#2. I have that exact wrapping paper

[maskedbyghost]

Stalker - part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/maskedbyghost/761077146667139072/stalker <- part 1

NSFW, MDNI

(simon is a bit possessive in this part too, a lot of you're mine exclamations lol, idk if I like this honestly)

"What are you doing here?" You asked, breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t seen him in months, not since the divorce papers were signed, and yet here he is, standing right at your doorstep. The man you once loved, the man you thought you’d never see again.

"Simon?" You managed to whisper, but when you saw a bouquet in his hands, from the same flower shop your stalker frequently visited, it all came to you. Simon was your stalker. Or something like that. You didn't know what to call him anymore.

He took a step closer, but you instinctively backed away, your hands shaking.

“You—” Your voice faltered, and you struggled to find the words. “You’ve been watching me?���

He stepped into the house—the house you once shared, now heavy with memories. "Please, love, let me explain." He closed the door gently behind him, leaning back against it with flowers still in his hands.

You stood there, arms wrapped around yourself, your body stiff with tension. His presence felt suffocating, filling the small space between you, just like the memories of all the times you had waited for him to walk through that same door. But not like this. Never like this.

“Explain?” You scoffed, unable to hide the bitterness in your voice. “How can you explain this, Simon? How do you explain any of this?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off before he could say a word. “You ruined our marriage, Simon! You left me here, alone in this house. You didn’t fight for us! You didn’t fight for me.” Your voice cracked, but you forced yourself to stay steady.

Tears threatened to spill, but you blinked them away, refusing to show weakness now. “And now, after you’ve already broken everything, you come back as my stalker?” You could barely breathe through the rage, your head spinning with disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?”

Simon stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, before he slowly set the flowers down on the table beside him. Then, he removed the mask from his face, revealing the features you once knew so well—the face you had caressed countless times in the past. Damn it. He was still as handsome as you remembered.

Not now, brain! Focus. His looks couldn’t save him this time, not after everything he had done. Not after all the damage he had caused.

He took a step toward you, but when you instinctively backed away, Simon froze. He let out a heavy sigh and stopped in his tracks. "Please let me explain, and then I promise I will leave you alone."

“You have five minutes,” you said, your voice firm, “and then I want you out.” You turned on your heel and walked toward the living room, Simon following closely behind.

Simon sat down across from you, his expression a mix of desperation and regret. He took a deep breath before he started talking. “I need you to understand something,” he began, his voice steady but strained. “When I left, I was on a dangerous mission, one that I couldn’t discuss with you. I was cut off from communication, and forced into secrecy. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to contact you; it was because I couldn’t.”

He paused, looking down at his hands before meeting your gaze again. “During that mission, someone discovered that I had you. They found out about us and used that information against me. They threatened me, they said that they would kill you, and I had no choice but to stay away. I thought if I kept my distance, they wouldn’t have any way to find your exact location. Instead, I sent a few people here to look after you, and eliminate any possible threat."

Your heart ached as you listened, but you remained silent, letting him continue.

Simon continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I had to deal with those men before I could even think about coming back.”

He swallowed hard, clearly pained. “When you sent the divorce papers, it felt like the final blow. I knew you deserved better—better than the life I was dragging you into. I signed the papers because I thought it was what you wanted. I thought you’d be safer without me.”

Simon’s eyes were filled with sorrow. “I should have fought harder, but I was afraid of making things worse for you. I thought you didn’t want to see me, so I stayed away, even when it was killin' me inside. I started keepin' an eye on you from a distance, trying to make sure you were okay.”

He leaned forward, his eyes pleading. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know I’ve caused you so much pain. But I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen. I’m here now because I need to fix this, to make sure you’re safe and that you know the truth.”

The emotions poured inside you—betrayal, fear, love, and a desperate need to understand how everything had spiraled so out of control.

"Why now?" You asked, voice surprisingly calm. "Why didn't you show up earlier?"

“I got tired of dealing with the guys who tried to hit on you,” Simon said, his voice tinged with frustration.

You were left even more confused than before. You knew he could be jealous, but you hadn’t realized how far his possessiveness could reach. “I went on a date, you know?” you said, trying to prove some point at the moment, like he couldn't keep all of the suitors away.

“I know,” Simon growled, his voice tight with frustration. “Your friends were sneaky about setting you up with that fucker, I’ll give them that. I had to sit there for three hours, watching you smile at him, before I could do anythin'.”

"Should I even ask?"

"No." Simple as that. "Fuck, I know my wife is fuckin' perfect, but dealin' with all of them was more exhausting than I ever imagined.” I small smile appeared on his face, and you didn't know what to say. This was all messed up.

Simon slowly approached where you sat and lowered himself to his knees. He took your hands in his, pressing his lips to each knuckle. When his gaze settled on your ring finger, it was empty of course, you had removed the ring the moment he signed the divorce papers. He lingered there, his expression full of regret.

As Simon stared at your bare ring finger, the weight of his actions seemed to hit him all at once. His shoulders slumped, and he looked up at you with eyes full of sorrow.

“Seein' you without the ring,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “it’s like a reminder of everythin' I’ve lost. I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you until now.”

Simon's grip on your hands tightened, his fingers gently tracing the veins on your wrists. “I'm beggin' you, love,” he pleaded, his eyes searching your face. “Please give me another chance. Let me prove to you that I can be the man you deserve.”

"Simon....I don't know."

"You're mine," he hissed, "You belong to me."

His grip tightened as he pulled you even closer, his body pressed against yours. "And I'm not lettin' go of what belongs to me," he growled in your ear.

Simon could see the mixture of emotions playing out on your face. His grip on your arms loosened, but his eyes remained intense, staring deeply into yours.

"I know I've hurt you," he continued when you didn't say anything, his voice a mixture of frustration and pleading. "I know I've made a mess of things. But I've never stopped loving you, not for a single moment."

“Simon, I understand that you’re trying to explain yourself, and I can see that you’re hurting, but your actions have caused a lot of pain, I don't know if I can trust you anymore." You said as the tears filled your eyes.

"I know," he said, his voice wavering. "And I don't expect you to trust me right away. I hurt you, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance."

He gently wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, his touch soft and tender. "Please, love," his own eyes welling up, "just give me a chance to prove it to you."

You sighed as Simon moved closer, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. When you didn’t pull away, he continued with gentle kisses down your neck, each kiss light. His lips traveled slowly up to your own, pausing just before they made contact. He lingered there, his breath mingling with yours, as he gazed intently into your eyes, his lips hovering near yours as if waiting for permission.

Your breath hitched as he paused, his lips hovering a hair's breadth away from yours. His eyes were filled with a mix of tenderness and raw desire. He waited for a moment, the anticipation hanging in the air. Then, finally, he closed the distance, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that was equal parts gentle and desperate.

But the kiss lasted for a moment only, he pulled back, and leaned his forehead on yours, before whispering "You are mine."

You trembled slightly as he tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling gently in that familiar way he used to do. With his lips brushing against yours, he whispered, “No matter what, you will always be my girl, fucking mine. No one can take you away from me, and I'll grovel at your feet for eternity if it means you’d forgive me.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers in your hair, his breath on your lips, and his words leaving you overwhelmed.

"Simon..." you breathed, feeling the mix of emotions swirling inside you. "It's not that simple. You hurt me. You broke my trust."

His grip tightened in your hair, pulling your head back slightly, and his lips pressed against the exposed flesh of your throat. He nipped at your skin, his breath hot on your skin.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion as he nuzzled against your neck. “I can’t undo what I’ve done or make up for the pain I caused, but I want you to know that I’m committed to doing whatever it takes to rebuild your trust. I’m willing to wait, to earn your forgiveness, and to prove that I’ve changed. Just please, don’t shut me out completely. I need a chance to make things right.”

Your heart ached at his words, the pain and the love battling within you. The familiar feeling of his body pressed against yours added another layer of confusion to your conflicting emotions.

You reached up and gently ran a hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. A shiver ran down your spine as his breath tickled your skin, a small part of you surrendering to this need for him.

The feel of your hand in his hair and your body close to his sent a shot of desire through his body. He groaned deeply, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you even closer, his body molding to yours.

His lips moved up your neck, his tongue tracing a fiery path up to your ear. "I need you," he whispered, voice thick with need. "I need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you're still mine."

"You know where the bedroom is."

