#there were two asks like this. and then i got four more in like two days

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal 4

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, prisoner!Sukuna, modern au, no curse au, dead dove, vivid descriptions of violence including murder and sexual assault, dark romance trope, angst, read at your own discretion

Synopsis: Sukuna is in prison because of you. He's ordered to undergo weekly counseling sessions. Talking to his counselor about you, it's apparent that his obsession with you is quite concerning.

An: Reminder, this story is dark. Take care of your mental health first. Sexual assault will be briefly mentioned, but it will not be written about in detail. Sukuna is diagnosed with borderline personality disorder at the end of this session. I want to make it clear that it is not my intention to offend anyone with this diagnosis or demonize this diagnosis. It is used to make him feel more real, and it furthers the plot. Hope you guys enjoy… only one last part after this one <3.

Session one. | Session two. | Session three. | Session four.

The counselor hadn't had time to do any more digging into Sukuna's case files this week. It was the end of the year — holidays were coming up, and that meant that annual paperwork on all of his patients were due.

His caseload was becoming too much to manage all on his own. He was thankful that the jail was finally consulting him about hiring a social worker to help out with the workload.

Checking Sukuna's chart briefly, the counselor inhaled sharply. It was finally time to talk about the crime that landed him in prison. Sure, the counselor could drag this out. He could talk about every petty theft or assault case Sukuna had been charged with, but those were pointless to talk about in the grand scheme of things.

As if on cue, a large buzzer sounded, and Sukuna was shoved into the room with the counselor before promptly being locked inside. He was shackled as always, but his demeanor was different today.

He didn't have that calloused grin or careless attitude. He sat down on the couch with a small grunt before immediately laying his head back against the piece of furniture. His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly.

It was as if Sukuna knew what the counselor was going to bring up today.

"How are you holding up this week, Sukuna?" The counselor asked. Normally, they'd skip pleasantries, but the counselor sensed that Sukuna needed some priming before he got to talking.

"How am I holding up?" Sukuna echoed with a humorless laugh before shaking his head. "Don't ask stupid fucking questions. This is a prison not a 10 hour shift at a fucking factory."

Well, so much for priming.

"You don't want to talk about her today?" The counselor asked, tapping his pen against his paper. "Or is there something you're not wanting to relive."

"I can talk about her until my lungs give out." Sukuna muttered in a pained tone. He rubbed his face with his hands, cuffs clinking around in the process. He groaned as he put his hands down. "Tell me what you think I don't want to relive." He finally demanded, turning the tables on the counselor.

The counselor widened his eyes as he was put on the spot. He immediately avoided Sukuna's lifeless glare. He was definitely testing him right now — seeing if he kept up on his homework.

"You're not afraid of reliving your own pain. You don't want to relive mouse's pain." The counselor finally muttered out, using his knowledge of Sukuna to help guide him through his analysis.

Sukuna grunted in response, and the counselor took it as approval to keep going. "You weren't there to protect her. You feel like it's a failure on your end that what happened to her happened."

Sukuna's fists clenched, and his jaw tightened, but this didn't feel like his typical anger. It wasn't directed at anyone else besides himself.

"You got there a little too late. You saw what was happening to her, and you went into a blind rage. Your normal brutal, methodical, unique style to killing your victims went out the window. He needed to die right then, didn't he?" The counselor pressed on. He kept his hands on his lap to defend himself in case he said anything that teetered the line. Though, there really was no defending himself against Sukuna's hulking figure.

"He didn't deserve to live." Sukuna's voice was a low growl. His heart was pounding against his ribcage as he was reminded of his last moments with you before he incarceration.

The prisoner suddenly reached out, and the counselor flinched far back into his seat upon reflex, but Sukuna was faster. He grabbed the counselor by his dress shirt, and he patted around on his body. "I know you record these sessions, doc. I want this next part to be off the record." He demanded as he continually searched for a recording device.

The counselor tried fighting him off, but Sukuna was still stronger while he was handcuffed. "Fine-! Here! All you had to do was ask for this part to be off the record." The counselor shouted before he threw his pen over to Sukuna.

His pen had a secret recording device hidden inside, and it was promptly cut off when Sukuna snapped the pen in half without a second thought. He then threw it at the wall, ensuring that nothing would be listening in on what he was about to say.

Sitting back in his seat, he let out another stressed sigh. His twin brother's murder was a well kept secret thanks to his skills of covering up evidence, but this was his best kept secret. It physically pained him to say the words out loud.

"Mouse wanted a normal... domestic life, and I wanted to give her whatever she asked for. I started an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop, and I worked at a bike shop on the side so she could focus on figuring out what she wanted to do with life." He started off slowly. The counselor was still rattled from their physical altercation, but he was already enthralled by Sukuna's story telling abilities.

"I didn't care what I did as long as I got to be in her life. Coming home after sixteen hour shifts felt like paradise when I got to slide into bed next to her. She was the only piece of heaven that I'll ever see." Sukuna went on. His eyes were aimed at the broken pen in the corner, fully reliving what it was like to just be yours.

"Your tattoos... those came from your apprenticeship?" The counselor asked, finally taking the time to ask about the markings that covered Sukuna's body and face.

The prisoner looked at his arms and shook his head. "No, these came from over the years." He said as he slowly rose from the chair. He unbuttoned the jumpsuit and shoved it down around his waist to reveal a white undershirt that covered his broad, muscular torso.

Sukuna clearly had nothing else better to do other than work out while he was incarcerated.

The marking covered his neck, shoulders, arms, back, and chest. The counselor marveled at them for a minute, wondering how long Sukuna had to sit in a chair for all of them to be completed.

"As a gift for finishing my apprenticeship, Mouse and I got tattoos together." Sukuna explained before he raised his undershirt up. Right there on his right ribcage — a detailed portrait style tattoo of just your eyes stared back at the counselor.

Your eyes alone could tell a million words. They were gates directly to your soul. The counselor didn't know what you looked like. Your face had been scrubbed from every news outlet that reported on Sukuna's case, and the counselor couldn't remember if he saw your face in court or not.

"Does she have your eyes tattooed as well?" The counselor asked. It was the safer option because he was sure that Sukuna would probably kill him if he complimented your eyes.

"She had this-" he gestured to the tattoo that was placed on his forehead directly between his eyes, "tattooed on her back, and I tattooed my name across her ribcage in the same place I have her eyes tattooed." Sukuna explained before he redressed himself and sat back down.

"She also has a tiny mouse tattooed behind her ear. All of her work is done by me." He explained.

"Wait- You didn't come up with mouse on the spot?" The counselor asked. "That nickname actually has any meaning?"

Sukuna snickered from the counselor's assumptions. "Nah. When we were little and she wasn't talking to me yet, I use to tease her and say she was as quiet as a church mouse."

The counselor gave a small laugh, and he allowed for the silence to fill the room once more, signaling that Sukuna should get back on topic.

"I was working late most nights, and I told her it'd be worth it once I started making some real money. I just wanted to give her the life she never had. I could've provided her with peace." Sukuna explained, his eyes going back dull as all the fun was sucked right back out of the conversation.

"One night, she wanted to surprise me with my favorite dinner. I always told her not to go out alone at night. She usually waited for me to get off work if she needed to go to the store, but I guess she was worried about burdening me... foolish girl." He muttered as he stared down at his palms.

The counselor swallowed harshly, knowing what was coming next. He normally wasn't so emotionally invested in his client's lives, but Sukuna had a way of drawing him in. He was rooting for you even if he knew the result of what happened that night.

"She wasn't stupid though. Mouse was resourceful. She had a heart of gold, but she wasn't naive. She took one of my blade's with her, and she concealed it in her purse." Sukuna explained as his hands picked at the unhealed scabs on his knuckles once again.

"You don't have to go into detail. I'm honestly not sure if I could stomach that-" The counselor admitted. He knew it was unprofessional. He was supposed to be able to shoulder his clients' trauma, but he just didn't know if he could live with Sukuna's version of what happened to you.

"On her way home, that fucking... coward grabbed her. I don't- I don't know how far he got. She wouldn't tell me. I don't know if it was more for my sake or for hers." A shaky breath left his lips. He was grinding his teeth so hard that the counselor was even cringing.

"She managed to send me her location, and I immediately knew something was wrong. I just left the shop — didn't bother locking up or even telling my client where I was going. By the time I got there, my little mouse's clothes were ripped. She was a mess. He was laid out on the ground. The motherfucker died from a few stab wounds, how fucking pathetic."

"What." The counselor said as his jaw dropped. All this time, he was told that Sukuna was only caught because he killed your assailant in a crime of passion, but that wasn't the truth. He had never been baffled like this for his entire career.

"Mouse isn't some defenseless damsel in distress. You think I'd let her walk around if I hadn't taught her self defense?" Sukuna asked as he looked up at the counselor. His jaw was tight and his gaze was narrow. "I'd be damned if I let her walk around without anyway to defend herself after the shit that went down with her dad and his temper."

The counselor stayed silent. Everything he had thought about Sukuna's final murder had been a lie. He didn't kill the poor bastard out of a crime of passion. You had killed your attacker, and Sukuna took the fall for it.

Everything he had done thus far was to protect you — all of it. It was all for you.

"How did any of this end up pinned on you?" The counselor carefully asked while he was still trying to wrack his brain. A part of him wondered if Sukuna was lying, but there was no way Sukuna would lie and risk you getting into trouble for a crime that he committed.

"I have been involved in the justice system for so long. I know how crooked everything is. The district attorneys and judges aren't trying cases fairly and protecting the balance of the justice system. They're doing whatever they can to appease the politicians who have them in their back pockets. They'll sentence a serial rapist to 25 years in jail, but they'll sentence a woman defending herself from a rapist to life in jail. There's no justice in this system."

"I wasn't going to let that shit happen to mouse. I wasn't going to let her name be ruined because she defended herself and did what she had to do. I wasn't going to let her trauma be drug through court. She has so much ahead of her, and I-" Sukuna paused to take a ragged breath. It had been a long time since he had spewed out words so fast.

This was the first time he had ever been able to talk about this to anyone. Everyone fully believes that Sukuna happened to catch the guy assaulting you, and he killed him right then and there. No one knew that he hadn't been there to protect you. You had to resort to protecting yourself, and he fucking loathed the thought of you having to bear the weight of that sick son of a bitch's death on your shoulders.

For two years, he carried this weight around. It had been two years since he was sentenced. Two years since he last saw you.

He let a tear slip past his cheek. Just one -- he didn't bother to wipe it away. It was gone as soon as it had appeared.

"Take your time." The counselor murmured empathetically. This was a major break through with Sukuna. It was something that proved he wasn't a sociopath.

Sukuna could feel emotions. Perhaps, he felt them more than everyone else did. His anger was immediately rage. He was never just sad. Instead, he'd plummet into an unbeatable depression. His happiness felt like pure euphoria, and when he loved, he loved unconditionally hard.

He used you as an anchor for his tidal waves of emotions, basing them on how you acted — the girl who didn't speak and wore a mask around other people. You two were truly made for each other.

If soulmates existed, you two would be the leading example.

Sukuna took another ragged breath, taking just another second to collect his thoughts. "She has so much ahead of her, and I only had her." He managed to grit out.

"Before she could even think about trying to stop me, I ripped the gloves off that I had been using to tattoo my client. I grabbed the blade from her, and I stabbed him 32 times. I brutalized his body to make sure neither the coroner nor the forensic pathologist would be able to distinguish her stab wounds from my own." He explained solemnly. His eyes were void of any emotion while talking about what he did to your assaulter.

"The police were looking for anything to pin on me anyways. They always had thought I got off easy on my juvenile cases, and they suspected I had something to do with Jin's disappearance. They just couldn't prove anything. So, when this opportunity fell into their lap, they ran with it."

"Why didn't you try to hide the body to get away with it?" The counselor asked. Sukuna's crimes were those of cold calculation, and the fact that he made sure to strip off his gloves to taint the blade with his fingerprints proved that he was still very calculated with this murder as well.

"When he grabbed her-" Sukuna's fists tightened in his lap, "he pulled her into dark alleyway at the end of town. Bastard just thought he was going to assault her and leave her stranded in the alley- There was no way for me to move his body without being seen or caught on camera."

"I didn't try to argue when they came for me the next day. I would've willingly surrendered myself if it kept mouse out of trouble. They booked me into the county jail within hours, and I took a plea deal on my second court appearance." He explained as was back to picking at the scabs on his knuckles. They were likely never going to heal if he kept picking at them, making them bleed.

"Why didn't you go for a trial?" The counselor asked. There were ways for Sukuna to be proven not guilty. He probably would've qualified for at least a lesser charge of second degree murder or even manslaughter.

"I knew they'd try to subpoena mouse to testify. They'd drag up her trauma and make a spectacle of her in court. I wasn't going to let them try to convince her that what happened to her wasn't anything less than assault, and I wasn't going to let them retraumatize her." Sukuna spoke firmly, shaking his head.

The counselor honestly found it admirable of him. Most "Bonnie and Clyde" killers would actually turn on each other to get themselves out of trouble, but Sukuna would bear the weight of your crime on his shoulders, and he'd still find other ways to protect you from any negative consequence that he could.

"So, I took a plea deal. I plead guilty to the murder and was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole with weekly 20-minute counseling sessions. In exchange, the district attorney made sure mouse's name was scrubbed from every court document, social media outlet, and news source. They had to act like she was in the witness protection program." Sukuna explained with a sigh. It was another way to protect you.

The counselor felt strangely empty. Sukuna's and your story was tragic. A boy who fell madly in love with a silent girl and vowed to protect her from anything. Did he belong in prison for this? Does this excuse him killing your dad? Did this excuse him slaughtering his own flesh and blood? How do they move on from here?

"You were a sensation in court... had your own little fanbase and everything." The counselor hollowly mused, remembering the young women that piled into the courtroom to catch a glimpse of Sukuna. They had idolized him for what he had done. Plus... he was handsome in the most sinful way possible.

Sukuna rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue with annoyance. "The same bitches who praised me for what I had done didn't respect what I was trying to protect. They're always trying to find and leak mouse's name to the public. They don't give a fuck about me or her. They just think our story is perfect for some shitty dark romance novel."

The room fell into a tense silence once more. Neither of the two men knew how to move on from this.

The silence was finally broken with a correctional officer's voice booming through the office. "Ryomen! Your time is up!" He shouted as his fist connected against the door multiple times.

The counselor sighed as Sukuna wordlessly rose from his seat. This session had been worse than either of them could've predicted. "Take care, Sukuna. We will not meet again next week due to the holidays, but I'll see you in two weeks."

The prisoner grunted in response while still walking towards the door. The loud buzzer filled the room once more, and he was let out.

It didn't feel right to watch Sukuna walk back to his pod. The justice system had failed you as a woman, but he was willing to shield you from any harm that threatened to come your way.

𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚜: 𝚁𝚂

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟼

𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝟹𝟶𝟷.𝟾𝟹 (𝙵𝟼𝟶.𝟹) 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚂𝙼-𝟻)

𝚂𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚜: 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 [𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳], 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 [𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳]

𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗.

Taglist (FULL): @catladythoughts @pinky0328 @coldluminarykoala @lemonlimecrystal-blog @san-it-is-i-guess @kunasthiast @nonamevenus @ecliipzed @jup1tersuccubus @gojodickbig @totallygyomeiswife @gremlinartstudio @tojislittleprincesss @jaybirdluvr73 @emyyy007 @b3bybunny @unofficialsapphire @thequeenofcurses @canecomplex @sukubusss @satosugu4-ever @theonlyhonoredone @eravariety @kaged-kitty @stargirl-mayaa @jinxiewritings @startwithrecords @nikki-demi @samoankpoper21 @grinnwolph @mizuwki @cisseadven @meandmyhomieshateshibuya @gradmacoco @lolololololhanma @theuclid @uma0777

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Kitten | The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Something about you catchs his eyes. Now he wants you all for himself.

Warnings: Obsess!Salesman - Canon violence - Sugesstive - Manipulation - Reader loves cats - Maybe OOC - Kind of pet play - E/C = eye color - Reader gets called Kitten -

Another morning, another day ahead, names to meet and recruit, a speech that was deep in his mind.

His movements were calculated, robotic, his smile a fake one, to hide the disgust he felt towards the peopel he had to met.

The last hour, the last train and last name. Your name. The Salesman did his usual thing while waiting for you to appear, get himself a coffee from a cheap machine and let his mind wonder.

Even if he had read your file in order to have the upper hand in the exchange, he was curious to see how you truly were, how would you react to his approach, what would you say or do once he told you about the game.

Maybe the work of the day was getting him, his eyes did let (only for the observant ones) that he was tired to not degree.

One more, one more worm and I can go home.

The train came, lots of faces walked pass him, he only wanted to find yours and put an end to his day.

Finally He saw you, you were looking at your phone, smiling? Well he guessed even someone in your situation could smile.

Maybe you got a lover back home.

He saw how you took a seat, most likely to rest after a long day at your underpaid work, that did not cover any of the debts you had. Yet you did not look discouraged or sad, you were rather animated by what your body language gave out.

Feets moving side to side like a song was playing only for you. That smile and a spark in your eyes...

How dumb yet cute.

Still, he needed to end the day and your name was the last one. So there he went, moving with confidence till he took a seat besides you, his trusted briefcase close.

"Miss.." He tried to get your attention but nothing, you were too deep in your phone writing something. He dared to take a look.

What in-

Cats. Multiple pictures of cats. Different colors, shapes and ages.

It was not the most strange thing he had seen from someones phone but still...

A new photo came in, it was a cat, rather slim with one leg missing but it seemed full of life.

"Im glad you are fine" He hear your whisper thanks to the sitation now out of peopel and that even if you whispered it was rather loud. Most likely you had no sense of self preservation or did check your surroundings since he was able to basically see your phone screen and your messages for...four minutes?

Yes, defently too much for the little patience he had, he wanted to end his day now.

"Excusme Miss" He tried again this time louder and it did finally caught your attention.

