#this man needs to use some hair products so we see more of his luscious curls 😍

[jherbo10]

Justin’s natural hair is not talked about enough❤️

Look at these perfect curls 😍 his hair seems so soft in these pics 🤭🥰❤️

[eepiebeepie]

RANDOM MIGUEL HCS

I have so many thoughts about this man you don't understanddddddd

~ HE CANT COOK Like he can but only when he's sleep deprived and zoned out. He'll make the best feast you've ever seen but if he's well rested and awake he can barely make pasta HE NEEDS TO BE POSESSED BY HIS ABUELITA TO COOK LIKE A GOD THEREFORE ONLY SLEEP DEPRIVED COOKING BC CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM SO FRUSTRATED WITH SLIGHRLY BURNT FOOD AND THEN ONE DAY HE WAKES UP TO ALL OF THIS BOMB ASS FOOD AND HES SO FED UP he's just like- come on and no matter how hard he tries he just can't replicate it because he tries measuring but sleep deprived Miguel measures with his soul so its not as good. The desserts in the Spider Society Cafeteria are all his abuelas recipes (he will never tell anyone that though. He's sworn the cook to secrecy)

~He always smells like grease and oil because in the spare time he has at work or when he's frustrated and needs a little distraction he works on little mechanic projects. No matter what cologne he wears (he always smells delicious) there's the underlying scent of car oil

~He's like a cat sometimes. A very large very heavy cat that insists on wrapping his arms around you and leaning on you while you cook for him he's not very aware of the fact that he's almost 300 pounds of pure muscle atop you

~Secretly likes being the little spoon because you make him feel safe

~Would rather suck a lemon than admit he likes the music you listen to (he hides his Spotify from you because his workout playlist is most of you songs)

~Loves letting you put eyeliner on him while you're getting ready for a date. He gets ready quickly and sometimes he gets impatient so you grab his chin and smudge some gel around his eyes. Much to your detriment it makes him look hotter and he stares at you all puppy in love while you put it on him.

~He always wants a lipstick stain of yours on his jaw. Always. He's a taken man and he hates people flirting with him, he just turns his jaw long enough for whoever to see. He will absolutely take you to sephora and hand you his card. You go through lipstick like water becaise of him(edited)

~He smells like car oil/grease, mexican hot chocolate and orange blossom fabuloso. always the orange blossom fabuloso bc hes a clean freak

~Has a soft spot for animals, especially bunnies. They're so soft and cuddly and he would rather die than admit he has a pet bunny because he'd be teased relentlessly

~Miguel is the type of man to drive like Dominic toretto taught him how to drive Ain't not a care in the world swerving and weaving. You're late? Hahaha no. You're there 5 minutes early with coffee in hand because ue drives like a bat out of hell You know he boutta pull up because you can hear his car 10 minutes before he actually shows up. Man got diabolical bass and subwoofers The house vibrating the road vibrating alladat man He pulls up with shades and one arm out the window like "cmon mami we got places to be"

~He can definitely do your hair. He knows how to use a curling iron, flat iron, blowouts all of it bc of Gabi. His hair is always so luscious because on god he has more hair products than you and he takes at least 15 minutes each morning making sure his hair is soft and perfectly styled. If youre going out hes for sure doing your hair "mami you look like a princess hold on let me do your hair."

[mamamittens]

Funny thoughts about my little shippy ship

How much care goes into their hygiene routine

So, we know from like, an SBS that the Strawhat men typically was every few days or whatever and the women daily. I can see this being fairly standard across the board for most characters in One Piece.

But!

Starting off with Thatch, I firmly believe he'd likely have a quick, thorough scrub down daily. Either to wake up or wind down for sleep. This is because, of course, he works IN THE KITCHEN. For hygiene reasons, he's gotta be washing up pretty well, especially concerning bulk cooking. Shits messy.

That's just basic hygiene though. I do think he's got a hair care routine to maintain that pompadour. It's a little hard to tell with animation style, but he does seem to have fairly long shit on top to get that large shape. Which means, for good styling, he needs to take care of it. Likely having a wash cycle and, yes, hair care products. Including a shower cap or maybe even a bonnet of some kind to keep it mostly in shape while he sleeps. Can't imagine he grows out his nails, so they're probably trimmed short, and we never see him in any other clothes so no idea what he's got canonically for body hair. (A friend mentioned he's probably pretty hair and, yeah, I get that vibe too lol. It's hard to explain, but it's probably pretty impressive and likely why he covers up so much--to keep any of it from falling into his food).

Skincare is likely nonexistent. Maybe some lotion if he's damaged his hands badly cutting something or using harsher acidic ingredients. Can't imagine what kind of bullshit food he's gotta worry about doing harm before it's taken care of during food prep. Perhaps something for old scars to keep them from remaining stiff so he can keep a good range of motion. But otherwise pretty minimal skin care.

Izou!

Now, Izou definitely bathes pretty regularly. He just... Looks like a man who doesn't tolerate BO. Master of the quick scrub and enjoyer of a long soak. I just know this man has a whole skincare routine and haircare regimen for those luscious locks. Mostly stuff he's made himself or swears by with weird ass ingredients. Probably even a 'spa day' routine every month or so for a deep cleanse.

He's gotta take good care of his body, but it's likely made easier because he just... Doesn't grow hair in a lot of places. Genetics and all that. For nails, he probably has a certain amount of length but keeps them fairly neat and trim otherwise. Shaved whatever he does grow, which isn't much at all.

I think the longest part of his routine is skincare because it's the easiest way to maintain a good makeup base. No need for concealers and color correction if his face is flawless. So there's probably dozens of lotions and such for every inch of his body and emergency solutions for any sudden issues. Scars are minimizes swiftly, dryness smoothed out, and overnight creams for an extra hydration boost.

Izou has a face card he regularly updates, basically.

If there's anything he's lazy about it's probably just perfumes and added scents. I can see him believing heavily in the power of natural scents and whatever his preferred products provide than a particular cologne or whatever. He's probably got a few bottles for special occasions, maybe just borrows Thatch's cologne, which is a lot more like aftershave and heady.

And Nikia!

Another one that regularly bathes! Prefers a shower because baths take... A long time. For no real reason. Probably the most relaxed hygiene scheduled between the three of them. Doesn't do a lot with her hair or skin, but does have a few products and whatever Izou insists she tries (which she does for a while and then infrequently unless he happens to be there when she's primed to use them). Does have a hair bonnet but washes her whole body regularly. She may decide to postpone a shower if it's a long day and chose to bathe in the morning--won't do anything 'outside' until she has though.

The worst part is her wings, but it's impossible to not get them wet so she's just practiced with it at this point. There is a wing version of shampoo and conditioner to keep them healthy with regular washes, but it takes a while to fully use them. So her showers tend to be longer than expected by necessity. Has leave in conditioner and hair oils to keep her hair nice and bouncy with decent success.

Likes her nails long and only trims them when they start to break, but they don't get crazy long either. Has a hand lotion she uses regularly but that's the closest she does to regular, additional treatment outside of her hair.

Izou likes to drag her into a spa session that she appreciates because it usually involves grooming her wings, which is quite lovely and relaxing! Does have perfume and uses it daily. Favors lighter scents or vaguely floral/fruity ones. For fancy occasions, will change to a more 'mature' and musky scent.

[theonewhopoops]

You're all correct, honestly.

One of the reasons my partner and I hit it off years and years ago is because I ask genuine questions. I may ask about things I don't care about, but I will pry, because it is a part of the person I'm speaking to.

I don't like kids! But I ask fathers about their babies. I ask them about what makes them excited and what makes them nervous about child rearing. I ask people about their cool shoes or hats or compliment them on their well-coifed mustaches. Do their family members have a history of such luscious facial hair? When did they start growing it out? What products do they use? How much time does it take to make it look that good?

Like, I'm autistic with all kinds of extra layers of neurodivergence. So, I completely understand the feeling of walking into a room where everyone is diluting themselves to fit social norms. They talk about their career in the most surface level way. They say they like a sports team. They tell you what college they went to. They comment that they hate how hot it is, now. It's all very boring and meaningless. And it can be exhausting walking into that as the only person who's trying to have more interesting interactions, or - like me - walking in as the only person who doesn't care about this stuff enough to distill your personality down to a digestible dinner biscuit. It's the reason I avoid social gatherings, because I hate it and I don't care.

When it comes down to it, the main reason I don't care is because I'm not going to be friends with these people. We are not going to have a lasting bond. This is because I'm bad at being friends and it's genuinely a lot of work with very little reward for most people to be friends with me (and often times vice versa)

BUT.

When it comes down to it, the main reason I CARE is because I look around and I see my dad. He is a very chatty and social guy who is also bad at having friends. He really likes talking with folks and bonding over interesting conversations, and he will talk the ear off of a waitress or a bank teller if they engage with him. He doesn't get much socializing because he works so much. And that's the main reason I pry when I talk with people.

Talking with another person is a really good opportunity to make them feel seen and heard in a way they may not experience day to day. We don't have to be friends tomorrow, which is why I can devote a lot of energy into talking to them just for today. I want them to tell me things they've been thinking about for a while. I want them to have that moment of saying "EXACTLY! You get it!" which they might not get often. I want to be the person that my dad needs when he goes out and about - someone who is kind and genuine and cares a lot, even if they don't care. You know?

Like, it really doesn't matter to me what your kids are like. But I so so so so want to give you the chance to talk about them openly and happily and freely without hindrance. I want you to talk about how you bought that cool handbag in Brazil, and the lovely memories around it. I want you to tell me about the way your grandma raised you to be generous with everything you have, so you literally offered me the earrings from your ears when I told you how much I loved them.

So you're all correct. Sometimes you enter a room and everything is vapid and soulless and your autism wants you to jump off a bridge. But sometimes you're talking to a 50 year old man who's sitting alone in an empty school building installing some software on a computer while looking out over a lake on a mountainside describing the beauty to you and reminiscing about his recent visit to the Renaissance Fair with his mom and his kids and how everyone dressed up and had a blast. You'll likely never talk to him again, but right now you are his best friend because you're listening.

THAT is what matters to me.

I guess I just feel like... the weltanschauung on tumblr, and this seems true in both the more mainstream corners like fandom tumblr and the more niche corners like rattumb, is one that is very concerned with engineering one's environment. People are very picky, finicky about their surroundings, and this is viewed as a good thing—you're supposed to settle on very specific requirements for your environment and then cultivate them. This is expressed in like, the presence of DNIs, the advice to block profusely, etc., but also in ways that interface with IRL life. Like how it seems kind of common for rationalists to go and live in rationalist communities, full of people who are similar to them and have their same environmental and social preferences.

It's like a general predilection to insularity.

And this is so different from the world I'm used to, in which variety is viewed as inherently desirable, in which one is considered to benefit personally from "meeting all different kinds of people" and "having all different kinds of experience", and so on. And that mindset aligns more with my own preferences; insularity makes me uncomfortable.

Sometimes I wonder if like, this is related to the thing where a lot of people here seem to have hated school. I liked school! I liked meeting a variety of people, and encountering different stuff, and so on.

It's like, there was this post going around a while ago that said "I don't want to be more like everyone else, I want everyone else to be more like me". And everyone was reblogging it, all my mutuals were reblogging it, and I was just like "I don't relate to this at all, that sounds like it would suck".

This is part of my ongoing series of posts "max thinks out loud about why they feel they are clashing with tumblr culture so consistently these days".

Anyway, I guess, I don't mind being around people who have a desire for insularity in this sort of way, but I guess what I feel is that tumblr is a bit of an eco chamber, there is no source to remind people that not everyone feels this same way. Sometimes discussions go in a weird direction because tumblr users cannot seem to imagine "guy who actually likes small talk and might find having a conversation with a relative stranger who they share little in common with to be an enriching part of life" as an actually existing type of person.

[laequiem]

Kiss-proof

/ Jude has lost Cardan in the mall. Of course, he is in the one place she would never go. Domestic fluff, fluffy fluffiest fluff

Fandom: The Folk of The Air

Rating: T for mention of characters having a sex life, but that's it.

The flaw in Cardan's glamour is the same detail that infuriates me when I look at his face when he wakes up: he is impossibly beautiful. Not handsome like a popular actor, not pretty like the members of a boyband. He is absolutely devastating, just as he is as a faerie.

read on ao3 • part of Tales from the Mortal Realm

I check my bulky flip phone for the 5th time.

4:23pm.

I don't know why I expected Cardan to be back on time. I had some errands to do—which might include lingerie I wanted to keep secret until our anniversary—so I told him to explore the mall on his own. I gave him some (real, non-glamoured) money to spend like a child with an allowance.

There are so many red flags with this whole plan.

I do not like to admit it, but I'm worried. My extravagant husband has enough trouble fitting in with humans when he is with me, I can only imagine the trouble he can get himself in without me. Or the trouble that can find him when I am not there to protect him.

I get up from the bench that I had designed as our meeting point. Where could he be? Anywhere I would not go, which does not narrow the list down very much. As I walk around, I can imagine him enjoying every single one of these places.

Cardan smelling some bath bombs and chatting up with a pushy Lush salesperson. All that glitter, all that dye—the servants would rage at having to clean the tub afterwards.

Cardan entering a sterile-looking jewelry store, eyes glittering at all the precious gems.

Cardan browsing Hot Topic, digging into bowls of plastic rings and looking at shirts for bands he does not know.

My stomach drops as I stand before the one store I know I will find him in. Black-and-white striped pillars stand on either side of the storefront and the dreaded white font over black spells out the name of the store: Sephora.

I have never entered a Sephora before. They are intimidating and I know nothing about their products. Whenever I needed new eyeliner, I would just ask Vivi to buy me whichever one she thought was best. Nowadays, I can count on my husband's extensive makeup collection and skills.

“We have servants to do this!” I had insisted the first time he approached me with a kohl pencil. He had laughed, and I let him line my eyes. Ever since, I look forward to it. It’s a small, intimate gesture with which we prove our love to each other without saying a word. It is his way of showing care, and my way of showing trust.

I pass the threshold of the store and I spot him immediately. Even without my True Sight making his glamour ripple when I gaze at him, I would still have a hard time believing he is human. His glamour is perfect—rounded ears, no tail, the glitter of his skin dulled down to a normal healthy shine—but every glamour should have a flaw. The flaw in Cardan's glamour is the same detail that infuriates me when I look at his face when he wakes up: he is impossibly beautiful. Not handsome like a popular actor, not pretty like the members of a boyband. He is absolutely devastating, just as he is as a faerie.

Even amongst gorgeous people who perfected their faces through makeup and good lighting, he stands out.

For me, however, bewilderment comes from seeing Cardan wait in line like a normal person. Like a boy who did not grow up as an entitled prick. It shakes me so much that I stop in my tracks and watch him walk up to the register once the previous client leaves.

He adapts better than I give him credit for. My heart swells with love for this male who keeps challenging and surprising me.

I go to bypass the line and I catch a snippet of his conversation with the boy manning the cash register. On the counter lay piles of makeup, from eyeshadow palettes to colorful eyeliner.

"A good choice!" the cashier exclaims, holding a dark lipstick, "it has the best matte finish. It even passes the kiss test!"

I swear I can see him wiggle his perfectly defined eyebrows. The smile he gives Cardan is wicked—the same kind of grin my husband gives me over dinner then he's feeling particularly hungry.

"The kiss test?" my husband asks, a grin forming on his sinful lips.

"Yeah," the cashier replies, "you can make out with someone, it won't budge. Or transfer."

I get to Cardan’s side and the cashier notices me then. His brows raise in surprise for a moment before he schools his features into a socially acceptable customer service smile.

I can't blame him for his surprise—Cardan and I could not look any more mismatched. His sharp features are accentuated with contouring and a lighter version of his usual silver highlighter. I, on the other hand, barely had time to brush my hair before putting on an oversized hoodie and leggings. I bet I look like someone he took pity on and brought to the mall for a makeover.

"Where is the fun in that?" Cardan looks at me then, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Still, I suppose I will have to try."

I roll my eyes and he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

The cashier tells Cardan the total, and he raises a brow when my husband starts counting cash. I know other humans use cards nowadays, but without a permanent address in the Mortal Realm, we have been dealing exclusively in cash—mostly given by Vivi in exchange for Elfhame goods.

The boy thanks Cardan for his purchase, and it's all I can do not to laugh when he replies "you're very welcome", like that is a normal thing to say to a retail employee.

On our way out, Cardan stops by one of the many mirrors in the store and applies his new lipstick, ending with a pop of his luscious lips.

"Really? You couldn't wait until we got back to the hotel?"

I smile teasingly at him, and he grins back. The lipstick is deep, dark purple.

"If I did, nobody would see it but you." He slides an arm around my waist and winks. "That would be a shame, when it looks so good."

I roll my eyes and slip out of his embrace, making towards the exit. When my back is turned to him, I allow myself a smile. It does look good, I think, though I won't give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

"Jude, wait—"

With those long legs of his, Cardan catches up to me quickly. He puts a hand on my shoulder and spins me around to face him. I lift my chin to look at him, and his expression sends a chill down my spine. This face used to send unwanted images of our younger days to my brain—Cardan spitting on my shoes, pulling my hair, kicking my lunchbox. Nowadays, this wickedness sends my blood rushing south and fills me with memories of his clever fingers and his face between my legs.

"I was not done," he says as he circles my waist again, pulling me towards him sternly. "I have to debunk the claims the boy made."

"Fine," I say, and peck him quickly on the lips.

He chuckles. "You know that won't do, Jude dearest."

Cardan leans towards me. Instinctively, I part my lips and close my eyes. Even after all this time, I hate that he has this effect on me, even though I know it's not fair. I have spent my whole life training with a blade while he spent his training his mind and body to seduce and manipulate.

His lips claim mine and I all but melt into him. I forget where we are, how utterly exposed we are to the judgement of others. I seek out his tongue with mine and bite his lip the way he likes.

Cardan pulls away and I chase after his lips, desperate for more, until I feel his mouth on my neck. Slender fingers grip my chin, angling my head to allow him access.