Simon smiled as he got up with you in his arms, he wasted no time in carrying you to the bedroom, his strong arms holding you effortlessly. The air in the room was thick with a complex mix of emotions. On one side, there was the unresolved tension of past hurt and betrayal. On the other, there was a delicate, hopeful sense that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to reconnect and rebuild what you once had together.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Bolinus brandaris [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

and by public demand, part. 2

summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.

"Everyone ready to go back?" Gideon asked, taking a quick look at the jet to make sure all of you were there. You had an extortion case quite far from home, Miami to be exact, and you had a long flight back to Quantico, so the last thing he wanted was to forget someone.

Miami was a beautiful place that you would have liked to visit in other circumstances, that had nothing to do with crimes at all, since you had always felt a certain weakness for the warm climate, the sticky breeze, and the sound of the waves that were on the beach.

You had only had the chance to go to a mall to buy a new outfit, because yours had been completely ruined, while Morgan took advantage of the wait to buy an ice cream popsicle. It hadn't been a dream ride, but it was something at least.

“I feel like I could sleep for 90 hours straight,” you sighed, closing your eyes and falling into Spencer's side as usual. You two were the youngest, he was younger than you of course, so it was easier to connect with him than the other members of the team. You seemed to have similar interests and he was strangely comfortable with you.

“You would actually need to wake up periodically to expel fluids or you would risk bursting your bladder or even your bowels, because even though your digestive system shuts down when you sleep it only does so for a certain number of hours. Maybe you could sleep for 14 or 17 hours, which is what a baby sleeps, but 90 seems excessive to me even if you do not consume drinks or food before doing so”

"It's an expression, Reid" you laughed, but without the intention of making him feel bad for having answered you that way. Sometimes it was necessary to explain to him that you weren't being serious, as obvious as this seemed.

"You can sleep through the whole trip" he argued and although you still had your eyes closed you assumed that he had shrugged "I'll wake you up if you start snoring"

"I don't snore!" you defended yourself, playfully smacking him on the arm and hearing him laugh. Somehow watching him led you to remember a chain of events ending in the package you had carefully stowed in your bag and you almost jumped out of your seat the next second: "Wait, I just remembered something" you reported and went to the baggage area to rummage through your suitcase, taking just a few minutes to be back in your seat “I bought you this”

"Me?" he asked in disbelief. The others were on their own business enough to notice your conversation, making the moment a bit more private.

“I looked at it and just thought of you. Although I don't know if you're going to like it” you said shyly, handing him something wrapped in a paper bag with a store sticker on it. You had found the gift when you went shopping for your clean outfit and a part of you had been anxious all day to be able to give it to him to watch his reaction.

Reid looked at it curiously and handled it carefully, as if he were afraid it would fall apart in his fingers, until he managed to open it and took a piece of cloth from it.

"A scarf?"

“I saw you in one the other day and I thought you might like them. You know, you always wear your vests under your coats and your ties and you're always overdressed, but in a cute way” you laughed, while you pointed your hands at your body pretending to touch the pieces of his outfit "But it's okay if you don't want to wear it"

"No! I mean yes. I want to use it” he reassured you. Spencer held it out to look at it more carefully: it was purple, a stripe in the middle of patterned colored rhombuses intertwined with some embroidery of branches with leaves in black. "Did you know that the color purple is related to royalty because of how difficult it was to obtain the pigment before the Christian era? It is obvious that artificial dyes didn’t exist at that time, so everything they dyed the fabrics with had to be obtained from nature and that particular tone was quite difficult to obtain because it came from Bolinus brandaris, an extremely rare species of sea snail. To obtain 1 gram of this substance it is necessary to have 10,000 snails. And that gram was barely enough to dye a small piece. Its value and the difficulty in mass-producing it is due to the fact that the substance obtained had to be left to dry in the sun for a very precise time to be used later. Half a kilo of wool dyed in that color cost what would now be equivalent to around 300,000 euros,” he said, still holding the scarf as he rambled on. "It is also related to liturgical attire, it symbolizes power, wisdom, and is the perfect combination between the energy of red and the calm of blue”

“Oh yeah, I… I knew all that before I bought it, I didn't choose it just because I think purple brings out your eyes” you blatantly lied, making your friend laugh tenderly.

“What I meant to say is that I like it” he added, a little embarrassed by the smile and attention with which you had been observing him. You always did that when he wandered off, leaving him helpless and not knowing how to react.

"You said it has to do with wisdom, right?" you exclaimed and he nodded gently "Do you think there's some weird psychological reason why my brain knew that and linked it to you or was it just a coincidence?"

"Well, it's hard to explain..." he began to say, turning a little in his seat to be closer to you and begin a long explanation about the connections that our brain creates with things and people.

You were completely exhausted but you didn't have the heart to stop him from saying anything he had to say and you listened intently as much as your body would allow, until eventually you were lulled to sleep by the sound of Spencer's soft voice. When he stopped hearing your hums he realized that you had already fallen asleep and he moved your body carefully until you were completely reclining on the chair, so that when you woke up the physical pain of sleeping on the plane would be less. He, for his part, stayed in the seat next to you sheltered your rest, and at some point ended up asleep too.

The day after she came back from Miami, Spencer was already wearing the scarf you gave him. He had matched it with a brown coat, a vest in a darker shade of purple than the scarf, and a white shirt that together made him look perfect. Also, his well-brushed straight hair fell to the side and his tanned skin looked particularly clean.

You didn’t need to tell him anything because the smile you gave him when you looked him up and down was reason enough for him to be flattered and also proud to receive your approval. All day you watched him, a bit for the garment and a bit for the very pleasure of admiring him, and you noticed that he frequently checked that everything about him looked good, as if he was trying to impress you. Every time he spoke he avoided looking at you, only at you, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.

The day after that he used it too and the next day and the next, to the point where it was strange to see him go anywhere without it, as if it had become a part of him. After a week, while they waited in the boardroom, Elle finally had the courage to face the situation and ask Spencer why the particular choice for something for everyday use.

"It's that his girlfriend gave it to him" answered Morgan, before the brunette could say anything.

"What? No! Y/N is not my girlfriend” he said, completely embarrassed and making sure with his eyes that you weren't around to hear that.

"Oh, now I understand" JJ joined the conversation.

"You understand what?"

“You are always taking care that it doesn’t get dirty or stained”

"Yes, I don't like my clothes to get ruined"

"But more so if it's something his girlfriend gave him" insisted Morgan and in a fit that no one expected Spencer took a ball of paper and threw it at his face. That just got a collective laugh.

"I just like it. That's all”

"We all know you like her, Reid," added Hotch, who had kept quiet thus far and didn't even look up from the files. He flushed red to the ears as the rest of the team shared another laugh, and just seconds later you and Gideon walked through the door.

"Good morning"

"Good morning" answered the others, like school children before the arrival of a teacher. There was one seat left next to Morgan that Gideon took and that forced you into the only remaining chair between Elle and Spencer.

“Did I miss something interesting?” you murmured, leaning into him and smiling close to his face.

"No" he replied kindly, feeling your gaze drop from his eyes.

"Your scarf," you said, reaching out your hands to move it a little around his neck "It was out of place"

Everyone else, except for Gideon, shared knowing glances and stifled giggles as they watched the nervous way he thanked you. It didn't help too much that for the entire meeting you were completely distracted looking at your partner next to you, making the whole team wonder when the two of you were finally going to end up kissing.

[hoe4hotchner]

Pieces of the past | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader | WC: 1.2k  | CW: This is very angsty (and kind of triggering to me at least), reminiscing of childhood, centered around the memories you have of a dead relative, specifically your granddad, mentions of a funeral, mention of undisclosed illness. I mention the word church once.| Summary: Looking at old pictures from your childhood, which makes memories resurface, some better than other.

A/N: This is a very personal fic to me, and I wrote it weeks ago when it would've been my grandad's 80th birthday. I hope you guys will take good care of it --> Also the stories told about the grandad in these are half real and half made up for the sake of the story ❤️

You set the heavy grocery bag on the kitchen table with a sigh, the crinkling of paper breaking the stillness of the apartment. You’d just returned from your mom's house, and what was supposed to be a quick stop had quickly turned into a nostalgic trip down memory lane. The bag was filled with old photographs, ones she had kept in the basement - forgotten over time, ones you hadn’t seen in years. Mostly, they were from your childhood, while others were from before you were born - holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, and weddings - but the ones that hit the hardest were the ones of your grandad.