You turned to him, too lost checking your cats and how they were doing so far. You never noticed the man besides you. He was tall, black hair and wearing a suit. You could tell it was a rather expensive one, at his feets was a briefcase.

Ah Salesman, he must sells life saves or something.

"Sorry Sir, im in no position to buy anything" You said looking at his dark eyes and bowing then you went back to check your phone.

Well someone ignoring him was not a first.

"Miss, im not here to sell you anything" He started getting your attention back with a rather funny and confused look on your face. "Im here to ask you to play a game with me"

"...A game?" You asked not really beliving your ears. What man would ask a stranger to play a game with them at 11 p.m. in a subway station?

Was this a scam ? A trap maybe ?

Ah, the confusion, he was used to get that too and could only give you a polite fake smile back.

"Yes a game, a game of ddakji" He clarifited pulling from his suit pocket two papper pieces, one blue and other red. "If you manage to win I will give you ₩100.000" He recite just as he always did.

Your eyes opened a bit after that information, while it would not help you that much it would be free money...you could get a warm dinner, something that your current situation did not let you do.

But, there was not a thing as simple as free money, right ? There must be a catch.

"And what would happen if I lose?" You asked him, the hesitation in your voice was clear for The Salesman who just smiled again.

"If you lose, you pay me back ₩100,00. But I doubt you will lose in a childs game" He added trying to incite you to engage in the game.

He studied your face, you were thinking about it, temped by it. Even if the money was not enough, the chance was all it needed to start a chain of thoughts in your mind and finally accept.

And while you were indeed thinking a ring from your phone took your attention away, a new message a new cat pic.

Right, I cant do this. You thought.

"Sorry Sir I must refuse" You started giving him a bow "Even if my chances of winning were high, Im not in position to give you ₩100,000 if I lose. It would not be fair to you" You smiled at him thinking all of this was ending.

He blinked a bit taken back, not because you refused, he had deal with that before, but what you said.

Fair.

The world was not fair. The information in your file let that clear, it was obvious that you knew it.

Then why not take advantage of this? Even If he was just giving you the illusion of money, why not try ? And more, why be worried over whats fair ?

"May I ask why you cant play with me?" He finally said, pulling the pappers back inside his suit pocket. "Its not a big amount of money and I would not make fun of you if you lose"

He was trying for you to feel safe, maybe you were nervous he would judge you ? He knew he could be quiet intimidating

"Oh! Well its rather...embarrassing" You responded, nervously biting your lower lip then looking at the ground.

The Salesman's eyes lingered over your lips, the way you just bite them. Maybe he was getting tired but something from that action  just called him, made his body react.

"It cant be that bad" He tried again, trying to sound gentle

"Well, im in debt because my ex-boyfriend ran away with the money for the Cat Shelter we had together, took away all my savings and I ended in debt cause of it" Your tone did let him know you were angry, sad, frustrated and ashamed.

Well, he did know. But hearing out loud did make it sound funnier he could not lie to himself.

But seeing your face now, that sad look and how you had looked so happy earlier at the cat pics (probably some cats you managed to save and find a home before all things went wrong). It made him feel bad for you, something he never felt towards anyone in his line of work.

"Mhm so your ex-boyfriend ran away and then you kept the shelter by yourself?"

He cant lie, it was a cute reason.

But stupid no less.

"I did, we had too many cats and all of them were sick. They needed someone, I could not ignore them" You tried to explain, a sad smile now on your face as you remember the old promises and memories.

And look where that took you.

"I dont hope that you get it, most peopel laughts when I tell them. Even the load sharks had got a good one" You said pulling out your phone and looking at something while the Salesman let his mind wonder.

You were right. He did not get it. It was something he would never do, an act so compassionate towards a creature...it was not in his nature.

"Look, this is Fat Luigi" He hear you said as you showed him your phone with the image of a big fluffy black cat. "When we first got him he was underwheight, most vets told us he would not make it. It was hard, I passed many nights awake taking care of him, and spent lots of money on him. But now seeing him healthy and happy, it just makes it worth it"

"But are you happy right now? Arent you afraid of your debts?" He asked, curious to know how your brain was working under the stress you most likely had.

"Happy...., well I cant say I love my life right now, I work long hours and the job its bad, I have load sharks on my back and the place where the shelter is will most likely be destroyed since I cant pay..."

He nodded listening to you.

"But im not sad. Yes the situation sucks but when i see the cats i managed to help...honestly even if it sounds crazy, I would do it again" You ended giving him a tired yet honest smile. One that made his heart beat a bit faster.

For a few moments he did not say a thing, his mind wondering, he was not sure what, something about you made him feel slighty different.

Maybe it was your wish to help ? Even when you had passed and suffered ? How you still wanted to play fair ?

You two were different in many ways.

"You would?" He asked seeing you nodd without thinking "And tell me, do I look like a cat person ? Would you get me one if you still had your shelter ?" He continued now trying to entertain himself.

You defenetly were not made for the games.

"Well, you do give the energy of a cat person" By the look on his face he was amused "I mean, you seem like you pass many hours outside your home, cats do need their humans but they can work fine alone for a few hours, you would need to pet them for a bit once you get back"

"Oh I see, and what more?" He leaned in closer, his elbow resting on his knee, one hand holding his face as he turned himself to you invading your personal space.

"You seem like someone who will prefer company thats not always over them demanding attention and cats often give you that, well depends on the cat" You explained blushing at his proximity.

"Then, dont you think it would be better for me to get a kitten?"

"They can be handfull-"

"Mhm, I would need a submissive one" He said leaning even closer, you could now see his dark eyes and smell his cologne. "One that will wait for me at home and will...please me when I want it and how I want it"

His hand went towards your face slowly touching your cheeck with his knuckles, it made you blush even more and be more aware of him. Something was telling you that this was dangerous, this man who had approach you, and yet you could not get yourself to move.

"Maybe a kitten with (E/C), a bit dumb, stupid, has no sense of self preservation, needs help to do anything. But" He paused his eyes studying your face "But its also cute, on its way"

You did not respond. Mouth dry, your mind worked around his cryptid words. Was him...insinuating something?

"How big its your debt?" He asked keeping the small distance.

"Too big" you responded your voice letting out how nervous you were. It was a miracle you managed to get these words out.

He smirked, he knew the exact number and also, he loved knowing he was the one causing you to feel nervous, maybe you were scared?

The idea that he could be scaring you excited him.

"Tell you what, I will pay your debt" He saw the suprise in your face and disbelief  was impossible to hide "But, you must pay me back" He added moving his hand, his thumb now over your lower lip. "You can pay me with your body, I said I should get a kitten right? I believe you are perfect for that position. All you will have to do.." He trailed off forcing his thumb inside your mouth "Its obey me, when I tell you to do something I expect you to obey. If you dont behave, well lets say I can be very creative with my punishments"

He could see the terror in your eyes but also the combination of hope and arousment.

Sick cute thing, just what he needed

"Mhm, lets give it a try shall we? Suck my thumb like a good kitten, I want to see how well you can obey"

Timidly under his dark stare and big pupils your tongue touched his thumb, a shiver went down his spine as he felt it. Your wet tongue licking his finger trying to give it as much attention as you could.

The Salesman moved it around your tongue, almost groaning when he saw you close your eyes and use one hand to take his arm, like you were grounding yourself. He felt a bulge starting to form and couldn't wait to see how wet you were getting.

Abruptly he took off his finger from your mouth taking your neck and kissing you, it was demanding and not loving. He sucked on your lower lip till you moaned and he used this chance to push his tongue into you, caressing yours and sucking it. Needing to hear you moan one more time for him.

What came first were the sounds of steps, The Salesman separated, breathing hard, just like you. Your face was red and eyes wide open and also full with lust. He moved his hair giving you a twisted smile getting up and taking your hand.

"W-wait were are we going?" You asked at him confused by all of the exchange, "Will you really pay my debt?"

"Oh I will my kitten, you will have your loved shelter back and will be able to rescue all the dam cats in Seoul" He said opening the bathroom of the sitation checking that it was empy.

"But first, I need you to take care of something" He said pointing at the bulge between his legs.

He did not miss how you licked your lips.

"Dont worry, I will get you a collar later, now. Get on your knees and show me just how well you can suck, kitten"

[uniasus]

Nither Danny nor Jazz were big flirts, but they learned together that flirting and a bit of skin led to bigger tips.

Danny tucked in his shirt, rolled up his sleeves to expose his forearms, tousled his hair, dabbed a bit of clear lip gloss on his lips, and strutted towards the Waynes with a try full of waters held in one hand. People had types, and the Waynes all seemed to like subtle strength.

"What can I get you this morning?"

He flashes Tim a smile, who slumps behind the menu. Dick snickers at him, but his own ears go red when Jazz flicks her fingers at him in a hello from across the cafe.

"Pantoast," Steph says confidently.

"You got!" Danny pulls out his pen with a twirl and writes both pancakes and french toast on his pad. The Waynes can afford the extra plate, and a bigger bill means bigger tips. "Toppings?"

Danny scratches at his chest, feeling four set of eyes follow his fingers.

"Pecs, eh, pecans," Steph sputters. Danny graciously ignores the flob, even as Damian scoffs at her.

Steph's flusters are always cute.

"Blueberry pancakes for Damian?" Danny asks. It's not what Damian always orders, but its favorite and the youngest Wayne always seems to preen when Danny remembers.

Damian nods, and Danny goes around the table. Most of what they order is heavy on the protein, omelets and skillets and eggs benedict for Duke, with extra tomatoes. Alfred simply orders orange juice and a fruit cup.

Danny touches Tim's hand, just to watch him blush. "Gonna try decaf today?"

"N, no."

"Double latte it is then."

Danny knows they have shit coffee, but the machine latte is okay. Danny also knows the Waynes can afford much better. They're here for one, okay, two reasons only.

He delivers the food with a smile, leaning farther than needed over Tim's lap to place down Duke's plate. He bites his lip while doing so for Damian. Brushes fake crumbs off his chest for Steph as he double checks he hasn't missed something.

Bruce Wayne smiles into his mug of bad coffee.

It's all fun, teasing the Wayne kids. Danny enjoys the tips, the family enjoys poking fun at each other. And when they're dining, the other patrons behave better. Jazz gets less taps on her rear, Danny less pulls on his apron ties.

Jason tried once, to ask Jazz out. She pretended confusion, not recognizing it for what it was.

They can only tease and play, after all. They will be out of here as quick as they can be.

Jazz volunteers to take over the coffee pot for a refill to get in some face time, and Danny sees Tim elbow Jason and Steph waggle her eyebrows at Cass, who ignores it all as she watches Jazz pour coffee without a single drop.

In another life, in another dimension, maybe Danny would be more open to one of them making a move.

Instead, he rings up the order. $300 for brunch at a three star restaurant. The Waynes can eat. And drink. Drip coffee is 0.25 a refill, and Tim's three lattes add up too.

$60 for a 20% tip, a round hundred cuz they're Waynes, an extra fifty for the flirting. It's not much, but it'll do for a guy with no papers working under the table.

He places the check on the table near Bruce's hand. He doesn't rush them out, and any coffee refills Danny is willing to pay for with his tip. Tim's not on the edge anymore, he's traded spots with Duke, and Danny smiles at him.

"Good luck with midterms. They're coming up soon, yeah?"

"Yeah." He's not as shy and squirmy as the others, but his voice is so soft around Danny. He likes being seen.

"Tell me how they went next week."

He flutters his eyelashes just a bit. Holds his gaze as he picks up plates.

The Waynes will be back, and next week Jazz will take the table. Week after week after week. Until the Waynes get tired of their current status quo or Danny finishes the portal.

He's got eight months to enjoy this.

Danny: Ugh, they're back again

Jazz: Don't make that face at paying customers. Do you want to make a portal back home?

Danny rolling his eyes: Yes

Jazz: Then we need to get enough money to buy the parts. If that means waiting tables at a barely legal dinner, where idiots hit on us, then we wait those stupid tables. Now go over there and get the Waynes to leave us a 200 tip.

Danny: Fine, but only if you do too!

Jazz: *Tighten her apron straps into an hourglass figure* Way ahead of you.

Danny: *Rolling eyes but does the same*

Meanwhile with the Waynes

Bruce: It's so nice to go out to eat with you all

Alfred: Indeed. It's a nice change, don't you agree, children?

Wayne kids: *hyperventilating*

Bruce Not looking up from his phone: The Fenton siblings?

Alfred: Indeed, sir. It seems like Master Dick, Master Jason, and Miss Cass are going to attempt to speak to Ms. Fenton today. Master Tim, Master Damian, Master Duke, and Miss Steph don't seem mentally ready to look Mister Fenton in the eye. Bets?

Bruce: Dick chokes on his fork again. Tim face plants on the table, and Steph once again speaks in gibberish after forgetting the entire English language.

Alfred: Very good, sir.

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Flirting with fire

During an innocent dinner with friends, a playful question about Wanda spirals into an unexpected revelation.

“Don’t you think Wanda is beautiful?” Carol asked out of the blue as the four of you sat having dinner. The question cut through the casual chatter like a sharp knife, and you froze momentarily, unsure of the intent behind her words.

You turned your head to the left, locking eyes with the witch, who was already staring at you with a curious glint in her gaze. “Mm, yeah,” you replied cautiously. “She is gorgeous.”

“Thanks, honey,” Wanda said with a small smile, her tone sweet but tinged with something mischievous, almost as if she were testing the waters.

Carol, not one to let the conversation falter, leaned in with an amused grin. “Weren’t you single?” she asked, her blue eyes narrowing with mock curiosity.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized where this conversation was heading. You leaned closer to Carol, whispering frantically, “What are you doing?” trying desperately to catch the thread of control slipping through your fingers.

Before Carol could answer, Natasha’s attention shifted sharply to you. Her green eyes were piercing as she asked, “Are you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah, but I don’t see why that matters,” you replied, your voice more defensive than you intended.

Wanda’s smile widened as she casually speared another bite of food with her fork. “Good to know,” she murmured, her tone laced with amusement.

“And why is that?” you asked, the nervous energy bubbling up as you tried to regain some semblance of composure. Perhaps a bit of flirtation would help.

Wanda tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smirk. “Why don’t you figure it out yourself?” she teased, her words an open challenge.

“Maybe I will,” you shot back, your voice low, as if daring her to continue.

Natasha suddenly interjected, her voice soft but deliberate. “My love, can you pass me the salt?” she asked, her words directed at Wanda. The term of endearment hit you like a freight train, leaving you confused and more than a little embarrassed.

“‘My love?’” you repeated under your breath, glancing between Natasha and Wanda. Surely, you must have misheard.

Carol couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. “Yeah, they’re girlfriends,” she said, her amusement clear as she gestured between the two women.

Heat rushed to your face as you struggled to process the revelation. “Oh,” you stammered, feeling utterly foolish. You turned to Natasha, who was now watching you with an expression bordering on smug satisfaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you two were together.”

Natasha’s smile deepened, her green eyes glittering with amusement as she leaned closer to you, her voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “Don’t worry, darling,” she purred. “But if you keep flirting with my girl, you might have to start flirting with me too. I don’t bite... unless you want me to.”

Wanda chuckled softly, placing her hand gently on Natasha’s arm in a soothing gesture. “What Natasha is trying to say,” she began, her tone playful but warm, “is that there’s always room for one more... if you’re interested.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your mind reeling as you tried to process whether she was joking—or serious. Natasha smirked knowingly, her gaze lingering on you for a moment too long, as if daring you to respond.

Carol leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a wide grin. “Well,” she said, clearly reveling in your dilemma, “this just got a lot more interesting.”

You opened your mouth to reply but found yourself at a loss for words, the air around the table charged with possibility.

[secondsistershelby3]

WILL THEY KNOW?

Pairing : Young!Silco x Felicia’s sister!reader

Summary : Your sister was so cheerful, confident and sometimes sarcastic, sometimes you even felt inferior but she didn't want to make you feel that way and you knew it. The biggest problem is that you had a crush on one of his friends, Silco.

Warnings : !LIGHT SPOILER S2!, smut, 18+, semi-public sex (I know I'm a whore), getting caught in the act, Vander's balcony takeover (oops), fluff

Notes : I'm a whore for Silco, it’s stronger than me

"But why do I have to come?" You asked boredly as your sister dragged you through the streets of Zaun "because I want you to come too, period" Felicia replied with a neutral look and continued to look forward

You snorted even louder since he wasn't about to let go of your wrist, it's not that you didn't like going to The Last Drop, on the contrary, Vander was very nice, he almost seemed like a father, a father figure. The problem was Silco, every time you had him next to you in your belly you started to have a thousand butterflies in your stomach, you started to burn and almost stammer and you couldn't think straight anymore.

"and Connor?! He wasn't available?" I asked, still whining like a little girl. Felicia didn't answer for almost ten seconds and then she spoke "no" she wasn't bold but almost cautious.

"ooohhhh that sucks" less than two minutes later you were at the entrance to The Last Drop

"Good evening guys" Felicia exclaimed with her arms in the air, like a theatrical entrance. You on the other hand entered with a more awkward walk and a face somewhere between angry and insecure. "Look who's here again," Vander said with a smile as he cleaned a glass. Silco, on the other hand, only turned to look at Felicia and made a single nod.

You were hiding behind her and probably neither of them had noticed you yet. Felicia looked behind her to look at you and smiled "Look who I brought" she moved and still in a theatrical way pointed at you with both arms. Vander smiled looking at you "hey little girl, long time no see" he said it in a cheerful tone, as if to replace an 'I missed you'

"yeah, but I don't really like going out" I said it in a slightly shy tone, you weren't very good at conversations, but you tried to do your best. Silco stood there looking at you with his mouth half open and his cup in his hand, until Vander gave him a light push "um...it's nice to see you again" he pronounced your name in such a suave way, pronounced by him it was as if it were gold to sell

"Come on, come and sit down" Vander invited. You headed towards the desk and took a seat next to Silco, as soon as he looked at you you smiled and he smiled back almost spontaneously.