I open my eyes and finally remember myself, where we are and how inappropriate this is—

"Cardan!"

He hums in question as his cruel mouth continues kissing its way up to my ear. His hand moves back towards my nape and tangles in my hair, pulling lightly.

"We're in—you can't just do that! People are—"

I look around, mortified. The mall is not that crowded, but I see people looking abruptly away when I look in their direction. A mother covers her child's eyes as she notices us. An old lady sneers.

I feel Cardan grin against my skin before dragging his teeth up my ear to nibble at the curved cartilage.

I give a small shove to his chest and he pulls away with a chuckle that curls my toes.

"You're shameless," I say.

"You look like you drank an entire bottle of faerie wine," he replies, then gives a quick kiss to my heating cheek.

When he pulls back, he inspects my face with narrowed eyes, then my neck. He lets out an impressed hum.

"It seems he was right. No marks."

I laugh and his eyes light up, a genuine smile forming on his dark lips.

"Will you buy more, then?" I ask.

"No. I prefer when it leaves marks."

[seiyasabi]

Jealousy

(This is a Jealous Illumi x Female Reader (kind of short?) story :))

TW: unhealthy relationships!, etc..

This honestly isn’t one of my best works, but I hope whomever requested it likes it :)) )

“Kalluto, darling, I need you to sit still if you want me to brush your hair,” He ‘humphs,’ quietly, before stilling his previously erratic movements. 

Smiling down at the boy in the mirror, you pat his head affectionately, “Thank you, now, let’s use some detangler-”

“What is this?” The bland voice of your unwanted husband echoes throughout the large room, halting your movements. Immediately, your hands start to shake in slight fear, causing you to place your brush on your golden vanity. Turning around in your seat, you give the emotionless man a shaky smile. 

“He-hello, Illumi. Kalluto and I were doing his hair, he took a bath recently-” The oldest Zoldyck son holds up a hand, halting your words. 

“Kalluto, leave us.”

The youngest stands to his feet, albeit hesitantly, before pushing in his previously used chair, and giving you a tight hug. Since you’re sitting, you can’t do much besides hold him, and rub his back reassuringly. 

“I’ll see you later, Bub. Maybe if you ask Alluka nicely, she’ll help you,” He nods absentmindedly, before hurrying out of your and Illumi’s shared room. Gulping in slight fear, you look towards the spot your husband once stood, only to be scared shitless when you see that he is now right in front of you. 

“Why was he here?” You avert your eyes to the floor, fiddling with your hands. 

“Well, uhm, Kalluto’s recently struggled with detangling knots, and because I’ve been free, he comes to me-”

Illumi slams a pale hand on the vanity behind you, his face now right in front of yours, his laboured breath fanning over your face. 

“What does he have that I don’t?” At his words, you can’t help but laugh. 

“Illumi, are you seriously believing that I’m involved romantically with an eight year old-”

“Don’t laugh at me,” His voice wavers, showing how affected he is, “Why do you favour him?”

“He’s like a little brother, nothing more. I would’ve thought that you’d be happy that I wanted to be involved with your family. I don’t understand why you’re being so jealous,” You frown, looking down at your hands in anxiety. 

You hear him sigh, before he stiffly wraps his arms around you in an uncomfortable hug. He is holding you too tightly for it to be natural, and the weird angle makes it so his bony frame digs into your supple skin. 

“I’m sorry for losing my temper, Darling. You just- you just never hold me like that.”

Holding in an eye roll, you move away from the skinny man, and motion towards the now open seat, “If that’s the problem, then feel free to sit down. I’ll brush your hair if you want me to.”

A smile finds its way onto his face, causing you to shiver in fear. He shouldn’t do that. It looks too forced, his lips quivering, smile too full of teeth. 

Chuckling in discomfort, you push him softly into the vanity seat, “Alright, do you want me to use any detangler?” He nods, causing you to pick up an expensive looking beauty product. 

Spraying some into your hands, you rub them together, before wiping it onto his luscious locks. You do that until all of his ends are covered. 

Once done, you grab a large comb, and start to detangle his ends. With light hands, you brush out his soft locks, starting from the bottom and working your way up. 

At his roots, you push down a little harder, allowing him to have no tangling at the top. 

When you’re done, the large man seems to have become sleepy, because his head droops towards the vanity table. 

“Are you alright?” He nods, before leaning onto you. 

“Yes, of course. Can we go to bed, Darling?” You nod, before helping him to his feet. The both of you tuck yourselves into the large, plush mattress. Once laying down, he wraps his arms around you, before falling into a deep slumber. 

You stay awake for a while longer, wondering what you did to deserve an obsessed creep of a lover. 

[jjksblackgf]

BTS Reaction - He helps you with your wash day.

Here you go, lovelies. I hope you guys enjoy <3

kim seokjin

You’re sitting on a pillow on the floor and he’s at the couch behind you, you have a mirror to guide his moves as he applies styling cream on your hair, being very careful with it since it’s his first time doing your hair.

“Now what?” He asked after massaging your hair.

“Now it’s baby hair time” you answered “But this is advanced territory, so I’ll teach you later”

And he would be looking forward to it. He respects the hustle, he knows it takes time to get pretty.

min yoongi

You two just started dating around 6 months ago, so cultural differences were still rising. Your wash day was one of them because he wasn’t really sure why you needed a whole day, but he would be patient for your explanation once you were comfortable giving him one. Or he would just search online if the curiosity bothers him. Whichever came first. 

He’d offered for you to wash your hair at his house since his bathroom has more space, he wanted you to be as comfortable as he could provide. Turns out his curiosity got the best of him, and the result of that was a list of products he thought you’d like to use, leaving them in a place where you could see.  Everything for his babe to look as hot or as cute as you wish.

jung hoseok

Boy gets extra excited, he knows it’s a big deal for this relationship because your hair is everything to you. All he knew so far was how amazing everything smells.

“Oh my God, this is so exciting!” he said in a squeal.

“Ok boy, relax” you laughed at his jumping self “Grab that detangler, we have some work to do”

You parted your hair into sections and showed him how to handle it so he could do it the way you liked. It was cuteness overload as he sang “We are the Champions” while trying his best to detangle your hair.

“If this is exciting you, you need to prepare yourself for styling gels”

kim namjoon

Namjoon is a smart man, so even without a black significant other, he already knew what it took to be with you. Once you two started dating, he went heavy on his research, watching every video tutorial his busy schedule allowed him to watch. He was prepared for the hair conversation, he even had his favorite products for different porosities, and was fully looking into greasing your scalp. Everything for healthy, luscious hair.

But he wouldn’t say anything unless you started the conversation, wanting you to be as comfortable with him as possible. So when the day came, you had his undivided attention. He’s a learner, so you wouldn’t have to say anything twice.

“When does scalp greasing come into your hair routine?” he asked after helping you with the moisturizer cream, taking you by surprise

“You’ll be notified once the day comes”

park jimin

Being in the middle of your wash day, you had your hair parted with half your hair tied up waiting for their turn to receive a nutritious mask. So you opened the door to your apartment, you did not expect Jimin to be at the other side.

“You look so pretty” he said with a half sarcastic, half adorable voice. “You’re still on your hair?” he added after closing the door after him

“I told you it takes me the whole day” you answered, getting back to your place in front of the mirror

“I thought you were joking” Jimin laughed, but he could tell you were stressing over your hair “Let me help you today” he offered, and before you could respond, he was already untying your hair and using your homemade mask.

kim taehyung

Today was his only day off for the month, but it was the only day of the week where you could take care of your hair, so now he was sitting on your couch, being the DJ on your playlists. He knows it takes a long time, and he’s already used to just being your emotional support. 

He wanted to actually help you, wanting to know exactly what products to give thanks to for blessing his nose. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you said flustered after catching him through your mirror.

“I love you” he answered to shy to ask to help you, but you knew his true intentions

“I love you too, now get that oil and help me do twists like you did the other day”

jeon jungkook

Jungkook was a natural hair aficionado, being first pulled in when you had your hair out on your first date. The smell was too good not to take notice. Ever since then, he helped you with your hair at every chance he could.

“Ready?” you asked him, and he nodded as he would take his next challenge. Baby hair. He didn’t want to mess anything up, so he’s been practicing his moves, all he wanted was for you to rock some advanced drawings on your head. “Just don’t make me look crazy”

He pulled a brush and gel that were Jungkook approved “Never when you’re with me”

[sugar-petals]

BTS Tarot Reading ➝ What Kind Of Porn Do They Watch? (18+)

↳ NOTE - due to several requests, a steamy and detailed one. ☕️ we’re asking the cards about the erotica they fancy in a wider sense. 

warning ⚠️ 18+ // bdsm mentions, worship, kinks left and right. we’re going graphic in all types o’ ways, lads.

♡ DISCLAIMER // tarot is speculative, there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. all portrayals are fictive and for entertainment purposes only.

SPREAD #1:

yoongi

⌈ THE WORLD ⇁ Jesus... Someone’s obsessed with girls in the nude. That card has a stark naked woman wrapped in very little satin on it so you know what our funky little guy is up to. Luscious aesthetic fotos might be just around his corner. Big duh, he’s a photography major. These folks are all about body appreciation. He’s also on a personal vendetta against lingerie 😂 Yoongi won’t get hard looking at even the most HD panty and bra ads. Only the skin in its full splendor will do, no editing. He loves pictures of nipples peaking through shirt fabric, it’s all over his phone. Yoongi likes his gals without underwear 24/7 just like he dislikes underwear himself. If we’re talking porn, the woman on the card is holding two very long rods so may I connect the dots: Threesomes, handjobs, blowbangs, spitroasting. Friction, friction, and more friction. To Yoongi’s brain, handjobs are a great um new version of holding hands. Sex standing up also, keeping it vertical. Yoongi doesn’t care about girth, inches count. Nice and elongated with a perfect plunge, something to hold onto. Yep, he’s pretty deliberate when searching that up. Yes, he loves the look of it. However, and you’ll be surprised: Even if he likes poly porn, it’s still nothing too extreme. This card is more about pleasure than pain. If a guy likes rough and degrading sex, you get swords and wands in his spread. THE WORLD is more about perfected skills and success. So, he likes the more accomplished porn stars. With a preference for curly blondes and redheads, that’s sort of the hair color on the card. Natural B or C cup. Medium height, not too curvy. Oversized booty not needed. In terms of nationality: We have three representative animals on the card. Eagle, lion and bull, plus a light blonde man’s head. So, anything that America/Germany/Albania/Mexico/Namibia (and so on, lot of countries with eagles as their national bird my dude), England, Spain and Scandinavia have to offer. Honey sugar is going international, baby.

hoseok

⌈ QUEEN OF WANDS ⇁ Did I just mention that guys who like rough sex in porn get wand cards in their readings in Yoongi’s segment? Well, there we have our candidate, with a very obvious card since it’s a court figure. Now, the thing is, this is not the guy being rough. The QUEEN OF WANDS is as notoriously femdom as can be. The very fiery and raw and fun version. So, with a degree of lightheartedness, but still being very fit — even buff — and hands-on with the sub. If you get the QUEEN OF SWORDS, that’s the more cool and calculated domme who signs you up for torture and humiliation, and she really looks like a domme. She’s all over the internet because she has the grit. Now wands combined with a tarot queen... it’s more about the stamina and she is approachable. Hobi does not like watching cruel girls, he likes challenging ones. Upbeat porn stars who can take a lot but most importantly dole it out assertively like pros are Hobi’s schtick. He’s unapologetic about that. With him it’s like, please not the local newcomers that turned legal a month ago. The queen cards are all about mature women. Mommy kink, hint hint. The kind of mommy who’s gonna whip out the spreader bar or cane (= wands again) and give a playful type of punishment. See how desert-like that imagery is, Hobi wants to sweat big time when he gets off to this. Now since wands also make for a damn good pole to dance on, go figure. This whole card has me wondering if, well alright, he is a Cardi B hard stan 😅 If Hobi blasts Money to get in the mood, I’d not be surprised. Anyway. Back to pole stuff: If you go through his youtube search history, you will find astounding things. I think he watches the more professional and athletic performers in competition though. High production value is key. Finally, an interesting card detail: There’s a sunflower on it. This is definitely his kind of tarot imagery.

jimin

⌈ KING OF COINS  ⇁ This card always looks like a scene from a medieval movie so you might have an erotic film enthusiast here. The more chaste type of genre, pentacles are very grounded and not hypersexualized. The intimacy is slow and more about security and pleasure. It’s graphic and detailed, but gives you a sense of relaxation. With a bit of romance in the plot, that might absolutely be Jimin’s thing. Castles and wine and nobility. Interesting type of erotica. Historical and classy. As expected of a prince, mind you. He might enjoy books of that genre also. And we know Jimin is an avid reader, right up there with Namjoon. Now, even with more risque and contemporary stuff that he googles up, we have similar dynamics going down on screen. With Hobi we had femdom because it’s a queen card, now with Jimin we get the classic male dom type of porn because that’s how the King usually rolls, unless it’s the KING OF CUPS who’s touchy-feely and subby. Meanwhile, the KING OF COINS is your local sugar daddy. Leaning towards being a soft dom, he’s not aggressive. And Jimin surely has a little crush on that concept. Ye know, if all the other members have female cards and Jimin gets the sugar daddy, we might be dealing with mxm action. Because if this card was a porn star, he’d be a really, really rich producer and a bear who’s done this since the frickin’ 90s. He’s treating his subs very gently and lets them sit on their lap, the imagery is sort of like that because the King is balancing a pentacle on his left thigh. Sex and comfort all in one are life for Jimin. A sexy detail I only noticed at a second glance, the King also has a shortened golden staff with him, which has a rounded tip. If that’s not a butt plug… whenever I see props like that in tarot, I interpret it as a sex toy. So, good vibes in here. And a bunch of aphrodisiacs, the KING OF COINS is a foodie. Which you know, might just be a food porn type of reference. Jimin’s taste in sexy things is quite something else.

jungkook

⌈ THE EMPRESS ⇁ If there’s one thing I like, it’s the Tarot giving me the important archetypes during readings of that kind. The Queens, the Kings, the Major arcana (see Yoongi’s and Jin’s segment). You can really draw a lot of hints out of it. Now with the EMPRESS you have a similar case to Hobi’s, just a lot more softcore. Jungkook has a refined and pretty vast taste in erotica, if not the most refined in Bangtan next to Jimin who likes that kind of dignified touch to it as well as we saw. Jungkook knows his stuff when it comes to searching things up, he is a first class netizen in that regard. In terms of genre: The EMPRESS is your highkey feminist and wholesomeness legend, so — you won’t find any super creepy things in some hidden file on his PC, and things by female producers instead. No slut-shaming or name-calling here, everyone gets their pleasure in their own right. Thanks to online sex ed, Jungkook has a map to the clit and he’s not afraid to use it. He’s the type to watch solo videos ad nauseam. He’s fascinated. Masturbation until it gets all messy with the juices flowing, and you bet he wants to see the girls buzzing themselves off lying on their back. Maybe even outdoors in a field. Cum play is a must, cunnilingus is a must, he loves unprotected sex and creampies, he loves breast massages. And yes. Anything that involves sex with pregnant and chubby women. Similar to Taehyung, it’s all about the focus on the girl, he doesn’t bother much with the guy performers. And given Yoongi’s reading on top of that, we have three members in BTS who are all about worshipping the female body right here, breasts over ass, and he likes blondes, too. The EMPRESS card is like… the entire porn industry who does the MILF and BBW genre is financed by Jeon Jungkook’s website subscriptions. Cue GOT7, with Jungkook it’s girls, girls, girls. The thirst is going strong, and he’s unashamed times ten, sex is sex. 

➝ we also have members who don’t really bother with erotica or have a complicated relationship with it.

