloved wife (im gay but she’s still my wife fr guys)

• she wants a FUCK ton of piercings. right now she has an 8g septum, double tongue piercings, and one on her left eyebrow but sam thinks piercings look so fucking cool and want more…financing isn’t a problem it’s just a matter of exactly WHERE she wants it. sam has also thought of some other body mods, mostly a forked tongue though (sam and me are TWINSIES i want so many piercings pls)

• sam also used to really want to dye her hair black to fit in more but she looks just as good blonde…red too i feel like that’d be a great color on her. tbh she just looks good in everything im sure sam could pull off the most horrendous bowl cut. but i can totally see her with a shag mullet if her hair was just a TEENSY bit longer. but she also fucking ROCKS her buns and is usually a bit too lazy in the mornings to spend a lot of time on her hair teehee

• i feel like she dresses casual a lot of the time. besides when she’s going outside in nature, she needs to be properly outfitted but just around town…baggy jeans w/ a black belt, band t-shirt and some black converse. nothing too complex but she pulls it off so WELL it’s her face card..never declines‼️she does a bit of heavy eyeliner and eyeshadow but on most days that’s it!!

• music is her soul you will RARELY catch her without any earphones. they’re either in her pocket or in her tote bag she likes bringing around…and a lot of the time it’s full blast too LMAO she knows it’s not the best for her ears but it’s so good she can’t stop…some of her favorite genres are industrial & thrash metal but she also loves house and ambient techno!!!!! once in awhile midwest emo too…

• she is a SUCKER for hiking. sam will go on more hikes in a year than i’ve gone in my entire life ahem…she’s a part of a hiking group in her community that’s mostly older people but sam managed to convince ashley and josh to join as well..they’re all very kind and supportive but yknow you wanna bring your friends whenever you can hehe!!! they’re athletic but not nearly as much as sam and tend to fall behind a bit..its okay because the rest of the group will take a short break if they’re taking a little bit

• sam has pretty much always been an advocate for the environment and animals for all her life but overall her leftist beliefs have REALLY been strengthened over the years from hanging out with her punk friends. her parents didn’t really approve of her hanging out with them because, “they’re bad influences” and “scoundrels” but sam didn’t listen. they were some of the people who understood her the best and that she could feel most comfortable around, instead of most kids at her school who were pretty conservative in their values and ideals…she’d get picked on for befriending them and dressing alternative but she did not CARE!!!

• she has a cat and a dog that she absolutely ADORESSSS, their names are kiko and dirk respectively. kiko is a sphinx cat (sam calls him her “bald chicken” all the time…sam stop BULLYING YOUR ANKMALS!!!! BE NICE!!!! /s) and dirk is a bernese mountain dog hehe…she LOVES bringing dirk with her outside. kiko does go outside too but sam is very cautious with him because she’s heard of a few coyote incidents…she always watches kiko when he goes out in the backyard.

[freak-attorney]

Random Ace Attorney headcanons!!! :D

Feel free to leave ur own in the notes or if u agree/disagree!!

(Also please keep in mind that I'm basing these off of the first trilogy since that it all I've played so far!)

Feel free to ask/request any other specific headcanons from me :D

Phoenix Wright

Barely passed the LSAT

Used to have panic attacks in court (is now in therapy)

Always has a hair tie for Maya

Has learned how to do Pearl's hair for her

Filipino/American

Chronically online

Finds millennial humor funny

ADHD undiagnosed

Bisexual

His hair ALWAYS has traces of gel in it

He's a dog person but loves cats

His suit is always a bit wrinkled

Survives on red bull and microwave dinners

*finger guns*

Love language is physical touch and acts of service

Falls asleep at his desk every night during a case

Needs 5+ alarms to wake up in the morning

Uses concealer to hide his eye bags

Doesn't floss

Sleeps like a starfish

Has sweat stains on several shirts

Naturally wavy hair but he straightens it

Miles Edgeworth

Always hours early to a case because he's very anxious about being late

Sometimes wishes he had a different career (outside of law) but never even considered it an option until recently

Very argumentative over silly things, eventually apologizes with a small gift or note

Love language is gift giving

Enjoys parallel play.. like he enjoys just having someone in his office while he's working even though he doesn't acknowledge them

Has good stamina from always using stairs over elevators

Can cook very well, enjoys cooking for others

Autistic (late diagnosed)

Has a collection of fidget toys that only a few people know about

Chronically OFFline

Enjoys animal crossing and other peaceful games

Has excellent hygiene

Started dying his hair grey as soon as he found one strand of grey hair

Makes a photo album for Franziska for her birthday each year

Has a blanket that he's slept with for 10+ years

Keeps every trinket that Pearl or Maya might give him

Has fresh clothes and toiletries at the office in case he sleeps there

Prefers gold over silver

Is a cat person but is okay with dogs (he thinks dogs are messy)

Has an ironing board in the wall of his office

Probably gay or somewhere on the aroace spectrum

Wears a full face of makeup to court (gatekeeps his sweat proof foundation)

Sleeps curled up in one corner of his bed

Maya Fey

Loves to do cartwheels (can't actually do a proper cartwheel)

Tries learning Japanese on DuoLingo (can't keep more than a 5 day streak)

Taught Pearl basically everything she knows

Love language is quality time

Is very good at rhythm games

Has "childish" interests like Sailor Moon, Hello Kitty, My Little Pony, etc.