When you turned around, you didn't see Felicia sitting next to you, you moved your gaze to look for her and saw her in front of the jukebox "what are you doing?" You asked but he didn't answer. Suddenly 'Our Love' rang out in the room.

"What is the occasion?" Vander asked. “Can't a woman want to listen to a song?” Felicia asked moving her hips a little to the rhythm Vander laughed "not this woman and not this song" in the meantime he put away the glass he was cleaning

As the song rang in your ears, you turned to watch Silco write in his notebook, his locks coming out of his ponytail, hanging in his face. You felt that feeling of butterflies, tremors creeping up your whole body. The feeling overwhelmed you so much that you didn't realize you had been watching Silco for a while.

"Do I have something on my face?" Silco asked sarcastically, looking at you with a smirk "I- no no you're fine, I mean not that you're never fine, you're always fine obviously-" Silco's giggle stopped you from babbling "I got the message, girl" you remained with your mouth half open as you watched him go back to writing with a smile on your face.

Your half-open mouth turned into a closed-mouthed smile. What interrupted your thoughts full of rainbows and hearts was Vander who placed four glasses on his balcony "mind full of love?" Vander asked laughing as he poured the drinks into shot glasses "what?! no no no, I don't!-"

"ok, calm down little sister, you'll ruin the peace of this place" Felicia said laughing putting her hand on your shoulder you huffed and slammed your red face against the balcony as you felt Felicia sit down next to you

You heard Felicia laugh out loud at your reaction. You didn't hear much of what your sister said next, you were too focused on getting yourself together.

You raised your head and hand to grab a shot glass Vander had left for you and took a sip

“I’m pregnant” you spat the drink out in front of you and started coughing, you felt a hand pat your back trying to get you to breathe properly again. You didn't even see Vander replace Felicia's drink with juice.

"this wasn't really the reaction I was expecting" Felcia laughed looking at you, your eyes were wide as you looked at her and your eyes were a little red since you almost choked a few seconds ago. Felicia took hold of her juice as you slowly stood up from the stool. Your sister was about to become a mother and you were an aunt, you were amazed at the calm with which she announced it

“wow, I’m the one who should be delirious” your sister turned to look at you still sitting "no... I'm just... well I don't know how to describe it, shocked but also happy. I just... fuck I've never seen you as a mother" you laughed for the first time today "I'll take that as a compliment" Felicia sneered.

In the meantime Silco had closed his notebook and approached the three of you with the stool

you aunt...

you aunt...

Felicia mother...

you aunt

Felicia mother

WOW.

"Are you there?” you heard Felicia call you, you hadn't even noticed that she had gotten up and was walking towards the exit "let's go" "

I...I think I'll stay a little longer to clear my head" Felicia shook her head and laughed "okay but don't be late, idiot 2 has to close" you laughed at his statement

"stay as long as you want" Vander smiled at you and started to go to the back "where are you going!?" you panicked knowing that you would have to be alone with Silco, it appealed to you on the one hand but on the other you knew that you would stutter more than anything else

“fuck…” you hissed, placing a hand on the side of your head Silco drank his drink while turning his gaze towards you

"I've seen you upset all evening, something's wrong?"

YOU, YOU

"I...I absolutely don't, I mean I don't know it's just very hot, and then for the news, but, but everything's fine seriously" you said everything so quickly, gesturing and scratching your head and the back of your neck.

"are you sure it's just that, because once I saw you alone with Felicia and you were so at ease and then I see you with me: you're nervous, you're tearing them apart and you're more nervous" Silco placed his chin on his hand while he he moved closer and closer with the stool

You tried to speak but nothing came out of your mouth "Did the cat get your tongue?" Silco laughed in the same position.

“I don't know what you're saying-" You started to turn your head but his bandaged hand grabbed your chin. “don’t mock my intelligence” you saw his face move closer to yours quickly.

Silco stopped a few millimeters from your lips "may I?" he asked You nodded uncertainly and suddenly some fireworks that only you could see went off. You felt Silco's thin, warm lips on yours. He placed his other hand on your cheek, leaning forward on the stool

You pushed Silco back slightly, as good as it felt, "what if Vander comes back or what if Felicia comes back?" “We'll make it quick, they won't know” he put his hand that was on your chin, on the back of your neck to bring you closer and placed his warm lips on yours again.

You were always uncertain, you were never able to make decisions, but it was the time to do it, right? This time you didn't hold back, you tried to deepen the kiss, even if you weren't expert but it came almost naturally to you

Silco put his hands on your hips and jerked you up "what...what are you doing?" You asked between kisses. His hand moved behind your back while the other remained on your hip and he suddenly pushed your back against the desk. "this" he smiled. The hand that was on your hip quickly moved under your shirt.

Your hands had moved seconds before to his shoulders but one moved more securely to his pigtail, ready to untie him "can...can I untie them?" Silco moved his face away from yours slightly and looked into your eyes “of course you can” his voice had become huskier than usual. With his approval, you let down his black hair, it was definitely lovely.

The hand that was under your shirt moved to your bra covered breast. Your hands rushed to grip his hair. You had never been touched by a man, you had always had a crush on Silco, so this was more than exciting

You both stopped in your tracks when you heard noises coming from the back. "fuck...it's better if-" "We'll make it quick, I promise" Silco interrupted you

His hands quickly went to your pants and you copied his movements by unzipping his, all while the two of you resumed kissing. Silco's hands quickly pulled down his trousers, just to be able to perform the act. “it will hurt, as much as I want to avoid it I can't, stop me immediately if I hurt you” you nodded slowly as he lowered his open pants.

Before long the cock was inside you, you suddenly hugged yourself to him as you moaned "shit!"

You didn't see Silco smile at your reaction. After seconds you got used to that feeling of filling, Silco's hips began to move slowly until they picked up speed, each thrust slammed against the balcony making noise and with each thrust there was either a moan from you or a grunt from him.

“fuck, fuck…” Silco hissed as he placed a hand on the balcony behind you.

You were almost about to come but something or rather someone stopped you

"Christ! You guys get a fucking room!"

You snapped your head up and turned to see Vander with his hands on his hips and turning his head. Your face turned red as a tomato and you pushed Silco away and immediately pulled up your pants. He on the other hand was so calm as he pulled up his pants and laughed at your reaction

"I had just cleaned it" he huffed putting the rag on his shoulder

You rushed to the exit without saying anything.

“Are you leaving without saying goodbye?” Silco's voice called you with your hands at your sides you turned towards him uncertainly, you took hesitant steps towards him who had his hands crossed and his hair still loose and disheveled. You waited a few seconds and in a thousandth of a second you gave him a kiss on the cheek and quickly left the bar.

"congratulations idiot 1"

"thanks idiot 2" Silco was still looking with loving eyes at the exit you had passed through a few seconds before

[pushingdaisies1]

hihi!! i love ur writing it literally makes me kick my legs and twirl my hair its so good!! can you write one for thanos where reader is curious about the drugs hes taking and they ask for one but instead of just handing it over he puts it on his tongue and is all like “come and get it” and they make out 🙂��️ kind of freaky my bad BUT IVE BEEN THINKING OF THIS

 ➞ ౨ৎ Princesa . . .

― ꒰ PAIRING: Choi Su-Bong (Thanos) x Reader! ꒱ ― ꒰ SUMMARY: Playing with your life to pay off your debts... you didn't expect to make connections so fast. Su-Bong, better known as Thanos, was a pain in your ass. A ear-grating, manipulative, piece of work. But a part of you found his poor attempts of flirting charming. Sure he sucked, but so did you and everyone else here. That's why you were playing these games. Quickly you both had formed a sort of connection after the first game, hell he even remembered your name. Men like Thanos just never knew when to shut up. So, before the second game, you decided to shut - him up. With your lips of course. ꒱ ― ꒰ WARNINGS: Drug usage cause you two r bonding with popping pills!! Gave reader like debt.. reasons? You got crypto scammed, sigh. Also a tad bit suggestive near the end. Other than that.. nothing else <3 ꒱ ― ꒰ AUTHORS NOTE: Tysm!! Yes ofc ohmygod I literally love this request... you are so smarty pants 4 this AGHHH ok ok ok!!! I decided to go in a more headcanon style for this one if that is all alright. If you want to submit for more characters, check out my pinned post right here, ᶻz ꒱

♡ ⦂ You were awoken with bright lights, an uncomfortable mattress, and blaring classical music. Was this what you were signing up for? Your eyes shot open as your head jerked around. Trying to take a look at your current surroundings. The last thing you remember is being knocked out with certain fumes after being picked up in an unmarked van. Did they undress you? You weren't wearing this when you were waiting to be picked up? You cringed at the thought of some random stranger stripping you down, only to change you into this. ♡ ⦂ Crawling down from your bunk, you were met with a sea of people. Bodies, the jackets they adorned wearing a number on their front and back. Counting heads, there had to be at least around four hundred people in here. Specifically four hundred and fifty-six when looking at the flat screen right above the metal dome. It was like a cramped chicken coop. Filled with people either already paranoid or oddly curious about what this all entailed. Some stayed cowering in their beds, while others moved to the middle of the room. ♡ ⦂ People weren't so happy about these accommodations. Players were already complaining, you included. It wasn't shocking that these participants already had questions. But they were all put on pause once the guards started flashing footage of people's faces and debts. Yours was on the lower scale, but it felt humiliating seeing you getting backhanded by the recruiter shown to four hundred strangers. Your face still burned from that. A familiar purple head of hair popped up on the screen. ♡ ⦂ Who couldn't remember a face like that? You remembered watching the show he was featured on. He was cheesy at least. But his vibe was funny and he ran with the whole "Thanos" gimmick. For a competition show, he was painted as a comic relief. You may have not been a diehard fan, but you enjoyed the music he made while competing on the show. You couldn't help but think about the odds of you being stuck here, with him. It is really a small world with people drowning in debt. ♡ ⦂ Amid players questioning what looked to be guards, you started to stare. Reading numbers off of the backs of players in front of you. Standing as a bystander to all of this. Funny thing, so was he. You locked eyes with him entirely on accident. As a mother and son argued, this so-called celebrity was reveling in your eye contact. You tried to look away but he pulled something that made both bile in you rise and your chest get all warm. ♡ ⦂ He flashed you a quick wink. Before shaping his pointer finger and thumb into the heart, puckering up his lips. You brushed the gesture and him off. It was a poor attempt at best. But in such dire and unknown surroundings, you couldn't help but crack a glimpse of a grin. Quickly the guards ushered out player consent forms, which meant people started to line up in single file lines. After that speech the square guard made about second chances nobody seemed to be planning to leave, and neither would you. ♡ ⦂ You easily signed your name down on the paper. Potentially your life away too. This was too sketchy even for you. But maybe you'll have some luck with this game. With the words the guard selectively used, this didn't seem to be so bad. ♡ ⦂ You especially wanted to win, you should be able to pay debts off like nothing once you got out of here. Shoving your hands deep in your pockets you slung yourself back to your bunk. Your best options were to just stay by the sidelines and hope. Hope for what? , well .. anything. Something to quell your already forming boredom. It was like you were watching paint dry, waiting for every player to sign their names down already. You decided to mind your business. ♡ ⦂ You were sat on a lower bed, tugging at the ends of your jacket sleeves. You watched as people in the lines formed talked. Whispers and murmurs with people questioning if the money is all real in between. You passed the time by continuing to count heads. Trying to find maybe other people you recognized.

Trying to find maybe other people you recognized. Hoping deep down none of your closest friends or family got roped into this mess. You felt sympathy for the mother and son arguing in the middle of the crowd, it was a sad display. You focused in and you continued to observe everyone as your mind spun.

♡ ⦂ You were yoinked out of your thoughts when you heard a loud impact against the metal bars atop you. Your eyes widened as you were met with the wide grin of... this guy again? The ends of his hair spiked up almost looking like horns. The purple in his hair was a lot more vibrant up close. It was like staring into the face of a shark. But the fear for you was replaced with interesting intrigue. ♡ ⦂ “Yo senorita, I believe you have not been introduced to me yet..” He remarked with a hand outstretched. “Thanos, but you can just call me your number-one admirer.” Visibly you grimaced, your hands still buried deep within your jacket pockets. His face still held that swagger he carried with him when he walked. But you noticed his eyes wavering just a tad. “No need to be scared of me beautiful. I can't resist not being acquainted with such a pretty face.” ♡ ⦂ “You didn’t seem like the type to use such… nice words.” You replied bluntly with a small smirk. Taking your hand out of your pocket, you shook his hand. It was only a quick couple of seconds of physical contact. His face looked like he took a large and lengthy mental pause. His words sounded hurried as he tried to make a comeback. “Well, I have to be on my best behavior. Seeing such a nice face out and about.” ♡ ⦂ Maybe you’ll humor his advances. Before you could get at least one reply in, he immediately cut you off. “You know you shouldn’t let yourself sulk all by your lonesome. I could keep you company, a cutie like you shouldn’t be sitting away from Thanos.” He boasted, looking proud of his response. You were about to roll your eyes into the back of your head. “Sure, why not? I’m positive your infinity stones will be good enough protection.”

♡ ⦂ He right away took the initiative to show off his rings and painted nails. Each finger resembles the color of said infinity stones. You couldn’t believe he was let alone real. “By the way, that guy.” He pointed to another player. His hair looked somewhat slicked back, standing by one of the bed posts of the bunk beds. Like Thanos on purpose told him to stand there. “Nam-su. A trusted friend of mine. You down for leaving reality and coming into the Thanos experience, princesa?” You cocked your head to the side as if you were examining an in-depth one of a kind art piece. “Uh-huh.” ♡ ⦂ In life, you have to take your chances whenever given them. He was an intimidating sleaze to be associated with. But even the scummiest of people had their little quirks. Especially after he finally asked about your reasons for being a participant in this. “No way, we were scammed by the same guy! We were practically destined to meet.” It seemed like he took every eye roll as initiative. Even trying to include you and another girl, player ‘096’ in the photo every player had to take. This guy just wouldn’t quit it huh? ♡ ⦂ The first game spun your sense of reality. Thank god you weren’t the first to die, that would’ve been embarrassing. What were you even thinking?! Most were able to make it across the finish line. In the hurriedness of the crowd, you noticed a sliver glint. As your eyes trembled, looking over to your far right you saw it. Thanos’s cross, its chain hanging low. In the silence with only shuffling feet and heavy breathing filling it, you could see the top of the cross unlatching open. 

♡ ⦂ You’ve never popped a pill any day of your life. If it wasn’t prescribed pain medication. But god damn did those look good to have right about now. His mood was utterly carefree as soon as he popped one. Hopping and skipping like an energetic bumblebee. Looked like it was at most ecstasy. Your nerves were killing you right now. It was shocking you hadn’t stumbled back in fear yet. But somehow you completed the game, still alive, and needing to calm the fuck down. ♡ ⦂ Once voting came around, you still felt your anxieties swirling. Your debt was too massive for you to back out now. The falling bodies of players loom in the depths of your brain. Guilt ate at the most empathetic parts of you. You could feel everyone who wanted to go home, burning stares into the back of your head. But you’ve seen too much to go back without all that money to your name. It was pointless to back out now. Your vote was met by Thanos immediately and firmly wrapping his arms around you like you were his doll. “You made the right choice beautiful! I was almost worried you were about to betray me.” It felt like both a threat and a sweetly coded warning. ♡ ⦂ You were completely withdrawn from your surroundings. Practically tuning Thanos, Nam-gyu, and Gyeong-su out. The guy seemed like a mega Thanos fan. It made your ears burn. You had a disjointed stare watching as Thanos and the little devil on his shoulder kicked the biggest reason you ended up here, Myun-gi. It was idiotic of you to even buy into that stupid crypto coin, the same coin your ex-boyfriend had insisted on you invested your good money into. ♡ ⦂ Soon he came back to where you and Gyeong-su were sitting. Gyeong-su immediately harped on the older man who had put practically his idol in his place. Practically close enough to snapping Thanos’s neck. Thanos turned to you, tapping a finger to his cheek. “You thinking of kissing it better?” He joked with a wiggle of his brow. Once again, like clockwork, you rolled your eyes. “In your dreams.” You murmured with a sneer. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing. Causing Nam-gyu to only awkwardly chuckle, the guy just didn’t get it.

♡ ⦂ As the glow of the grotesquely large piggy bank illuminated your surroundings, you planned a way to shake down that spikey-haired rapper. You needed to be calm and controlled for the next game. Who knows? , one wrong move and you could be getting gunned down. He seemed easy to persuade enough. You just needed to play into the palm of his hand a little bit more. Then you’d be out of anxiety city. ♡ ⦂ You were able to sleep peacefully at the thought. Quickly morning came around, and the same elegant tune playing rapidly over the speakers. People were already awake or just rising from their beds. You spotted Thanos’s bunk, a lower one in one of the corners of the room, bingo. You had your eye on the prize. You couldn’t slip up on this next game. It wasn’t an option for you or your livelihood. ♡ ⦂ You slinked over stealthily to his bunk. Catch him when he's only now getting out of bed. You saw Nam-gyu looking down into where Thanos was lying. The two were clearly in conversation. But as soon as you walked over he buzzed off. Thanos was only now closing up the locket as you appeared infront of him. You were staring him down, your palms placed right on your hips. ♡ ⦂ “I saw you pop one of those little candies yesterday.” You confronted him about it. He looked at you like you were crazy but decided to play along. “Yeah .. so? They are a Thano guaranteed little boost.” He chuckled as he began to zip his jacket up. The locket still hung low on his chest. He hadn’t slipped it under his jacket or shirt yet. Perfect point to now make your move. ♡ ⦂ “Come on what is it? I’m a big girl.” You persisted as you cornered him deeper into his space. He only seemed purely amused at your ploy. “You know what? , I’ll be nice. Come and get it.” He bragged as a defining clink could be heard from in between your bodies. “It's hard stuff princesa, you may not like it.” He purred as suddenly he plopped a pill on his tongue, mouth wide open ♡ ⦂ Your eyes expanded in shock that he was letting this happen. Were you going to stoop low and make out with a prideful buffoon just so your hands wouldn’t twitch as hard in the next death game? Well yeah, of course you were. It was either your life or a full-body buzz. So you decided to take the ladder. With ease, you cupped his cheeks as your lips landed on his. ♡ ⦂ You were rough with him as soon as he reciprocated. He didn’t hesitate at all as soon as you got closer. The exchange between the both of you was hot… almost purifying. His hands roamed over your body, his fingernails digging into your clothed hips. He was trying to pull you more into him and you didn’t stop it. Teeth clashed against teeth but no one complained. You were practically just reveling in his lips at this point. By all means, he wasn’t a bad kisser at all. ♡ ⦂ After what felt like forever you two parted lips. Hurriedly you were trying to regain your breathing and composure. He looked back at you with the biggest shit-eating look on his face. You had already ingested said pill. Your brain fogging up and your fingertips are all warm and fuzzy. As you slowly composed yourself you felt your shoulder tension ease. He just seemed proud of himself that he finally got to be kissed, by you.