SPREAD #2

taehyung

⌈  ACE OF WANDS reversed ⇁ He’s not about beating off until the world ends. Taehyung gets bored by porn or heated literature and doesn’t feel very motivated to search it up. He would rather come up with his own ideas to write but doesn’t have the energy. Sex drive: On hold, even if he tries to look something up it doesn’t feel very fulfilling to him. Most of it fails to turn him on, it’s not his kind of taste. He gets frustrated when he masturbates and would rather rest, dream, and doze. The only thing I can see him watch somewhat frequently — hold your horses — is lesbian porn. I’ll explain. The ACE OF WANDS is pretty much your most glaring handjob symbolism card. A hand gripping a stick. Yoongi’s THE WORLD card has very similar imagery, I mean even two wands and a girl, bisexual explosion much. He would be a big fan of the upright ACE OF WANDS card lmao! But the reversal is like, um no silly guys jerking off in here, pls. Keep your cum to yourself. That means: Zero dicks in Taehyung’s zone, girl-on-girl stuff is his very last resort for quality that he is desperate for but cannot find. And not the stuff where the producers just replace the guys with heavy arsenal sex toys, double-ended dildos, fucking machines, endless strap-on action without any clit stimulation on either side and whatnot. Taehyung is like ugh, cherie, why, give me the juicy stuff, give me the basics. What he wants is just pure scissoring, fingering, oral, little gentle bites, a lot of caresses and kisses. And slow, slow sex. Probably the amateur kind. He hates how brutal and exaggerated most things online are. Tae is looking for softness, a lot of lesbian action is what delivers in that regard so he takes all he gets. And it goes further than that, Taehyung knows the finest yuri recommendations, I’m telling you.

seokjin

⌈  THE STAR reverse ⇁ The opposite of Yoongi: not keeping it very naked in here. The upright card shows a nude woman pouring water from two cups. Hence a strong connection to the card of sexuality, TWO OF CUPS. Everything is very gentle and positive in that scenery. But then, the reversed card rather shows us that Jin doesn’t feel too thrilled watching other people film or write or photograph sex. Like in Tae’s case, he becomes bored, it’s all the same to him. Nothing’s ever new to him in porn. He feels negative and guilty rather than refreshed or entertained. He also doesn’t like a lot of kinks that very literally connect to, well, the pouring water. Squirting, cum play, watersports, sex in the pool or showers, lube overuse, creampies, bukkake, fake cum — Jin is rolling his eyes at that, he thinks it’s a circus. He’s surely given it a try, but ended up feeling worse and even more pent-up or dissatisfied. At best, you will find him on unknown websites looking for the most amateur videos there are. Because: THE STAR quite unequivocally hints at porn stars. If you reverse the card, it becomes someone not very well-known. He roots for the underdog. Accordingly, Jin’s reaction to mainstream videos goes this way: ‚Pipe down, you non-artists!’ 😆 Cause maybe, he does do it better aye, without the awkward angles anyway. He doesn’t want the body cult, like, put that airbrush and silicone out of my face bro. Not because he’s against surgery, but the idea behind sexual extremes and the shady high standards. It’s too polished for him to get turned on. And robotic/staged. Likely because he’s had an IRL sexual experience (gasp!) that set a different ideal to him, so the more glossy porn feels off. Home video has all he needs instead. I think it’s especially because you get so see more body hair there. The woman on the THE STAR card is all sleek, so the reversed card is the opposite, Jin wants that unshaved goodness.

namjoon

⌈ EIGHT OF CUPS ⇁ Now you’d think — and I thought, kinda — we’d get the master of erotica right here. And he’s had one hell of a reputation for that. Think of the ever-infamous Yaman TV interview where BTS were super upfront and revealing about their taste and what they watch privately. With especially Namjoon having the lion’s share. But this card says otherwise if his current state is concerned. The EIGHT OF CUPS shows a man wandering off into the night, leaving eight cups behind him. I think what that means is, he’s moved on. Namjoon’s cravings aren’t as strong as they used to be, nor does he have the time. He knows it won’t fix his loneliness or answer the questions of life. He might be on the search for different things to fulfill him, or ignore much of his hormones in favor for his career. Not that he didn’t dabble in it, he sure did, but that chapter is slowly closing and what’s next he doesn’t really know yet. He thinks about family and being a father, so the smaller and more risque pleasures become less significant. Desire, too. Ye olde soul syndrome is kicking in. The card is also centered around introspection, a quest for self, all these higher topics that aren’t the most grounded and don’t leave much space for being horny. Joon is simply to preoccupied and on the move. He sees porn as a distraction from his real self at this point, and he’s not the type to feel satiated after masturbating to something, similar to Jin and Taehyung. Instead, I think he carries that energy elsewhere, hence the wanderer going from A to B onto a mountain. In short, Namjoon naturally grew out of it by becoming more, well: Namjoon. He’s left a lot behind, he’s choosing self-development over temporary fun, and he will ponder a lot on the topic, the hows and whys and whats more often than not. So, he’s passed the baton to Yoongi and Jungkook if you will, and keeps a low profile as of now. 

tarot mlist | ko-fi

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for anon:

[msyuksanh]

“The Brush” | Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Just a bit of a silly story set within the events of episode 3, so there are minor spoilers ahead if you’ve not reached that part of the game!

Summary Ruggie has some tasks for you and Grim to do. One of which involves braiding a certain irritable lion’s hair...

Rating: G Characters: Leona, Ruggie, Grim Location: Leona’s Room

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“Before we go for breakfast we need to do a couple of things first,” stated Ruggie standing before you with his hands on his hips.

You and Grim were dressed and ready for the day while Leona was just about coming into the land of the living. He lazily slipped on his orange waistcoat over his white shirt.

“We’re not your slaves.” retorted Grim.

You elbowed him gently to remind him they were doing you guys a favor letting you stay at the Savanaclaw Dorm, or more specifically Leona’s room. Also, not forgetting that in return for their kindness you guys were the new temporary servants.

“What would you like us to do?” you asked with a bright smile trying to make up for Grim’s remark.

“We just need to collect some clothes for laundry, and one of you will need to braid Leona’s hair.”

The was a short silence as you and Grim exchanged a look.

At this point Leona was still fixing his uniform and putting on accessories, seemingly completely oblivious to what was just said.

“As much as I would like to try not to rip out that guy’s hair I don’t have opposable thumbs so good luck,” Grim held up his paws and shrugged. He patted you on the shoulder before flying over to Ruggie who had been piling up Leona’s clothes in a weave basket.

An “Ah-” escaped you as your hand stretched out in Grim’s direction.

“Leona! Don’t go back to sleep!” Ruggie tutted and sighed, putting down the basket and pulling his prefect up into a sitting position. When did he go back to sleep!?

Leona growled. “What’s 5 more minutes? It’s not gonna kill anyone,” he grumbled, to which Ruggie rolled his eyes.

“We’ll be back in about 10 minutes. Come on Grim, I’ll show you the laundry room.” Ruggie strolled out with his hands clasped behind his head.

“Hey, you! Why am I the one carrying this heavy basket?!” yelled Grim as he struggled to keep afloat in the air while trying to follow Ruggie’s quickly disappearing form.

Now with them gone uncomfortable silence fell in the room. Leona sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and smartphone in hand.

You let out a quick sigh but found your energy after a deep breath.

“Okay, let’s get started shall we?” you said with another bright smile.

You walked towards Leona who strangely straightened up obediently and turned the screen off on his phone.

“So…is there a special style you have for your braids?” you inquired as you leant over him to inspect his luscious dark brown locks. His twitching ears sparked a curiosity in you. How you desired to just reach out and touch them!

“No.” he replied bluntly.

“Does Ruggie do anything special or-?”

“Hurry up and get on with it,” he growled out. The King of Beasts closed his eyes with what you assumed to be annoyance.

“Okay.” Your face and shoulders dropped indicating your motivation slowly leaving you.

You understood Leona wasn’t exactly in the mood for small talk. Then again, when ever was he?

You positioned yourself to his side, picked up a good amount of hair and tentatively dragged your fingers through it.

Leona was back on his phone endlessly scrolling from the fast motion of his thumb swiping up and down the screen.

“Hold on a minute,” you mumbled. You crawled on your knees onto his bed and appeared at height behind him bringing all his hair to the back. You tried combing through it all with your fingers again but found it difficult with the tangles and knots.

You got off the bed abruptly, now filled with a burst of excitement. After rummaging through your belongings you returned back to the bed with a hair brush in hand. Luckily you’d cleaned it!

“What’s taking so long!?” Leona only saw you bolt across the room and back from the corner of his eye. One thing he knew for sure was this was taking too long and he was going to murder someone if he didn’t get any food soon.

“I’ll be done in two minutes, don’t worry!” you exclaimed happily.

“Make it one,” was his irritated response.

Upon hearing his words you started brushing out the ends of his wavy hair quickly and gradually worked your way up. You got to the top of his head and made sure to be careful brushing around his ears. They twitched when the brush was near and Leona’s tail swished in a carefree manner, hitting your body and arms softly at times. How you wanted to touch that too!

Were your ears deceiving you? You swore you could have heard a small purr come from the Savanaclaw Dorm Leader.

Gasping at how smooth his hair had become you grinned seeing your fingers run so effortlessly through.

“Okay, braid time.” You left the hair brush on the edge of the bed and moved from behind him to his side with one foot planted on the floor and your other knee still on the bed. You stood tall so you had better height to do your work.

Slowly but surely you finished the first braid and felt proud of the end product. It didn’t turn out too bad between the nerves of touching a stranger’s hair and being so close to someone with such a strong personality.

All of a sudden you heard a clatter. Puzzled, you looked down to see Leona’s phone had fallen out of his hand. What?

As if in slow motion you saw him about to fall forward. Was he asleep!?

“No-n-no-no-!” You swung your arms around his wide shoulders in a panic and threw all your strength against him to stop him falling. Thank goodness your foot was on the floor otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to hold him back. And you knew he was more than likely going to fly into a blinding rage and kick you and Grim out if he had found himself woken up by faceplanting his own bedroom floor.

His head fell toward you and rested on your chest. His breathing was deep.

Oh, my goodness.

The panic set in wondering if Ruggie and Grim were to come back at any second. What would they say if they saw you both like this right now!?

“Hey, Leona, it’s time to wake up…!” You sang shakily, gently jostling him.

Nothing. You sighed forcibly. ‘Okay, let’s try something different.’

You sunk down onto your knee on the bed so you were at least able to see his face properly. In doing so Leona’s head fell into the crook of your neck.

Oh, my goodness(!)

Your eyes widened in shock. In that split second you felt his breath on your neck shivers ran up and down your back, but you swiftly shook your head to get rid of any strange thoughts.

“Leona! Hey!” You were confident he wasn’t going to fall forward anymore with his weight somewhat balanced by your arm around the back of him. You cautiously took your arm from across his chest and pulled his head away by cupping his jaw.

“Hello!? Please wake up(!)”

Nothing. You closed your eyes and pointed your face to the ceiling feeling everything you was doing was pointless.

Of course, the cruel hand of fate decided to deal you another card of misfortune right there and then, didn’t it? Of course your arm, the one essentially supporting his entire weight, gave out and you both fell backwards onto the bed.

Uh-oh.

As luck would have it you were stuck.

“Leona(!) Wake up! Why do you like sleeping so much!?” You questioned with exasperation in your voice.

You tried pulling your arm out from underneath his back but to no avail.

Feeling a mixture of annoyance, desperation and dread, you decided to just give in and wait for Ruggie to find you.

You facepalmed so hard you could cry. ’All I had was one job’

Why were things always happening to you? You couldn’t go one day, it seemed, without some kind of crazy event involving you and Grim. Not to mention this insane contract you believed you could fulfill to free Deuce, Ace and the other students trapped under Azul’s unique magic. But, how else were they going to get free? Who else was going to help them? Even if you had no magic, and you didn’t really know who you were or where you came from, you felt such a pull to help those in need.

Wow. Thinking about your friends really helped calm you down.

You turned your head to find Leona’s sleeping face in your direction. You paused. If it hadn’t have been for this pampered, arrogant lion-man and his straight-laced wolf and snarky hyena, you’d be god knows where. Your eyes roamed over his features taking them in slowly. You’d never seen him up close like this before.

Long eyelashes, sharp nose, lips always seemingly set in a frown, but luckily not right now. Your eyes wandered to his scar and you grew curious about its origins. His hair framed his face so well anyone would fall for him.

He was so stoic, so strong, ego the size of a galaxy, and yet in this very moment he was so gentle...

Leona’s eyes fluttered half-open and you held your breath. What would he think about this situation? How would he react!?

You couldn’t tell if his emerald eyes had focused enough to catch you staring back at him. Was he going to yell? Would he think you did something weird to him?

The answer was no. He went back to sleep.

You laughed suddenly finding the situation incredibly absurd yet hopelessly entertaining.

“What are you doing?” asked Ruggie from the door.

Relief washed over you and you’d never been happier to see the young hyena. “Oh, thank goodness you’re back!”

“What happened?” questioned Grim as he flew into the room. He gasped loudly.

“I’m stuck” You waved your free arm about to show the predicament you were in.

“How did this even happen?” Grim flew around checking you guys out. Ruggie laughed his signature snicker as he pulled his phone out to snap a million photos.

“The great Grim will get you out!” The furry demon grabbed your free arm and started pulling.

“No, Grim-wait-ow-ow-ow!” You cried in pain.

Ruggie lost himself to his laughter but never missed a beat with his photo-taking.

Grim gave up when he realized he couldn’t actually pull you out. You directed a death glare at him.

Ruggie’s laughter subsided and he wiped the tears out of his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from the Ramshackle Dorm even if I tried”.

“Can you just get him up, please?” You pleaded.

“Alright. Leona!! Wake up now!” Ruggie sighed, grabbed Leona’s wrists and pulled him up into a sitting position; the same move he’d made before.

Leona stretched his arms above his head and let out a long, hard yawn. “Why is everyone so loud!? You’d think I could get 5 more damned minutes of sleep”. He stood up and twisted at the waist working out the cracks in his back. You quickly followed suit getting up off the bed as you rubbed your slightly numb arm. Leona didn’t even seem to notice you were on his bed let alone him crushing a precious limb of yours.

“So, what happened? All you had to do was braid his hair... Was that too hard a task?” asked Ruggie condescendingly.

You ignored his patronising question.

“Well, I managed to get one braid done”, you professed kinda proudly, “but I decided to detangle his hair because, you know, I wouldn’t want to hurt him while braiding so I got my hair brush-“

Ruggie sharply inhaled.

At this moment Leona had wandered out onto the balcony, presumably, to get a moment of peace.

“A brush?” questioned the hyena. His eyes searched and fell upon the offending tool that laid abandoned beside the bed. He shook his head.

“What’s wrong with that?” Grim tilted his head in confusion.

“Look: when you brush a cat-“

“Lion” Leona interjected with a death stare. He’d come back to join the group and narrowed his eyes at Ruggie having heard him call him a ‘cat’.

“Fine. When you brush a…lion, they get comfortable. And when they get comfortable, they…” Ruggie gestured with his hands to coax the answer out of you.

“…fall asleep?” You questioned as you furrowed your brow wondering why he trailed off when he knew the answer.

Within a split second you gasped loudly; eyes widening once the realisation had dawned on you.

“Oh…” You looked over at Leona apologetically who only looked back with a bored stare.

“Yeah…” Ruggie agreed with a scrunched nose. He grinned making a mental reminder to show Jack the photos later. Oh, what juicy, juicy blackmail he now possessed.

“I don’t care what you’re talking about and I’m not standing around here waiting for you to finish.” The King of Beasts ‘hmphed’ and headed out of his room at warp speed.

“How are you not annoyed you only have one braid?” You heard Ruggie ask coming to the side of his prefect. He threw a cheeky grin back at you over his shoulder.

“I got to sleep more. I don’t care. It’s just hair,” answered Leona nonchalantly. The young hyena couldn’t really argue with that.

“I’ll put the other braid in later” said Ruggie. That poor boy probably knew Leona long enough that the lion would be bothered about the lack of braid eventually.

You let out a big sigh and let your body relax now that you were out of that situation. You followed behind the two Savanaclaw boys at a distance.

“Huh…” Grim flew beside you slowly with a paw rubbing his chin in thought.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“If all it takes is one brush to knock him out, we could steal A LOT of rich boy’s stuff,” pondered the small demon loudly with a nodding motion.

You laughed dryly. “Come on, don’t you get any funny ideas”

And with that, off you all went towards the school cafeteria, and towards what would be another crazy day at Night Raven College.

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(I’ve been watching cat videos lately on YT and the inspiration came to me! Our Leona is a big kitty after all!

I’ve not written in a long time so there are mistaaaakes, but thanks for reading!)

[babbushka]

Reunions

Clyde Logan x Reader 

3k ; Minor angst (Military past/reuniting with military buddies) it’s really very fluffy I promise

(originally posted on AO3 12/28/2018, cross-posting here for my tumblr friends)

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Most Monday mornings found you in the front lawn, tending to the flowers you had planted there before the heat of the day set in, and this particular Monday was no exception. 

The birds were chirping brightly, your watering can was full, and the day just seemed glad to see you. Clyde was back in the small house the two of you shared, and was just waking up. 

He always slept in late after the weekends when Duck Tape was at its busiest, so you had taken up this routine as a way to be productive while letting him get some much needed rest – on days where he let you out of his python grip, that was.

A bonus to being outside early was you got to greet the neighbors and various people passing by your property. People walking their dogs or taking their kids to the nearby school all got a friendly greeting from you as you tended your garden, and the mailman was no exception. You usually had a small token of appreciation for him on Mondays, as a way to start the week off nicely.

“Good morning ma’am! Only a couple letters for y’all today.” The mailman said as he pulled up in his truck outside your house.

You brushed your hands off on your gardening pants and took the small stack from him with a smile. You knew you were the last house on his route, he had told you as much one morning a few months ago, and so you didn’t worry about the fresh loaf of homemade bread getting squished or damaged in his care. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with butcher’s twine like it was every week, with a small paper tag on it that you wrote down this week’s flavor – roasted garlic and rosemary.

“Thank you Patrick, here’s something nice for you and Shelley. Have a good day!” You handed him the loaf and he didn’t hesitate to take in a big sniff, the garlic was pretty strong but he grinned like it was Christmas morning.

“You’re always so kind (Y/N), thank ya! It smells delicious, you have a good one.” He gave you a small wave before driving down the block.

Heading back towards the house, you started leafing through the letters. One was the cable and internet bill, another was a weekly newsletter of the local community that you had subscribed to, but the third was addressed to Clyde specifically.

It was small and rectangular, and a little dinged up, but it looked like it had traveled a long way to get to Clyde. His name and address was inked in blue pen that had gotten a little smudged, and you could only wonder how many times it had gotten delivered to the wrong place before it finally arrived to your humble home.

“Clyde honey, something came in the mail for you today.” You said as you walked through the door. Your boyfriend was fully awake and munching on some frosted flakes at the kitchen table, reading through a new book he picked up at the library.

“Just put it in the pile, I’ll sort through it later.” Clyde responded sweetly, making you giggle.

“It’s not a bill, someone sent you a personal letter.” You leaned over the table and gave him a morning breath kiss, placing the letter on the table next to his book. “Return address is from Utah, do you know anyone from there?”

You had thought all of Clyde’s family was here in West Virginia. Well, now with Jimmy across state line that might no longer be true, but still you had never heard your man talk about anyone from all the way across the country.

“Can you get me a butter knife?” Clyde asked, his voice gone quiet as he stared at the letter.  

“Sure thing honey.” You said with a slight frown, grabbing one from the drawer and handing it to him.

Clyde didn’t respond, using the butter knife as a makeshift letter opener to tear through the envelope carefully. Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded into thirds, and was completely covered in more blue ink. From your angle you couldn’t make out the writing exactly, but Clyde’s reaction to it was more concerning to you than the contents.

“Is everything okay? You look a little pale.” You asked, sitting down next to him and hugging yourself close to his arm, the scarred one. He hadn’t yet put on his prosthetic since he had just woken up, but you didn’t mind in the least. You liked that he trusted you enough to be comfortable around you.