Enjoys older arcade games like Galaga, Frogger, and Mappy

Wanted to be a veterinarian at some point but is a bit too squeamish for that

Is ALWAYS late even if she plans to be early

Sleeps with a night light

Has a collection of rocks that Pearl gave her growing up

Loves abstract art

Hugs very tightly

Since Mia's death her last words to anyone close to her when they separate for any amount of time is "I love you" just in case

Is naturally unorganized but started keeping a planner when she started working with Phoenix... she sometimes forgets the planner exists but she TRIES okay??

Dick Gumshoe

Love language is gift giving and acts of service for SURE

Would gladly give someone his umbrella in the rain knowing he'd get soaked

Doesn't know how to cook because he doesn't have the resources but he'd like to learn

Forgot to put water in his ramen once and almost burned his apartment down

Doesn't always shower because his water gets cut off

Smells pretty rank but Edgeworth gifts him nice body sprays sometimes

Always makes sure Edgeworth is up at a reasonable time for a case/trial even though he really doesn't need to

Always chewing gum

Dream car is a Jeep Wrangler

Demiromantic

Memorizes little details about people to give them good birthday/holiday gifts

Gets very excited about fortune cookies

Loves buffets

Gives the BEST hugs

Is scared of thunderstorms and terrified of hurricanes

Really appreciates small gifts like keychains or trinkets

Lets Maya and Pearl paint his nails

Has really large and calloused hands

Sleeps all snuggled up hugging a pillow

Used to collect magnifying glasses

Bites on his pencils/pens

Franziska Von Karma

Sapphic.

She wears press ons

Stalks the social media accounts of her clients

Sleeps in a grandma nightgown

Has two planners: one physical and one on her phone

Really wants a pet rabbit

Has so many decorative pillows on her bed and arranges them every morning

Hits people next to her when she laughs

Quietly gives gifts for holidays/birthdays without making it a big deal

Casually gives super expensive gifts

Plays Genshin

Forces Edgeworth to watch reality TV with her (Say Yes to the Dress, My Strange Addiction, ANTM, Jersey Shore)

Really likes horror movies but can't handle too much gore

Classically trained in ballet

Enjoys photography

Watches the Kentucky Derby every year

Basically raised Miles when Manfred didn't

Knows how to sew but doesn't have the time

Collects Monster High dolls

Likes dogs but LOVES cats

Finds dumb people really attractive

Needs complete silence when doing paperwork or she can't concentrate

Autistic (undiagnosed)

Doesn't plan on ever getting married

Probably one of the only characters that gets proper sleep

Prefers pleated skirts over pencil but wears them in court to look professional

Hates the texture of chiffon fabric

Always wearing a different pair of earrings

Has a couple small tattoos but covers them well

Has the sharpest eyeliner known to man

Fluent in a few languages including Mandarin Chinese, French, and Italian

That's all for now!!

[seastarblue]

happy sts!

yap to me about your favourite OC >:)

happy sts!

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oh boy u have no idea what you’ve signed up for >:)

big block o text be upon ye ( about 20 lines yeesh)

she’s a fighter. she’s a good friend. a foodie in the highest form. a strategist. a liar. a trickster with a sage’s temprament. she’s a loser. a wet cat. a former whumpee (i think that’s the first time i’ve used that term here wow). a current whumpee. she’s a knight. she’s a little guy. she’s got the ability to fight a whole army. she can’t do public speaking. she will set your kitchen on fire. she might keel over any day now. give her a hug and she will sob. she’s steady as a rock. she’s fragile as a flower. she is a certified idiot. she’s bisexual. she’s aromantic. she’s 9 years older than me but i still think she’s my daughter. she’s a high school dropout (by force). she’s a former soldier. she’s a silly goofy gal. she hasn’t smiled in a year. she will never betray those she loves. she’s got a god complex. she’s got self esteem issues. she sometimes does lil dances in the rain. she’s died at least 5 times. she loves her dog goose. she’s lonely. she’s alone. she likes tea, both herbal and verbal. she cries when she sees dead animals. she has a kill count of exactly 31.

she’s my main character and her name is kaiden evania :3

link goes to her profile btw

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thanks for the ask, @bamber344 !