He had passed when you were still young, but the memories you had of him were vivid, and cherished, and every now and then, those memories resurfaced like the pictures you now held in your hands.

You started spreading them across the dinner table, sorting through the faded snapshots, organizing them by event. There was one of you, maybe 3 years old, sitting in a four-wheeled wagon, your grandad pulling you around the garden, both of your faces were lit with massive smiles - You could tell it was winter from your massive red puffer jacket, it looked way too big for a toddler, but it looked warm. Another one had him holding your hand while walking through the park, his old, weathered jacket wrapped tightly around him, you could tell he was already sick there, knowing that not long after that trip, he had passed.

The further you sorted, the heavier the ache in your chest grew. It wasn’t sadness, really - it was more of an emptiness, a longing for those quiet, comfortable moments you could never get back, a longing, wondering how he would've reacted to your life choices, how different life might have looked if he had still been around.

You picked up a photograph that felt heavier than the rest, your breath hitching as you recognized the scene captured within the frame. It was a solemn day, the sky gray as friends and family gathered to pay their respects. Your grandad’s casket, draped in a simple white and wooden veneer, stood surrounded by flowers, red roses to be exact - they were always his favorite - each bloom a testament to the love he had shared throughout his life. In the image, you could see yourself, a small figure in a white dress - it was the same one you would wear when your grandmother remarried 2 years later - holding tightly to your mother’s hand, her fingers trembling in yours. Tears glistened in your eyes as you remembered the heaviness in your heart that day, you were sure you hadn't really understood what was going on around you. The ache of loss was suffocating, knowing he had touched so many lives. You blinked hard, wishing to erase that moment from your mind, but it lingered like a ghost, haunting the edges of your memories.

By the time Hotch returned home, you were sitting in the middle of a sea of photographs, some placed in neat piles, others scattered haphazardly, the memories tangled with your emotions. You didn’t hear the door open or the sound of his briefcase hitting the floor. It wasn’t until you felt his presence that you realized he was home.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, and when you looked up at him, he already knew. He didn’t need to ask.

“Hey,” you murmured back, trying to summon a small smile but failing. Your eyes dropped back to the picture in your hand, a shot of your grandad, dressed in his Sunday best at his 25th wedding anniversary with your grandmother, his kind eyes twinkling with the same warmth you always remembered.

Hotch’s gaze followed yours to the table, his brow furrowing slightly as he took in the scene. He walked over without a word and sat beside you, his presence solid and comforting, even in the silence.

You leaned into him a little, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “I went to mom’s today, and she gave me all of these,” you explained quietly, gesturing toward the photographs. “I wasn’t expecting to… I don’t know, feel this way.”

Hotch slipped an arm around you, grounding you without interrupting your thoughts.

Your thumb brushed the edge of the photo in your hand, the texture familiar, like you had held it a hundred times before. “That’s me and my grandad,” you said softly. “I miss him. He always knew how to make things feel better, you know?”

Hotch nodded, his eyes on the photograph now, though he stayed silent, giving you space to share whatever you needed.

“I remember when this picture was taken. It was a summer afternoon. We’d just come back from the park, and I had scraped my knee running after the dog.” You smiled faintly, the memory so vivid it was almost like stepping back in time. “I was crying so much, and he just scooped me up like it was nothing, sat me on his knee, and blew all the pain away he said. It worked, of course.”

Hotch's thumb traced soft circles on your arm, a quiet comfort that encouraged you to keep going.

You picked up another photo, this one of your grandad during the last Christmas you got to spend with him. “This was the last Christmas, I never knew he was as sick as he was,” you murmured, your voice catching slightly. “He loved hosting everyone, their house was always open, whether it be people from church or his patients at work, always pretending like it wasn’t a big deal, he was so proud of it.”

The lump in your throat grew, but you didn’t stop. You wanted to keep talking, wanted to share these pieces of yourself and your grandad with Hotch.

“He taught me so much, not just the little things, but how to… how to love and care for people. I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about him today. He would’ve liked you a lot, Aaron,” you added, turning your head slightly to glance at him.

Hotch’s eyes softened, his hand resting on your back as he gave you a gentle squeeze. “I would’ve liked to have met him,” he said quietly, his voice was low and soothing.

You nodded, feeling the familiar weight of longing settling in your chest again. But being here, with Hotch beside you, made it a little easier to bear. His quiet understanding, the way he didn’t try to fill the silence with meaningless words to coax you into being happy - it was exactly what you needed.

For the next hour, you kept sorting through the photos, talking when the memories felt too strong to hold back, and simply resting when the words wouldn’t come. Hotch stayed right there with you, listening, holding you, and occasionally picking up a picture to ask about it, his voice always gentle, never rushing or forcing information out of you.

It wasn’t until the last photograph was placed on the table that you finally exhaled, feeling a little lighter, even though the ache was still there. You leaned into Hotch’s warmth, your head on his shoulder again.

“Thank you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

Hotch pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Always.”

And in that quiet moment, you realized that while you couldn’t go back to those days with your grandad, the love and memories he left behind would always be a part of you - and now, they were something you could share with the person sitting beside you.

[riseoftheangstywriter]

How do u think the turtles would react if s/o got the turtles their favorite franchise(Jupiter Jim or Lou jitsu) merch after they attempted to buy it(but they were broke)?

Love this idea! I plan on writing a little scenario for each of the rise turts but part 1 will just be Mikey and Donnie(part 2 coming soon), enjoy!!

Mikey

You're guided through the lair by the heavenly aroma that could only be the result of Mikeys' incredible baking. It was truly a delight to see whatever he was whipping up when you managed to stop by at just the right time.

You practically float into the kitchen, the box turtle in the middle of pulling a tray out of the oven.

"Something sweet?" You hum, watching as his surprise melts into joy at the sight of you, smile matching his grin. You've mistaken it for the sun more than once.

"More like someone sweet." He removes his oven mitts and meets you halfway in a tight hug. "I made brownies y/n!" The syllables of your name slip fondly from his tongue, his enthusiasm enveloping you with warmth.

His head fits right in the crook of your neck, his usual resting spot in an embrace such as this. He smells like chocolate. Feels like home.

"I have something for you." Unable to contain your secret any longer, you pull away, presenting him with a bag, orange tissue paper loosely sticking out.

His eyes light up, fingers dancing in anticipation at whatever this thing might be. "Really?!"

All you can do is nod, holding your breath as he takes it from you, tearing through the packaging with that contagious unconfined energy you adored.

You know the exact moment he sees what it is, his jaw dropping in time with your gleeful giggle. Your hand covers your face, unable to hold back the joyful sounds escaping your throat.

"Is this the limited edition Jupiter Jim cookbook? Which has all the food and beverages from the films and comics?!"

You nod, knowing he had been dying to get it whenever it had come out. Being such a niche piece of merchandise, it sold out almost immediately. Not to mention it wasn't exactly in his price range.

He was a good sport about not being able to add it to his growing collection, but seeing his crestfallen expression for even a second was all it took for you to decide you would stop at nothing to get it for him.

Now that you've gotten it, Mikey could-

"Woah!" Your feet leave the ground as you are lifted in the air, being twirled around multiple times. A reminder of his incredible strength despite his size.

"Ohmigosh y/n! This is incredible! You're incredible!" One hand cradles your face, his other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up. "I love it!" He repeats multiple times, kissing your cheeks over and over. "I love you!"

"I-I love you too!" You manage to stutter out between the onslaught of pecks, dizzy and lovesick.

Planted back to reality, Mikey shakes your shoulders. "Do you have plans tomorrow? If not, I'm making a three course- no, a five course meal! I have to go shopping, I need to call April!"

"You have all the time in the world." You reply reassuringly, still endeared by his eagerness.

"I know, I know. It's just I've been wanting this for like forever!" He calms, now seeming to finally process what you've done. "...You remembered?"

How could you not? You're already far into that stage of wanting to know every little thing about him, and what you have learned was already committed to memory forever. You knew he was no mind reader; you just wanted to express yourself to him like he did to you. It mattered, really. Deeply.

"Of course." Simple and sweet words were enough for him to understand. He leans into you, your hand pressed against his plastron, tracing the sticker on its' surface.

"You're the best." He swears to you, like a promise he plans to never break.

What ensues next is a playful back and forth, ending in more laughter. Sunshine finds its' way in, even in the underground tunnels of New York.