“I’m okay.” He said with a deep breath, folding the letter back down and tucking it under his book.

You didn’t want to press the issue, so you just gave him a kiss and moved to the cabinet to get a bowl so you could have some breakfast with him and spend the rest of the morning together.

The next day, Clyde came home early from work and surprised you with takeout from your favorite Chinese restaurant for dinner. You had been watching TV, waiting for him to come home, and at the sound of the front door unlocking you were already running across the house to jump into his arms and cover his face with kisses.

“Honey you’re home!” You grinned, laughing as he lifted you and spun you around.

“Yup, I felt like spending the evening with my favorite lady.” He smiled back at you, giving you one long kiss before releasing his hold on you.

You giggled, still dizzy from the spinning, and took the heavy takeout bag from him. He followed you into the living room where you laid out the spread of containers, and you caught him fidgeting with the buckle on his belt – a nervous habit of his that you picked up on pretty early on.

“(Y/N)?” Clyde said, and you frowned slightly at the apprehension in his voice. “I was wonderin’…if you wouldn’t mind accompanyin’ me to a function this weekend.” He finished, and you were relieved that you didn’t have to prepare for dreadful news.

“You know I’ll always join you wherever you want me to.” You said, sitting on the couch and inviting him to his favorite spot: his head in your lap. “Is this about your friend from Utah? Are they going to be in town?” You asked, thinking about the letter.

“Yup. It ain’t just Tony either, it’s…” Clyde trailed off with a sigh, and your chest tightened for him. You knew there were a lot of things in Clyde’s past that you didn’t really know about, because he had had such a hard time living through them. The last thing you wanted to do was to make him deal with something he wasn’t ready for.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s hard Clyde.” You said, stroking your fingers through his thick and luscious hair.

“I want to tell ya because it’s hard.” Clyde said, sitting up and taking your hand. He took a deep breath and looked you in the eye, something he was trying to be better at when he was nervous. “I know I don’t talk about it a lot, especially with me losin’ m’ arm and all, but I made some good pals overseas in the special forces. Some of them are having a bar-be-cue, a reunion of sorts, and I’ve been invited to go.”

He looked at you almost like he was afraid you’d say no, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face, and he felt a little more relaxed.

“Do we need to bring anything? I can whip up my famous mac n’ cheese.” You said, wanting him to know that you accepted every single part of him and his history.

“You don’t mind bein’ around a whole bunch of tough military types for the day?” Clyde asked, sounding slightly incredulous.

“If they mean a lot to you, they mean a lot to me.” You said, leaning in for a kiss.

Clyde’s heart soared, grinning against your lips as he kissed you back. He hadn’t spoken to his army buddies in a long time, at least since he had gotten a phone – otherwise he would have given them his number to call instead of having Tony send him a letter as the only way to reach him. He was nervous showing you more of that side of him, the side that had gotten injured and all the baggage that came along with it, but you had always been supportive and understanding, willing to listen and to help him through all the other bad parts of his life, he should have known you would be there for him during this too.

For the whole week leading up to the BBQ Clyde was nervous with excited energy. He had done a fashion show for you of different outfits he might wear, wanting your opinion on how he should wear his shirts. Should he shave? Should he cover his arm? Hat, or no hat?

You were patient and glad to help, giving your honest thoughts, like he should wear his shirts how he always does; tucked into his trousers and buttoned all the way up. No he shouldn’t shave, he looks handsome with the scruff he’s got, and no hat, it’ll get too hot.

You were an angel, and Clyde kept telling you that on the three hour drive up to Pittsburg, where Emmanuel lived and was hosting this whole thing. Before you two got out of the car, he gave your hand a firm squeeze, and you simply brought it to your lips and kissed the knuckles with a warm smile.

“Clyde Logan, you gentle giant how are ya?” A stocky man emerged from the front of the house when Clyde’s car beeped locked.

“I’m doing alright Emmanuel, it’s good ta see ya, you’re lookin’ pretty fit.” Clyde said, his demeanor immediately lightening up as he was crushed in a bear hug. The man, Emmanuel, ducked his head in a mock shy manner, before flexing and showing off his muscles.

“Thanks buddy! I’ve been spending a lot of time at the gym; they say swimming helps the back.” He shrugged, and Clyde just laughed. It was the first time he had laughed at something other than a corny joke you had made, and it made you grin.

“Clyde you never told us you had a smokin’ hot girlfriend!” Another man stepped out onto the front lawn, he was taller than Emmanuel, but not as tall as Clyde. You were pretty sure Clyde was always going to be the tallest man in the room, even among these guys.

“Shut up Mick,” Clyde teased without any real malice.

“Come on out back and come meet everyone!” Mick said, and the two of you followed him and Emmanuel through the house to the backyard, where it looked like a picture perfect scene out of a movie.

All the guys who were able rushed over to Clyde, and you couldn’t help but get emotional at how they all pulled him into a hug. It was clear to you that they hadn’t been together in a long time, and it warmed your heart to see them still caring about your man.

He managed to push through their wall of affection, and held out a hand for you, which you happily took.

“Everyone, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Mick and his wife Kayla, Tony and his wife Anna, Ozzie, Emmanuel, and Reuben.” Clyde introduced you, and you shook hands with everyone, leaning over to give them kisses on the cheek like you had known these people your whole life.

“It’s so nice to meet everyone.” You said truthfully.

“I bet Clyde’s told you nothin’ about us!” Ozzie laughed, giving a playful elbow to Clyde’s side. “He still the strong silent type we knew back in the day?” He asked with a grin.

“I’m afraid you’re right. But I wouldn’t have him any other way.” You said, making Clyde blush scarlet. He kissed your cheek and the whole group of men wolf whistled, but you didn’t mind, you liked showing off how in love you were with this handsome man. “I brought mac n’ cheese, I hope that was alright.” You suddenly remembered the huge tinfoil covered tray you were holding.

“Damn Clyde, she’s gorgeous and brings food? You got yourself a keeper.” Tony winked, making Clyde wrap his good arm instinctively around your waist.

“You keep your hands to yourself now Tony.” Clyde warned, but he still had that smile on his face.

You stuck by Clyde’s side the entire night. You didn’t say much, but you didn’t have to. It was the men’s night to reconnect with one another after all these years away. Clyde wasn’t the only one to have gotten injured in the roadside mine that took his arm; it took Reuben’s right leg, and had caused Tony to go deaf in his left ear, and partially blind. None of them paid any attention to anyone’s prosthetics, unless it was to comment on how nice Clyde’s arm looked, with how high tech it was.

As the day progressed and more beers were consumed, they started to reminisce about the days when they were together overseas, each one having a different version of the same story. You couldn’t help but laugh at how Clyde seemed to be the mediator whenever two men bickered over minor details in a story, he had always been the calm and collected one in the group, that much was easy to tell.

Emmanuel brought out his tripod and camera, and they set up a timer to take a couple big group photos right when the light was golden, and you offered to take some photos of just the men. Tony had taken the camera from you afterwards, and told you to go stand over by Clyde, and he snapped a couple pictures of the two of you, grinning at one another like the love sick fools you were.

Everyone talked about what they were up to in life. Mick and Kayla were starting to try and have a baby, Emmanuel was the regional manager for a real estate firm in the area, Ozzie and Reuben were both working on memoirs of their time in the war, and Tony had just gotten married to Anna not five weeks earlier.

Clyde was very humble about his life with you, only saying that he was the owner of a bar back home, and that he spent every minute there or with you. You felt like the luckiest lady in the world with the way he smiled down at you, all you could do was sing Clyde’s praises and tell them about the wonderful things he does for the folks back home.

With the evening came s’mores and the passing around of old photo albums. You couldn’t help but snuggle close to Clyde on Emmanuel’s couch as you tried to get a good luck at a young Clyde with nearly shaven hair and a boy’s face. It struck you then just how young all these guys had been, but how young Clyde was in particular. He looked like he joined right out of high school. Clyde’s grip on your hand tightened as they flipped through the pages, some a little older, one in particular of Clyde showing off the tattoo he had on his forearm. You simply put your other hand on top of his, and squeezed back, silently letting him know you were there for him.

Not so long after that came the somber goodbyes, seeing as you and Clyde had three whole hours to drive back home. It was bittersweet, no one knew when they would all have time to coordinate like this again.

“I’m real glad you came.” Tony said, as he held out his hand for a goodbye shake.

“I’m glad y’all invited me.” Clyde said shyly.

“Are you kiddin’? I went through hell tryin’ to find out where to mail that letter! You’re not an easy man to find Clyde Logan.” Tony laughed, deep and scratchy, like he had been smoking a pack a day since the war.

Clyde released your hand for the first time all evening, to pull out a piece of paper from his pocket.

“Here’s my phone number, I want you to give it to all the guys. In case y’all ever want to call or something.” Clyde said, addressing the whole small party.

As Clyde started to say his goodbyes to the folks he had missed, you went around the room and hugged everyone goodbye yourself. As you pulled away from Mick he discreetly slipped the photo of a young Clyde Logan into your hand.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to him,” Mick started with a hushed voice, “But you’ve lit a fire in him like I’ve never seen before. I’m glad he has you.” He said.

“I’m glad to have him.” You said back, with a heartfelt smile, as you hugged him again.

A week or so later, the mailman brought you a small package from Utah, and some postcards from all over the country, no doubt sent by the other members of Clyde’s group. This time you happily recognized Tony’s handwriting and left it for Clyde to open, as he hadn’t come down for breakfast yet.

You had gone to work, but when you came home you noticed a few additions of décor to your kitchen; framed photographs of Clyde and his friends from the BBQ. One of the group, one of just the men that you had taken, and one of the two of you, smiling down at each other.

Clyde’s arm and tattoo was on full display, but so was the love you two had for one another, and that outshone anything else in the world.

[mila-dans]

Happy Horror Awaits: Barbarella

Chapter two of “Happy Horror Awaits.”

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 3696

First chapter: Visit to a Small Planet

Summary: Doing it alone is your life motto, especially when it comes to hunting. Sure it may be dangerous and sure the Winchesters might not like it but you do. Or that is at least until a certain change of events lead you to believe maybe being alone isn’t the best option.

Just So You Know: This is only my second fanfiction series so please let me know how I’m doing! This chapter is a bit Humid in levels of steaminess but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. The chapters will vary in length but do know, cliff hangers and twists are my specialty! (Gif credit to the wonderous: @supernaturalfreewill​)

You took a peak at the mystery man as your eyes grew ten times bigger. Smiling down at you, with the sun glowing on his face and eyes sparking hazel-green, he pressed his lips into yours once more. This time, you didn’t reciprocate. “Uh,” you started to mumble as he gave you a confused look. “Um…”

“What is it, Y/n?” You stared at him in shock. “Baby?” You rub your eyes again at the startling sight.

“Uh, Sam?”

“Yeah,” Sam answers with a grin and a giggle, “Who else would it be?”

…

Sam’s body leans over on yours and he only stares at you with a smile. He goes back to kissing your neck and you become engulfed in his delightful smell. You couldn’t tell if it was his hair products or literally just his natural scent, but whatever it was, it was good. Really good.

Stop that.

His lips trace every inch of your skin. His soft, luxurious, luscious, lips. They felt as if they were embedded with cotton and laced with silk. They felt so good brushing against your skin.

I need to stop thinking about this. 

Sam moved to your neck as he gently brushed your hair away from your face with his big soft hands. They fel--

STOP IT! Y/n, these thoughts are most definitely NOT okay!

You shake off the thoughts and uncomfortable comfortability that you have in the situation and gulp down whatever outburst that would’ve come out if you had found a complete stranger kissing you. But no, this was Sam.

This is Sam. Sam. Sam is kissing me. Why is Sam kissing me?

You started to turn your head away from his little nibbles as he got closer to your lips. The shocked expression on your face didn’t go away since it appeared. You just stared into the eyes of the glowing and iridescent Winchester as the sun coming from the window hits him perfectly, causing you to try and find anything else to think about other than how freakin’ attractive he was looking right now. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“S--Sa--Sam?” You muttered out. Sam looked down at you and raised his eyebrows in question.

“Yeah?” He asks with a worrisome look.

“Why--um, why are you kissing me?” Your words struggle to come out of your mouth as you begin to say them. Sam forms a content smile with his lips.

“Because,” he starts to lean down to your neck, “You are amazing…” He kisses once. “You are gorgeous…” He kisses twice. “And because you’re my lovely wife.” He kisses your lips again. “And kissing you is my favorite thing to do,” he answers with the biggest smile that you have ever seen Sam Winchester wear. “Well, one of my favorite things to do with you.”

Um… I… um… Hold on a second… Sam is laying half naked on top of me. I pray to God that it is at least half. I mean, it wouldn’t be the worst if he wasn’t. 

You pause your thoughts momentarily as you look up to the younger Winchester and slowly shuffle your eyes downward. 

O--Okay. That’s um…

Sam smiles at you as your eyes meet back up to his. He raises his eyebrow just a bit causing your heart to skip a beat. You gulp again.

STOP IT! Y/n! Get yourself in line! Right! Right. What is he doing?! He--He is kissing me! Why in the hell is kissing me! Wait… I’m sorry... WIFE?!

You start to sit up quickly causing the mammoth of a man to roll off of you. Words seem to disappear from your mouth and mind. Sam reaches for your arm but you yank it away.

“Baby?” He asks, concerned. You stare at him with wide eyes and chaotic thoughts.

“‘Baby?!’ ‘Wife?!’ Sam, what the hell is going on?!” You shout. Sam looks taken aback by your tone and question. You get up from the bed, trying to cover up whatever the nightgown let loose as you stumble throughout the room looking for any sign of normal.

“Honey?” Sam asks cautiously as he stands up and goes over to you. He puts his big hands on your shoulders, causing your composure to shake and heart to melt. You look at the madly muscular man and take very much notice of how he is only in a pair of boxers.

Damn.

Another gulp.

Damn. Look at those biceps… Look at the size of--NO! No, Y/n! No! Bad! Very, very bad!

“Baby, what’s wrong? You seem out of it,” Sam notices. You take a deep breath and move from his grip. You walk around the room and stop in your tracks when you find a picture of you, a very happy you, in Sam Winchester’s arms, with two kids, one of which you met earlier, being held in your arms. You take the picture off of the nail quickly to inspect it.

“This!” You shout as you hold the picture in Sam’s face. “This!”

“Yeah? What about it?” Sam questions, confused.

“How--” You stop speaking once you see a wedding band on your finger. “Wh--What the actual hell is this?!” You start to pace around the room, trying to recall what this was and how the hell you got here.

Okay! Okay! Okay! Calm down! Just, deep breaths, calm down. What do we remember? We remember having a fight with Sam and leaving the bunker. Then what happened? We left the bunker? I don’t know! Why don’t I know?!

Sam goes over and starts to take notice of your clearly upset and unhinged composure. “How about we sit down for a second, Y/n?” He suggests calmly. “Just take a seat and I’ll take the picture frame,” he says, holding out his hands as you reluctantly put the frame into his.

“Yeah,” you mumble. Your eyes try to return to the normal state of shockless expression that they were in prior to the recent events. 

“Good. Good, girl.” 

Did he just say ‘good girl’ to me?

He hangs the photo back on the wall as you remain standing in paralyzing shock. Once done, he takes your hand and guides you so sit on the edge of the bed with him. You follow his lead as you slowly sit down on the mattress, trying to collect your scattered thoughts.

“Sam,” you call out with a shaky breath as you look up to the male model, “What is happening?” 

“Um,” Sam clears his throat. “I’m not exactly sure,” he says with a steady and intrigued voice. “What do you think is happening?” He gives an unsure smile.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” Your voice starts to rise but Sam immediately puts his arms on your shoulders, telling you to remain calm.

“Just walk me through whatever is going on with you,” Sam says with a pleasant and calmed tone. “Okay, Baby?” You look up to him with big eyes as he calls you a pet name for the fifth time in a row.

“Yeah,” you answer hesitantly, “Sure.” You give him a cheap smile and clear your throat. “Right. Um…” You become lost for words as the thought of his big arms around you become much more than just a thought. His arms are actually around you. His arms that were seen in a picture holding you. Your arms are in his arms, and in his arms your arms are there, and your arms have your hand attached to them, and on your hand is a wedding ring. 

WHY IS THERE A WEDDING RING ON MY DAMN HAND?!

“‘Um…’ What?” Sam asks, shifting your focus back to the present moment.

“I don’t know! I just--Sam, I don’t know what’s going on!” You say, starting to begin your confusion filled ramblings. “I just, I remember us fighting back at the bunker and you grilling me about going on a hunt alone! And then I left you because you basically told me to leave and I was really upset. All I can remember is walking out the door and then waking up! Here! With you and you plus kids?! I don’t know what’s happening, Sam!” You exhale and start to rub your eyes trying to see again if this was just some weird dream. Sam pulls you close to him but you push him away. “No! None of this touchy-feely stuff until I understand what the hell is going on!” You demand.

“Okay!” Sam says with his hands raised in plea. “Alright, just, calm down. Take a breath,” he requests and you hesitantly comply. “So you said that you were hunting?”

“Yeah?” You respond not really understanding why he would question both of yours' livelihoods.

“Baby, I’ve never seen you hunt in your entire life and I know that you don’t even know how to properly hold a gun,” Sam explains with a little chuckle. Your eyes get even bigger when he suggests that you don’t know how to properly hold a firearm.

“Excuse me?!” You raise your voice and lean into his face. “I know how to shoot a gun alright! You name the weapon and I’ve used it! Guns! Swords! Lances! Bazookas for Pete’s sake! I can shoot and kill anything with anything!”

“Take it easy, Y/n!” Sam says trying to regain his threatened composure. “Just all I’m saying is that I, I have never known you to kill a turkey or a deer or anything like that. So hunting must just be apart of the dre--”

“Deer?! Turkey?! Sam, I wasn’t hunting, hunting!” You lean in again into Sam’s face as you become five seconds away from stabbing him in the chest from asking if you hunted a freaking deer.