♡ ⦂ You giggled at him as he had his hands against the metal framing of his bed. You plucked the cross and plopped it inside his jacket. The chain rang his neck a little. “You are… a freak.” You purred out while curling a little spike of hair with your finger. Making sure to put emphasis on your words with the role of the tongue. He reveled in how forward you were being right now. He should’ve offered you one of these sooner. “Yeah.. don’t mention it.” He replied after finally regaining his breath. ♡ ⦂ You fixed your attire up, smoothing the sensation in your hands down as you carried your hands down your chest. He tried to fix his pants in time. Before he knew it your hand was locked in his as you dragged him to where all the players stood. Every step you took was with ignorant blissfulness. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe a prick like Thanos wasn’t so bad to be around. 

― ꒰ AUTHORS NOTE: I hope this was okay!! I was really trying to get him to sound as in character-as possible. The ending was a little rushed because Tumblr wasn't saving correctly and it was PISSING me off. Don't be afraid to send a request to my inbox anytime soon! I'm currently working on requests featuring Dae-ho, Myun-gi, Se-mi, and more. Also, tempted to write something individually for the Hwang brothers? That is for future me to decide lmao. But anyway bye for now!!! ^ _ ^ ꒱

[oldguardleatherdog]

I would like to know more about pup history!

Well, hello, and thanks for asking! Sorry it took a while to respond.

Pup Play as we know it today got its start in 1986 at the International Mr. Leather gathering in Chicago when the partner of a leather artist at the Vendor Market, who showed up in a full-body leather pup suit and a mask crafted by a saddlemaker, started bouncing around the place barking and howling and humping the leather guys as they browsed the whips and chains on display-

-as a protest against the hardcore stoic impenetrable macho attitude that was prevalent among leathermen in those days - the standing joke was that "S&M" stood for "Stand & Model" - breaking through their poser facade, forcing them to interact and engage in a way that was just too cute and endearing to ignore or resist.

Pup Play began as an act of protest at the biggest leather gathering of the year against a cultural and institutional barrier to communication and connection. One guy - one dog - broke through that barrier, and nearly four decades later there are thousands of people around the world who pull on a pup hood and hit the ground or the mats or the dance floor barking up a storm, expressing ourselves in ways that are free and full, in a spirit of joy that at its best can transcend roleplay and allow us to experience, however briefly, "the time when the divorce between human and animal was not yet complete." (Mircea Eliade, Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy, Princeton University Press, 1972)

That guy, "Ranger", who's a good friend and a real sweetheart, is still active in the scene here in San Francisco and is our "First Pup", the original (and best!). A year later, almost to the day, I came out as a gay man - and when I came out, I came out barking. The man who put me on all fours for the first time was the man who brought me out, my first and only Leather Daddy who set me on this wild path that became a life's work.

I'm Pup Number Two, 37 years on all fours. I taught the first Pup Play workshop on record (San Francisco, August 1997), where I presented the first Trainer/Handler curriculum to a leather audience for use and adaptation, conducted numerous clinics, demos, and performances for groups and clubs across the United States, and showed hundreds of kinksters of all ages and genders how they could find, embrace, and express their "inner canine." Over the past year, I've been giving my presentation/lecture on Pup History online and IRL for pup-and-handler groups; it's been well received and is being expanded with new research from the field for 2025.

For several years Ranger and I were the only ones doing this radical fringe weird thing that was viewed as disgusting and sick and immoral by the leather and kink community, vilified so strongly that for the first decade those of us who practiced this kink did so mostly underground, communicating through word-of-mouth and personal ads in magazines, because if it got around that we liked to bark in the sack we'd have been thrown out of the community as sickos who were barely a step above actual bestialists (a slur that has never been true of our practice or those who practice it).

In the US and Canada from 1986 to 1997, there were only about a dozen known pup players - researchers including myself are actively searching for others from that long-ago time if they even existed - and we had to fight like hell for years to be open about the kink that we loved and to be able to express ourselves openly in this way. That's surprising to many given the popularity of Pup Play today, but it took a lot of hardcore commitment in the face of opposition to get us out from the shadows and into the light of day.

I hope this is a good introduction to our history and that I've expressed it well enough to satisfy your initial curiosity! There's much more, of course, so if there are any particular areas you're curious about, let me know, awoo!

Thank you for asking. "Beast wishes" to you for a happy and humpy New Year!

Woofs + wags, Alpha Pup Bruzr

[multiheadcanons]

MEMES AND TRAITS THE MERCS STOLE FROM SCOUT AND POORLY USE TO PISS HIM OFF

soldier: soldier started calling everything a “glizzy” after he heard scout say it exactly once. he was eating a hot dog and said “damn this glizzy is perfectly dressed.” he did not get it, he did not care enough to ask what that meant. he just started calling everything a glizzy. rockets? glizzy. ammo? glizzy. the medigun, fully charged and primed for an ubercharge? “HIT ME WITH THAT GLIZZY, DOC!” this was the beginning of the end with scout, once he got past the white knuckled shock of hearing that man say glizzy way too many times to the wrong things.

pyro: pyro eats up a whip and nae nae, no lie. they saw scout do it after a successful push of the payload, and everyone looked at scout weird, but pyro registered that smile, and those movements and committed it to heart. on the next battle, pyro physically dragged scout to a location near the edge of the map, and made a motion to stay still and watch. it freaked scout out until pyro air blasted one, two, three, four of the opposing team off the map; and after the fourth’s screams were cut short from hitting the bottom; they turned slowly to scout, and hit a whip. it’s the only time scout actually laughed. “yeah, get that shit pyro!”

demo: everything scout knows demo knew well before him, it just never came through right with his accent. but when scout started dapping people up demo was ALL IN for that. always brings scout in way too hard and knocks the wind out of him and stings his hands. “you’re not doing it right, lad! like this!” scout never wants to complain because it feels cool to get dapped up by someone he also thinks is cool, though he doesn’t want to admit that. scout does not want demo dapping up anyone else though because they’re not cool enough, except heavy he’s got no opinion on that because it’s funny to watch demo get the wind knocked out of him.

engineer: engineer hits that “gyat DAMN” often because of his accent. scout is convinced he’s using it wrong, that pisses engie off because it’s literally his accent and scout can get the fuck over himself he’s not from the first generation that made up language. sometimes to piss him off he’ll say skibidi toilet with no actual context to go around it. and scout hates that bc he hates skibidi toilet. also an enjoyer of the dap even when heavy and demo practically lift him off his feet with it.

heavy: heavy will dap people up. he loves it. makes him feel like he’s getting closer with his team. will always end a dap by pulling them in for a brief, yet crushing hug. everyone eats it up, laughing after they catch the breath he forcibly removed from their lungs and patting his arm or back, whatever the recipient can reach. also loves to say rizz, it makes his teeth vibrate in a good way. “doctor, you are a rizz master!” “demoman, keep rizzing your weapons!” “i LOVE my weapons rizz!” he doesn’t know if he’s using it right, scout just wholeheartedly assures him he’s using it right.

medic: medic heard scout say something fucks once. now, for him, EVERYTHING fucks. he himself DEFINITELY fucks. he assumed it’s a good thing. there was one time in the throes of battle, he managed to catch scout to heal him, and used the speed boost he got from it to catch up and yell over the din “you’re FUCKING today, scout!” and scout jumped his ass about how he’s not even using it right and he never wanted to hear that again. unfortunately, the doctor is a hellish bastard who loves pissing people off, so now everything does indeed fuck. he definitely fucks. “oh, my medigun? ja, that fucks. and i fuck too.” “doc, nobody wants to hear what you’re fucking, dude”. pissed scout off more when he and soldier were ubered, running into battle, and soldier said very confidently “your glizzy tops ALL OTHER GLIZZIES” and medic responded, making direct eye contact with scout in the heat of battle; “ja, my glizzy fucks.”

sniper: snipes dabbed twice in the privacy of his own nest to see how it felt and couldn’t get over his own shame that he did that. he did it twice because he alternated arms to see if it felt less stupid to do it the other way. it didn’t. he will never bring himself to do that again. that was embarrassing. has a dreadful feeling the other teams sniper saw him do it. sometimes after a really good kill streak he’ll do a small dab as a treat. he does unironically use “deadass”

spy: anything that will piss scout off spy is happy to do. spy has used words he knows does not exist to confuse scout as to the current slang going around. he’ll have scout on the internet desperately searching words that not only don’t exist, but he can’t even spell, just to make sure spy isn’t a step ahead of him. but spy is always two steps ahead of him. spy will say shit just to feel the bostonians eyes burn holes in the back of his skull, only to turn to him and say “what, you’ve never heard that before? look it up!” then hides in his room to watch him desperately search a word he can’t even spell. unironically uses “deadass” because he heard snipes say it once and it wriggled its way into his mind like a worm. he says it after like… everything.

[pupkashi]

a/n: kakashi word vomit i wanna make out w him

masterlist

kakashi is so attractive & he never believes it until you show him how much you’re attracted to him. when you first see him you’re doing a double take bc no one said the famous copy ninja was such a stunner ???

it takes a lot of courage and teasing from asuma and kurenai before you even think about talking to the silver haired shinobi. at first kakashi thinks you’re nervous because you’re scared of him, so he assures you he wouldn’t hurt you.

“you don’t have to be so nervous y’know, i don’t bite” he smiles, eye crinkling and it makes you flush.

“I’ve just never tried flirting with someone as attractive as you” you blurt out, cursing kurenai for encouraging the three shots you took before walking over to kakashi.

kakashi is shocked, his only visible eye now wide and mouth in the shape of an ‘o’ (even if you can’t see it). he doesn’t say anything, wondering how you could find someone as average as him attractive.

nevertheless kakashi doesn’t make you feel awkward, continuing the conversation. the two of you click perfectly, laughing softly and getting to know each other. kakashi is quick to ask you when he’d see you again, thankful his mask is hiding his profuse blushing.

four months later the two of you as sitting on his couch, the movie was mere background noise as you looked at your boyfriend, something akin to a magnetic force pulling your lips towards his exposed neck. you press feathery kisses all over it, kakashi sighs softly.

“thought you wanted to watch this movie?” he chuckles, moving his neck so you can kiss him with more ease. his words are airy, and you know he’s not complaining nor does he want you to stop.

“you’re too hot to not make out with” you breathe out between kisses, planting some along his jawline before finally landing on his lips.

kakashi is quick to move you, grabbing you by the hips and placing you on his lap. he’s never been one to deny your affection, and he wasn’t gonna start today.

he thinks maybe you’re just feeling clingy today, he’s been gone on a mission for a week or so anyway. that must be all it is. kakashi chalks it up to you missing him after missions for months, no matter how many times you tell him you just think he’s so fucking hot.

it’s not until a little over a two years into your relationship that kakashi lies awake in bed, realizing you’d never once stopped showering him with your affection and compliments. he’d figured once the honeymoon phase was over the rose tinted glasses you had on must’ve come off, but it seemed like they never did.

every day you still greeted him with a sweet smile and a flurry of kisses, “how was your day handsome?” or “hi pretty boy, how’d it go?” or any variation which included complimenting him.

kakashi lets his mind wander, grateful that you were as in love with him as he was you. you stirred in your sleep, flipping and curling into your lovers side unconsciously. it made his heart stutter as he closed his eyes, letting your warmth and steady breathing lull him to sleep.

kakashi comes home the next day with his vest already off, navy undershirt untucked and hair flopping naturally over his forehead.

“how was work toda-” you feel the words stuck in your throat as you drink in the look of your boyfriend. he usually gets home in uniform and immediately goes to the shower and you see him freshened up and changed. it’s a rare, breathtaking sight to see him as disheveled as he in right now.

“what? do i still have blood on my face?” he haphazardly wipes at his face with the back of his hand. you shake your head at him, not trusting your voice as you clear your throat and lean in to kiss his cheek. “what’s got you so flustered, pretty?” his deep honey voice has your cheeks burning as you stare at him.

“you look good” you admit, a small smile on your lips, not trying to hide how badly you wanted to jump his bones in that moment.

“hmm, do i? ‘m all sweaty” kakashi mumbles, letting a cocky grin play on his lips as he bends over slightly to allow his lips to hover over yours, “missed me that much baby? you made me late this morning” he smiles as your crash your lips into his, not able to hold yourself back when he was only mere inches away from you.

“not my fault you’re so fucking attractive” you say between kissing him, squealing softly when kakashi pulls you into him by your waist.

it’s in every kiss your place to his skin, ever gentle and needy touch, breathing your love into him as you hold him impossibly close. every action and gesture of yours is enough to reassure him as you shoo him off to shower while you finish dinner. kakashi lets the hot water hit his flushed skin with a happy sigh, forever grateful he paid for asuma’s lunch for a month in exchange for him to play cupid.

[pullhisteeth]

I know I said I wasn't doing this anymore but I'm back for one more because this week had me thinking about Eddie and new year and Eddie between ur thighs on new year 🤭 nsfw/smut under the cut. happy new year to you all xxx

your warm cheek slides against crisp bedsheets and you gaze out of the tall windows of the hotel room, the view dark and sparkling with preemptive fireworks. you're not really paying attention to them because on his knees at the end of the bed, with his firm hands wrapped around your thighs, is Eddie.

it's New Year's Eve and he insisted on spending it entirely alone, together. after a busy Christmas he whisked you away to the city, told you he'd saved up a tenner a week all year so he could afford the nicest room with the nicest view in the tallest, poshest hotel he could manage. it's beautiful - when you walked into the lobby you'd almost cried, faced with marble floors and doormen who were kinder than you thought you deserved. and there the two of you were, clothes in backpacks, fresh of the train to New York.

"where've you gone?"

you tear your drooping eyes away from the pretty view and lift your head to look down at him. his thumbs are stroking the soft insides of your thighs and his eyes are just as kind, looking up at you, smile lines showing. you hum, dropping your head back and your hand to the crown of his head. you weave between curls and tug gently.

"this 's nice," you tell him lazily. he kisses the dip where your leg meets your hip.

he says nothing, watching you as your head turns back to the window. he enjoys the sight of you so happy and the gentle pull of your fingers in his hair.

"how long?" you ask him quietly. he glances to the television over his shoulder, where two daytime television stars he doesn't know the names of chat at a low volume in front of Times Square. the little clock in the corner reads 23:57.

"three minutes, sweetheart."

you turn back to the ceiling and playfully tug at his hair again. "better get busy, baby," you say.

you feel a brush of hot air as he laughs against your thigh, before he kisses each leg and moves between them again. he's slow, gentle, lazy with it as he brings you back to the brink. you've been teetering on it for an hour or so now, stopping to chat or kiss or lose another bit of clothing, but he always ends up back on his knees for you. soon enough, both of you hear the television coverage get restless, the crowds in the city getting louder - there's half a minute to go, he's on a timer.

he knows just what to do because he knows you, better than anyone has before. he speeds up, his mouth joined by determined fingers. you're panting, hands impatient in his hair, back arching. distantly you hear the tinny sounds of the television speakers, thousands of people chanting: ten, nine, eight-

"c'mon, sweetheart," Eddie's saying into your cunt, "you're so close, I can feel it."

-seven, six, five-

"Eddie," you pant, "keep- keep going, like that-"

-four, three, two, one-

suddenly, the indigo sky outside explodes in bursts of red, green, gold and purple, and you hear a chorus of horns on the streets below. at the same moment, your stomach tenses and your eyes shut tight, a white-hot pleasure bursting in your gut. Eddie coaxes you through it like always, fingers and mouth moving til you calm down and tell him to stop.

"that's it, gorgeous, you did it, knew you could. good girl."

you're heaving, your thighs are shaking and damp, and Eddie's laughing softly. after an age of working you up to it he got what he wanted: his own firework show at the strike of midnight.

"get up here," you whisper. your voice is a wreck and you're sure your brain's working at half capacity.

the crowds on tv are still cheering. Eddie moves over you, careful hands sliding your bare legs together and up onto the bed. resting above you, he moves damp hair away from your eyes and dips his head to give you a kiss, and then another one.

"happy new year, Eddie," you whisper as you lift your head to kiss him again, arms winding around his neck. you kiss the corner of his mouth, and his jaw, and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

"happy new year, angel."

[suguslve]

‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧— DO I LOOK LIKE HER?

synopsis: in which you, the new human transfer in Devildom realize bit by bit that you are only seen as a replacement for Lilith.

♰ pairings. obey me brothers x fem! Reader

♰ genre. angst

♰ word count. 600

♰ a/n. first ever fic i’ll be uploading on here T^T lmk your thoughts (and dw part 2 is already in the making :P) also! this was inspired by niki’s song ‘did you like her in the morning’ & tyler the creator’s ‘like him’. enjoy reading!

you were nothing but a mere replacement–a placeholder,

someone to fill the gap in their hearts from her departure.

someone to keep them company until she returns.

you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, truthfully. you didn’t know that you were only cherished, protected by them because you reminded them of her. but apparently, you've got it all down–from her features down to her little quirks, hell you two could be mistaken as twins.

it's funny, you think, how the gods above are playing this sick cruel joke on you, they must be laughing at your misery right now.

you’d first heard it from simeon.