He leaves you with the brownies, rounding up his family with an extra spring in his step. You take a bite of a corner piece; relishing in its sweetness, it being cooked to perfection as usual. Although it was nothing compared to Mikey's affection.

Not even close.

Donnie

Like clockwork, you arrive to Donnie's lab. A weekly cycle, but the farthest thing from a chore. A highlight seems like a more fitting description.

The doors open for you with a hiss, inviting to you while perhaps ominous to a stranger. His space, and now, in a way, yours too by association.

He's working. Focused. Diligent as ever. He's rarely been irked by your interruptions when they do occur, but out of respect you keep your distance. Besides, you didn't mind observing from afar. Or admiring.

He greets you, like always. The creaking of a nearby chair is indication of your "sitting down and vegging out on your phone after a long day time", so he doesn't shift his attention to you just yet. Wanting to complete his current task first.

You aren't on your phone, however. Instead, you wait patiently. Wanting to get his reaction whenever he sees... it.

It takes around fifteen minutes before you hear a satisfied sigh and a readjust of his googles. Then a pause, an empty space where his first words to you should be.

"..y/n?" He turns in his chair, eyes narrowed and an immaculate eyebrow quirked.

"Yes?" You mirror his questioning expression, feigning ignorance. An attempt to be cute, hoping to add to your charm that got him to fall for you, somehow.

"What did you put on my desk?" A harmless, even logical question; but you have a terrible poker face and are horrible at hiding when you're excited about something.

You focus on the subject of conversation. A gray box, with more height than width. Decorating it is a purple satin ribbon.

You look between it and him. "Oh that? I don't know. Maybe you should open it and see."

For a moment you're sure he'll question it, but to your delight he obliges to your initial request. Your stomach churns; that means he trusts you. That was great, amazing even. Yet..

Going by his side, you watch as he puts the package in his lap, slowly tugging on the fabric of the ribbon, letting it loosen so he can pull it away with ease.

His hands linger over the lid, a silent ask for permission in his subtle glance upwards.

"Well?" You say, sweaty palms concealed behind your back.

A huff in response, and the lid is popped off.

It's quiet for about a minute, Donnie peering inside the box, hands still firmly on its' sides. The suspense is gnawing at you, screaming internally for any reaction at all. Please.

Then he lifts it out, holding it carefully in his skilled fingers. The holy grail itself. An Atomic Lass figurine. Not just any figurine. It's Atomic Lass in her outfit from Jupiter Jim's Pluto Vacation IV, which just so happens to be his favorite film in the franchise. Not to mention this item was so hard to find, not even the soft shell himself could get it in his possession.

Biting your tongue so hard it might bleed, you try to piece together his thoughts by a thorough study of his expression. You knew how particular he was about his well-kept merchandise collection. You polished it yourself, only pleased once it shined like the titanium bust of his head. Desperate to impress him; even now, after all this time. Dreading what would happen if you managed to fail. Had you failed already?

He sets down the figure, staring at it. Then an exhale, as he squares his shoulders, facing you.

"How much do I owe you?"

What? "What? Nothing." That was the last thing you had expected him to say. Your gesture had no price tag, but feeling the need to elaborate just to bring the point home, you add. "Zero dollars."

His eyes are cast downwards, but it's unmistakable. He's thinking. Now you see. He's calculating how much it might have cost you. How many hours you worked at your job in order to pay for it. Classic Donnie overthink. You wouldn't allow that.

With purpose, you bend down to eye level, pressing a gentle kiss on the area between his pinched brows. "It's a gift, Donnie." Fingers meet his chin as you lift his head up. "You don't owe me anything."

It seems to have pained him, how easily you assured him no favor was needed, or even wanted by you. "No. No- you cannot possibly expect me to just take this," his fingers grasp your wrist, hand almost shaking. "This is too much."

His sweetness, yet hypocrisy is extremely adorable. "It is most certainly not. There's plenty of times we've been in this exact situation, just the other way around, and you know what you said every time I tried to repay you?"

Not really asking for an answer, you continue, "You say it's fine, and that your purpose of doing things for me is never to get something in return," you trace his jaw, feeling it clench. "It's the same thing for me."

Using his own principles against him was a killing blow, seeing his conflicting emotions settle into resignation, yet the apprehension was there. "I have no doubt it was difficult for you to find such rare..." He trails off, eyeing the statue and all its' details. "It's magnificent."

His breathless praise fuels your ego, just a bit. "I'm really really glad you think so." You kiss his cheek, pulling yourself out of his loosening grip.

With a surprised gasp he brings you right back in, kissing you with a sudden ferocity that makes your head spin and skin shimmer, a bubbling warmth threatening to boil over. The position you're in is a little awkward, but with Donnie's lips on yours like this you found no reason to complain.

"Please," Almost like a plea, his eyes rake over your contented smile, breath hitching. "Let- Let me do something for you. Anything."

The constant need Donnie had to help you stoked the embers in your heart even more. Falling impossibly further for him just when you think there couldn't possibly be anything else to love, to admire.

Your nose meets his snout with a meaningful nuzzle, and you caress a wrinkle on his forehead with a thumb. "Anything? Well... a movie right now sounds nice. If I may throw out a suggestion here, what are your opinions on Jupiter Jim's Pluto Vacation IV?"

Once he realizes the direction you were taking with his proposition, he scoffs, the familiar sound furthering your fond amusement. "Is that a serious request, y/n?"

"To be honest," you cup his cheek, seeing how youthful he looks like this. Wide eyes and shining pupils. "Just this is plenty, but if you actually feel like you have to repay me, which you don't... then yes, I'm serious."

He sighs into your touch, clearly wanting to argue your "request". That push and pull between you both was always fun to indulge in; but in this case, he accepts. "Very well, even though I do not consider that sufficient in the slightest." He could grumble all he wants, he knew you had succeeded.

Movie night commences shortly after, and you listen as he brainstorms how exactly he'll display his figurine, insistent just setting it alongside the others wasn't enough. Soaking up every word, you cuddle closer. You should surprise Donnie more often. You could get used to this.

[the-upside-down-umbrella]

Partners? Partners.

Chapter 2

Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

(Part 2/?)

Summary: Y/N Hargreeves, formerly of the Sparrow Academy, finds herself virtually alone in the reset timeline. The Umbrella’s bring her in to their chaos and she builds something new for herself while still navigating the grief of losing her family. She’s happy in the simplicity. That is, until the one Hargreeves she can’t seem to win over comes to her with an offer she might not be able to refuse.

——————

He showed up at the exact same time the next morning, taking his usual spot at the window.

“Your boyfriend is here,” her coworker, Leah, teased. “Like clockwork, that one. He must really like you.”

“He likes to piss me off, that’s what he likes,” Y/N grumbled. “And he’s not my boyfriend, Leah. I’d liken him more to a thorn in my side.”

“Whatever you say,” Leah grinned, “But I’m pretty sure that boy is in looooove with you.”

“Stop.”

She excused herself from the counter and made her way over to him, a cup of coffee and a donut in hand. She sat it down in front of him before taking the seat across from him again, folding her hands in front of her, “Good morning, Five.”

“Y/N,” he nodded, picking up the donut and taking a generous bite, “I told you I’d be back.”

“And here you are.”

“And here I am.”

She studied him for a moment, watching as he thumbed away a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. Was she really considering working with him? Could she really stand spending more than a handful of minutes in the day near him? He was infuriating.

“Are you going to dinner at Lila and Diego’s tomorrow?” She questioned him, completely avoiding what she knows he wants to hear.

“You mean our birthday dinner? I am. Are you?”

“Of course I am,” she said, “I never miss family dinner.”

She was just happy to be included. She loved any excuse to be around the other Hargreeves. The fact that they all shared a birthday and now celebrated it together as a group was something she looked forward to every year.

“Maybe we can ride together,” he suggested casually, “I know you usually take the bus, but I just got a new car. I might as well put it to use.”

“What, so you can pester me in a place I can’t escape from?” She jested, only half joking.

“You and I both know you’re not above jumping out of a moving car, so I’d say you’re pretty safe.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but she couldn’t help the small smile that played at the corners of her mouth. He was joking with her and she liked it.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, staring at each other as they waited for one of them to make the next move.

“Fine,” she relented, “I get off at four tomorrow. We can leave from here.”

“Your chariot will await.”

