The last one for the party-
The last one for the party-
the loml ;_____;
A F T E R H O U R S , A F T E R M O O N S H I N E — HEADCANON III ; SELF-PARA
Atop of night-time bustling, the sound of his motorcycle’s engine was pinned up against the background noise of the town. The loudness of Olympus disappeared behind Jacques as did the buildings and the cars, until it was just him in solitude, cascading through the cooled wind into outskirts of the nature preserve. He’d left Maggie on the sidewalk with a parting kiss, an assurance that their newly budding relationship would still continue to blossom, even despite this setback. Though he had a jumble of feelings stewing inside him, the oak-saturated wind did him some good. His thoughts felt clearer and more defined around the edges by the time he made it home, even if he still hadn’t ironed through the emotions attached to them.
His bike rumbled to a stop before the garage doors, and the key fob in his hand brought them up like magic. Helmet off and motorcycle parked, Jacques was just sending a quick text to his new girlfriend to reassure her that he’d made it home in one piece, when he heard a shuffle from outside of the garage door. Eyebrows tugged inward, and curiously, he leaned his body through the opening, to peek outside at his front porch. Once Jacques realized what had made the noise, a heavy sigh escaped him, and he shot a final quick text to Maggie. All reserves of patience he had seemed to be getting tested tonight.
Long strides took him out to the porch, where blonde hair was being fished out from underneath a fall shoulder strap and short limbs were haphazardly trying to carry themselves to his front door.
“Vanessa!” he called out, and a moment later she seemed to realize her name, and his employee turned drunkenly in his direction. Hazel green orbs stared back at him, doe-like, caught in headlights. Jacques shrugged his shoulders, open palms—an accusatory gesture that asked ‘what the hell are you doing?’
She inhaled the night deeply, and then her shock faltered into something giddy. “Hey!” she exclaimed, trying to walk herself over to him, but much like her gaze, her limbs carried her like a newborn fawn—gracelessly and unforgiving. Jacques recognized the unsteadiness, and could smell the alcohol off her breath as he abandoned his cellphone to help Vanessa before she tripped and hurt herself. As he met her, she fell into him, her blonde hair a mane that bounced around her shoulders and struck him in the face. The woman giggled, apparently high off of her own intoxication, and used his forearms as an anchor to prop herself back up on her feet.
All irritation Jacques had had for her had now washed away and been replaced with concern. He couldn’t recall ever witnessing Vanessa so drunk. Normally during after work meetups, she’d have a few drinks, just like everyone else, chat about anything, and then they’d all disperse back home. But tonight, she found herself at Jacques’ home, and he wasn’t even sure how or why.
“Ja-Jacques,” she tried, as he supported her form heavily on the walk through the garage door and into the house. “Jacques—” A demand for attention, as he’d propped her up against the frame of his car to close the garage door.
“Vanessa,” he acknowledged, and she beamed, trying to make her way back over to him, but again just fell right into him, and he had to catch her before she took his bike down too. “Vanessa,” he sighed, exasperatedly. “What are you doing here?”
The blonde looked up at him, giggling at first, but then she seemed to realize that he wasn’t laughing with her, or even smiling, and her expression fell. “Oh, I...” she chewed on her pillowy reddened lip, pulling away unsteadily from him to hug herself. “I just came to apologize.” Her answer was quiet and small. Jacques felt a wave of empathy crash into him.
With a kinder, more tolerant sigh, the man urged her to let him help her, and brought her into the house, where he fixed a glass of water and a meal for her. She swayed in her seat at the island, chin propped up with one hand as she watched Jacques cook for her. “I just, got really drunk, after you and... Megan, or whatever, left,” Vanessa slurred. “They had moonshine there. You believe that? Like, not like shitty backwoods moonshine. Some actual, properly distilled stuff. Legal stuff.” He could feel her gaze on his back.
“Drink your water,” he instructed, trying to keep the conversation dry and focused on just helping sober her up. Bread sprung up from the toaster with a ding, and he turned the burner off, to grab a plate and dump the scrambled eggs onto it.