“Lilith?” Simeon whispered lowly when Solomon first introduced you to each other. You looked at him, confused, and baffled.

“I’m sorry? you must be mistaken” you quickly answer, “I’m y/n.” you corrected him. He then shook his head lightly and posed an apologetic smile on his angelic features.

“Right. Yes, apologies. It’s lovely to meet you y/n”.

then next, from the brothers.

Lord Diavolo had made arrangements for you to stay at the House of Lamentation, demanding that the brothers take care of you, their new human student.

“We’re here.” said Solomon, as he helped you make your way to the door. “Now, I’m afraid I have to head back to Lord Diavolo’s castle, he probably has more demands from me.” he lightly joked which made you elicit a small laugh. “You’ll be able to manage on your own from here?” he softly asks to which you nod. “Yes Solomon, I’ll be fine, now go. Wouldn’t want you to be late now.” you shoo him off, both of you laughing lightly.

Then, you knocked.

The door opened almost immediately as you see a demon, who you remembered as Lucifer, waiting.

“Come in” his deep voice broke the silence. “Everyone is in the living room, I’ll introduce you to them.” he curtly states as he walks away from you, to which you follow him in. As you step foot into the living room you felt a pair of four eyes on you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She’s going to stay under our care during her time here in the Devildom. Now I expect each and every one of you to treat her with the utmost care, if anything happens to her I’ll be the one to deal with you. Is that understood?” As he finishes his sentence, he is met with nothing but silence as they all stare at you. They all felt a rush and mixture of emotions upon seeing you; you looked so much like….her.

“Lilith…” you hear them all whisper. You look at them confusingly

Just who the hell is Lilith? Before more thoughts enter your brain, Lucifer clears his throat and continues speaking.

“Right then, I’ll be introducing you to everyone. That one with the white hair is Mammon, also known as the Avatar of Greed. Followed by Leviathan, also known as the Avatar of Envy, and that’s Asmodeus also known as the Avatar of Lust, and lastly Beelzebub known as the Avatar of Gluttony.” you were about to ask where the others are when he cuts you off. “Satan and Belphegor are in their rooms, you’ll get to meet them sooner or later.”

You then politely smiled at all of them. “Hello everyone, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you all.”

A few months had passed after that.

And in those few months, you grew closer to everyone, especially the brothers, connecting and clicking with them almost immediately. However, the name “Lilith” never left the back of your head. How could it when everytime you’re out and about with any of the brothers, you’d hear that name being whispered by the other demons you passed by. You try to not pay them any mind but you simply couldn’t.

And then things started to change.

all rights reserved to © suguslve.

[backseatsoldier]

"Broken", Not Stupid - Nesting Suppplies (Bonus)

Pairing: alpha!Simon "Ghost" Riley x unusual omega!OC (13)

CW: Omegaverse; cult-like situation; dehumanization; selling children to a cult

Author's Note: Um... hello, my 100+ followers... holy shit >.> Let's celebrate with a bonus part! Thank you all for being here <3 and happy new year, everyone!

<Johnny.

>L.T.

<Smartass. I need your help. <What the hell do omegas need for their nests? Pillows and blankets but what else?

>L.T. >Did you find an omega?

<In a way, yes.

>Did you go to Salvation?!

<Yes. There's a lot to it but for now I just need you to help me gather things for a nest. <We're going shopping.

>HELL YEAH!!!!! >I'll be at yours in about 15!

<Johnny, just meet me at the shops. <Johnny.

"Dammit," Simon grumbles.

The idiot already got in his truck, Simon's sure of it. Johnny may struggle with over excitement and ADHD, but he's anal about no phones while driving. He'll even make someone pull over so he can drive if he catches the driver with their phone. Even did it to Simon. Only once. Simon hasn't touched his phone while driving since.

As soon as Johnny arrives, Simon drops an extra bit of kibble and a few treats in Selene's dish before joining Johnny in his truck. The door is barely closed before Johnny's spouting off questions.

"Johnny! One question at a time," Simon snaps then takes a deep breath with his eyes closed. He hadn't meant to snap at the man; he's just overwhelmed as is. "I'm sorry," he mumbles. Apologies are still a work in progress for him.

"Nah, I'm sorry, Si. I can see how stressed you are," Johnny says with a concerned frown. "What's going on?"

As Johnny begins driving into town, Simon explains what he knows and the alarms that go off in his head while he's on the facility's property. For the first time in a long time, Johnny is quiet. Even when Simon stops talking, Johnny is deadly quiet.

"What's her name?" Johnny asks finally, eyes on the road and shoulders tense.

"I don't think she knows. Introduced herself as 'UK-009-0013' or '13' and said nothing about an actual name. She doesn't even seem bothered by being called a number."

"I see," Johnny says softly. "Well, let's make sure she'll be comfortable in her new home."

The two men fall into a thoughtful silence for the rest of the drive. Once they reach the shops in town, Simon seems on edge again.

"What am I even supposed to get her? I can't get her clothes, I don't know her size-"

"Just give her some of your clothes. At least to come home in," Johnny shrugs. "Maybe it'll make her more comfortable. Having your scent prior to arriving could make a difference. If you're worried about nesting supplies, that would be easier. For now, since you don't know her favorite colors or textures, just get colors that will remind her of you and stick to textures that are maybe even softer than you are comfortable with."

"How do you know these things?" Simon asks with a sigh as they enter a shop.

"Research," Johnny shrugs. "And both of my sisters are omegas. So I learned from seeing them grow up. Mum also taught me by dragging me along with the three of them to shop. Hated it at the time, but I couldn't be more grateful now," he says with a smile.

"And you don't have an omega... why?"

Johnny shrugs at his best friend's question.

"Just haven't found a good match yet, I suppose. What about you? You were almost against having an omega and now you've taken one in in far less than twenty-four hours." Johnny raises an eyebrow at Simon in curiosity just before smiling and waving at the shop employee that greeted them at the door.

"I guess..." Simon trails off, thinking. "I guess my instincts finally decided it was time to look. As for 13, specifically? I don't know. Maybe it's because there's something clearly wrong with Salvation and I can't stand for that treatment of omegas?"

"Maybe because deep down you know she's a good match, for some reason or another?" Johnny offers and leads Simon to a display with various blankets.

"Maybe..."

Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | Part One

Tag List: @lucienofthelakes @lostintransist @demothers-empty-blog @scaredyspooks @tessakate @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @nerdyphantomtheorist @gazsluckyhat @peanutismynickname

[tmntxthings]

。・゜・*･゜ﾟ･*･*:*･゜ﾟ･*・゜・。

author’s notes: something short & sweet for the new year, also I’d like to express my gratitude this year to all my mutuals, to my love of tmnt, it has brought me here and I thoroughly enjoy the art & fics you all share, cheers to another year full of turtle lovin’

warnings: fluff, unedited, drabble (super short), aged-up characters, new years theme

—————————————————————————

It was always crowded this time of year at Times Square. But the sheer amount of people flocking the streets always put Leo on edge. As a teenager this was a prime moment to use to his advantage. Get lost in the crowd. People aren’t paying attention to the strangers around them. Their eyes are focused on the screen. On the count down. On the huge sphere in the sky.

But he had grown a lot since then. Even a good disguise couldn’t cover up the fact that he was over six feet tall. Now that, would draw eyes no matter where he went. So he kept to his territory, the rooftops, the many perches one could find themselves on with the multitude of advertisements.

It was always interesting to see humans this far up. But tonight was special. They’d thrown confetti, and it was dance through the wind. Donnie used to stick up his snout, calling it trash, a waste. It seemed like millions of pieces of colorful paper. Litter to Dee, but to Leo, it was different.

He could see why people made their way to this spot. It was a sight to behold. It encapsulated the year, highlighted the moment for the one to come. He never missed New Years in New York. No matter how many times he’d seen the ball drop before. Sometimes the wind would carry the confetti so high that he could reach it. When he was feeling really sentimental he stuffed his pockets with a few coordinated colors that surely someone could guess.

When the count down started, he watched as the humans got ready. They surrounded Time Square on rooftops, with boxes full of confetti, bundled up for the cold and ready to make their first tosses.

Five! Four! Three! Two! One!!

Cheers erupted and fireworks lit the sky. That was signal enough for the workers to start, throwing handfuls of confetti. It rained down onto the crowd. Couples were kissing. Friends and family were hugging. Everything was just, perfect.

“Do you wanna throw some?”

The voice startled his revelry. He met eyes that sparkled, with a hand outstretched bursting with color. He waited. You did too.

He tilted his head. So did you. Then he realized this wasn��t some dream and you were real, alive, talking to him, all the way up in his territory asking if he wanted to partake in the tradition. In littering he guessed Donnie would snark. But Leo wanted to. So he dropped down from his spot, landing next to you.

You didn’t flinch. You waited for his palm to open, and dumped the paper in his hand. Wisps escaped from the exchange but Leo was quick to toss and you were ready with more to give. You smiled. And so did he. He wondered absentmindedly if you knew him? Had he saved you before? New York knew of their vigilante heroes whether they publicly supported them or not.

You took in his appearance as if he was a long time friend. Your presence was one that brought Leo comfort. And he went through the entire box without pausing. When that was over he thought you’d maybe thank him, or bid him farewell, but instead you made you hopped on the edge of the rooftop. Instincts gave way and Leo’s hand was already reaching out to catch you if you slipped. But you sat down, legs dangling off the edge as of the drop wouldn’t be one to kill you.

You then patted the spot next to you for him to join. To watch the flurries of color float through the air and make their way down. He sat next to you. You told him about your year, the highs, the lows. You asked about his. You talked about what you hoped this new year would bring, your goals, the future. You asked about his plans.

He smiled, because he always had many of those. It was effortless with you, and that was strange in itself. To be sitting here with a stranger, a human, talking as if he was just another person. And maybe he was. Maybe in this moment. It was nice. You handed him a blue piece of confetti, and he pocketed it.

[scary-grace]

Readers listens to artists like Lord Huron, wave to earth,day6, the last shadow puppets that sort of vibe. Their music tastes are similar enough for the most part however if a song is a little too romantic he will second guess himself because what if she doesn't know that he's playing for her (she does) or what if she thinks its weird (she thinks its the cutest thing in the world)

Unfortunately writing is not a talent I possess however if you wanted to write it I would simply be obsessed. You are my favorite Shigaraki fic writer and I know youd be able to do my silly little idea justice😭(If you do decide to write it please feel more than welcome to change reader's music taste to something more comfortable for you if you'd like! I know not every artist is for everyone) But I just wanted to thank you so much not only for the amazing work you put out but also for being so kind!

Ahh, thank you for the kind words about my writing! I’ve been thinking about this AU all day long, and this is my first shot at the first not-meeting between Tomura and the reader! I like the music taste you’ve given her (esp the Lord Huron) but I wanted the first song to be a little more egregious 😅 if this is what you had in mind I’d love to write more!

When Tomura rented this apartment, he had no idea the walls were so fucking thin. No matter where he is in the apartment, he can hear absolutely everything that’s going on around him. The couple in the apartment above him fighting. The couple in the apartment on the left having such obnoxiously loud sex that he almost wonders if they’re doing it just to piss him off. The guys below him would be all right, except they play Mario Kart twenty-four seven, with the volume on. Any time Tomura wants to do anything — take a nap, do his homework, play guitar, get two seconds to think — he has to do it along the right-side wall of his one-bedroom apartment. At least that’s where his bedroom is.

It sucks not to be able to use most of the apartment he’s paying for. Tomura’s going to host a jam session here in revenge as soon as he can get the rest of the band to pay attention instead of spending forever decorating their own apartments in nicer buildings than this one. In the meantime, there’s at least one spot where he can hear himself think.

Tomura knows there’s somebody living in the apartment on the right. You moved in a day or so after Tomura did, and he only knows what you look like because you asked him where the laundry room is. You were smiling when you asked him, and you’re cute, so of course he fucked it up and just pointed instead of telling you or asking for your name. You’re cute and you’re quiet. That makes you Tomura’s favorite neighbor by default.

He’s sprawled out on his bed, tuning his guitar in preparation for band practice tonight, when he hears you humming on the other side of the wall. At first he thinks you’re just humming random notes, which he doesn’t hate as long as you’re on-key, which you are. In the time it takes for Tomura to recognize the hook, you’ve already started singing.

“Yeah, it’s over, it’s over, I’m circling these vultures, got me praying, man, this hunger, feeling something rotten —” Sit Next to Me, Foster the People. Tomura doesn’t hate the song choice. “Last time I saw you, said “What’s up?” and pushed right through. Then I tried to catch you, but we’re always on the move…”

“And now it’s over, we’re sober, symptoms of the culture,” Tomura mumbles under his breath, “and the night ain’t getting younger, last call’s around the corner —”

“Feeling kind of tempted and I’m pouring out the truth, fading out these talkers ‘cause now all I want is you, just sayin’ —“

“Come over here, sit next to me,” Tomura sings, only to remember that he’s not the band’s lead singer and there’s a reason for that. He shuts up in a hurry, and you keep singing. We can see where things go naturally, just say the word and I’ll part the sea —”

The walls are thin. So thin that they might as well be hospital privacy curtains, which means that if Tomura could hear you humming, you can definitely hear him singing. This is a nightmare. It’s a good thing Tomura doesn’t live in the same building as any of his bandmates. With how goddamn fucking thin the walls are, they’d have heard him singing a nonconsensual duet with the girl in the apartment next to him, and they’d never let him live it down.

He’s not going to live it down anyway. When he gets to band practice still humming Sit Next To Me, he gets roasted so hard by the rest of the band that he’s surprised his guitar case doesn’t catch on fire.

[junedenim]

hello you

one day more, part four

warnings: dad!al, fluff, slight angst, sprinkled with smut (piv)

word count: 12.4k

Sometime around when Lottie had just given birth to Franny, Alex got infected with the flu. It was likely he picked it up somewhere in those hospital halls, but that was never officially determined. Lottie banished him from the house, not wanting him to infect her or their newborn baby. Thus was born Alex's worry and fear that he was missing Franny's life.

He belonged to a profession that often required him to fly away. Lottie said she never cared much, only that she missed him while he was gone. She considers these girls-only days to be the sweet, special moments Franny will remember with her maman. 

But Alex is stuck with that ache of missing them always, even when they are right in front of his eyes. It's like two people laughing at an inside joke. He spent eleven years of his life missing her and it has never fully gone away. Lottie has tried to find solutions to this. It helped that they had mostly three uninterrupted years together after Franny was born, but still, Alex is pained by being away and phone calls just don't do it. 

He wants to smell Lottie's lavender shampoo and feel the glitter nail polish on Franny's fingers. The last time he saw them was when the band was in England and he was, of course, sick. He had Franny paint the nail polish on his nails. It mostly ended up on the skin surrounding the nails, but the act allowed him to endure the six weeks without them because he could just rub his fingers on the pink mess.

He talks to them every night before Franny goes to bed. One night he embarrassingly sang her a lullaby in the corner of a bar. He always feels bad about drinking and having fun without them, especially Lottie, who has to deal with a whiny four-year-old who doesn't want to go to sleep. 

Lottie always insists it's fine but he worries one day it won't be fine. He often feels like he's never got his shit together. She's just dragging him along. Maybe that's why a wedding took so long. Lottie doesn't even wear a ring. Her last name is still the same too and she was the one who wanted to get married. Sometimes he thinks she's playing a big trick on him. That this has all been some massive fraudulent ruse on him and he'll wake up with them gone one day.

Right before they got married, they were stuffed in a Brussels hotel with Franny. They tucked themselves away in the bathroom while Franny was sleeping. Lottie was in the bath and he was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet in his boxers watching her. 

They were sharing a "celebratory" glass of wine between them. Alex asked her, "Do you want me to change my last name?" He thought she might laugh but she didn't. Her expression was contemplative, still processing his words. She sank deeper into the tub, the water touching her cupid's bow. She took her time thinking and he passed it by sipping on the wine. 

She lifted her mouth out and asked, "Why would you do that?"

He shrugged and said, "'Cause I love you" because that has been the driving force of all his actions since 2018. 

She smiled and placed her arms on the edge of the tub, resting her chin on her folded arms. She was cherubic, one of Botticelli's angels. "That's nice."

He came beside her and kissed her after that, but in the darkness of all these empty hotel rooms, he thought about how she didn't say I love you back. He gets this way on the road and he knows he's overthinking and he knows she’s probably nervous that all this time away from one another isn't good for you. But still.

They got married the next day, so, who is he to doubt her love? He's just insecure and lonely, he knows this. It's different now—missing someone. His love for Lottie is undeniable. It's the only way he's able to function, but Franny...that's something different.

She's a piece of him. Literally. Sometimes it feels like she's his heart just running around their London home with a mind of its own. He always knew having children could be like this. He didn't know it would feel like this. It came to him quickly in two moments. 

Right after she was born they placed her by Lottie, but since it was a C-section and given Lottie was still open, they gave her to Alex in place of the usual skin-to-skin with the mother. There, when his heartbeat rang through her little ears and her cries turned to small whimpers, he cried with her. It was the quiet kind of crying. I know how you feel, kid, I love you too.

Loving her is the easiest and hardest thing to do. A weight crushes down on him, threatening to break through his ribs that only subsides when she pats his face and says, "Papa." (Yeah, Lottie got her way).

Late at night on one of those phone calls, he talks to Lottie. She's cleaning up their house in London and he's smoking a cigarette on his hotel's balcony in Vegas. He hears Franny's toys rattle against her hands as she says, "There's no need to be jealous, Al." Maybe he should feel lucky that he's looking out at Sin City's lights and was able to have two whiskeys during a game of poker. He doesn't.

But she speaks to him in a way that always puts things in perspective. The calm in the middle of the storm. It was something that used to seem so unexciting to his teenage mind, even when he was running around Brussels with her, he thought happiness would lay there, but really it lies in her, not the moment.