“It doesn’t mean I’m saying yes to the other thing, Five.”

“We’ll see,” he shrugged, “I can be pretty persuasive.”

___

The bell above the door tinkled and she knew it was him before she even looked up. She could feel his eyes on her but this time he didn’t make his way over to his usual table, but came directly to the counter. He stopped in front of her, grinning. How very un-Five like.

“It’s not even four,” she told him.

“I know, but I have something to drop off and I need a cup of coffee.”

In his hands was a messily wrapped package, adorned with a lopsided bow. He slid it across the counter towards her and she peered down at it in confusion.

“What’s this?”

“A bomb,” he said sarcastically, “What does it look like? It’s a gift. Happy Birthday.”

“I didn’t get you anything.”

He rolled his eyes at her, “As if I care about that. Just open it, will you?”

She raised an eyebrow at him but complied anyways, peeling back the paper to find a small brown box. Nestled inside was a plain, white mug with ‘world’s best barista’ scrawled across it in block script font. It was incredibly basic and probably one of the best gifts she’s ever received.

She laughed heartily, turning it in her hands. It was the most Five thing he could have given her and yet, she loved it.

“And I mean it,” he said sincerely, “you really are the world’s best barista.”

“Thank you, Five,” she gushed, truly moved by the gift in her hands, “I love it.”

“I aim to please,” his words were soft, laced with something she couldn’t quite place.

Nodding at her, he went to take his place near the window. Her heart was a fluttery mess in her chest and she chastised herself for the school girl behavior. This was Five she was thinking about. Infuriating, pragmatic, Five.

She plucked his usual donut from the case, but this time she added a special adornment.

“Do you have a lighter, Leah?” She asked her friend, who she knew smoked on the down-low during her breaks.

“Is that a candle?” Leah asked, completely ignoring her question, “A birthday donut?”

“We share a birthday,” Y/N explained, “Now, do you have a lighter or not?”

“You share a birthday?” Leah squealed, “well isn’t that some true soulmate shit!”

“Oh, Lee, you don’t even know the half of it.”

Leah reached in to her back pocket and pulled out a hot pink lighter, igniting it and lighting the candle for her, “Now go charm your lover boy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Y/N chastised her, covering the flame with her hand as she made her way over to Five.

He looked up at her, surprise flashing across his face and lighting up his eyes as she placed the donut on the table in between them, “Happy Birthday, Five.”

“Happy Birthday, Y/N,” he said quietly, his eyes locking with hers, setting her face aflame at the intensity in his gaze.

They both leaned forward at the same time and released a puff of air that extinguished the flame. He smiled warmly at her and picked up the donut, removing the candle and taking a hearty bite.

“I realized that I do have a gift for you,” she told him, “a gift in the form of an answer to your question.”

He leaned forward in anticipation, donut forgotten.

“I’ll join you at the CIA. I still think it’s ridiculous and there’s no way we’ll get away with lying, but I’m willing to try. But I’ll let you know right now that if it all goes south, I’m throwing you under the bus, sir.”

He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face, “I would expect nothing less.”

“I’ll need to give them my notice here, so I’ll need a few weeks,” she added, “I don’t want to leave them in the lurch.”

“Understood,” he said, “I’ll need that time to get the paperwork situation figured out anyways.”

“Okay then, I guess that’s settled. Just…don’t make me regret this, Five.” She warned.

“Y/N, I promise you that I’ll make sure you never regret saying yes.”

[depressedcoffeeobsess]

Sleepy Kisses

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

warnings: kisses on the cheek. given last name.

summary: remus lupin can't sleep during the night anymore due to the full moon coming around. he goes to the common room to find his fellow prefect and ends up sleeping on the girls shoulder.

song of the writing: another love — tom odell

Word count : 679 words. (Thanks to @issysh3ll)

[Pt.2]

IT WAS A LATE NIGHT of february. It was cold and windy. no one dared to go out tonight. not even the professors. by midnight the wind was gushing on the windows of dorms and common rooms. Leaving only the cackling fire to be the source of warmth.

Remus Lupin can't sleep. He opens the door out the dorm room and swiftly escapes out. He walkes down the stairs to the dim lit common room. He was about to sit on the couch when he noticed a presence on the sitting area. Curious and cautious he quietly peeps over the person. or so in other words—girl. Not just any girl it was the weird Sterling girl.

She was a fellow prefect who was sorted into the house of godric, thus her parents were smart ravenclaw's following rowena's path. She had flowing hair that was quite long/short. She had the perfect face of an angel. Almost looking like heaven in descriptive words. She was friends with Pandora and Junior.

Remus mumbled some things under his breath and started backing away when suddenly he hit the table causing the small plant to fall down. also leading for the—now awake—girl to stir and look at him.

"r-remus?" She asked softly. he could tell her voice was still—a little— groggy from just waking up. "why aren't you sleeping?" She asked a little worried.

"Oh. Um– I can't sleep. I had a bad dream." He said clearly lying to the poor girl. She stood straight still sitting down rubbing her eyes a little.

"Is there any way I could help you sleep?" She asked with a sweet voice that could captivate even a snake. Her sweet voice was soft and steady, in other words she didn't struggle to talk to him. It made his heart go boom–boom.

"Um–well , when I was young my mum used to sit with me and sing me a song. She used to rub my back." He said sitting beside her. She muttered a quick spell under her breath , levitating a blanket over the pair.

"there, I could sing you a song to get you to fall asleep." She said almost as she was talking to an ant. Remus nodded and leaned his head on the girls shoulder. But quickly took it off. He looked at the girl asking for permission. She raised her eye brows as a yes indication. Taking the sign he put his head on her shoulder, and she wrapped her arm around his covered waist.

She started softly singing a lovely song with a tune as perfect as her. Remus started slowly closing his eyes, eventually closing them fully. in this exact moment he felt safe in her presence. He felt like he was aloud to be a normal human and not like a monster he thinks he is. He snuggles his head in the small crook of her neck, putting his hand on to his lap. He remembered this song as a song his mother used to sing before he slept.

I wanna sing a song that'd be just ours

But I sang 'em all to another heart

And I wanna cry , I wanna fall in love

But all my tears have been used up

Oh another love, another love

All my tears have been used up . . .

She finishes the song there finding the softly snoring boy already asleep. She smiles and lays him down on the couch draping the soft white blanket over him. She looks at him lovingly and leans in forward. Crouching down next to him giving him a short , sweet peck on the cheek. She leans back and smiles at him.

"sweet dreams remus . . . " her voice trails of as she is still sleepy. She yawns a bit and stands up making her way to the small shelf and taking out a book. She rips a piece of blank paper and writes him a small note , intentionally finishing it of with a gracious heart. Then she places the book back and makes her exit towards the stairs to the dormitories. Mumbling small wishes of her choice.

fun fact: remus used to have a crush on the sterling girl but moved on realising it was no use. (We'll see about that)

Part 2???

~dividers by @issysh3ll

[solivagant242]

losing you pt. 10

remus lupin x f!reader

warnings: strong angst, swearing, hospital, car accident

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 pt. 9 pt. 11

amberly is used as the MC here since i used to write a lot of fanfics with her, but feel free to self-insert or use whatever name you’d like <3

________________________________________

“Moony, have you eaten yet?” Her dark head pokes around the corner, framed by the untidy soft curls that he’d always longed to push back from her face. “It’s nearly three.”

He rests his burning eyes on his hands, groaning. “It is?”

She perches on the edge of his desk and leans forward to press a soft kiss on his cheek. “Yes, it is. Did you have lunch?”

Remus grimaces. “Forgot.”

Amberly sighs. “You need to eat, love.”

Her hands find their familiar spot in his hair and he pulls her into him by the waist, savoring the smell of lavender that’s imbued in her clothes and skin. “Thanks for checking on me.”

She nuzzles into his shoulder. “Of course.”

She was so warm. She’d always been warm, everything from those chocolate-colored eyes to her pale, gentle hands that had always been able to soothe his scars and wounds and fears. Her smile melted him like spring sunlight on stubborn snow.

Amberly stroked the back of his head. “It’s okay, Moony.”

He chucked a piece of crumpled paper across the room, fists clenched. “I should have gotten better than that”-

“You did the best you could, right? It’s not like you didn’t try.” Her big brown eyes are wide with concern.

“It wasn’t enough,” he spits, chest heaving. “I wasn’t enough.”