“I’m sorry?” Sam questions.

“Monsters, Sam! I was hunting monsters! A poltergeist! A ghoul!” Your heartbeat starts to rise and race drastically. You stop talking in order to calm down and take a breather.

“Honey, I understand that nightmares can be scary and can feel really, really real but you are here now. You’re safe, okay?” Sam sees your shaking composure and pulls you into his arms. You stare up at him and then back down to the ground, unable to comprehend the sight of shirtless Sam in his underwear with his arms wrapped around your waist and chest. You sort through your thoughts as you try to calm down.

What the hell is happening? Why is this happening to me? What IS happening to me?

“This wasn’t a nightmare, Sam! This was real! It is real!” You stand up again, trying to leave Sam’s embrace, but as you do so, he takes hold of your hand. You look at him and it--he looks like Sam.

“Baby,” he says as he pulls you closer to him and looks into your eyes, “This was just a nightmare. No monsters, no hunting, no bazookas or bunkers. And I promise you, I’d never tell you to leave. I love you far too much for that.” He looks at you with worried eyes but a relaxed and loving presence. You start to calm down momentarily.

Look at him. Look at Sam. This has to be Sam. No other mere mortal could possess those puppy dog eyes or rippling pectoral--stop it! Stop. Whatever is going on, I’ve got to figure it out. And yelling at Sam isn’t going to help. Well, not help the situation at least.

Sam pulls you back onto the bed as he wraps his arms back around your waist. You don’t fight it. It’s just very surprising that this is normal for him to do. You tilt your head down once more, unable to view your surroundings. Your eyes look towards your feet and begin to follow up your leg, completely ignoring the other set of legs right beside it, but you notice something. You reach down as far as you can, with Sam’s big arms still holding you in his clutches, to your feet.

Where...

“What is it, Baby?” He asks as he lessens his grip. You remain focused on your legs and feet and then you look to your arms and shoulders. “Y/n?” Sam asks again. You shake his arms off as you begin to search through the room.

Where are they...

“Mirror,” you say, asking for its whereabouts.

“Um,” Sam stands up and walks over to a closet and opens it. A mirror hangs on the door and you immediately rush over to it. “Why do you need a mirror, Baby?”

Where are they?!

You raise up your nightgown just a bit to the point where you can see your thigh and a bit of the side of your waist. Sam walks up behind you and you see his reflection in the mirror. You turn around and notice that something is wrong with him too.

It’s gone.

“Y/n,” he says again, placing his hand on the side of our neck as the thoughts rush through your mind. “What is it?”

“They--” You try to form words but only manage incomplete sentences. “The scars, the tattoos, they’re all gone. Sam,” you call out as you place your hand on his chest where his anti-possession tattoo used to be, “It’s all gone.” You take a step back and sit on the edge of the bed, placing your head in your hands, trying to think for just a moment.

Everyone of my scars are gone. They are all just gone. The ones from the foster homes, from hellhounds, from my naïve childhood, they are just all gone. I'm as smooth as a freaking baby!

“This has got to be some dream right?!” You ask. “I mean, either this is a dream or--or a djinn, or just some, freaky, freaky accident!” Sam waltzes over and squats down in front of you. You look at him and into his worried and concerned filled eyes. He gently wraps one of his hands around yours and then takes his others to your forehead.

This is weird. I mean, not a bad weird. I’ve just never had Sam this close to me. The way he’s looking at me, holding my hands, it’s so gentle an--and compassionate. What the hell is going on here?

 “Wh--Um, what are you doing?” You question quietly as he gives you a puzzled look.

“I’m seeing,” he stands up, “If you have a fever.”

“Do I? Is that what this is?” You ask. You didn’t really know for sure how a fever would make this possible but ‘fever dream’ was one way to describe the situation.

“Well, I don’t know,” Sam says as he walks around the room and opens a drawer. He gets out a pair of sweatpants and pulls them on. “I mean, you’re a little hot. But what you’re saying sounds like a nightmare. Definitely not something that would come from a fever.” Sam comes and sits back beside you on the bed. He gently brushes the hair away from your face as you remain sitting still. “All that matters is that you’re okay and that you are with me,” he says with a gentle smile. “And yes, you’re with me. No monsters. No nightmares. Just me and you.” He takes his hand and places it on the side of your neck, letting his thumb gently caress your red tinted cheek. “So, are you okay, Baby?”

No. Most definitely not. I don’t know what the hell is going on. Not even a little bit. The only thing that I know is that my name is Y/n and you are Sam. I don’t even know if you’re my Sam. So, no. I’m not okay.

“Yeah,” you let out with a troubled breath. “I’m okay,” you say with an unconvincing smile. There is no way in hell that you could tell him no. Apparently Mr. Hot Stuff here doesn't know anything either, yet knows more about what’s going on than you do. The way he’s looking at you though with all the monster talk, gives off ‘sounds like a mental patient’ vibe rather than ‘I get it’ ones. So, probably best to shut up, keep quiet, and roll with the punches till you figure out what the hell was going on.

Would that make me Mrs. Hot Stuff? I mea--I said shut up!

“You promise?” He asks you again, probably trying to make sure that he didn’t need to make a stop to the psycho ward. You steady your breath and nod your head with his hand still placed on it.

“Yeah, I uh,” you try to clear your throat, “I promise. Just a bad, very bad, dream.” You smile at him again and he leans in close to you. He wraps his idle hand around your torso and uses his other to pull your head closer to his. 

Oh my God. Here we go again.

Sam closes his eyes as he gently places his soft lips onto yours. 

Oh boy.

He opens his eyes for a moment, raising a brow at you and your unwillingness to reciprocate the kiss. Before he can pull his head away and let worried words fall out, you take one of your hands and place it on his back, pushing his body towards yours, and then you take your other hand and run it through his hair, all before you plant a very passionate kiss onto his lips.

The sacrifices we must make in the line of duty.

You two continue to lock lips and move one another’s torso towards the others for what feels like forever.

Oh my God. I am kissing Sam. I’m kissing Sam Winchester. This is so bad…  So very bad…  SHUT UP! God, I really need to stop thinking about this. Let’s get back to thinking about the kiss.

You and Sam were struggling to breath as the more passion persuaded the lips. It was something that was so weird for you to do but at the same time, so relaxing. Sam treated this like it was everyday and you, well, you didn’t really mind it. You just would like to know why in the hell ‘it’ was indeed happening.

The both of you let go of one another before you turned too blue in the face. You were slightly taken aback by a multitude of thoughts, definitely starting with the reoccurring, ‘what the hell?’ Along with some, ‘Sam freaking Winchester is kissing me!’ You couldn’t really scramble through all the thoughts due to the fact you were in definite shock.

“Wow,” Sam said as he gave you a surprised look. “Never done it like that before.” His face starts to get a little red as he can’t hide his smile. “That was... something else.”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” you say as you quickly pull his lips back onto yours and give him another session of certain activities pertaining around the lips.

…

“I...you…” Sam tries to search for words but there aren’t many that can help describe what he was going to say.

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, Y/N!

“Sorry,” you let out, trying to hold back a smile.

“No, no, It’s um... it was... that was just… awesome,” Sam says as another wide smile comes across his face. You and him smile at each other for a moment as your hands leave from one another’s bodies.

“Good,” you say with a delighted and proud grin. “Not too bad yourself, Winchester.” 

Are you flirting with him?! Are you seriously Sam right now?!

“Right back at you Mrs. Winchester,” he returns as he places yet another kiss on your cheek before he stands up and goes over to put a V-neck tee on, leaving your bright red in the face.

SEE? I’m his wife! I’m Mrs. Winchester so it’s okay to flirt and kiss and have s--OH MY GOD! I’M SAM’S WIFE!

“I’m gonna go downstairs and make sure the kids haven’t committed arson,” Sam says as he walks towards the door.

“Arson,” you whisper to yourself as the word and memories rattle your brain. Sam stops himself before he walks away and turns back around to you. You stand up and he races over to you, once again, wrapping your arms around one another.

Third time’s the charm. Wait… fourth? I’ve lost count. Yeah, I don’t care.

Sam leans down as you stand on your tiptoes and become in yet another case of kissing-i-need-disease.

We should really get that looked at by a professional.

Sam lets go of you and you of him, as you look up at one another again. Neither of you can help but grin and giggle.

“Okay,” Sam says, taking a few steps backward, clearly in difficulty of keeping his hands off of you. “I’m gonna um,” he hits the door frame with his back as he nervously walks backwards. “There’s uh--there’s a wall there,” he says with an unwavering boyish smile. You only stare at him and continue to blush with a huge smile. “Yeah um, bye.” He goes through the door and down what appears to be a set of stairs. “Damn,” you hear him say as he trudges downstairs, “I married good.”

Married…

You sit down on the edge of the bed with a big grin on your face as you fall backwards into the soft patented mattress and fluffy white comforter. You stretch out your limbs as you take in your surroundings with big eyes and a very happily beating heart.

Married… Kids… Arson…

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, reliving the moments that brought you such joy. Waking up to kids. Opening your eyes to kisses. More kisses. More kisses. And s’more kisses. 

I have kids… I’m married...

“Oh my God!” you say as you bolt up causing your eyes to become widened and shocked yet again. “I’m married with children!” You shout with a gasping breath. “I’m freaking Al Bundy!”

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Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed!

Tag list (is open!):

@swallow-carrying-a-coconut​ @sl33pybo1

[kitanoko]

In which the doctor meets his match Part 4!!

Note: I haven’t updated this since Sept 2018....y’all thought you seen the last of me HAHA. Finally, things are building up ....... shinsou is also going to meet todoroki EVENTUALLY ~

Read Part 1 here

Read Part 2 here

Read Part 3 here

Warm.

That was the only thing Yaoyorozu could think of when he shook her hands and laid a gaze that lingered on her luscious, mascara-coated lashes a second too long. She unknowingly scratched little circles on the hardcover of her lacquered folder when she looked up and saw the way he’d run his hand through his hair as the two walked out of the meeting room.

It was habit that she had come to notice Todoroki would do whenever he was about to say something but hesistates. A feeling stirred inside her and her arm tensed. It was definitely Aizawa sensei’s fault for making the atmosphere so….strange now, Yaoyorozu thought. She’s going to his office straight away after to demand an explanation!

The receptionist immediately dropped whatever she was doing when the two closed the meeting door, her eyes directing at the white and red haired man. Yaoyorozu knew the receptionist was checking the doctor out and she rolled her eyes.

The elevator slid open after a short while and Todoroki waved a goodbye. He entered, hands naturally smoothing out the bottom of his suit, and pressed the door to ground floor. Yaoyorozu, catching his teeny smile the second before the door fully closed, mirrored his gesture and hugged the newly signed contract to her chest even more as if protecting it.

Yaoyorozu had agreed to conduct a site visit this Saturday (which was sort of silly since she could go to his clinic right now if she wanted to) and cradled the papers in her hand even closer to her heart.

“So he signed?” A voice rose behind her with a teasing tone and she turned to see Aizawa crossing his arms, shifting his body weight on the wall beside him. The smirk that had formed on his face wrinkled his jaw. Yaoyorozu huffed, making sure to be conspicuously annoyed.

“Yes he did sensei…but I cannot believe you! You came in and made it so awkward!”

Aizawa’s smirk did not fade. “I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t like Shinsou.”

At the mention of their rival’s name, Yaoyorozu scrunched her nose. She playfully slapped her mentor’s arm, a tint of pink highlighting her cheeks, and huffed again, earning her a light chuckle from the man.

Just three weeks ago, the aforementioned Shinsou showed up at their doorstep, asking to speak with her. Yaoyorozu was slightly weary –after all, they have never worked together before (and he’d always convince her to quit Erase) but figured if he was coming for an alleged business opportunity, she’d better hold onto the chance. The potential client was a millionaire who wanted to design a chain of malls he had just acquired. Shinsou, being the sole designer in his growing firm, decided to seek help from Erase. Yaoyorozu respected his humbleness and ambition and so had agreed to meet him.

Their discussion was great and from it she learnt a lot about Shinsou’s character. He was overall quite quiet, lips always in a thin line, and hair always disheveled (reminded her a lot of Aizawa to be frank). It was hard reading his expressions. Despite this, deep down, Yaoyorozu knew Shinsou’s passion for design shown through his work. The way he’d use his words to paint a beautiful picture of the planned end product was admirable. Yaoyorozu decided that Shinsou was no doubt a talent that she could learn from. Unfortunately, the deal busted and so they had to terminate the contract. Aizawa began to tease her about Shinsou ever since; he suspected there was something ‘blossoming’ between them but of course Yaoyorozu would scoff every time.

It had bothered her however. Recalling that every time Shinsou had come, Aizawa and the former would always politely greet each other but something about the conversations between them had displayed a familiarity between the two. Yaoyorozu never asked but she had a feeling they had known each other for a long time.

“….I knew you’d bring it up.” Yaoyorozu said, walking beside her mentor.

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s getting phone calls from that guy still.”

“Shinsou and I are STRICTLY business. ONLY.” She emphasized, raising her index finger. Yaoyorozu had met Shinsou for dinner once (on friendly terms) but she wasn’t going to let anyone know that other than her best friends. Aizawa shrugged.

“There’s no conflict of interest by the way, just looking out for my favourite student!”

“Oh please…curl back up in your worm suit and take a nap to rewire your mind.” Yaoyorozu stuck her tongue out childishly at her mentor and took a step towards her desk. She sat down and kicked off her heels and changed to her Tory Burch flats. “Feel free to ask admin to stock up on the white chip macademia cookies in the pantry, I may need some sugar for the weekend.”

Aizawa saw the spark in her eyes. “Sure, you got it,” he said and left.

Yaoyorozu licked her bottom lip and stretched, curling her toes inside her shoes. Cracking her knuckles, she straightened herself in her ergonomic chair.

The designer was starting this project with a bang.

~~

“So?” Kendou asked. She walked over to the table next to the couch to stack the Elle magazines back into a neat pile. “The designer’s going to come in on Saturday, when?”

The sun was setting, casting shadows over Kendou’s perfect bright ponytail and the streets were beginning to fill with crowds of the after-work drinking group. There were quite a few hang out dens  around this area which was something that benefitted Todoroki. He’d often meet up with his longtime friends after his shift.

Todoroki cracked his neck and leaned over the counter with a mug in hand. He was now back in his suit which had cracked Kendou right up because of their contrast. She was wearing an Ivy Park tank with leggings while he looked like he was ready to hit up a gala.

“She’s free any time but I told her to come at 3 since we’d be done by then.”

“Okay, sounds good. Any idea what it’s gonna look like after?”

“It’ll be traditional Japanese-inspired, something I’ve thought about since before our latest renovation.”

“Which may I remind you was only a year ago.”

“Right.”

Kendou cocked a brow, strolling back the other way to grab the purse locked under the front desk. “So what made you suddenly feel like we needed a makeover again? I don’t think we ever got to that.”

The doctor took a sip of his drink, avoiding eye contact.

“There’s never a bad time to make our patients feel at home you know.”

That answer was awfully suspect but Kendou knew there was no point in interrogating the doctor about it. The clinic is his after all and no one but him would know how he wanted to envision the place.

The girl looped her arm through the handles of her canvas bag. “May I also remind you that I doubt anyone’s homes look like a ryokan except for yours?”

Todoroki gave a chuckle, lips resting to a small smile. He looked almost proud. “Yes of course. I guess I wanted to make sure the patients feel like they’re at my home, alright?”

Kendou laughed. “Making jokes now are we? You’re in a chipper mood, doctor. I’m heading out. Tetstutetsu and I are getting yakitori so I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

“See ya.”

With that the orange haired girl hopped out of the clinic with a skip in her steps.

Todoroki’s shoulders slumped a little when he turned his gaze back to the front desk. His eyes landed on a nearby medical poster and he curled his fingers around his mug once more. The office was silent except for the bustle of people’s laughter and chitter seeping through the door and he casually strolled over to switch off all the lights on his right.

The phone beside the mug began to shake and vibrate, then ‘X gon give it to ya’ started booming from it. Todoroki’s brow twitched a little seeing his screen brightening.

It was Bakugou.

“Yea?” Todoroki answered in a monotone voice, lifting his phone to his ear, “What’s up.”

“I hate hearing your voice too, half-n-half,” Bakugou grunted.

Todoroki exhaled a little, chuckling, “Need me for something?”

“No..well yes. But no, not me. Harry Potter says he’s planning a surprise party for his girlfriend uh…you know, what’s her face. Purple hair girl. He wanna check if ya can come with. I don’t wanna go but I will just because I’m feeling generous.”

“What a sacrifice,” Todoroki retorted, pressing the phone between his ear and shoulder, “When is it?”

“This Saturday.”

Todoroki thought for a bit. If Yaoyorozu came around 3:30, he’d be able to make it.

“Sure.” The doctor grabbed his mug and swallowed the last drop of Milo, “Who’s going and when’d you become Kaminari’s secretary.”

Bakugou cursed into the phone. “Fcking bitch is having a panic attack about his cake or whatever that sludge he’s baking. Fcking even gave him the recipe and helped him with most of it and he can’t even squeeze icing properly.”

“You? Baking?” Todoroki said incredulously, “Never thought I’d see the day when you’d bake.”

“For your record, I can fcking C O O K.”

“Yea, I definitely know now.”

Todoroki heard a weensy bit of Kaminari’s whining at the back and Bakugou grunted again.

“Bring some peeps if you want, the dolt over there wanna fill up the apartment, though it shouldn’t be that fcking hard since it’s a two by two square.”

Todoroki gave a half-hearted hum. “I’ll think about it. But tell him I’ll be there.”

“K, bye.” And with that Bakugou hung up. Todoroki stuffed the phone back into his pocket. Walking to the bathroom, Todoroki rinsed his mug in the sink. His reflection caught his attention, seeing his Tom Ford suit reminded him of Erase.

Yaoyorozu.

He eyed the ceiling a bit and back to the mirror in front of him. Fixing his collar with a tug, a thought sprang like ripples on water.