"You don't miss me?" He asked it jokingly, but he took her answer seriously.

"You're all I think about. The good and the bad. I even miss having your wet towels on the floor."

"Wow," he chuckles. She's crying. He could hear it. But he doesn't comment on it, he knows it will hurt her more. "I bet all my gambling money on green in roulette."

She laughs then says, "You lost, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but it's okay. Got me on the phone with you sooner."

He keeps a photo in his wallet. He'd never thought he'd come to an age when he did that. Lottie makes fun of him for having the default iPhone background. She doesn't know about the photo in his wallet.

It's Lottie and Franny at Waterstones. It's a photostrip, so technically it's four pictures in one. She showed it to him when the band came through London. At first, it felt like another thing he missed out on, but then Lottie showed him a photo strip taken of her with her mother, right when she was around Franny's age. He realized some moments aren't meant for him. But they are, so he keeps it in his wallet.

It's nice to catch a glimpse of it when he's buying dinner or buying M&Ms at a gas station in Roscoe, Illinois. He sees it when he's buying Franny a stuffed animal from the Lincoln Park Zoo. It dulls the ache when he sleeps with it that night. Maybe he's always been childish and never grew out of his twin-sized bed or Franny has just woken the little boy inside him, but he hugs the stuffed polar bear close to his chest that lonely night in Chicago.

It helped that within a few days, they'd all reunite in Montreal, where Lottie could check out how her French compares with the Quebecois. She's never been to Canada before. It reminded Alex of the lack of travelling they had done together. Other than spots around Europe, which nowadays have been reserved for visiting family, he and Lottie have never been on a trip together, non-work, non-family related. 

Perhaps because the first "trip" they took together in Brussels couldn't be topped romantically, however, they didn't even have a honeymoon. Alex insisted against it, knowing he'd be gone soon, and not wanting to be away from Franny for too long and Lottie agreed. 

They will have to do something like it soon or maybe just start with being in the same city. There's something he longs for, wishes he could be better and not do this, but he is pulled in two, even if Lottie says otherwise. He likes going swimming with Lottie. They've only done it twice, both in a pool, but he'd like to do it again, maybe soon on a Californian beach.

A few years back, when Franny was just a babe and everything about being a parent they were struggling to figure out, Alex and Lottie talked about everything and nothing. The mundane helped pass those sleepless nights. It helped their relationship stay afloat and not drown around the strain of their crying child.

Lottie was breastfeeding Franny on the couch. It was sometime around 3:30 in the morning. Franny woke up crying and Lottie insisted it was her turn. After ten minutes of no return and no noise, Alex went out to the living room where the television was on but muted and Lottie looked a second away from dropping dead. He probably did too, except, you know, he didn't just have major surgery to remove a human being from him.

She gave him a wordless smile as he sat beside her and placed his arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. "I'd kill for a coffee," she said. He doesn't offer because she'll refuse, she's breastfeeding after all.

"Maybe we should go out tomorrow. We've all been cooped up for too long." He had been the only one to go out and that had been for a limited time running to grocery stores and the bakery on the corner that has donuts Lottie loves.

She shook her head. "Too much work." She hates the idea of Franny crying in public. She gets so worried about inconveniencing people that she inconveniences herself instead.

Franny unlatched and Lottie handed her off to Alex to burp her. His palm almost completely covered her back. When she was so little like that he had a hard time believing she was real and belonged to him. She sometimes felt like a doll. He always thought the hospital messed up and gave them the wrong baby. She felt too perfect to be his.

"Maybe you should go out for a walk. I can keep Franny company," he offers.

"Who's gonna keep me company? It's boring to walk alone."

They had become so accustomed to that shared space. In the first few months of Franny's life, they were on top of one another and it never bugged them. They liked those early morning couch talks. Sleep suffered but they were fortunate enough to not have to worry about work the next day.

Lottie's mother came a few weeks after the couch talk. Alex and Lottie went on a walk while she watched Franny. It was cold and Lottie curled her arms around his right arm, stuffed away in his coat pocket.

"I love her as my little baby," Lottie said, "but I can't wait until she's a little older and can do all this stuff with us. Can you imagine her walking? We'll each hold one of her little hands and swing her between us. I always wanted to do that."

She had a thoughtful look on her face. Her smile had become a slight frown. She told him about halfway through the pregnancy that she felt like she was rewriting her history. She was so happy Franny would have a loving, present father, but now he's nowhere close to her.

Lottie will say he's nothing like her deadbeat dad, and sure he might at least be around sometimes, but what's the difference if he's not there to hold her other hand?

When he goes to bed in Toronto, he dreams about Paris. They were all together there in May. First for two shows, then during the tour break. They visited Lottie's family and had romantic evenings where Francoise spent the night with her grandmother.

Francoise swung between them as they walked through Luxembourg Gardens. She splashed her hands softly against the fountain waters with infectious giggles. She squealed and asked, "Can we get a frowntain?"

They got her a mini plastic toy fountain and placed it in their small backyard. In late July, the period before he left for North America, he watched her splash in it. They have these metal tables out in the yard that he and Lottie both shamelessly smoked at in the evening after Franny had gone to bed.

He misses that backyard so desperately. The summer air, the smoke that somehow made the air more breathable, the city groaning in the distance. Lottie would sit out there in a shirt and underwear claiming it was too hot for anything else. 

They spoke in short sentences, sometimes tossing the conversation back and forth, sometimes in simple junctions one at a time. Usually, they talked about Franny and their days, ignoring the impending doom of his leaving.

The weather was sweet with a breeze and Lottie looked over at him and he could imagine her at every point he had known her, all combining into the woman in front of him. She giggles at the attention but doesn't ask anymore why he's staring, she knows. 

He laughed with her, just wanting to savour a piece of this, any piece of her for a breath more. It swelled around him. It's still swollen in this waiting process. He hopes they slept on the flight.

He twists his wedding band on his left ring finger. He wears his because he wants to. He loves that kind of thing, loves thinking of her all the time. He likes it when it glistens on stage or he knocks it against the bathroom sink. He twists it when he's anxious and when they're together, having sex, she kisses it like he's the Pope.

It's probably the other way around. He told her once that if he were to ever pray, he'd be praying to her. He says things like this usually post-orgasm, so maybe it's truthful, or maybe he's feeling faint but a blowjob is a very powerful thing.

He used to think he'd spend his whole life waiting for her in the metaphorical sense. He thought one day she might come backstage to a show or when she's hard pressed for cash she'll write a book about their time together or one day in a Parisian cafe she'll walk in. Part of that was true, but now he waits for her—them—in the literal sense. Or she waits for him.

Lottie and Franny arrived in Montreal yesterday. She wanted to get everything settled and try their best to be caught up in the different time zones before they spent a day walking around the city. Franny can be fussy without her sleep and they're still unsure how she'll react to jetlag. This is her first time on a plane.

Montreal is supposed to be their special day. They'll be going to Boston the next day, something Alex keeps joking about even if Lottie doesn't find it so funny. He keeps saying they'll run into her ex-fiancé and Lottie gets increasingly pissed every time he says it. He won't anymore because the joke is getting old, especially when he's her husband now.

Today is a reunion, although, as always, it's mudded with obligations like a concert in the evening. He'll linger the best he can to avoid being pulled away from them. He's sick of other things taking priority. It's his fault anyway. He brought this suffering on himself.

Back during the start of the tour, Lottie flew out and joined him for the short first leg in North America. It started in Vegas where he initially joked that if Lottie blew on his pair of dice they might get lucky (this sounds like a sexual euphemism but seriously it was just a game of crabs) and then they actually won. They kept doing it until they lost all the betting money and vowed to never gamble again.

Unsurprisingly, in Los Angeles, Lottie wanted to go to as many art museums as possible. He lived in that city for so many years yet he's not sure he saw as much of it as he did with Lottie. She kept going on about how Young Man at His Window by Gustave Caillebotte reminded her of him. Alex still doesn't understand this. The back of the man's head looks nothing like him. As always, Lottie says it's not what you see it's what you feel.

In New York, they went to more museums. She'd never been to The Met so he took her to The Met. It was partially a surprise. He said he wanted to take her somewhere and she wasn't shocked when they landed on The Met steps. She became obsessed with The Costume Institute and kept pointing at garments and shoes, saying, "I'd like you to buy something like that for me." As if Alex is able to obtain a 17th-century wool mantua and as if Lottie would wear it. She sometimes struggles to just wear a skirt.

They returned to London after that, had a week together, and then he left again. She joined him at other points in the tour. She flew with him to Australia, tour dates that were right after Christmas and took place on New Year's Eve. He said it would be bad luck to not be able to kiss one another and since she had never been to Australia, she left Franny with Alex's parents and joined him. 

Montreal is warm but not hot. It's the ideal temperature for walking. Lottie says he gets clinical about those things. She says he sounds like how she has always imagined a father to sound. He's concerned with weather patterns and the best route to get somewhere but struggles to use Google Maps. When he yells at the GPS directions someone else might take that as an overreaction but she laughs every time.

He grabs a coffee before he's driven to the hotel. He sips it quickly knowing that'll mean he will have to pee all day, but he needs it to stay on his feet. Then, he's at the hotel. It's nice, but modest looking. A place with room service but not an extravagant spa.

He opens the hotel room door and it looks empty minus a carry-on suitcase and the kid-sized suitcase they bought for Franny last Christmas. It's pink and has a rainbow butterfly printed on it. Franny fell in love with them when they went to Horniman Butterfly House and one landed on her arm. 

She tells everyone about that. She taps on the spot it landed on her and tells them a butterfly kissed her there. Whenever he sees butterfly or caterpillar imagery, he thinks of Franny. Chrysalis is his new favourite word. His notebook is covered in butterfly stickers. He knows what they eat, the different species, and that they can tell time. 

The bathroom door opens. Lottie stands, still in her pyjamas, smiling. "Oh, hi." She looks like she's just woken up. Her eyes are light and her smile feels like laying your head on a pillow after a long day of work. Her words are spoken with a crackle in them and her hair is occupied with fly-aways. 

He reaches out and pats them down. "Hi." Neither move closer. He holds her cheek in his hand and rubs his thumb along the bone. It feels like he is holding the weight of her. Her skin is blessed with a softness he has only felt elsewhere in Franny's cheeks. "Where's Franny?"

"Sleeping under that pile of blankets. She was cold last night."

"Flight okay?" He asks.

"Yeah. Yours?"

"Yeah." He smiles. "Kiss me."

He wants to feel her lips but doesn't want to move from holding her in any single way. It's perfect and it's smooth and this is all he needs. He'd stay and camp out in this hotel room as long as they didn't leave. He hates himself for ever wanting anything other than this.

When they part, he asks, "Should I wake her?"

Lottie pouts. "Am I no good?" She's needy and if he's been feeling lonely she's probably been feeling it tenfold. He gets to be with his best mates every day and her only freedom is her independent work. She would say he's feeling sorry for her when there's no need to be. She likes her work, she loves being with Francoise, and she has plenty of company in London. He tends to view her as a lone soul but she's had friends in London long before him.

Her bottom lip is jutting out towards him and he feels like a magnet is pulling his hips to her hips. "I don't think you're trying to be." His hand has fallen from one cheek to another. His thumb rubs her waist. She, of course, keeps her hands to herself.

"Sometimes I need attention too, you know." She pulls her face away but moves her hips closer.

He's falling over himself trying to get closer to her. "Yeah, I know how needy you are."

She rips herself away. It's either a game, a joke, or something to prove a point. He can't read that part of her. She goes further into the bathroom over to the sink where she is getting ready. "I'm not needy. You're needy."

That's always been the case. He begs. A lot. He got down on his knees once, placed his hands together, and begged at her knees. They were both laughing the whole time but he still wanted her all the same. 

He moves into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. "Maybe." He wants her. He wants her in every way. He wants to take her up against the sink from behind. He wants her on her knees. He wants to be on his knees. He wants her in the shower. He wants her on the floor. He'll take her to the toilet if he has to. "I missed you."

She brushes her hair and looks at him through the mirror. "Don't get all schmaltzy on me." Her smile quirks in the mirror, much like when they were held up in her Parisian apartment. They spent hours in glances. They felt as sexual as being inside one another. A look meant so much. 

He wishes she was naked now like that morning in January right before they found out she was pregnant. They slept naked. It used to be the only way they did sleep before they had to worry about a child climbing into bed with them. She'd get up and make coffee or tea, sometimes toast or a bagel and she'd never put a piece of cloth on her.

He used to feel so hunched over in his body, desperate to hide parts of himself from the morning light. But she didn't care, so why should he? He would get up behind her body and would be rubbing against her in such a sexual sense but never try anything. It was just nice to feel her skin on his. It felt the same as holding Franny for the first time. It was this precious thing that was somehow chosen to be his.

He'd kiss her shoulder and she'd pour him a cup of coffee. It felt like no one else in the world existed. He didn't want anyone else in the world to exist. It was Lottie and that was it. He hadn't felt that way with anything before, not even the projects he created. It made him believe in God in some way because there was no other way to explain how this worked out for him.

Lottie finds that to be dumb. She doesn't believe in soulmates. Probably because of her mother and the years of loneliness their family had. She doesn't like the idea of someone choosing for her. That there was some fate out of there deciding her every move. She finds it more romantic that two people found each other all by themselves. They worked through everything and made things work because they wanted to for each other. He agrees but still believes that they were shaped into puzzle pieces for each other.

Now, he comes up behind her in the same way. It's his way of reminding her. Remember this. Remember when it was just the two of us in a place smaller than this hotel room. Remember how nothing was between us.

She smirks, knowing what he is going for when his hands bring her butt into his groin. She lowers the brush from her hair and stares at him through the mirror. "What are you doing?"

He leans down and kisses her neck. He wishes she had more bare skin to kiss. "Being needy."

She turns around in his arms. She hooks her arm around his neck and slots her knee in between his legs. "It's too early for that."

He brushes his nose against hers. "It's never too early."

She sighs and lets go, returning to brushing her hair. "Not with Francoise in the next room."

He kisses her clothed shoulder. "Does that mean no sex at all?"

"Not now. Later," she promises. Her smirk tells him she wants it as badly as he does. It's like being a teenager and having to hide from your parents all over again. It reminds him of the excited feeling when the house was empty. Or when he got his first blowjob in the backseat of a car. It makes the idea of sex adventurous all over again. 

Well, except they're in their thirties, they have a kid to take care of, and he only sees her occasionally these days. It's awfully painful for his sex drive, always having to hit the brakes. The end is in sight. He can't wait to pull off the exit and get that blowjob.

"What do you want to do?" He asks.

"Get breakfast first. I only ate a bag of peanuts and a packet of Biscoffs yesterday."

"Why didn't you get dinner after you landed?"

"Too much work. She was already asleep by the time we got to the hotel." She has that habit. He worries she'll wither away one day. She just forgets to eat and then nighttime hits and she's beyond starving. It's something in her DNA and if he's not there she just won't bother with dinner.

"I'll get you a nice breakfast," he promises. He kisses the top of her head before sitting on the closed toilet seat. "What about after? Other than some art museum."

She turns around with a scowl. "Don't mock me."

"I'm not mocking you."

"I like things other than art, you know." She's sensitive about this. He's never gotten to the bottom of why she always feels he's making fun of her when it comes to her love of art. The passion she has for it inspires him. She's educated him and made him fall in love with it too. Still, she's on the defensive.

"Well, all I want to do is go to the art museum," Alex tells her as he slides off his shoes. 

She tosses a smile over her shoulder. She pats her hair down, sweeping it over her shoulders. He watches her and every slight movement she makes. Her legs are bare, she's wearing underwear, a shirt, and a smile. She taps each finger on the marble countertops before she walks over to him and sits on his lap.

Her arms curl around his neck and his arms around her waist. "If you believe me, I missed you."

Alex chuckles. "Yeah. I believe you."

She kisses him with a tight hold. She hops off his lap. "I think you can wake her now. I'm too hungry to wait."

He stands up and kisses her cheek. "Alright, then."

Franny sleeps with these quiet snores. They're cute, not the kind that prevents sleep, the kind that soothes sleep. Her mouth is in a small 'o' shape. Her head hangs back and her hair hangs in two braids, rustled from travelling and sleep.

She likes sleeping more than anything. She whines when anyone wakes her up and clings to the blankets for dear life. Alex's hand covers her back. She's bigger now but still so small. He gives her a light rub, rattling her awake. She groans just like Alex does and rubs her eyes.

"Stop," she tells him.

He chuckles. "Come on, Fran."

Her eyes pop open. Usually, they flutter like those butterflies. She can be slow-moving like a sloth but today she pops up like a rabbit and starts jumping on the bed. "Maman, you were right!" She shouts. Lottie always reminds her, "One sleep until you see papa."

Lottie insists Franny looks like him. Alex knows she's just being polite. She looks exactly like Lottie, besides her hair. Her face is still so small. He can't bear to think of the day she grows old enough to not fit just under his hand. It's getting harder for him to pick her up. Maybe he's the one getting too old with the slight strain in his back.

Franny collapses on top of him, tugging on his neck. He finds himself laughing, so overjoyed by her excitement. "I love planes," she tells him. "Are we going on another one?" That's the best outcome they could have asked for. 

Franny is scared of a lot of things. She grew out of her fear of the vacuum earlier this year, but she's still terrified of thunderstorms, monsters under the bed, Snow White, and grapes (they are still unsure of the origin of the latter). He feels bad for liking it when she has bad dreams because she'll wake them up, usually by tugging one of their hands, and ask to climb in bed with them. They slot her in the middle and that's when he feels they are truly a family. He always wishes to protect them.

They go to a cafe near Mount Royal Park and the Museum of Fine Arts. Franny insists on sitting next to Alex in the booth. Lottie is across from them, on her own little island as she puts it. She looks down at the menu, her hair cascading around her. She brushes one side behind her ear. Alex stares at her, rather than his menu.