Amberly touches his shoulder and he collapses next to her on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. “You’re always enough, Remus. No matter what.”

A sob shakes his shoulders and he clings to her, tears soaking her jumper, as her fingers card through his hair. 

Icy tears are soaking Remus’ ears and pillow.

He’s been staring at the same blue-washed ceiling for hours now, unable to move or sleep or think anything other than the same four words that have been repeating mindlessly in his brain all day.

It’s all my fault.

It’s all my fault.

It’s all my fault.

If Amberly were here right now, she’d use her thumb to wipe his tears away and kiss the spots where they had been. She’d snuggle right up next to him and rest her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. He’d wake during the night to find her in the exact same position, clinging to him with her soft curls draped over her face. 

Once, Sirius had joked that sleeping with Amberly when she stayed the night must be like sleeping with a very large and very affectionate Venus flytrap. Remus had laughed as warmth flooded his bones and Amberly blushed next to him.

Now he doesn’t think she’ll ever look at him, much less hug him, again.

If she’s even here at all-

The thought hits him like a punch in the gut and he doubles up as a raw sob rends his chest in half. 

No more holding hands on the way to the bakery in the mornings. No more sleepy cuddles on the battered living room couch. No more back and neck rubs by the light of the fireplace in the evening. No more random animal and math facts exchanged over lunch, or cheesy cat memes sent over text at all hours of the day. 

All of that would be gone.

The added thought of and it’s all my fault wraps iron fingers of guilt around Remus’ ribs and squeezes. He buries his face in his hands as tears pour down his face, more tears than he believed possible after all the crying he’s been doing.

You did this to her. You pushed her away. Over and over again, after all she tried to do was help. You were a complete and utter prick to the one person who loved you more than she loved herself. 

Merlin, she’d do anything for me. Did do anything for me. Countless visions of keeping her waiting, of her making him his favorite food even when she was tired, of those brown eyes being exhausted and drained because of him rose to his thoughts. But always, always so warm and full of love and that he felt like he was coming home every time he saw her face.

Until now. 

Remus chokes back another sob.

The hospital gave him a room on the first floor, down the hall from Amberly. Apparently it was the “least they could do” after the state he’d been in when he saw her. He’d collapsed to his knees on the floor as the sheer force of what he’d done hit him. Sirius- who’d still been very close to punching his face in- had had to drag him out as the doctor watched impassively. 

Down the hall.

She’s just down the hall. 

His feet are on the ground before he knows it and he’s padding noiselessly down the white, blue-lit corridor. An eerie silence permeates everything. The narrow windows in front of the doors are dark and silent. No one is awake at two forty-three a.m.

Her room.

Her door.

Her bed.

Her-

Remus feels fresh tears pour down his face and he sinks onto the chair at the side of the bed. 

She’s still, so still. Her face is paler than ever against the sterile white of the hospital sheets. Her eyes are deeply shadowed, and she’s breathing so faintly that the blue quilt is hardly moving. Her hair is spread across the pillow like it’s melting into the night, barely discernible in the dimness of the room.

He takes her hand. He can’t remember the last time they held hands, not the way they’d used to. Fingers interlocked, warm and sure, the one single guarantee out of everything in this life that he’d loved and loved and loved.

Amberly stirs. 

His lips part as he turns towards her, shocked; her eyes flutter open and fix on him.

He can’t tell what she’s thinking. He can’t read her expression at all, and as he opens his mouth to croak out a I’msosorryIloveyoupleasedon’tleavemepleasepleaseplease-

“You’re not Remus.”

Her voice is soft, almost disappointed. There’s an odd note of resignation in it that strikes Remus to the core. 

He clears his throat and tries to keep the tears out of his eyes. “It’s me.”

“No,” she murmurs, shifting slightly in the bed. Her cast rustles against the covers. “He wouldn’t have come.” Her eyes close again.

Remus’ throat closes up at the note of assurance in her voice. “Wh- what do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Amberly mumbles. “Busy. He’s too busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“Stuff,” she breathes. “I think I should leave him alone. He doesn’t like when I help.” A tiny bit more alertness returns to her eyes and she gazes at him in the dark. “It’s my fault.”

“No,” Remus manages to choke out. “It’s not.”

Her eyes are luminous in the dark. “It is. It’s why I have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop”- Her voice is getting breathy and quiet as she sinks back down into sleep. “Stop caring.”

Then she’s asleep again and tears pour down Remus’ face as her hand goes limp and slowly, slowly slides away from his. 

[kaizokuniichan]

Attention Part 5 - Even Exchange

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro/AFAB Reader (referred to as she/her)/Trafalgar Law

Summary: You and Law finally come together in the most complete way.

Also known as: The chapter where Dev’s music nerdery is overwhelming (seriously there are an obscene amount of music references

CW: Mutual mastubation, oral sex, vaginal sex

Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word Count: 4.8k

Author’s Note: Slight spoiler for Law’s new awakened technique. I’m not sure of the exact logistics of how it works so I took some liberties for the sake of plot.

MDNI; 18+ READERS PLEASE

Divider by @/cafekitsune and banner by @/eelnoise

As you blinked yourself awake and took in your welcoming surroundings your stomach twisted into knots. For a moment you believed you’d been tricked by your overactive imagination—god knows how many times you’d dreamed of him bringing you here. Unsurprisingly it was cozy and dimly lit, slightly fragrant with the spicy scent of incense. The walls of course were metal but that didn’t make it feel unnaturally cold. A grand, Cedar wood desk stood proudly across from the bed with well-worn books and various articles strewn about in a disorganized heap.

“What’s with the mess?”

Striding over to join you, he quickly stacked the books and shuffled his papers.

“You damn Strawhats have been a constant pain in my ass even more these days.”

Giggling, you slid off the bed to admire the shiny coins displayed on the shelf above.

“You collect these?”

With a start he looked up, ears burning as you leaned closer to inspect them.

“Uh yeah. Just a little hobby of mine to pass the time.”

Your chest tightened as it inflated with affection.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s cute. I like knowing you have something that helps your uptight, nonexistent ass unwind.”

He peered intently into your eyes and you suddenly felt shy, as you always were around him. His stare was always so intense.

“Feel free to take a tour around the place. It’s not much but I’m happy to share it with you. If you’d like to stay.”

You cocked a mischievous brow.

“Are you planning on ravishing me tonight Law?”

He smiled without any skin-crawling lecherousness.

“I would love to, but we certainly don’t have to. You don’t even have to stay here tonight if you don’t want. I just wanted to show you my room and spend some time together since we’ve...had to keep a lower profile these days.”

“Not that it really matters considering Jean Bart keeps making suggestive comments about how his captain won’t stop drooling over me.”

His cheeks tinged a soft pink, yet he was bold enough not to deny it.

“Well…he might not be wrong.”

He gave you a crooked smile as he looked you up and down, letting his eyes drag over your bare legs exposed by your sleep shorts. As your body heated you felt a distant second heartbeat in your pelvic floor. You’d never not be amazed by how openly he desired you. How someone like him could desire you. You were someone whom he lusted after, and while it was exhilarating, it was also quite intimidating.

It’d been hard being so near him when you couldn’t touch him the way you wished. Onboard the Sunny you’d been nothing short of a stubborn barnacle at his side—shamelessly sidling up and wrapping yourself around him in an immovable grip. You’d been cautious during the early days of your tentative connection, but the more time you spent together—and after your very passionate excursion in the aquarium—you found him more than willing to allow you to handle him however you pleased, even responding in his own way. A secret squeeze of your thigh under the table and a brush of fingers when you were out in the open were his subtle showings of reciprocity. And of course the many secret kisses. Those were the best.

“Is there uh, a bathroom nearby? I’m a little warm. Wanna splash some water on my face.”

“Am I making you nervous?” He teased, eyes still twinkling with mirth.

“Um. Yes?”

He was so smug you wanted to kick him—he really could be such a bastard when he wanted. Sometimes he liked to be cheeky, and you loved those rare moments where he was laid-back and playful. How it made the cadence of a snare drum kick against your ribs.

“There’s an en-suite bathroom just to the left of the bed.”

“Oh how fancy.”

He stepped closer and in a mild panic you leaned to the side and rolled across the bed to where the bathroom stood. His soft laugh became muffled as you closed the door behind you.