Behind him, he heard gulps, and then—”You know how hot it is when you... demand things like that?” A small carefree laugh, voice sultry. “You’re probably gonna fire me anyway—I think it’s so fucking hot. And when you tell me to get you things at work, I just want you to—”
“Stop.” He cut her off, knowing that whatever she said next was going to bend his arm backwards and he’d have no choice but to fire her. The plate of food clattered to the island surface before her and she wiped her mouth of droplets with the back of her hand. The two shared a look, her gazing up at him, and him gazing down at her, palms planted on the island. Her wide-eyed gaze held something more than just fear, he could tell. “Eat your food.” He saw her chest heave a bit harder with her breathing, both straps on her dress hanging off her shoulders and she bit down heavily on her lower lip again, gaze clinging to his. And then she gave a small nod. Quietly, she brought a scoop of food to her mouth, and they stared at each other as she ate. He shot another quick text to Maggie, trying to keep her updated.
Everything in him was trying to keep his wits about him. He clearly couldn’t entertain this, for so many reasons. But he also was now stuck in a situation he had to navigate. He didn’t know how she’d even gotten here, let alone whether he’d be able to get her sober enough to make it home. He couldn’t even look at her without her saying something to add to the long list of things they’d have to go over with HR, and he felt like he had to tip-toe around what he responded with, because his own job could be in jeopardy with anything that resembled a quid pro quo. There was already an existing power dynamic between the two that brought even a compliment into dangerous territory, but Vanessa had crossed that threshold long before. Now, he was desperately trying to reign her back into a place where he could still keep her employed and not have to make her lose her livelihood over some... workplace crush.
She finished the food in silence, and Jacques took the plate, dropped it in the sink and filled up her glass again. When he turned back to Vanessa, she was chewing on her lip, and she looked down at the glass as he passed it to her. “You’re really... sweet, you know?” she commented sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “To take care of me.” Jacques just responded with a curt nod. “I... know I’ve been annoying you, all night.” He was stoic, non-responsive. ‘I really am sorry. I know that all was really rude of me, I just couldn’t help it. I just... I don’t understand why... I mean, I don’t understand why I’m not... good enough for you.”
Jacques stayed silent, still, and she continued her tirade to fill the silence. He hadn’t even been aware she wanted to be anything more than a colleague to him until tonight. “I mean, we’ve known each other for years... and, I mean. Look at you. Do you look in the mirror, Mr. Mathieu? You’re like... effortlessly sexy. And you’re so nice to everyone, and I’ve never even seen you get angry.” She still had a bit of a slur to her voice, still being overly honest. But after that her tone fell, and her words were mumbled. “Except for tonight. At me.” With no answer, she sighed, frustrated and almost on the verge of tears. “So, what is it then? Am I ugly? Is that it? Too... too... uneducated? Boring?” Vanessa was pleading for an answer with her eyes, and Jacques felt the tension rising in the kitchen.
He couldn’t watch anyone in distress when he had the power to help, so he finally spoke up. “No,” he sighed. “No, it’s not that. Not any of that. You’re... a very... worthy person, Vanessa.” He couldn’t offer much more reassurance without being unprofessional, even if professionality seemed to have flown out the door hours ago. He walked over to take her by the elbow, a murmur of ‘come on’, and led the way into the living room.
She plopped down on the couch, kicking her heels off. “What is it then? Because... that girl, I mean, come on. Seriously? She... streams on Twitch? She takes pictures of herself for ad promos on Instagram? Like...” she scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re so much... better than that.” A moment of silence passed, as Jacques fished in a closet for an extra blanket. “You deserve someone better than that. Why would someone like you even want to be with someone like that?”
He was feeling increasingly annoyed as Vanessa badmouthed Maggie behind him, but swallowed his pride so not to say anything that would implicate or insult her. The only goal in mind was to get her sober and home, and sleeping the moonshine off was probably the best way. But as the man turned back towards the living room, blanket in hand, he got ambushed.
Vanessa had approached silently, and placed her palms flat against his chest, leaning up on the tips of her toes to find his eyes. He tensed up, dropping the blanket to catch her by the wrists. He started to say something, an objection, but before he could get it out she was leaning up to whisper something against his lips. “Why would you want to be with someone like that, when you could be with someone like me?”