Franny tugs on his arm. She got a mean pull for a kid who is only four. "Will you order for me?" He's comforted by this, knowing that while she has grown, for now, she's still his tiny little girl who gets nervous talking to strangers like their waiter. 

Her hair is in fresh braids. Lottie told him that for the past month that's the way she's insisted on wearing her hair. She's got these overalls on. Blue denim with a sunflower embroidered on the front. Underneath she has a white shirt with purple short sleeves, her favourite colour. She smiles up at him, hoping to charm him into getting her all the treats she wants. She still has all her baby teeth, even though she desperately wants to lose one so the tooth fairy will visit her.

"Can you order for me too?" His other girl requests. Lottie is resting her head on her hand. There's pink in her cheeks and a smile that doesn't show her teeth, something she's still insecure about. Her two front teeth are crooked, turned slightly inward toward the other. It's unnoticeable unless you stare at it for an extended period of time. Everyone calls it cute but she says that it's a clear sign she grew up poor.

She wears a white linen blouse that was made for breezy weather. The front of it hangs open enough that he can see the charm of her two necklaces, one with a small blue pendant, the other with St. Michael. Her shoes have a slight heel to them. She jokes that they wear the same shoes, although he would like to point out that they are different sizes.

Lottie gets two eggs and a chocolate crepe, Franny gets waffles, Alex gets another coffee and Franny's leftovers. He cuts her waffles for her because she still hasn't mastered the grip of a knife. He tries to sneak a bite of Lottie's crepe but she slaps his hand away. "Get your own."

Right after they relocated to London and all of Lottie's things mixed with all of Alex's things, they had the question of possession. In other words, he learned Lottie likes to claim things. They shared shirts, kitchen utensils, and shampoo, but while Alex lost track of what fork was originally owned by who, Lottie still refers to things as yours and mine. 

Her possessive pronoun usage was exact. She calls the bed they share your bed, she calls their dining table my table. When she was further along in her pregnancy and refused to buy ugly maternity clothes, she took to wearing more of his clothes. It only lasted for about a month. She's a tad smaller than him but he's no six-foot giant. She still wears some of his jeans to this day and will say, "I'm going to wear your jeans" just like she did back at the hotel.

He doesn't know why she does this. Maybe because English is her second language or she spent her whole childhood getting hand-me-downs from her brother. Either way, what once confused him, now is just amusing. It might be his favourite of her quirks.

"On the plane ride here, Francoise and I watched Toy Story 2," Lottie says to him, but she's prompting Franny to talk. Franny's quiet and keeps to herself. He recognizes that to be a quality she inherited from him. She often hesitates but she differs from him. Once you give her permission to talk, she rambles.

"What'd you think, Fran?" He asks.

She finishes chewing her waffle. She's a proper young lady. "I liked it a lot. It was funny, it was scary. I liked Jessie the best but I want a Woody doll or a piggy bank. I can put my tooth fairy money in there. I don't think my toys come to life. They're too lazy. But it was a good movie. Maman cried but I didn't. I still give it a thumbs up." She gestures the thumbs up with a head shake before returning to her waffle bits.

Alex contains his laughter. "I'll have to see it then, especially if it made maman cry."

"Shush," Lottie signals.

"We can watch it tonight!" Franny suggests with a big smile.

Lottie answers for him, "We're going to papa's concert tonight, remember?"

"Oh, yeah!" She excitedly tosses her head back and forth. Her braids jiggle around like two jump ropes playing a game of double Dutch. "I like your concerts."

It's a genuine compliment, Franny still doesn't know how to give fake ones. She told him after the first show she saw that she found him to be too loud and that they should turn the volume down. Still, she danced around like the music was being played just for her. She's never been to any other concerts and says she wants to go to more.

For her third birthday, Lottie gifted Franny a toy microphone. She didn't like it and handed it to Alex instead because he'd use it. Franny doesn't like singing or the guitar or even banging on drums. She doesn't like loud things.

She's quiet and conserves her energy. She likes the flowers they grow in the backyard. She likes to paint with her maman. She likes doing somersaults in the grass. She likes the smell of honey. She would one day like to bake cookies by herself, but she's too young to turn on the oven. She's a flower child.

They walk over to the Fine Art Museum, Franny swinging between them. "You know, this is the oldest art museum in Canada," Lottie says.

Alex nods. "I did my research."

Lottie rolls her eyes, convinced he's pulling her leg. "You did not."

"Yes, I did." Alex quickly nods. "I got one of those Blue Planet books."

Still not believing him, she says, "No, you did not." He snorts at her jaw dropped open, the disbelief smothering her face.

"How else would I know where Leonard Cohen is buried?"

"'Cause you're a dork."

He's baffled at the accusation, tapping his chest. "I'm a dork?" This is coming from the woman who has a membership at nearly every art museum in London despite the majority of them being free. 

"I'm a dork," Franny cheers. She eases tensions. She came along so early in their relationship that it's hard to judge how their dynamic would have developed without Franny. Alex has no doubt they'd still be together but things would be different without her.

He imagines Lottie would join him for more legs of the tour if they didn't have to worry about Franny, but that's probably not true. Lottie has a job that she's passionate about. She's more filled with drive and love for it than he has seen anyone else in any other profession. She loves observing art, she loves writing about art, she loves creating art.

They'd probably still be in Paris. Lottie agreed to move to London because Alex had a larger living situation there that would fit a growing family. Her boss had friends in London that he recommended Lottie for, allowing her to make the move.

He knows she longs for it. London isn't her favourite. But Franny loves it and Alex loves being home and she's willing to make that sacrifice for them. He worries that he's allowed her to give up so much. One day she'll see that she's let go of things she's loved for him and she'll hate him for it. They've fought about it before. They'll probably fight about it again. 

But she does love it there. She loves their house and their neighborhood. She loves that she's four blocks away from Leah and on the corner of their street is her favourite bakery. She loves the London art scene and she loves that she has enough space to make her art. She loves the way people admire her slight French accent and finds her to be cool from that alone. She hasn't felt cool most of her life.

However, he knows she misses her mother. She has friends in Paris that she rarely sees now. She only speaks her mother tongue to their four-year-old. For that, he'll always feel guilty.

"I've always wanted to go to Monet's garden," Lottie says as they stand in front of A Cliff at Pourville in the Morning. "It's only about an hour outside Paris, in Giverny, yet I never went."

Franny's eyes gaze up at the painting completely lost in it. She's getting to the age when she understands the beauty in these things. She'll marvel at it and understand the gravity of what is in front of her. Or she's just copying her mother, she likes doing that too.

"We can go when we go to Paris in December," he offers. 

"It's closed in the winter."

He can't control the weather and yet it feels like he should be able to. He wants so badly to give her what she wants but it feels like it falls flat all the time. Every gesture falls at her feet with a disappointed thud. A gift she is forced to fix all the broken pieces he created.

Lottie bends down to Franny's ear. She grabs her arms, holding her in place. "Do you like this one?"

She rapidly nods her head.

"It's an exchange between the ocean and the sky," she talks to Franny like she's an adult. "The fleeting beauty of dawn before day sweeps it all away." Alex doubts Franny knows what dawn is but she nods along enthusiastically.

They move quickly, not soaking in nearly enough art as he's sure Lottie would want. They have a tight schedule before they have to be at the venue. He'd apologize for it but he knows she'll be more annoyed by that than actually having to leave the museum. 

They take a walk through Mount Royal Park. Lottie takes pictures of Franny as she goes up the Grand Staircase. Franny taps her shoe on each stair. She likes to hear it knock against the wood, the crick each step makes. She stands proudly at the top of the stairs with her hands proudly tugging on her overall straps. You'd think she climbed the mountain itself with how much pride she and her parents have.

She doesn't like to walk on the established path, so she decides to walk ahead of her parents on the grass. Alex walks with his hands in his pockets. Lottie walks with her tote bag over her shoulder and a light-knit black sweater in case it gets cold (it never does).

"Does it remind you of France?" Alex asks.

"Um." She thinks for a moment, looking around at the greenery. "No." She doesn't explain further and Alex doesn't ask for more. "Does it remind you of France?"

Alex chuckles. "You'd know better than me."

She shrugs. "Maybe I'm too snobbish or too filled with nostalgia to decide whether this does measure up with France."

"A little, but maybe it's just the French part."

"You gonna go se branler in the bushes?"

He tosses his head back. "Hush."

She giggles and moves closer to him, knocking shoulders with him. "I think Francoise likes it more than either of us." The little girl is examining flowers, sprouting between the grass and the concrete. She doesn't pluck one, just looks at it from all angles.

"I wish I had an attention span like both of you," Alex says. He tries for both of them but staring at a painting as long as Lottie does is a near-impossible task. Franny has inherited all of those traits. He loves it, but there's no way he can do it.

Lottie curls her arm around him. "You have other talents." 

He raises an eyebrow. "Like?"

"We are going to your sold-out concert, Al. There's no need to be modest."

"I'm not trying to be."

She smiles. "I know." She brushes the side of his head, pushing back his hair off of his forehead. "You have blinders on to all your achievements. You forget that you're the most talented person I know."

He scoffs. "Don't lie to me."

"You don't have to believe me. Just think of all the people that are probably jealous of you."

He tosses his head from side to side. That convinces him. She giggles and kisses his cheek.

Leonard Cohen's grave is covered in small stones. Some are painted, some have writing on them, some are blank. It's weird. It's someone he's admired all of his adult life and he's right in front of him, buried in the ground. He doesn't think about death much, but he's thinking about it now.

He hasn't been to many cemeteries. Lottie has been to more than she can count. France is covered in them. She used to walk through Cimetière du Père-Lachaise with her mother every Saturday, finding a new corner of it. Her mother also had a thing for Jim Morrison.

Alex wonders if they should have brought Franny here. If she knows enough about life and death to understand what stands before her. As always, she's well-behaved, admiring the sculptures that stand above the gravestones. 

Cohen is buried with three generations of his family. He thinks that's what he'd like. He'd like to be buried in the same coffin as Lottie, disintegrate into one another. That would probably disgust her. She hates the smell of fish. He can't imagine how she'd react to rotting flesh.

Still, he thinks about losing this one day. He'd like to go before her, of course. He probably couldn't function without her. Poor Franny would have to take care of him, remind him of his appointments, tell him to take his meds, and remind him that the sun still exists. So, he'll go first. He smokes and drinks more than her anyway so it'll probably work out that way. He should stop thinking about this now. 

"You want to go to the Basilica now?" He asks her. 

She smiles softly. It feels like a kiss upon his soul. A blessing he feels so lucky to receive. "Sure."

The bus is close to empty but they sit in the back because Franny likes that it's higher than the rest of the bus. She used to like sitting on one of their laps when riding public transit but she doesn't like that now. She likes to be viewed as a big girl but she wants to sit between her parents so she can touch both of them.

She rests her head on Lottie's shoulder. She's growing tired of all this walking. They aren't doing funny little kid things here but he promises that they'll do it in Boston. Lottie already plans to have fancy afternoon tea at the Boston Public Library, which Franny is already super excited about.

The altar of the basilica is centered by a golden Jesus. The spires strain Lottie's neck as she gazes up at them. He tries to figure out what the wood carving below Jesus is for so long until Lottie tells him it's a high relief of the Last Supper. His eyesight is getting pretty bad.

The spiral staircases captivate Franny. She wants to climb and descend them, waving her hand like she's a royal. Alex wants to know about the organs. There are thousands of pipes, varying from some of the tiniest he's ever seen to the biggest. He's definitely a dork.

He leans next to Lottie's ear and whispers, "They've got some big pipes here."

She laughs in anticipation. "Don't you dare make a sex joke in a church."

Alex contains his laughter. "Wouldn't be the first time."

They walk along the St. Lawrence River because Lottie likes the water and Franny likes quays with ships docked in them. She becomes occupied in her own world. She likes running ahead but not out of sight. She's too well-behaved, it's strange.

Alex holds Lottie's hand. "If I die—"

"Jesus, Al!" She drops his hand, already shaming him for bringing it up. "I don't like talking about that."

"Fine, if you die—"

"Stop it."

"It's a serious question. I'm curious."

She frowns and crosses her arms. "Fine."

"Would you want to be buried in Paris?"

She shakes her head. "I don't want to talk about this now."

"Okay."

Franny tugs on his hand. He looks down and she pats her stomach. "I'm hungry."

They walk down Saint-Paul Street, stopping at a place called Modavie because Franny likes the live jazz music that's flooding out onto the streets. The kind they listened to when they were building the crib in what would be Franny's room. Well, he built the crib, Lottie yelled the instructions at him.

The room was painted lemon and the rocking chair in the corner was an old wood with a pink seating pad. It had been the same chair Lottie was rocked to sleep in. They never used it; instead, they always sat out on the couch. They finally got some use out of it when Franny was old enough to climb in on her own and rock it back and forth.

While Franny said she was hungry, it's actually Alex, who had only eaten scraps of waffles and two coffees. The place is too nice for a quick meal before the show but it's French and he likes the sound of lamb chops. Franny gets calamari because she likes the pronunciation and she's had it before so they know she won't hate it. Lottie gets mussels and fries because Brussels.

Lottie orders for them in French. The waiter says something back to her that makes her laugh but Alex has no clue. He's tried to learn more but he hasn't practiced on the road. It's not his fault his own private tutor won't come with him.

They don't talk. It's far too loud to hear each other over the music, which is nice, but he'd prefer conversation over it. Lottie leans over and whispers straight into his ear, "I bet you she likes this more than your show."

He turns to speak into her ear. His skin brushes against hers. His stubble scratches her jawbone and his lips lightly touch her earlobe. "Yeah, this one has food and mine will be 'too loud.'"

Lottie turns back to his ear. "It's good. I want her to protect her ears." Alex agrees but he's almost certain this jazz band will do more damage to her ears than his band. Their table is right near the stage. Her ears are so close to the saxophone.

Franny pops calamari into her mouth so quickly he worries she'll choke. Granted, he does inhale the lamb chops. Lottie hasn't even had a fry yet by the time he's finished. He snags one of them and she allows it. She then drops a mussel shell into his lap just because she wants to see him squirm. (He does and she giggles almost as loud as the music).

They take the metro to the venue, Bell Centre, or Centre Belle as Lottie calls it because she's French and difficult. The second they step on the platform and wait for the 2 train Alex asks, "Is there something special about Montreal trains I should know?" He speaks quietly so as to not expose his shame.

He truly never got the hang of the doors of Paris's Metro. Either it took him too many tries to open or his arm would get ripped off, eventually, he refused to do it and forced Lottie to do it every time or they wouldn't get off the train. She'd laugh hysterically. 

The last time they were there and Lottie was sad they were leaving, Alex opened the door to cheer her up. He tripped and almost fell face-first on the platform. Suddenly, Lottie wasn't so upset anymore.

Now, she laughs at his question. "I don't know. I've never been here before."

"We'll just have Francoise take care of everything," he says.

She smiles and leans her head on his shoulder as they wait. Franny is holding his hand. He doesn't care how long the train takes. This is a nice place to be.

When it comes powering through the station, Franny jumps up and down, beyond excited by the mode of transport. The doors automatically open and Franny leads the way, hopping on the train. She sits on Alex's lap because it's only two seats per row and she doesn't want anyone to be separated. She kicks her feet out and the heel of her shoes beats against his shins.

"These are sleek," Lottie says while looking around the train car.

"Much nicer than London," he says. Lottie rolls her eyes. "What?" He asks.

"This is what happens with a French regime," she says.

He makes an amused noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "What? Nicer subways?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. What was Toronto's metro like?"

"I didn't go on it," he says. "Are we comparing French imperialism and British imperialism right now?"

"No, I'm just saying it's a nice subway."

"Okay."

It's silent between them for a moment. Another train whooshes past and they stop at Station Côte-Vertu. Once the doors close and the train sets in motion again Lottie says, "Not everything is a jab against you."

His eyes widen. He didn't think they were fighting. He needs to be more aware of his tone. Lottie tells him that all the time. "I never said it was."

She rolls her eyes and turns away, looking out the window. He stares at her. She reflects onto the window, her soul staring back at him. He's thinking of her blue bandana and those sunglasses that she used to hide herself with. He thinks of that saddle bag. All those saddlebags that have been left behind in Paris like shedding a piece of who she used to be. 

She is every version she's ever been right in front of his eyes. He knows every stretch of her. He memorized it long ago back when they were in Brussels. He was dumb then but he knew that there would be a chance he'd never see her again. So, he brushed his finger on every nanometer of her and swore he would remember it. Has she forgotten that? He's overthinking, he knows. Besides—

"This is our stop," she says. 

They walk off the train and up the metro steps. They make it one block before she tells him at a red traffic light, "I'm going to go to the cathedral for a bit."

It's clearly not an invitation for him to come. "Okay."

"You keep Francoise," she requests. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course."

She bends down and kisses Franny's cheek. She rises to his level and does the same. It's rushed. She says her goodbyes as she tries to make it across the street before the light changes. "I'll see you in an hour."

Then, it's just Franny's hand in his. She tugs on it. "Dad. The light's green."

He nods. "Right." They make their way across the street and Lottie isn't in view anymore, already ducked in Mary, Queen of the World Cathedral. He wonders if Lottie ever prays. She's not religious—that was beaten out of her by the nuns at her Catholic school—but she loves all places of worship. He knows this comes from being an aesthete but something about the Catholics always draws her back. He'll have to ask her.

Franny skips through the venue halls. "It's big."

"Yeah."

"It's bigger than me."

"I think it might be." 

He picks her up and she's squealing and flinging her arms and legs around. He made those legs and arms, well, half of her, maybe just the right arm and left leg. Still, it hits him sometimes just as hard as the way her heels kick against him.

He releases her and she goes off giggling. He can't tell if she enjoyed today or not. She enjoyed it enough not to complain about it, which is a relief to him. She can whine. She may be well-behaved and not throw tantrums but she's still four and has a habit of whining and crying and tugging on his arm until he gives in because he always seems to give in.