The bathroom itself was nothing extravagant, but you hadn’t expected it to be. Perfectly practical, it was minimally furnished with nothing but the bare essentials. Two towels hung on a wooden rack, two toothbrushes sitting in a cup on the small counter. A grey bath mat lay at the foot of the shower stall, and from what you could see inside the shower, containers of liquid soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

As you walked up to the sink you noticed a small bottle of what appeared to be an oil cologne. Opening it and taking a sniff you were stricken with the same heady aroma he always carried on his skin and clothes. The scent, blended with a hint of antiseptic, always lingered after your brief hugs, and you’d spent many a night breathing it in whilst your hands played between your legs. Just a small whiff brought an immediate wetness to your panties.

Setting the bottle back down, you faced your reflection in the small mirror and pondered just how fuckable you looked. Your deliberation was tireless but necessary, and you wondered what it’d be like to fuck him. How he’d look. What he sounded like. What he tasted like. Were you going to fuck him tonight? You very much wanted to, but you were so anxious as to whether or not you’d even be good enough for him. You’d never had any complaints from previous partners, but Law seemed like someone who was difficult to please. What if it made things awkward? He was already such an awkward man, you’d hate if things became even more awkward.

“I hear you thinking in there, so I’ll just send you back to your room if you want.”

You bounded for the door and flung it open in a panic.

“Don’t you dare.”

He sat on the bed facing away from you.

“I don’t want you to feel any pressure.”

“I don’t feel pressured. I wanna stay here with you tonight.”

He turned to face you skeptically, refusing to move an inch from his seat.

“Law just get comfy. And take off those damn heeled boots.”

With another small smile he rose from the bed and crossed over to a closet you hadn’t noticed. Kicking off his shoes and pulling his sweater over his head, he revealed inch by inch the dark ink on his back contrasting with his tan skin—slightly obscured by the white tank top he’d been wearing underneath. You growled in frustration as he sat back down.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, turning his body to look at you.

“Nothing, it’s just. You spend all day with your shirts almost fully unbuttoned so I get a full view of your tits, but now that we’re alone you won’t even let me get a proper look.”

He turned back around and you were utterly mesmerized by the way his shoulders and biceps were accentuated by the flimsy fabric.

“I don’t do free shows, you’re gonna have to work for it.”

“You give enough free shows every day with those slutty clothes of yours.”

His breathy laugh filled you with tendrils of honey.

“Maybe if you’re good you’ll get something special.”

You hoped the sound of your gulp was only audible to you.

He observed with amusement as you stumbled over to the other side of the room, reaching your destination back at the desk. When you rested your bottom on the edge your fingers played with the grooves in the wood.

“I think we’ve done enough talking today Law.

His bouncing leg halted when you leaned back on your hands.

“I think so too.”

“Then…come here.”

If you could find a word to describe the way his body moved you’d settle on saunter. His lithe form beheld true majesty as he glided over to you—a little terrifying and absolutely thrilling.

He now towered over you, heavily sunken eyes filled with an almost primal, commanding lust. The tips of his fingers touched your cheek as he stepped closer, and the front of his legs pressed into yours.

You scooted back when he softly ordered you to sit. Immediately you spread your legs to allow him to accommodate the space between, and you looked into his eyes as he cradled your face. Blown wide irises roved endlessly as he studied you, mapping out every delicate feature. You placed a hand on his chest while the other reached up to play with the small hoop earrings in his lobe, tracing your thumb along the smooth surface.

You felt his body shudder as you tickled his sideburns, running your pads down his jawline where they met with his goatee. An indecipherable sound rumbled in his chest when he stepped deeper into your space, and he tightened the hand around the back of your neck as he leaned down.

There was no fanfare when your lips melded into a careful kiss. Your hand on his chest tightened it’s hold and wrinkled the fabric of his shirt while the other wrapped around his neck. It was uncertain whose tongue slipped into whose mouth first but they soon became entwined.

His hands slid down your sides in slow reverence as a whine curled in your throat. When he pulled you closer to bring your center flush with his hips, you marveled at how perfect he felt. Far better than what you could ever have imagined. Despite his lanky appearance his body was sturdy and solid. Carefully crafted as a means for survival.

Your hands continued to caress each other as he dug his fingers into your hips. Unsurprisingly (or maybe surprising to you) he was hard, and you felt a quaking in your thighs that would’ve made you crumble to the floor if you’d been standing. He continued to grip you with more assurance — much more demanding than any other time he’d touched you. Slipping his hands beneath your shirt to fondle your breasts, his thumbs rolled lightly over your nipples as he spread his fingers over your ribs. Throaty whimpers pierced your lust-filled haze as your hips undulated against his, desperately seeking relief.

His lips slipped from yours to make a drunken voyage down your jaw, teeth catching on your skin and licking flames of heated passion behind. He clutched you impossibly close and you wrapped your legs around him.

“You’re crushing all of my papers,” he murmured, voice low and dipped in chocolate.

“Good. Fuck those papers.”

Your hand began a journey to the top of his jeans, unfastening the button and pulling down the zipper. His hand came to grasp yours as if to stop you, and when you looked up you were met with a question lining his golden irises. You reassured him with a nip at his bottom lip, sliding his pants down just enough to comfortably slip your hand inside. His body was hot and trembled with restraint, and he let out a hiss when you swirled a thumb over the already wet, flushed head.

The air in the room suddenly felt cold when he stepped back.

“I...I want you to watch me.”

Your mind became waterlogged as he took a seat across from you on the bed.

“If you really want to hold my attention take that shirt off.”

He smirked, shifting back and pulling his jeans down to the middle of his thighs.

“You first.”

You hadn’t expected this level of sultry confidence from him. Normally he was especially careful when the two of you were alone—never wanting to make you feel as if he was taking advantage. He’d always allowed you to lead.

Yet the basis of your relationship had always been an even exchange, and you were more than willing to comply.

His breath hitched when you slipped your shirt over your head to reveal your bare chest and pert nipples, and his eyes kept yours leashed as he began to stroke himself. You’d never felt more assured of his attraction to you than when your eyes were tethered to his.

He allowed you a moment to admire his dick as he removed his shirt, and you were almost too eager to have it in your hands. Or mouth. Or pussy. Anywhere he wanted to put it really.

He leaned back, allowing dribbles of pre-cum to leak onto his abs, and you wrestled with your mind to accept the reality that this unbelievably gorgeous man was pleasuring himself to the live image of you. With his shirt tossed aside, he allowed you to feast on the hilly planes of inked tan skin and sinewy muscles, all converging into a delectable point between his pelvic bones.

“Law...do you even realize how sexy you are?”

His mouth quirked with pride, still languidly stroking himself.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replied, the soft tenor of his voice making you throb.

“I refuse to believe I’m the first person to tell you this.”

He sucked in air through clenched teeth and moved his hand faster.

“Well, you’re the first person it ever mattered to hear it from,” he sighed, the flushed head poking between the middle of his fist.

“You want it?” he asked.

“God yes,” you breathed as your pussy clenched.

He leaned over to grasp the rolling chair at his desk and dragged it over in front of him.

“Sit here.”

Almost immediately you complied. Pulling off your shorts and opening your legs you felt the cool air seep into the dampness of your panties.

“Are you gonna put on a show for me Law?”

His hips stirred and he picked up the pace, lips parting as he took in short breaths.

“If that’s something that you want.”

Your center continued to pulsate and you went to snap your legs closed when he grunted a sound of disapproval and shook his head.

“No. Let me see you.”

You’d heard him be commanding before—he was the Captain of a notorious pirate crew after all. But this new authoritative tone he directed at you suggested he wasn’t to be defied, and it excited you. So you opened your legs for him.

“What would you like for me to do Law?”

He breathed shallowly as he pumped himself—liquid pearls dribbling over his knuckles.

“I want…you. All of you. But first I’d like to see how excited you can get for me.”

You let your hand drift between your legs as a sumptuous chill trickled down to your toes.

“Why won’t you touch me?”

He huffed, spreading his legs wider as he bucked his hips.

“He’s already done that for you, hasn’t he?”

Heat fanned across the back of your neck as you were brought back to your kitchen dalliance with Zoro several days prior.

“I wanna do things differently.”

You huffed in frustration. “Well…at least let me put your dick in my mouth.”

His hand stilled as a surprised chuckle escaped him.

“We can do that in a little while. Spread your legs and pull your panties to the side for me.”

You wanted to protest and move things along far more quickly but you understood his need to move at his own pace. And the slow-burning foreplay was definitely not unwelcome.