He wondered, would it be crazy to invite her to Jirou’s party?

~~

“JIROU, IM GOING TO PLAY THE MOVIE!!” Ashido’s shrill voice startled Yaoyorozu and the latter quickly turned to her friend.

“We have ears you know.”

Ashido gave a small ‘hehe’ and Jirou snarled at her when she appeared behind the couch. “And some of us have REALLY sensitive hearing.”

“Sorry, just making sure you don’t miss anything. I love this movie!”

The three were chilling together in Yaoyorozu’s house with fuzzy pyjamas and slippers. The fleece blanket that Yaoyorozu so adored fell across Ashido’s lap and Jirou plopped a bowl of popcorn overloaded with butter between them.

“Extra extra greasy?” Ashido said as she stuffed a bunch of popcorn in her mouth and Jirou repeated after her.

“Yes, extra extra greasy. I’m scared for all our arteries.”

“Just do 3 laps tomorrow and you’ll burn it all out.”

This was the designer’s usual entertainment, her friends’ constant bickering.

“….or we could ask Dr. Todoroki for some advice.”

At his name, Yaoyorozu coughed out half-chewed kernels, eyes watering. Jirou quickly handed her water, though her hands were shaking from laughing at Yaoyorozu’s immediate reaction.

“Oh, so now we can’t even MENTION his name?” Ashido guffawed, kicking her legs up and down as the movie’s opening song began to fill the air.

Yaoyorozu squinted her eyes. “I’m going to kick you guys out if you keep at it.”

“Ashido started it!”

“No I didn’t! WAIT SHH the movie!”

Jirou tottered her legs on the couch for a bit as Shrek 2 began and stood up, “Wait can you pause, I have to go washroom.”

The pink-haired girl flicked a popcorn at her and licked her fingers before reaching for the remote. “Ugh why didn’t you go earlier. Fine, we’ll wait.”

When they heard Jirou slide the door to a close, Ashido quickly leaned over to the designer who was leisurely skimming through ASOS.

“Ohh! That top’s really cute Yaomomo! But wait I need to tell you something.”

Yaoyorozu reeled over at her friend who was acting suspicious as if she had a secret and put down her phone.

“What is it?” She asked confounded.

“Kaminari and I are planning Jirou’s surprise Birthday, it’s going to be Saturday.”

“Oh sounds fun! Where?”

“It’ll be at his place, can you bring some snacks?”

Yaoyorozu grinned, “Of course I can. Anything else you guys need help with?”

Ashido twirled at lock of hair playfully. “Nope I think we’re all good. Show up at 7, we’ll all hide and wait for Kami to bring her in.“

“I have a client to see right before but I should be there on time.”

Seeing the way her friends’ eyes glistened, Yaoyorozu could tell she knew who ‘the client’ was.

“Oh…come on, bring the doctor.”

“What! I’ve only talked to him twice. That’s absurd. He would think I’m interested in him.”

“Hey, all relationships starts off with friendship of some degree. Fine, bring Shinsou then.”

Yaoyorozu rolled her eyes, “No and no.”

“Aww…come on…we need some hotties in the room, well other than us of course.” Ashido burst out giggling at her own humour, “I did hear that Kaminari’s bringing a bunch of his friends over so it’ll be sooo much fun, I can’t ---“

“WAIT..she’s back!” Yaoyorozu whispered and the two girls quickly retrograded to their previous positions. Jirou walked in, not suspecting a thing.

“So ready for some Shrek?” Ashido asked, reaching out for the glass of lemonade slicked with condensation. It was a good thing Yaoyorozu and her had fast reflexes.

Jirou jumped back onto the couch, “Yup, ya betcha!”

~~

Watching her work so precisely and meticulously, he found himself feeling as though he was intruding. Yaoyorozu was prisoned in focus – perhaps in her own world where nothing mattered except to make her designs come to life.

The doctor was curious, careful eyes admiring how she’d measure every obscure thing in his office. Every angle should direct the audience to a certain highlight, Yaoyorozu had explained. He just nodded as if he understood.

Todoroki made sure to give her enough space so she can do her work.

“Mm, maybe if I put that over here…” The designer muttered to herself, tapping her chin. Forming dialogues in her head while working was a habit of hers.

Todoroki noticed Kendou mindlessly wiping her computer monitor, but the receptionist’s gaze was towards the designer.

“If you keep that up, your monitor’s going to break.”

Kendou snapped out of it and smiled sheepishly.

“It’s after hours, you can go you know.”

“Oh I know,” Kendou said, now directing her gaze at him. She walked closer and whispered, hand cupping her mouth slightly. “I remember her now. She’s gorgeous, I can’t believe she’s so talented as well. Ugh, look at her dress, I want that sense of fashion.”

Todoroki shifted his attention to the designer. Yaoyorozu was donning a tight crew neck black top with an A-line skirt painted with bright patterns. Her hair was up in her usual pony tail though it looked curlier than usual. Large round hoops hung on her ears, glinting gold, while the watch she had on was one with classic black leather straps.

“Hm.” Was all Todoroki said.

Kendou huffed. “Oh you boys don’t know what fashion is.”

The doctor ignored her snarky comment, hands shoved back into his pockets and began to walk over to the woman who was now packing up her materials.

“So, I assume everything’s done?”

Yaoyorozu swiveled around, finding herself staring into gunmetal and cyan. His minty breath too close.

“Um---“She ended up stuttering, taking a step back, “Yes, almost! I’ve got what I need for the most part, I will be coming back quite often however. What’s your schedule? I’d suggest 2 months of closure so by mid-October at the latest?”

“That sounds good.”

The clock on the wall read exactly 5 p.m. and the designer found herself feeling relieved. Plenty of time for her to go back home and freshen up before the party. Kendou was now waving her goodbyes and heading out, leaving the two lost for words at each other’s company.

Todoroki rested a hand on his neck, scratching the area right around the nape and exhaled.

“Are you busy tonight?”

The woman puckered her lip.

“Tonight? I have plans with my friends.”

“…I see.” His chest sank, though keeping his voice light. Nonetheless the woman could sense the disappointment.

“Is there something you wanted to do? If you want to talk about the project, I’d be happy to discuss.”

Todoroki shook his head, the little pieces of white hair hanging right between his brows. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh.”

Things went quiet between them again. The rustle of Yaoyorozu’s purse that squished between her arm was the only distraction before the designer decided to head off.

“Thanks, I’ll see you—“

“Soon.” He finished for her in haste and meekly smiled at his outward response. Yaoyorozu reciprocated the gesture before the phone in her purse began to vibrate.

“Sorry I have to take this.” The woman said, pushing open the door. She added cheerily, “Bye doctor!” With a wink she left, the last sound of her heels’ clicking echoing away.

Though he was slightly disgruntled at his failed attempt to invite her to Jirou’s party, Todoroki’s heart skipped a beat. Not that it was his first time hearing anyone call him doctor. But what was it that made her saying it so….enticing?

[lia-jones]

Growing Stronger - Chapter Twenty-Four - Olives and Handkerchiefs

My great-grandfather was nothing if not a man of vision. Having grown up in extreme poverty, he spent his childhood days begging and stealing vegetables and fruit from other peoples’ orchards and farms so he could feed his family. His dream was to own land that would reach as far as the eye could see, and build it up with trees and animals, so food could be grown there, and no one in his family would have to starve ever again. So, when he became a man, he did everything he could to make that dream come true. Because he was too poor to go to school, he couldn’t read--only do some basic math--so he taught himself. A lonely tailor taught him his trade and provided him with enough knowledge to try and make a life for himself. He went to Oporto to work as a tailor for the elite.

My grandmother said he never stopped working for a single day, even when he was married and the father of five children: two girls and three boys. And finally, when my grandmother, the oldest of all the children, turned fifteen, he had finally saved enough to buy the land he had dreamed of. It wasn’t perhaps as grand as his ambition would have had it, but even so, vast enough so that, after it was filled with trees and animals, it could feed an entire village.

Unfortunately, my great grandfather’s dream was short-lived. Fate would have it that, while traveling to the city with his wife to buy provisions, he would lose the control of the wagon, ending his life and his wife’s at the bottom of a cliff. My grandmother was left an orphan, with four other mouths to feed, and a huge piece of land that she had no idea how to capitalize.

That didn’t stop my grandmother, though. She was desperate, and she had a determination that would be very much alive inside of her until the day she dies. Understanding that pretty much everyone in the village was barely scraping by, she offered her land to feed the small village provided she had the help necessary to feed her own family. The neighbor lands struggled to bloom due to the lack of water, so she worked her own land so the spring in her field would water all the other plantations, and, in time, she created the amazing farm she had in the present day, devoted to the production of high-grade olive oil. To that day, one week a year, there would be a large celebration on her farm, and all the villagers would help harvest her olives, thanking her for the cooperation of years ago.

It’s said my mother’s family blood makes strong women, and so far that was true. My grandmother raised an entire village on her own, my mother left the village to become a notorious therapist and researcher, and I… had been abused by a violent prick. Obviously I didn’t get the strong gene. And that made my family worry for me. Although no one ever blamed me for anything, I couldn’t help but feel like the ugly duckling. Even though I knew my family loved me to pieces, they couldn’t help but look at me with sorrow in their eyes, sad I wasn’t strong enough to fight an abusive man.

As I drove with Victor to my grandmother’s farm, I felt like things could be different now. I had finished my doctorate with the highest praise, had a good job as a researcher in a good institution, and was dating a great man. Maybe this time I could prove my worth to my grandmother, show her I was worthy of the Collaço name. The thought was as exciting as it was terrifying.

“So, garfo means fork.” Victor closed his Portuguese for Foreigners book, seeing if he had all those words memorized.

“Yes.”

“ Foca means knife.” He looked at me for approval. I laughed. He glared at me.

“ Foca means seal. The word you want is faca. ” I kept my eyes trained on the road, as I drove us to my grandmother’s farm.

“ Faca. ” He repeated. “Glass is copo.”

“It can be a glass or any kind of cup. It’s the container that is used to drink liquids. It can be paper, glass. My grandma has clay cups.” I explained.

“For the vinho.” Victor offered. “Very rustic.”

Half an hour later, we were arriving at the village my grandma lived in. It was a really small village, with only a dozen houses, a pharmacy, a supermarket, and a small church. And woods all around, luscious green as far as the eye could see.

My grandmother was already waiting for me at her door when I parked the car next to my mother’s. She was her usual self, a serious expression on her face, all dressed in black, golden Viana earrings in her ears.

“My beautiful child!” She spoke in Portuguese, opening her arms to me.

“Hello, Vó. ” I greeted, embracing her. “I brought someone for you to meet.”

“Yes, your mother told me you were bringing your foreigner boyfriend.” She frowned. “Why do you keep dating these snotty boys from the city? Look at him, so polished, he looks like a candlestick! You need a real man, with hair on his chest and some meat in the bones!”

Victor smiled, oblivious to what was being said about him.

“ Vó , be nice.” I warned her and took Victor’s hand, bring him to my grandmother. “Victor, this is my grandmother, Bia. Vó , this is Victor, my boyfriend.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Victor shook her hand, speaking in Portuguese.

“Same.” She replied, eyeing him up and down. “Come, I’ll take you to your rooms so you can change your clothes. We have work to do.”

Victor looked at me to translate what she said.

“We are taking our stuff to our room, then we’ll go olive picking.”

As we arrived in one of the rooms, with a double bed, my grandmother turned to me.

“Leave your things here. You’ll be sleeping here with Cristina.” She ordered.

“Wait, what about Victor?” I complained.

My grandmother turned to both of us, her expression stern.

“It’s very simple.” She spoke slowly in Portuguese, gesturing so Victor could understand. “Girls in one room.” She made a circle with her right hand. “Boys in the other.” She extended the index finger of her left hand. To our absolute embarrassment, she inserted the index finger in the circle and started pulling it in and out. “No funny business in my house, understood?”

Victor swallowed hard as I watched all the color draining from his face, and then returning in a bright red.

“She said-”

“No need!” Victor interrupted me. “I understood clearly.”

“You, come with me.” She pointed at Victor and raised her voice, speaking slowly. “I’m going to show you your room.”

“Vó, he just doesn’t speak Portuguese, he is not deaf.” I scolded her softly.

“You and your mother and these foreign in-laws you bring.” My grandmother shook her head. “There is nothing wrong with Portuguese men, you know.” She then turned to Victor. “Come, Stretchy. Let’s see if I can fit you in one of my beds.”

It was clear that my grandmother didn’t exactly approve of the CEO in my life, and it would take her time to accept it. Knowing my grandmother, I knew she would test and push him in any way she could, and that made my stomach turn with worry. Victor, on the other hand, looked serene and confident, completely up for the challenge. That somehow eased my mind and allowed me to enjoy my time spent with family a little bit more. Everything would be ok, I told myself. We were not alone. My parents and Josh and Cristina loved Victor, and they would vouch for him. And Victor being his extraordinary self, it was only a matter of time before she would see what a true man of value he was.

We arrived at the field filled with rows of olive trees, ready to work. We geared up with gloves and a small saw to cut some branches, and started working on the tree my parents were.

“I see you arrived safe and sound.” My mother greeted us. “Andy, teach Victor how it’s done.”

“Ok, so you take the branch from its base.” I took a branch and tighten my grip somewhat nearest to the trunk. “Then you slide to you, pulling the leaves and the olives. Just let them fall on the ground. It’s ok if you step on some, but try not too.”

“I take the leaves as well?” He furrowed his brows.

“Yes, will we separate the leaves from the olives later on, with a special sifter.” I explained. “Give it a try.”

Victor pulled the branch somewhat clumsily at first, but soon he got the hang of it. My mom smiled with pride.

“We have ourselves a picker.” She offered. “Your grandmother will be pleased when she sees this.” Insightful as always, she quickly picked the look on our faces, and turned to Victor. “Don’t worry, she’s hard at first, but she’s a softie deep inside. Reminds me of someone I know.”

I stifled a laugh.

“Ok, this one is pretty much done.” My mom took a last look at the now almost completely naked tree. “Andy, you and Victor take the next one, we take the other next to yours. Let’s make this interesting for our entrepreneur.”

“You mean a contest?” Victor smiled, pleased with the suggestion.

“That’s right.” My mother clapped the dust out of her gloves. “The first to clean the tree, wins.”

Suddenly Victor, who seemed completely out of his element before, was now completely engrossed in the olive picking task, cleaning branch after branch with amazing speed. The look on his face was a focused yet relaxed one, and I wondered for a moment if he remembered that across the ocean, miles and miles away, he was a business shark, owner of a company worth millions. Not even his clothes would differentiate him from the rest of the group. He looked like a countryman, working hard on the land, taking pleasure from harvesting its fruits. And I had to say, it suited him well.

Across the field, a group of women chanting the Portuguese well-known tune.

“Ó rama, ó que linda rama,

Ó rama da oliveira,

O meu par é o mais lindo,

Que anda aqui na roda inteira.”

Soon, everybody was singing in unison, all busy disrobing the tree branches, including my family and… me. When I finally noticed, Victor was frozen, staring at me, a loving smile on his lips. I shut up immediately, blushing.

“Don’t stop on my account. You have a beautiful voice.” He glanced at me, still smiling smugly, as he took another branch to strip it clean.

I eventually overcame my shyness and resumed my singing with the crowd. After a while, Victor was joining us too, humming the tune.

“Stretchy, I have a job for you.” I heard my grandmother talk to Victor behind me. “Are you strong?” She unceremoniously pinched his arm. Victor seemed to understand, and he nodded promptly. “Tell him to help me take the olive bags to the truck.” She asked me.

“She needs you to carry some of those bags to the truck.” I translated. “Do you mind?”

“Absolutely not.” Victor turned to my grandmother with such a ceremony I almost expected him to salute her and yell ‘Sir, yes Sir!’. Instead, he stretched his arm, motioning her to lead the way. My grandmother eyed him up and down and scoffed, walking away.

A lot of men would be deterred by this. My grandmother went out of her way to show him that despite him being a successful and rich man, she was not impressed. Part of me believed that she was making him carry those bags only to break his back and prove her point. What she didn’t know was that the man I loved was as strong-minded as she was, and wouldn’t shy away easily from a challenge. Besides, the guy worked out on a daily basis, and carried me in his arms as if I was made of air. A bag of olives was nothing to him.

I watched them go with a cocky smile on my face, when I heard someone talk to me in Portuguese.

“Is that your boyfriend?” The old woman from the village asked. “He’s very handsome!”

“Yes, he is.” I quipped, unwilling to keep that conversation going.

“He is very successful too.” My mother chimed in. “A millionaire.”

“Andrea! You won the lottery! Gorgeous, polite, rich… Oh, just look at that…” She sighed.

And I did. The heat must have had the best of him, because he took off his grey sweater, and was now wearing a white t-shirt with his dark blue chinos, his sweaty muscles visible with the strain of carrying the heavy bag on his shoulder, the t-shirt rising slightly, allowing his well-defined abs to come to view. Seeing him like that made me feel suddenly very hot… And it wasn’t the sun.

He looked my way and smiled seductively, noticing I was all flustered on his account. I smiled back, letting him know I was enjoying what I was seeing. A second later, his face fell and he looked away, his cheeks turning bright red. I looked behind me to see what he had seen, surprised with his reaction. I then noticed the group of old women behind me, all of them also flushed and sighing as they watched my boyfriend go by. I took a fallen olive branch and waved it in front of her eyes.

“Let’s get back to work, ladies! Shame on you! You are all married!” I scolded. I heard my parents cackle in the tree behind me.

“Well, we are married, not gelded!” One of them complained, walking away.

“We can’t help it if he’s so easy on the eyes! If you have it, flaunt it!” Another chimed in.

“Oh, he was flaunting it, alright…” Another sighed, waving her handkerchief to cool herself.

I felt slightly guilty for being such a hypocrite, as I turned his way again and enjoyed the wonderful view of his cute butt moving as he picked one of those heavy bags from the ground. Easy on the eyes was an understatement. That man was hot as sin, and I was looking forward to getting burned.