Franny hangs out backstage while they do soundcheck. He comes back to her drawing with crayons on a coffee table and sipping on a juice box. Lottie still isn't back. He squats down to sit on the couch with the crack of his knees. "Whatcha working on, lady?"

She lifts up the paper featuring a purple creation resembling a butterfly. "I'm not finished."

His grin is unstoppable. He loves all these little creations. They're plastered all around their home from her first work (her handprints) to the latest craze (butterflies). He'll have to make sure this one is packed away safely. "I'm liking it so far."

Alex leans back and watches her. The stroke of her crayon is wild and unstoppable but somehow lands in the form of butterfly wings. She stops, takes a sip of her juice box, and asks, "Are you ever coming home?" 

His eyebrows jump and an ache hangs upon his heartstrings. This has gone on too long, he's known this. He knows Lottie shields him from this. It's impossible that Franny doesn't ask why he's gone for so long or that she misses him. "Yeah. In about a month. I'm sorry."

She shrugs and continues drawing. "It's fine. I like mummy a lot."

There's remorse in his smile, but he tells her, "Me too." He can't remember the last time he and Franny were alone together like this. There were plenty of times at home when it was just the two of them but he can't recall the last time the two went somewhere together. Every museum, every playdate, every grocery trip has been handled by Lottie. He can't remember the last time Lottie did something by herself.

It makes him want to slap himself like no shit, not everything is about you. Except it kind of is. He has been the reason she hasn't gotten a moment to herself. She locks things behind a door and says what's going on behind the door is so much fun, but he's never been on the other side of the door so he doesn't know the full truth.

"What juice are you drinking?" He asks.

Franny holds the box up. Elmo faces him with wide arms and a big, wide-open-mouthed smile. "Apple. Want some?" She walks over with the box and holds it out to him.

He almost says no but she pushes it toward him, willing him to take it. His mouth covers the tiny straw and he can't remember the last time he had apple juice but Elmo has good taste. "You can have the rest," she decides. Franny leaves the box with him and trots back to her drawing station.

"Thanks, Fran." He continues to sip on it. The tiny size of it and his hands back him feel like when Franny was a baby. It makes him remember Franny still is a baby and he should savour this time rather than worrying about not having that time back. 

He leans his elbows on his knees and drinks the juice. The taste makes him think of his childhood home and how his mum used to give out apple juice boxes whenever his friends came over. Now, well, he's still drinking them.

"Hitting the hard stuff?" Lottie asks as she walks in. She looks brighter as if she went to the beach and got a tan. She's joking, she's smiling, she sits right next to Franny and kisses her left cheek and then her right cheek from behind.

Alex chuckles and places the empty box on the table. "Just trying to calm the nerves. How was the cathedral?"

Her cheeks look like they ache. "It was lovely. The statues, the paintings, the cupola. I'll show you pictures later."

It makes him nearly as happy as her, though that doesn't seem possible to meet. "That's great. I'm excited."

Lottie wraps her arms around Franny's stomach and hugs her back to her chest. "No you're not," she brushes off, looking down at Franny's paper.

He furrows his brows. "I'm not lying."

She looks up, smiles, and does a single nod. "Okay."

Alex can't see them when he's onstage. He imagines they are either dancing or Franny has fallen asleep. He tries not to think about it much when he's playing. It makes him too nervous. He feels the need to be impressive and grab their attention. Plus, if he messes up and falls on his face in front of Lottie she'll make fun of him forever. She'll mock him later anyway.

After the first show she went to on the tour, she stood up on the bed with a bare chest, only wearing his boxers, and started imitating him with a crooner voice and all. Her impersonations aren't just for the present day. In the shower, she'll comb her hair back to look like she's slapped a pound of gel in it and do a horrible impression of him in 2013. She can't sing so it's pretty funny to watch.

When the show ends he waits for them by Franny's purple butterfly drawing. They open the door with Lottie giving Franny a piggyback ride and Franny shouting, "You were great!"

"Really?" He asks, hands on his hips as they reach him. He grabs Franny and holds her on his hip. Her braids have been messed with like she was thrashing in a mosh pit.

"You weren't too loud or quiet. Just right!" She emphasizes her opinion with her hands, adding punctuation with each word.

"Well, thank you, Goldilocks." Alex's eyes shift to Lottie. "Mama bear?"

Lottie wrinkles her nose. "Ew, don't call me that." She cackles loudly as if he's the first person who has ever told her a joke. "You were lovely. Very energetic but not overtly."

He's not sure what she exactly means but he takes it with a chuckle. He takes a big yawn, throwing his head back for extra emphasis. He looks at the little girl. "I'm tired. Are you tired, Franny?" 

Lottie makes a pointed look at him. "Francoise, remember?"

"Francoise," he corrects.

Franny giggles and clutches his neck tightly. "You guys are funny."

"Francoise." Alex pops her on his hips, making her laugh more. "What do you think about hanging with Matt and Amanda?"

She shrugs. "I guess so. They want to be my friends soooooo badly."

Lottie has to turn around her as laughter bursts out of her, lips flapping, and in desperate need of taking a deep breath. Alex turns his face to the side, not wanting to laugh straight into Franny's face.

"What?" Franny questions, having no idea of the hilarity of her words.

Lottie covers her mouth as she looks back. Her words come out muffled as she says, "Nothing, honey. You'll have a great time with them."

Alex can't control himself and has to place Franny down in order to contain his laughter. Franny ends up running over to Matt and tugging on his arm saying how excited she is to hang out like they're two guys getting beers together.

On the ride back to the hotel, Lottie nearly falls asleep against the window. She would have if the van hadn't hit a speed bump and knocked her head up against the glass. She walks into the hotel hanging off his side. She bends down and hugs Franny good night before bidding farewell to the rest of the group and escaping into their hotel room where she promptly rushes into the room, kicks off her shoes, and takes her clothes off.

"Geez," Alex says at the sight. "Are you rushing to bed or just excited to see me?"

She moves over to him and kisses him full on the lips. He nearly falls over. His arms flailing at his sides. He feels like he's hallucinating from exhaustion. "Excited to see you." She's unlatching her bra and throwing it at him. The sight of naked boobs should arouse him but leaves him as perplexed as when a woman threw a bra at him in Athens.

"Alrighty. Were you not just about to fall asleep two seconds ago?"

She rolls her eyes, sits on the edge of the bed, and takes off her socks. "It's called putting on a show, Alex," she says to him like he's their four-year-old daughter.

"Right."

"If Francoise thinks I'm tired, she will believe she should be tired. She fully believes my bedtime is 8:30 and that I don't stay up watching television until midnight. It works every time so you should work on your tired look for the next time."

Alex blinks slowly, still fully dressed. "I am tired."

"Oh." She's sitting in her underwear. She sits up straight and crosses her arms. "So, you didn't pawn off our daughter to have sex with me."

"Well," he sheds his jacket and tosses it on the sofa chair, "I never said that. I'm not an idiot."

She smirks and stands up. "I know." She turns her back to him and slowly begins to pull off her panties. Alex rushes to grab her hips and do it himself. He crashes into her, forcing a giggle out of her and landing them flat on the housekeeping-made bed. "Stop. You're gonna break one of my ribs."

He lifts himself, allowing her to breathe again. He stands up and begins to remove clothing items starting with his shoes. Lottie flips her body to look straight at him while he does this. She bites her thumbnail like she needs something between her teeth while she waits for him.

She then takes him off guard, "Do you jerk off?"

He's kicking his trousers off when she asks this, stopping with them pooling around his ankles. "Why do you want to know?"

She shrugs. "I'm just curious. That's all." There's something more to it because if Lottie there's always something more. She's made with ulterior motives.

Alex steps out of his pants. He smirks as he stands over her. His penis hanging near her cunt. "You want me to jerk off."

"What?" She awkwardly giggles. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't," she insists. "I was just curious if you had time for that kind of thing."

He chuckles at her. "Lot, I've got plenty of time to se branler."

She reaches out to slap his stomach, right above his evidence. "Shut up. What kind of foreplay is this?"

Alex stares at her in disbelief. "You asked the question!"

"Did you forget how to have sex? Is that how long we've been apart?"

He rolls his eyes. And just to see her squirm he asks, "Do you watch porn?"

Her jaw drops. "Shut up!" After that, he does because it's much more fun to fuck your wife than to talk about fucking your wife.

The first time they had sex after having Franny, Lottie wanted to go slow. It was foreign and sore and filled with uncertainty for the first time in their relationship. But it was a lovely affair, a reunion of sorts. 

This is different. It's a reunion but it's quick and attacking. He feels like they're a step away from eating each other (and not in the eating out kind of way). He's in her and they're together on the edge of the bed, their feet hanging off onto the floor, but neither makes a move to decide whether they should fuck on the bed or the floor.

And they're embarrassingly loud. Or at least she is. He can't keep track of himself. All he knows is he's moaning in her ear and the volume could be a small whisper or a full release. It's like when they were stuck in her Paris apartment that was so tiny you had to fuck in such a confined space and it might have been the hottest sex they ever had because of that.

He feels sweaty for the first time that night. Her hands are grasping on his shoulders, imprinting fingernail crescent cuts. He pushes his mouth directly next to her ear. "What if we had another baby?"

She pushes him up off of her chest, desperate for air, for some release from this heat. "You carry it." Yeah, he probably shouldn't be asking for things like that. He's barely been around this past year for the one they already have.

"Sorry," he pathetically mumbles.

She's not listening. She's busy getting ready to come. "Just fuck me." She's sick of him. He's convinced. 

But at least he can fuck her. He knows he's good at that with the way she moves, arches, and clamps around him. She pushes him back further and tells him, "Jerk off now."

He listens, obedient as always to her orders, and pulls out. He would have come on the carpet, completely unsure of where to dispose of himself, but she gets down on her knees and opens her mouth. He moves closer. "Don't put it in my mouth," she says.

He lays the tip on her bottom lip, which seems to be okay with her. His fist is quick because he feels he'll burst into flames at the sight of her right now if he doesn't come into her mouth. So, he does. It takes him a while to relax and he's unsure if she swallows it or spits it into the wastebasket.

Lottie throws her hair up and stretches her back in front of him, bending back and forward. He feels old all the time, it rarely registers that she's the same age as him. She’s getting older too. She's more youthful than him, that's for sure. There's a reason women live longer than men. 

She laughs at him still catching his breath as she hides herself under the blankets, waiting for him. "Come here," she reaches out.

He straightens out. "I'm coming. I'm coming."

She curls her lips, refraining from the sex joke. He stretches out on his stomach beside her. She has to tuck him in. It's cozy and soft. She moves him like a doll by grabbing his arm and curling it over her stomach. He moves closer and lies his head on his shoulder, brushing his nose against her jugular.

She moves down and even with his eyes closed he feels her eyes gazing at him. Her breath is so close to his. The tip of her nose carefully brushes his. "I missed you."

He slowly opens his eyes. He longs for her so much. He doesn't think he could've survived another day without her. She's as necessary as food and water. It's a hunger and a desire but it's sustenance and nourishment. Yet, he chose to starve himself. "I'm sorry for doing this to you."

She grows concerned, shifting over to her side. Her brows furrow and she is completely lost. She puts her hand on his upper arm, rubbing it in a soothing manner. "Doing what?"

"Being away. Being absent. Taking things away from you."

She shakes her head with confusion. "You gave me my whole life, Al."

"I gave you a whole different life."

"I'm quite happy with the life I have," she assures him. He goes through phases like this before where he covers himself in self-doubt. But this is different. There's a reason to be concerned because it's hard to question what is in front of your eyes, it's easy to question what you don't see.

"You've given up too much, Lot."

She doesn't refute him. She looks around but doesn't make eye contact with him. She's thinking. She gives his arm a squeeze to calm him. "I'm a very lucky girl." She hesitates before deciding to tell him the truth, "But I sometimes get jealous of you. I give in to you a lot and it's my own decision. You didn't force me into this. I'm going to spend my whole life missing out on things but I don't want to miss out on you. Believe me, I'm very happy right now."

She curls closer to him, needing the comfort, needing the love, needing him. He tries to soothe her the best you can. "I'm gonna take care of you for the rest of my life."

"I believe you."

He's never been great at compromise. He's gotten his way. Lottie gives in. She's the one willing to give things up. It's his turn. It should have been from the beginning. "Do you want to move to Paris?"

She gives him a small smile and a light shake of the head. "I just want you to come home."

"We should spend every summer in Paris. Get a little place there."

"I have work," she points out.

He groans and falls on his back. "Fuck work."

She giggles and lands on top of his chest, lying there. "I appreciate the sentiment though."

Alex brushes her arm. "I'm going to give you what you want. I promise. I'll learn French, I swear."

She kisses his cheek, a smile placed on his skin. "Thank you. I just want us all to be back in our home."

It grows quiet, both just feeling the other's presence, relaxing into it for the first time in forever. Her skin is so soft and her body is a comforting warmth on his skin. A feeling he's felt since the first night he slept beside her. They keep each other close because there's no other way of doing it.

Lottie breaks through the quiet. "Are we going to sleep naked?"

He grins with closed lips and turns to her. "Like the good ol' days."

"Something like it."

He squeezes her butt and she teases the skin around his dick but never touches it. They fall asleep a half hour later. He always thought it was bullshit that people slept better in the presence of someone else but it's true.

Then, there's a knock at the door. He awakes before the noise gets to Lottie. The room is dark and he stubs his toe on one of the bed's legs. He manages to find boxers to throw on before opening the door. It's early and he might be sleepwalking. His eyes squint and he manages to make out the sight of Matt with Franny in his arms.

"What's wrong?" Franny is curled into Matt's shoulder so peaceful looking that she could almost be asleep but she clearly isn't. Her eyes stare straight at him.

Matt looks tired. He's in his pyjamas too. "Bad dream. Sorry for waking you but she's too scared and I just thought..."

Not wanting to trouble Matt more, he reaches out and takes Franny from him. She grabs his neck so tightly she's almost choking him. "Don't worry. Thanks. Sorry about all this."

Matt shakes his head and pats Alex's arm before shuffling his feet back to his own room.

Alex quietly closes the door as best as he can. He whispers to Franny, "You okay?"

"Just don't leave," Franny tells him.

He rubs his hand up her back, holding her the same way he used to burp her. "I'm right here," he reminds her. She squeezes him tightly just to make sure. He reciprocates, holding him close to him. "Mum's still asleep."

She nods against his neck. "I'll be quiet. Swear."

"I know you will." He carries her to their bed, lying her between them. Her arms stay curled around him. He rubs his hand up and down in the hope she will fall asleep before he does.

"I'm happy you're here," she whispers to him.

He smiles because for once he is here. "Me too."

*

a/n: did not think it would be this long. i didn't think i'd ever write another part to this but i wrote the first 3k words in pencil on random sheets of paper and then the rest just happened. i hope it translates well.

[midnightrain-and-cleandays]

Born wicked(my thoughts/ analysis on wicked)

Hello everyone! So a couple of days back I asked if yall would like my thoughts on Wicked and alot of you said yess sooo here we are. Now before we start i do wanna say i will also be doing an analysis in this post. Because as someone who has spent years in the hannibal fandom i have had multiple conversations with people about the analysis of the show so of course i have to bring that into this post so let’s begin and hopefully you guys enjoy!.

I first remember watching the movie, it had such a great first impression on me, i’ve seen alot of musical movies and this one was of my favorite movie musicals i’ve seen.

It has so much depth and deep meaning to it and after learning more about it im genuinely so impressed by how they did this movie, there are four scenes in the movie that kind show how much detail they put into this movie.

1. Is elphie and Glinda first meeting and glinda saying she doesn’t care what people think and elphie calling her out saying yes you do.

2. Which goes into scene two where we get the OZdust scene where when everyone is watching Elphie dance we see feiryo say “she doesn’t care what people think “ and glinda says “yes she does “

This is one of my all time favorite parallels because of multiple reasons, in several instances throughout the movie we see how much Glinda does definitely care what people think specially while at shiz everyone loves her, she has two people who follow her everywhere and specially because in the scene where Glinda is getting ready for the OZdust scene and the Hat is brought out and one of her friends point out how it’s “ugly “ she is suddenly trying to find an excuse as to why she has it.

Elphie reasons is so completely different, she always been over looked specially by her family, and the only way she really got attention was when she was supposed to look over NessaRoes. Then she gets to Shiz and suddenly all eyes are on her, but for the wrong reasons and along with the “wizard and i” scene, in the song we hear what Elphie truly dreams of and how desperately she wishes to be seen, how she wants to do good and how she wishes people could look past her green skin and genuinely see the good person she is.

Thats where we get back to the OZdust ball room scene and we get to the dance scene, and in that scene we start to see where Glinda and Elphie kinda don’t care what people think. Specially Glinda, this is one scene where she truly doesn’t care this one time even when her friends try and stop her and she still does the dance anyway.

Next is the defying gravity scene and the deleted scene where Elphie promises to not leave Glinda behind again.

In the defying gravity scenes we see them fighting and we saw them almost escaping together. Elphie kept her promise…till Glinda was the one we broke it, she couldn’t go with Elphaba and she had her reasons, we can speculate those and why she didn’t go. But in the end it was Glinda who broke that promise.

Those are just four scenes that add (and would add) so much depth to the movie, I genuinely love everything about it from the acting to the little details, specially the shoes that nessa gets at the beginning of the movie, in the original book the shoes weren’t red they were silver and I loved how they showed both pairs of shoes.

I also loved how even the second time you watch it you catch more than the first time you watched it. The movie has so much emotion and love put into it as well as thought, i also loved how they sung live, it makes the movie feel more real.

I genuinely felt it was a smart decision todo such a thing, and in all honesty I don’t think it would’ve done so well if they hadn’t of sung live. Of course they would’ve done amazing but not like they would have of they hadn’t of sung live.

So inclusion, this movie has a genuine 10/10 from me and one of my favorite 2024 movies, now that it’s out on streaming I would give it watch again (which i will be doing) and I would definitely recommend it to anyone interested in it.