Jacques’ breathing quickened, some mix of primitive desire and rationale and morals fogging up his head. His grip on her wrists was tight, but she kept her palms on his chest, and began to snake them upward. Grip dropped down to her hips, where he started to push her away, but Vanessa wound her arms up around his neck, fingers sifting in through the curls on the back of his head. “I know you want this,” she whispered, lips but centimeters from his, her eyes hooded low and seductive. He felt frozen. Said nothing. Didn’t move. “I can feel it,” she murmured, and he felt her bare thigh rub up his and hook loosely around his own waist. And then she closed the distance between the two of them. Her lips pressed into his, and he mumbled an exclaim, tried to push her back by the hips, but she just dragged him back with her.
His body was starting to betray him, and something instinctual within him wanted to give her what she was asking for. For a small moment, he weakened. He faltered and kissed her back, pulled her close with her legs snaked around his waist. For a small moment, his hands gripped up her dress around her hips. For a small moment, tongues melded rhythmically, forcefully, as a spur of passion rode through the two. And then Jacques came crashing back into reality, at the small moan that escaped her, and suddenly yanked her away from him, eyes wide, breath heavy. “No!” he demanded. “No, stop! We can’t!” He exhaled forcefully, pulling fully away and leaving her sitting on his coffee table. “We can’t do this! Just—stop! Please, Vanessa, stop!”
She stared up at him, reddened lips plumped and ajar from their kiss. Then her eyes glossed over, she picked the straps up onto her shoulders again, and moved to haul her shoes back on. She stood up quickly, sniffling, and stormed out of his house, leaving Jacques to stare dumbly. Then he started after, following her out onto the front porch where he called, “ Wait! Vanessa!”
“I’m doing what you said!” she called back, nasally with tears. “I’m stopping!” She was stomping away, but her heels couldn’t hold her properly in the muddy terrain.
“Vanessa!” he urged, finally catching up to her and pulling her to face him by the forearm. “Let me call you an uber or something! It’s not safe for you to walk home.”
“See, there you go!” she spat back, eyes red and cheeks stained with small rivers of mascara. “Caring again! Just make up your mind! Either you give a shit about me, or you don’t!”
He inhaled deeply, confused, and dragged both of his hands through his hair. “I’m your boss, Vanessa! I’m your boss! I do care about you, I care about you the same as any of my other employees!”
“Yeah?” she rounded on him, wiping at her cheeks. “Do you do that with all of your other employees?”
His own eyes widened, the magnitude of his mistake dawning on him. They stared at each other, breathing heavily for a few moments, until he finally spoke, tone seething. “You’re not fired. I really fucking should. Monday morning, we’re having a meeting with an HRBP, and you’re gonna explain how you just fucking assaulted me.”
She stared challengingly back at him through her tears, scoffing. “You kissed me back.”
And then she turned back around, and disappeared off the dirt path and back onto the road.
Another little piece for a pride month!~
I'm late, but happy pride month!
hold me in ur arms n i'll close my eyes n scramble into ur pocket
Designs up for $3 each <3
Man iced tea moonshine fucks
I’m so glad I got my husband addicted to NADPODD too because now he’s sending me things like this 😂
do i really love him this much.......
Okay, so. I may have decided to resurrect an old WIP by splicing it with a new one. Stay tuned
Moonshine is fat and proud and that's that 😤
I'm about halfway though the hellfire arc but I'm fucking loving the returning enemies and also we all need to say a big thank u to Emily for some especially banging background music for this arc.
Okay I binged the gladehome arc so here is a checklist.
-I love Lucanus. I love his stupid worm. I love how excited he was to have a daughter and the bond he has w Moonshine.
-Mavrus was a great guest PC but I wish he got to do more cool sorcerer shit.
-The Akarot reveal in the final tournament fight was very good and made me very nervous about that fight.
-Loved Moonshine kicking the king's ass and also all the meta gaming Emily does to use her characters to their fullest extent.