I was startled with the sound of my grandmother clearing her throat, a look of disapproval on her face.

“We need you in the kitchen.” She said with a grumpy voice.

“What?” I stupidly asked, still dazed with the view.

“Is the sun cooking your brain? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, the girls these days! Get going!” She scolded impatiently, and I practically ran to the kitchen.

An hour later, someone rang the bell, letting the workers know it was time to place the tables outside for lunch. I smiled as I secretly watched Victor carrying some chairs, his bangs matted to his forehead with sweat. My grandmother must’ve done a number with him, but he looked happy. Point for Victor.

I started serving lunch to the people outside, lamb stew in clay bowls with a piece of cornbread on the side, and all the wine one could wish for. I watched Victor struggle with the lack of utensils, since the only thing he was given was a fork. I came to his rescue as I served the rest of the people.

“The meat is tender enough to cut with the fork, and you push the food into the fork with the bread.” I whispered behind him.

“Aren’t you coming to eat?” He turned to me.

“In a second. I need to make sure everyone is served first.” I patted his back.

“I’ll save you a seat next to me.” I heard him behind me, as I moved quickly to distribute bowls of food to everyone.

After everybody had a bowl of food, we placed the big clay pots in another table nearby, in case anyone wanted a second serving. I took some food for myself and went to sit next to Victor… Only to find my grandmother was sitting right there. Victor saw me coming and got up, so I could sit on his chair.

“Sit here, I already ate.” He offered, looking a little sad for not being able to sit with me.

“Where do you think you are going? You aren’t finished yet!” My grandmother pulled him down by his arm, speaking in Portuguese. “Marília, get another serving for Stretchy here!” She called another woman that she saw was getting up. “Got to put some meat on those bones, you are too thin!” She pinched one of Victor’s fingers, showing him how skinny it was. Victor paused, seemingly trying to understand the situation.

“Andy, sit here.” Josh, who was sitting in front of Victor, scooted to make room for me. “You don’t need to eat more if you don’t want to, Victor. Portuguese moms want to feed you until you burst.”

“It’s not much of a sacrifice.” Victor confessed. “The food is delicious.”

I sat down and started eating, observing Dona Bia and Victor. She still wore her stern expression, while Victor seemed to be in a good mood and perfectly relaxed. While she was going out of her way to show him she didn’t like him, he was dead set on winning her over. They were both stubborn mules, so I suspected we were in for quite a treat with these two.

After eating, I helped the other women clear the table and the men went to finish harvesting from the last trees. The next step would be the next day, separating the olives from the leaves, and taking them to the mill, where they would be pressed to produce olive oil.

It was already late in the afternoon when we finished washing the vast amount of dishes. My mother was already busy peeling cloves of garlic.

“Where’s Victor?” My mother asked me as I returned from the other room.

“I don’t know. Probably on some task grandma gave him.” I sighed.

“You know, we could really use him in the kitchen. He’d do this in a blink of an eye.” She showed me the garlic cloves she had yet to peel, a bored look on her face.

“He would.” I smiled, sitting close to her. “Let me help you, you’ll finish faster.”

“What are you girls talking about?” My grandmother entered the room. “You need to hurry with that, we have to season the meat with that.”

“We were saying Victor would be a great help in the kitchen.” My mother answered. “Where is he anyway?”

“Would he?” My grandmother frowned. “That would be a first. A man in the kitchen with the women.” She laughed.

“Mother, times have changed.” My mother scolded lightly. “Men can cook. And Victor is great at it. Got training with a known chef.”

“Men these days…” Grandma shook her head. “He’s with Josh cutting dead tree branches. Where he should be. Men don’t belong in the kitchen.”

I felt sorry for Victor, knowing he would be under the afternoon sun, working those sweaty muscular arms, bringing the saw back and forth. At least he wouldn’t mind the sleeping arrangements that much, he would pass out the moment his head would touch the pillow. And fortunately, dinner was coming soon. Provided we worked a bit faster.

After a while dinner was served. A vast selection of dishes, including Cozido à Portuguesa, Rojões à Minhota and Caldo Verde. As it seemed to be the rule, my grandmother was adamant in keeping Victor and I apart, so she put me on dessert duty, making the rice pudding and Aletria while they ate.

After my long journey in the kitchen, manning the stove, I was finally able to sit down and eat, chatting with the women washing the dishes. I wondered where Victor was, hopefully Josh was with him, helping him cope with all the new he was being immersed in. I was slightly worried he was hating it all, just enduring it to humor me.

“What are you still doing there?” Cristina interrupted me. “Where’s your skirt and handkerchief?”

“Crap, is it today?” I almost jumped from my chair. “Oh, nevermind, Victor is probably tired and not in the mood to dance.”

Every year, on the last Saturday of the olive harvest, the village would have a dance to celebrate the community’s spirit of mutual help and cooperation. My grandmother gladly hosted the dance, providing her huge barn for the festivities, as well as food and drink. But this dance had something special though: the men of the village would get together and pick flowers in the fields, and they would go to each house and offer those flowers to their women, who were waiting by the window, as an invitation to the dance, while they offered them perfumed Viana handkerchiefs, that they embroidered themselves. My grandmother insisted I did one myself, years ago, so I could give it to my future husband.

The tradition asked that the men wore a red waistband, and the women a skirt. I was rummaging my grandmother’s closet to see if I could find a traditional that fit me when she entered the room.

“Well, I guess it’s time I give you this.” She handed me the handkerchief I had embroidered years ago, full of flowers and a dove, and the words O nosso amor só vai acabar quando esta pomba daqui voar (Our love will only end when this dove flies away from here.).

I looked at the old woman in front of me, the stern look on her face gone. Only love in her eyes.

“You approve of him?” I smiled.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?.” She begrudgingly admitted. “Just don’t let him hurt you like the other one, do you hear me?” Her voice quivered.

I held her tight, tears spilling from my eyes.

“He won’t hurt me, Vó. ” I assured her. “He is a good man.”

My grandmother wiped a few tears from her eyes, clearing her throat. She had more in common in Victor than she would ever care to admit.

“Now go.” Her stern face was back in place. “Stretchy is waiting for you outside.”

I put on the skirt in a haste, not believing my own ears. But sure enough, as I left the room, I started hearing the guitars playing outside, and male voices singing the known song “Menina que estás à janela” (Lady by the window).

“Andrea!” My mother called, excited. “Look who’s here!”

There he was, in all his glory, and my heart stopped. Victor had changed clothes in the meantime, wearing a white shirt with black pants and the typical red band around his waist. Without a second look, he was a villager. He smiled widely at me, as I stood by the open window, stretching his arm to offer me the makeshift bouquet of wildflowers he had collected.

I ran to my room to spray my handkerchief with my perfume, the one I knew he liked best. I bolted downstairs to meet him, and without a second thought, I threw myself in his arms, my heart bursting with joy. He held me tight, a warm chuckle vibrating in his chest.

“Will you give me the honor of coming with me to the dance?” He presented the bouquet ceremoniously.

“How could I say no to such a thoughtful invitation?” I put the handkerchief in his hand, closing his fingers around it. His smile widened and he presented his arm for me to take.

As he led us to the dance, he looked at the embroidered piece of cloth I gave him, bringing it to his nose.

“It’s scented. Did you make it yourself?” He gave me a tender smile.

“A long time ago. Carefully kept to be given to someone very special.” I looked back, and saw my grandmother at the window, looking at us and smiling.

Victor pulled me to him as we walked, hugging me tight with his arm. A huge wave of happiness and affection hit me and almost made me lose my senses, drunken with his smile, and his scent, and his warmth. I didn’t know where the future would lead us, life could be so complicated sometimes, but I was certain I would never love any other man like I loved Victor. And now that he was finally letting me in, trusting me with the darkest corners of his mind, I felt that love so much more real and possible.

The name fitted him just right. He was a victor, alright. He had won my heart, and my family’s, and even managed to melt the hardest one of all. Not because he was ambitious, or cunning, or insistent. Because he had this immense light inside of him, and whenever he let it show, one couldn’t help but fall in love.

[yennefer-fan]

SDCC INTERVIEW WITH LAUREN HISSRICH

https://thewitcher.tv/sdcc-interview-with-lauren-hissrich

Along with interviewing actors Anya Chalotra and Freya Allan, we had the honor of speaking with showrunner Lauren Hissrich. While we learned so much from the panel, we were able to discuss aspects of the show in further detail. Below are the highlights from the interview (questions and answers edited for clarity and brevity):

How excited are you for this?

Crazy excited! I'm still basically vibrating after that panel. I went online on Twitter to do an AMA which I had to ask what that meant, but, “Ask Me Anything.” I was trying to keep up with questions, and someone finally was like, “It's been an hour.” I had to move up from my phone, because I'm so excited that the world is finally getting to see a glimpse of what we're doing.

What's your favorite part about?

My favorite part was making sure that we're giving all the characters their due. To me, the story is about Geralt, but also Ciri and Yennefer. The most exciting thing is really digging in and discovering who these women were, before Geralt, made sense that we're not just seeing them through his lens. But we're seeing them sort of find themselves first and be the heroes of their own journeys. And then once these characters come crashing into each other, it's all about how they impact each other, and how they change each other. That was fun to do.

What was the casting process like?

In terms of Geralt, Ciri, and Yennefer- they're all difficult to an extent. Because I'm, I was always afraid. The interesting thing is Anya, we actually cast first as Yennefer, she was the very first piece of the puzzle. We saw hundreds of auditions, and there was something about her. She had such a fierceness, but also such a sort of innate vulnerability. She was the first piece of the puzzle that came in.

Casting Freya as Ciri was also really difficult. We started with a very young, in the first script, Ciri was 11. Very quickly we started looking at 11-year-olds, and we realized a couple things. One, the production constraints of this show. It's a huge endeavor, we shot for a lot of days, and a lot of nights actually. And when you're shooting with someone that young, it's very restrictive.

One of the first things that I was told is that someone that young [of a] Ciri is not going to be able to be that big of a part of the story. And I was like, well, that's not going to work. So we did age up the character a little bit.

Freya, actually, we had cast her as another character in the first episode, and she was signed, sealed and done for that. I couldn't find a Ciri that I loved. Sophie Holland, our casting director, actually called me and said, “I'd love you to think about Freya Allan for this.” So I flew over to London, and we cast Freya that day.

And then Henry. Henry is a big fan of the franchise, and started reaching out to me before I had the script, before I had been greenlight, [or] write anything. Finally I sat down at a meeting, and was like, “Great. You're super nice. I'm glad you're really enthusiastic, but like we're not there yet.”

It took about four months, and we met. I met 207 potential Geralts, and I realized in that writing process, I actually I had Henry’s voice in my head the whole time. So I called him and we met in New York, he read for the part and again, and cast him that day. Every time that the decision was made, it was made in that moment and I just knew it was right.

The trailer was so dark and gritty, but will there be any funny aspects of the show?

It's funny, we tried a couple of different versions of the of the teaser with some some wit in it, because it's all through the show. I mean, obviously, I think the show is super dark. It has some really tragic things in it- some really dark things.

We always kept an eye to what real people do when faced with tragedy, and oftentimes they find the humor in it, because it's the only way to walk through the world. So storytelling wise, we always try to keep that in mind.

Teaser wise? The teaser was so big and so dramatic that anytime we would try to add something funny in you'd be like, “Oh, no, no, no, no.” We tried many versions, but yes. In the show itself, there's a lot- especially Geralt’s dry wit and Jaskier annoying him as much as humanly possible.

Will there be Easter eggs for fans of the games or books?

You know, it follows the books pretty closely, what I like to say is that we also, we find the things between the lines in the books, so there are events and books or moments in the books that you just kind of speed by them. And as a reader, you're like, “Okay, I get it, I understand we have 587 pages here that we've got to get through.”

But if you had a chance to push, pause, and dig into that moment a little bit more, there's lots of that in the first season. I think watching every episode, fans of the books themselves are going to understand every story we're telling- they're going to find the moments. We actually took the lines from the books as dialogue. So we did our best to honor them. But I also think there's a spattering of some fun, new things that aren't in there to really enhance the stories that we wanted to tell.

In terms of the games, no, we're not related to the games at all. So there aren't really easter eggs for gamers there, but I'm a huge fan of the games. So I think that if you love them, you probably love them because you love the characters. You love the tone of the stories, and those things will definitely be present in the show.

What was the biggest obstacle you encountered?

The weather. We shot a lot of different places, and it's a very big show. Our crew is about 300 people, and we carried most of them with us most of the time. And [they are] the most dedicated sort of tireless crew ever.

I think I mentioned on twitter at some point like I need to stop writing like “exterior woods, night.” Because there's a lot there's a lot of darkness and a lot of rain. A lot of weather, I would say that's really it. I mean, it was trying to to keep going day after day, when the world seemed to want to kill us, the actual planet seemed to want to kill us! But no, everything else was kind of a joy. Honestly, I mean, we feel we also so lucky to be able to be bringing this to life.

So you said you thought 207 other possible Geralts? What made you come back to him?

So much. So, you know one of the great things about Henry himself, he that he likes to just as a person, he likes to sit back and watch and sort of take in and process and not constantly verbalize everything. And that's something that he brought to Geralt that was really amazing.

In the first version of the first episode, I'm a writer so I'm like, Geralt has so many words. And I think you'll see by the finale, we really have toned down kind of how much he says because Henry himself is able to emote so much and bring so many different layers to this character without saying a word.

How long did it take Henry to get used to those luscious locks? How much does that hair play into his character?

It plays in so much! So you know, I'm not an actor, so I don't really understand it. There's something that happens when you put on the costume, and you put on the wig, and you put in the contacts. What's really funny is that we all got so used to seeing Henry with the the luscious gray locks, and the yellow eyes that when you see him not with them, you're like, “Who are you?”

He sent me a picture over Christmas to say ‘Happy Christmas,’ and it was him and Kal and he just had his normal dark hair. And I did one of those things of like, “Who is this man?” He owns it and he embodies Geralt so fully.

What about the fighting style? You will be seeing seeing a lot of fighting, which means that you were seeing a lot of Henry, so Henry did not have a stunt double he does all of his own work. Anytime you see him, it's it's really him. Which means that he trained nonstop. Always had swords in his hand. He was always in the training room with his team.

Part of what we had to do is then adapt the fighting style to Henry. So it's, you know, you read in the books, and it's all about pirouetting and dancing. Then you take a 6’ 3” man and you say, “Pirouette!” And he's like, “Um...” So no, it really was about finding the right balance between what we would read that Geralt does in the books and what Henry does, and sort of finding and marrying those things together. Because again, we wanted to make sure that that was the best portrayal of the fighting.

[lil-creatorwritings]

Turning Tables [Mitsuhide Akechi]

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Mitsuhide Akechi x MC (Natsuki)

Word Count: 1916 words that love to tease--wait what this is even longer than the first one

Warning: NSFW. Honestly, why would you think it’s anything else? xD

A/N: Y’all should thank (or blame) @xathia-89 for the idea she planted in my head, and it pretty much went downhill from there. And for letting me borrow her OC again. xD I didn’t think it was appropriate to change OCs at this point lol. The business jargon inserted here is made up. If it doesn’t make sense, don’t think too much on it, because I sure didn’t. Sequel to Phone Call.

---

The late night variety show played in the background of the dimly lit living room. It had been an hour since they talked on the phone, and Natsuki already missed her lover’s voice. Dinner had been neatly packed and stored for tomorrow, or in case Mitsuhide comes home in the next couple of hours. She still hoped that he would, no matter what time that would be.

She opened her phone to check her messages. Nothing. His last text was nearly thirty minutes ago, which meant that they could be in the middle of a good discussion.

Her mind came back to the call earlier. It been steamy enough to give her some momentary satisfaction, but she still longed for him. Simply ‘rubbing one out’ wouldn’t ease the ache she felt inside. She could still recall the dominant tone in his voice, how he teased her with his words. The original intention was for her to tease him, not the other way around. He certainly knew how to turn the tables on her. If there was a way to get back on track with that..

Natsuki bolted up from her seat, shutting the program off before skipping to their bedroom. She giggled over the idea brewing in her head, and this time, she would certainly be the one teasing him.

Over at the conference room, the meeting took longer than Mitsuhide had anticipated. Nobunaga wanted everyone’s input and opinion, which sprouted to several routes of action. Not all of them were productive, as Masamune offered to set the competition’s building on fire as a means of hindering their operations.

“Masamune, that’s a crime.” Ieyasu jabbed at him.

“Yeah, but it’ll be fine as long as no one catches me!”

They all rolled their eyes at him. Hideyoshi looked over at him with a hint concerned. “I know you’re smarter than that, but please don’t do things like that. It’ll give the company a bad reputation.”

Mitsuhide leaned back on his chair before he felt his phone vibrate. Curious, he fished it out of his pocket, seeing that it was a message from Natsuki. And with an attachment? That was quite unusual. What could be so urgent that couldn’t wait for when he got home?

His eyes widened briefly upon the image’s completion.

The bathroom floors were pristine as the photo showed Natsuki in quite a revealing outfit; a lacy two piece lingerie in a baby blue shade. The view of the camera was above her, positioning herself in such a way that showed off her delectable curves and breasts. He raised an eyebrow as he sent her a reply.

M (9:57 PM): That’s quite the outfit you have there, little mouse.

Not a minute later, his phone vibrated again.

N (9:57 PM): I can show you more of it, if you like.

He laughed under his breath before he received another photo. This time, she sat sideways on the bathroom counter, making sure that her ass was in just the right angle. His eyes raked over it, remembering the softness of her skin. He thought about the way he colored those ass cheeks pink, preferably with his hand as he smooths them with his palm to ease the sting.

M (10:00 PM): You like to show off, don’t you?

N (10:01 PM): Yes, but only for you. I hope I’m not distracting you too much from the meeting.

Everyone was currently in tuned to Hideyoshi discussing what sort of upgrades they could utilize to attract the customers. Masamune had taken the liberty to start dozing off, slouching back enough for Ieyasu to shadow him. Something about expanding the motherboard and increasing the memory capacity. It all sounded technical gibberish to him, but the price on those materials he mentioned were already popping into his mind. He tapped Mitsunari on the shoulder, telling him the numbers as the younger man started a spreadsheet.

It felt like forever until the next shake of his phone.

The camera looked like it was perched on the counter’s edge. His lover was on her knees, bra discarded off somewhere as her hands cupped her breasts together, noting the way her nipples were perking up. It must have taken her quite some time to capture the angle just right, making it as if he was standing in front of her.

N (10:12 PM): Waiting for you under your desk like this.

He fidgeted slightly in his seat as his mind raced with imagination; the feel of auburn hair in his fingers, the warmth of her supple breasts wrapped around him as he tilts her head back. Emerald eyes trained on him as he pushes in her mouth, watching as she obediently takes his length. Mitsuhide wouldn’t need to say anything. One look from him would be enough, sucking him as his head slipped past those luscious lips.

The next one came after three minutes. He knew because he kept track of the timestamps in an attempt to tide him over until the end of this meeting. A shot showing Natsuki’s lower body, knees apart, hips tilted just right for the camera. Fingers pushed the strip of fabric to the side, baring herself to him as she held an egg vibrator on her clit. His cock throbbed against his pants as he remembers the smell of her arousal, how heady she tastes on his tongue. The way her body trembles as he eats her out like a starved man in the desert, finding waters for the first time. Slowly edging her to release as his tongue thrusts faster--

“Mitsuhide, how much would this cost?”

Not one to miss a beat, he responded gruffly. “8-15% more of the original budget.”

Nobunaga turned to look at him. “Are you certain?”

“Yes. Mitsunari should be coming up with the same result, taking into account which materials the tech department would prefer to use. Based on our trend for the past 5 years, the company earns back 25% more of the original budget. There’s a high chance we can earn that 15% back within a year after the launch.”

The wait for their genius mathematician was agonizing. Mitsuhide knew he was in his zone and would be repeating what he said moments ago. The next set of vibrations went straight to his cock, clenching his hand under his arm to refrain from opening his phone. As soon as Mitsunari confirms his calculations, the meeting will be over.

“That’s an 8-15% additional cost on our side. If we use the following..”

Mitsuhide gracefully stood up, ignoring Masamune’s knowing look. He knew the other man noticed him checking his phone often, and god knows what sort of thought he had based on that observation. He wasn’t staying to give him any ideas.

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight.” Nobunaga’s voice filled the room as he reached the door. “We convene on Monday.”

He paced himself as he returned to his office, excusing himself on how he needed to fix up some things before leaving. The rest of the board members didn’t bother over it as they also returned to their respective offices, eager to get some good rest.

With the door closed behind him, Mitsuhide checked his phone, seeing a text message.

N (10:21 PM): This is what you’re missing on.

It was a video.

Natsuki was now on her knees, a certain kind of toy suctioned to the tiles. He watched as she shifted around, easing herself down on the dildo, the speaker recording her wanton moans. Mitsuhide let out a low groan, thinking about how her walls would squeeze around his cock. How she would scream for him as he stretched her, filling her up in a single hard thrust. She kept the vibrator on her clit, her fingers working the toy as her hips started to rock back and forth. Her voice echoed in the empty bathroom, each sound sending a pulse to his hard cock. The way his name fell from her mouth was like music to his ears.

Even virtually, he could pick up on the telltale signs of her orgasm. What caught his attention was how short of a line there was left on the progress bar. Oh, she was so close, he could almost hear the exact moment--

Until the video stopped.

“Natsuki, you little tease.. ” he mumbled under his breath. Mitsuhide smirked to himself, locking the door and moving towards a spot with good lighting. Oh, he was definitely going to pay her back. And this was just the start.

Meanwhile, Natsuki leaned forward on the counter for support. She almost forgot to stop the video in time, too caught up in the pleasure of her toys. It wouldn’t be much of a tease if she recorded the whole thing, thought she would’ve loved to see the look on his face when it stopped.

After a quick change of clothes--she decided to keep wearing the lingerie underneath her cotton shirt and shorts--she plopped back down on the sofa after storing the cleaned toys back in the drawer. Her phone pinged twice, both notifications were from Mitsuhide.

Natsuki clicked on the audio file, letting it run in the background as the image loaded. She felt her jaw drop, her cheeks flushing red with heat. It only showed his pants and belt, both undone and pushed down enough to give her a good look at his hard cock. Her cunt clenched at the sight.

"No matter how hard you play with your toys, they'll never be enough, will they?” The lust in his voice reverberated through her body as he spoke. “Not like how I can stretch you, how deep I can push to reach that sweet spot of yours, how full you feel as I thrust all of my length in you.”

A soft whimper escaped her lips. Even without his physical presence, he certainly knew what buttons to push and how to push them to rile her up. She heard him chuckle, and the brief roar of a car engine could be heard in the background.

“Only my cock can satisfy you.”

The audio ended. Natsuki clenched her thighs together. It was all too much and she wanted him home now. Screw what his boss and colleagues would think.

She dialed his phone, getting up to pace around the room as his voicemail played. She hung it up and dialed again. This time, it only took three rings before he picked up.

“Mitsuhide, where are--”

“Natsuki.” he cut through her voice. Without much thought, she glanced behind her by the doorway. A familiar sight of white hair made her stand up.

He didn’t wait for her to say anything. Mitsuhide shut the door, dropping his coat on the floor. In quick strides he had crossed the room, rounding the sofa to stand in front of her. As soon as his feet stopped, he pulled Natsuki into a fierce kiss, crashing their lips together. She automatically responded to him with just as much fire. The intensity of his kiss made her dizzy with a new found heat, his arm tight around her waist. She gasped into his mouth as his erection pressed against her thigh; he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in her mouth, deepening the kiss.

They pulled away briefly, chests heaving to regain their breaths.

“This game is over, little mouse.” His voice was taut. “It’s time for me to pay you back.”

[bald-tales]

Fantasies become Reality -Pt 3 scenario 2

Fantasies become Reality - by Titan (pt.3) This is the second scenerio continuation where we see what would happen if Ben had escaped Alex kidnapping plan, though his knight in shining armor, Rick from Rick’s Cutz, may be more like Alex than first appeared. Part 3 - Scenario two: When I returned home, grateful to have escaped Alex thanks to Rick the barber, I poured myself a bourbon looking briefly in the hallway mirror. I was somewhat disappointed it hadn’t been cut or trimmed by Rick, it was too long and thick and I was sort of hoping he would give me a much shorter style, or even shaved clean for that matter. Yes, the barber managed to warn me about Alex and his kidnap plans for me, but I still looked the same hairstyle wise and that’s all I could focus on besides my thick stubble. As I looked at myself I pulled my fringe back exposing my self- inflicted, uneven hairline. As I stared in the mirror I could hear a voice in my head, it was the husky barber, Rick. “We have another day planned when Alex will be away, call me at my shop, I’ll be waiting with clippers ready.” It felt so clear but why? And why would I even consider going back with all the inherent dangers? What I was unaware of was that my beer had been spiked and the drug used was able to break anyone’s will very quickly but didn’t stay long in your system. As the drink had reached its effectiveness, I was unaware of Ricks added talents for hypnosis. When he’d said in the shop,“ I see your are having a problem with getting out of my chair, don’t worry, we have time to go on with your haircut at another date.” I was unaware of his mind manipulation. The beer had taken affect and I was already floating a little unable to move for a moment. Rick started to massage the back of my neck, I could feel myself becoming very tired. I heard his deep voice but it seemed melodic and soft. My eyelids grew heavy and my body so much lighter. “As you relax knowing you are in safe hands with me all you can think of is becomming a sexy, bald man, just like Rick. A smooth, pink crown and a ring of healthy hair with a big bushy beard. You can visualize it, see it happening and you feel good. Relaxed and breathing normally you are so happy and excited. You need to feel that baldness and the sooner the better.” My dick was growing hard as I heard the message. “You trust me and feel turned on by me and what I can do to you; I will turn you into a virile man and it’s all you can think of as you see yourself in the mirror. Bald and bearded that is the new you. Every time you look in the mirror it’s all you can focus on; making your biggest desire come true.” Then Rick repeated some phrases over and over before bringing me out of my drug induced state.  “Rick can give you a permanent smooth crown and a beautiful horseshoe of hair joining up with a real mans beard. You can trust Rick to make you sexy Ben.” Over and over he said this before, unaware I had been under I’m sitting in his chair feeling very relaxed and not so nervous. I was very lethargic at first finding it hard to leave the chair. The drug would take a little while to wear off. “Well you’d better be on your way Ben, no telling when Alex arrives.” “Oh! Yes, ah thanks……” I said wanting to escape Alex. And now safely in my apartment, I gazed deeply at myself in the hall mirror where I could almost visualize my head with a smooth crown under my hand. As I moved my hand down to my chin the whiskers felt rough at first, then I imagined a dense, soft beard growing bigger and bigger. At the same time my cock was growing. Putting my drink down I went to lower my jeans, imagining my new self in the mirror, totally turned on to becoming bald and bearded, I started to stroke slowly on my cock. It didn’t take long to return to Ricks shop. I finally phoned his shop feeling compelled to after a few more days of seeing myself in the mirror and hearing that inner voice convinced me I had to go back and have him make me into that man I could now see.  “Hello Ben! Nice to see you haven’t shaved the beard, it’s coming along nicely.” The barber seemed friendlier and more interesting than I had first thought on meeting him those few days ago. I marveled at his shiny tanned scalp. “Ah!….well I just can’t seem to shave it off. Every time I try something stops me.” I said nervously. “Good though someone needs a haircut too, that hair is looking way too preppy.” And turning away he went out towards the back, “and someone needs a drink to loosen up.” “Oh ah…no I’m fine.” I tried to sound convincing. “No you’re not, and don’t worry, Alex is away at the moment, in Cairns I believe.” Relaxing a little now at the news he was a few thousand kilometers away in Northern Queensland, I still knew this barber meant business. The thing was I wanted it and hoped he would take my hair permanently today. After he caped me up and the beer had started to work, it was of course spiked again, he went to close the shop. “So ready to have your new hairstyle?” Rick started to rub my hair on top. “I…I think…..just a sh…shorter…” Rick didn’t let me finish. “Just look at yourself in the mirror, that’s it - keep looking. Bald and bearded is the new you. Every time you look in the mirror it’s all you can focus on, making your biggest desire come true.” As I stared at myself I could see the new me. Fuck, I wanted this more than anything and my cock was proving it.  “So ready for your haircut Benny?” Rick said as he grabbed some oversized clippers from a hook on the side of the counter. “Yeah.” I murmured as I rubbed my crotch under the cape. “So how short do you want me to go?” Switching the clippers on the noise filling the room. “Smooth like you….” “Male pattern bald like me?” “Yes….smooth and shiny on top….just like you Rick.” “Your wish is my command.” And without wasting any more time he ran the clippers down the center of my head leaving light stubble behind. Despite my drugged state my eyes widened and my mouth dropped. Finally I was being made bald and I was so excited and turned on. As row after row of hair was cleared I didn’t want the clipper action to end. Suddenly the shop was full of silence as I realized he’d stopped the clipper action. “So you still want to go shorter?” He leant down and whispered in my ear. “Y..yes…sh..shorter…” I stammered hoping to hear those clippers again. Rick turned to the counter and picked up a smaller pair of red clippers. “These should help make that hair much shorter boy!” Their high pitched sound put me on edge and I wanted to cum right there in the chair but what I didn’t know was the drug was preventing me from getting too aroused down there. Rick knew it would help not only keep him in charge of Ben’s transformation but prolong the euphoria Ben would be feeling. As the red clipper took the remaining hair away I couldn’t even see stubble, only white pale skin. Shit, he was really making me bald. He kept going over the top leaving the buzzed hair on the sides. I could now see how I would look as a young man with severe male pattern baldness. The beard seemed to show up even more now and I wondered how long it would take to grow. It’s what I wanted wasn’t it? To be bald and bearded, a virile, masculine man, the voice inside my head kept saying. Rick always loved this part where he started to design how much baldness the customer would have. The balding clipper went well below the crown, Rick deciding this boy would be even balder than him. “Yes, I’m giving you a nice sexy dip at the back Benny, you’re going to love it.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing but in my relaxed state I could barely react. As he worked lowering the side a little more he added, “We are going to grow the fringe out a bit more on the sides, it will go so much better with your new beard.” As I watched I wondered how long that beard would take to grow? As if sensing my thoughts Rick said, “Oh and don’t worry, I have a little special help for that beard to grow into a luscious, full beard.” When Rick had finished creating the area of baldness with the trimmers he turned back to the counter and took a plain tube of something then pulling on some latex gloves. “Ready for permanent smoothness Benny?” “Hmm….y..yes…..smooth and shiny…..” I almost moaned as I realized he was using some sort of hair remover. What I didn’t know was along with many of the other products in the shop, this depilatory was developed in Alex’s lab and was a very strong hair remover barely needing a second or third coat for permanent results. As he spread the cream over my bald areas he said something about leaving it on for just a little bit longer as my shadow was quiet dark. He changed gloves and got another big jar of gel-like substance. He took a big glob and started to spread it over my thick stubble. “A couple of coats of this will help you with that beard too.” He rubbed it carefully wherever the whiskers were growing. He seemed to spend a little more time on my top lip and after a while it started to tingle. When he finished up I could hardly believe the way I felt. This man was changing me into a bald and bearded man, someone I wanted to be more than anything or so I thought, I hardly noticed the big hair dryer he rolled over. “This will help you become that virile masculine man so much quicker.” he said as he switched it on. I could feel warm air on my newly denuded head, the sensation wild and exciting. I wanted to touch my scalp but I couldn’t really move my arms. After awhile the skin started to tighten as it got hotter under the dryer. He lowered it more as even my face was being blowdried. “Now why don’t you just relax and let Alex’s potions work their magic and let me take a break eh Benny?” He was rubbing my neck and shoulders again giving a relaxing massage and I felt so good. I closed my eyes hearing the barber briefly at times telling me how good I would look when I woke. I was aware of light at times than I would feel something being applied to my head, more rubbing and more heat from above than something being applied to my face. All the time I just felt lethargic and heavy. At one time I woke up to having some tube in my mouth. I couldn’t move as something was being pumped into the tube leading down my throat, it was beer. I was now lying down on some bedding, Rick having moved me onto a portable camp bed in the shop where he could keep me drugged with the copious amounts of beer he was feeding me along with a special, weight gain mixture. I heard him say while I was being fed, “Yes Benny, you’re coming along nicely. You are going to really get a taste for beer real soon.” LATER Then all of a sudden I smelt something odd under my nose. It almost made me gag but I was aware of light and my eyes tried to open.  “Wake up Benny, its time for you to see the new you.” A familiar voice said. As I tried to focus I realized I was still in Ricks barbershop. How long had I been here? “Come on sleepy head, we haven’t got long as I want to get you home before Alex comes back.” Suddenly everything came rushing back, and I was aware of Rick standing in front of me. I felt tired and as I moved my head I felt something on my chin. As I looked down I could see hair below my nose. I licked my top lip and could imeadiately feel thick whiskers. “Yes, that mustache is already looking good, nice and big; ready to see the new you Benny?” Rick said jovially while turning the barber chair around to face the mirror. “Ta da!” He sang. “What do you think?” “Wh….what….how did you…..?” I just stared at myself in the mirror. It was a very different me, I barely recognized myself. How long had I been here?  The strong shop lights reflected off my shiny, smooth scalp that no longer looked white. The stubble that had been left around the sides was now a very thick, manicured horseshoe of hair, darker and matching the color of the beard that flourished on my face. It had the same careful manicuring by the barber. I took my hand and touched my head drawing it down to the perfectly trimmed hair beneath. I loved the feel, it was so much better than I thought, no shadow or hair showing on top. The balding looked very natural as the edges had been carefully blended with a epilator. That must have been the pulling I felt at times. I now looked as though I’d been bald for many years. “What about the beard?” Rick asked marveling at my changes himself. I began to run my hand over the lush beard that was now full and surprisingly soft. The mustache was a little thicker hiding my top lip and it curled a little at each end. “How…could you…do all this so qu…quickly?” I asked mesmerized as I took in all the changes. “You’ve been here for three days and I thought we should do everything you needed to have done straight away before you changed your mind.” Rick replied. “Th…three days?” I was shocked but something told me not to make a big deal out of it, Rick was just trying to help me become the bald and bearded man I was craving to be. “I like the added weight too, it suites you!“  My eyes looked down to my lap where a small ball belly stretched my t-shirt exposing my stomach a little. Then I remembered the tube going down my throat. “So how about a beer to celebrate?” Rick asked noticing where I was looking. “Fuck yeah!” I said wondering where that had come from all of a sudden. “You sure can put them away and their sure helping you grow that belly you wanted.” I was confused but what Rick was saying seemed to be right wasn’t it? I was too thin to be a bald and bearded virile, masculine man. I wasn’t aware that the phrase ‘so how about a beer to celebrate’ was the trigger phrase for my new personality to kick in. Rick had been working on re-wiring me while in his shop. He was more than pleased as he noticed the change in me. Rick had worked hard to achieve the new man before him. He wasn’t going to go this far but once he started he couldn’t stop. A little of his Alex inspired side took over. He’d used Alex’s potions on the beard and horseshoe multiple times, surprised at how well they worked quickly growing the hair. He’d tanned the skin and ensured no stray hairs would be appearing in the future. He’d also arranged for Benny to tender his resignation at his workplace; well he couldn’t return with the extreme changes. None of this could happen while on a few weeks leave. No, Benny was going to be doing more manual work from now on as Rick built him up and out. And that beard needed some more work, but first he’d have to get Benny home and start organizing his new life. He had to make sure Alex never found out what he’d done. As they both left the barbershop in the growing darkness of early evening they were unaware of being watched.