It was almost embarrassing how slick-saturated your panties had become as you tugged them to the side. Cautiously you looked down and swirled your finger around your bud, releasing a sigh of relief.

“Look at me.”

It’s not that you’d never had an audience before, but Law’s presence made you incredibly self-conscious and unsure.

But as you looked back to him you remembered what made you fall for him in the first place. He’d been so insistent on fixing a part of yourself you’d believed to be broken—like the worn binding of an aged book—and he’d repaired you good as new. Your heart bloomed with achingly sweet love.

Your eyes fluttered while slipping a finger inside yourself, and he groaned as his fist moved faster.

“Fuck. Never seen anything so pretty.”

You melted.

“Oh Law.”

His brows furrowed as he tugged himself, adam’s apple bobbing with every gulping breath. You clenched when you added another finger.

“You want me to eat that pretty pussy of yours?”

You whined louder than you’d intended.

“Yes. Law please.”

“Slip another finger inside.”

Your body was wracked with shudders that had nothing to do with the cold air. A stone sunk into your belly as you eyed his dick still being fisted in front of you. He was much thicker than what you were capable of providing for yourself, even while pumping the three fingers inside you without being told to do so. Finding it difficult to keep contact with his probing eyes you dropped your head back with a shameless moan.

“Law I want you so badly.”

You heard him grunt as he halted his movements.

“I wanna give it to you love.” Suddenly his eyes flew open.

“Um..I mean...”

You lifted your head back up and smiled.

“Did you just call me love?”

“I didn’t mean…that’s not what I meant to say.”

His scrambling was impossibly cute and completely fruitless. Sliding off your seat you knelt down and settled between his legs. When you looked up his lips were parted and glistening as his chest heaved imperceptibly faster.

“You know, you called me baby that one time too.” He rolled his eyes to hide his embarrassment but you saw it anyway. “I never took you as the type to give pet names.”

Covering his scorching hand with yours, you gripped his fist and guided him, squeezing it in with reassurance.

“It was just a slip of the tongue. I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Oh didn’t you?” You gave him a pout. “Am I not your baby? Am I not your love?”

He cupped your cheek with his other hand, tilting your face up to look at you properly. What a sight you must’ve been, nestled between his legs as he pulled himself closer to release. You hoped it was everything he’d dreamed of. He leaned down to give you a kiss, gripping your jaw tightly.

“I’ll call you whatever you like. I’ll give you whatever you like.”

You shook your head and you leaned back.

“I’m gonna give you something first. Straighten up and watch me.”

You could see him wanting to argue but your sharp look held him back. He sat up and watched as you leaned closer to run your tongue along the trail of dark hair leading to where both your hands held him. The pheromones of his desire left you intoxicated as you transformed into a feral seductress for him—burying your head between his legs. After swatting his hand away you wasted no time. Despite the saltiness that stained your tongue it was mixed with a decadent sweetness. Slowly you picked him apart as you licked along the underside.

The heavy hand gripping the back of your head was welcomed, though he still made no move to force you down. For now he was weakened by the endless weeks filled with pining and yearning, and he allowed you to take control. The wait had proven to be worthwhile as you slid further down until your nose met his pelvis. He felt heavenly in your mouth. As he tickled your esophagus you were brought back to a supposed trick given to you by a friend that was said to prevent gagging. Tucking your thumb into your fist you sucked him slowly, bobbing your head up and down gently. His other hand came back to rest on your cheek in a moment of tenderness that counteracted the sublime sin in your mouth.

Evidently the supposed trick was proven to be false for when he poked the back of your throat you gagged. His hands attempted to pull you off but you remained in place—resigned to keeping him completely encased in your warmth. Taking one of his hands off your face you tangled your fingers together and breathed through your nose, resuming your hedonistic suckling.

The faster you sucked the more his breaths became ragged. He was a fairly respectable man when he wasn’t a merciless pirate, though his careful respectfulness only encouraged your mouth to service him more provocatively. He deserved it. You let your saliva run freely as trails of drool dribbled past your lips, lapping your tongue sloppily around the shaft. With an erotic hum you slurped him down your throat. He panted as more of your mouth juices coated your fingers, and he gripped your head tighter as curses tumbled from his lips.

“Fuck. You love having me in your mouth, don’t you?”

You removed yourself from his length and sat back on your knees, eyes wet from your fervent efforts.

“I love it. I love it so fucking much.”

He shifted to lean his arm on the mattress, cocking his head to the side.

“You want me to fuck your pretty mouth?”

You were unable to answer, too preoccupied with rocking back and forth for some relief.

“Well?”

You took him in your hand and stroked idly as you carefully considered your words.

“I wanna shove you so far down my throat that I can hardly breathe.”

The hand still on your head tugged you closer until you were a mere centimeter away. Your tongue poked out to swipe kitten licks along the head.

“Go ahead and show me how much you want me”

Molten molasses dripped into your panties as you gobbled him up, consuming him completely. You pulled more grunts from his lips, licking, bobbing, and slurping noisily. You made it nasty, showing how much you hungered—how much you craved him. No longer holding himself back he groaned and began thrusting into your mouth. Holding you in place he bucked his hips, shoving himself further down your throat. All hesitancy of his vanished as he used you, tugging his pants down his knees and squeezing his thighs around your head. His ragged breaths grew heavier as you brought him closer and closer to the edge, and you prepared yourself to swallow his milk when he forcefully pulled you off.

“Law please, let me...”

“Get up and lay on the bed.”

You wanted to continue protesting but you were still in an agreeable mood and did as you were told, sitting down on the plush mattress and scooting back against the pillows. He stood to remove his pants and boxers in one fell swoop, making the mattress dip as he mirrored your previous position between his legs.

“I’m gonna give you something he hasn’t, and I want you to picture him watching as I make you cum.”

An icy fist clutched your heart as flashes of green skittered across your mind’s eye. You could almost feel the other stolen piece of your heart toss you a look of amusement as Law slid off your panties. A warm and dexterous tongue flicked between your lower lips and you let out a whimper and covered your mouth.

“Lemme hear you,” he murmured into your skin, nosing your bud.

“I don’t want my voice to bounce off the walls. What if someone hears?”

He considered your words before sitting up.

“Room.”

An invisible, spherical barrier of chantilly lace enclosed your bodies in a noiseless cocoon.

“Silent.”

“What the hell was that?”

He laid back down and kissed your folds.

“Now no one will be able to hear you except for me.”

A thrill of electricity sparked as he hooked your legs over his shoulders—your heart thundering in your chest as his breaths puffed against your sex. A slick river of ambrosia trickled down towards your ass and he licked it clean, groaning as he buried his face into your pussy.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

You wished he hadn’t brought up your eventual departure as your eyes prickled with unshed tears.

“Law, please don’t.”

He licked a long stripe between your folds, wiggling his tongue inside to lap at your juices. Your head fell back as he devoured you, strumming the strings of your longing and playing a ballad of burgeoning ecstasy. The frolicking staccato of your moans married with the symphonic melody of your panting—crescendoing louder when he thrust three fingers inside. Notes of D, E, and A pulled a debaucherous allegro from your walls. He tuned your body to the very key of his choosing.

You clambered closer and closer to your peak and you knew you’d be too exhausted to continue if you prematurely toppled over the edge. With laborious difficulty you pulled him off your heat, shuddering as your body somersaulted back down.

“Law I need you to fuck me. I can’t wait anymore.”

Danger flashed in his eyes and you flattened yourself into the bed.

“I hope you know what you’re asking for. I’ve been holding myself back all this time.”

You knew he wasn’t just referring to tonight. Shuddering from the threat you opened your legs wider and parted your pussy lips with your fingers as an invitation to him. He covered your body with his and lay wet kisses on your face.

“Law. Please.”

His hand cupped your jaw and turned your head to the side, licking sloppy swipes of his tongue along your neck and down your throat. His hips ground against yours as he coated his dick with your juices.

Taking hold and positioning himself at your entrance, he poked your puffy flesh with his head. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he surged forward, halfway sheathing himself inside. He filled you more and more as he bucked his hips forward, further enveloping himself inside your wetness. As he settled at his hilt you brought your knees up, opening yourself completely for him to take.

“Law I want you to use me”

He throbbed and slid his arms beneath your back to grasp your shoulders and hold you close.

“I’m not going to use you. I’m going to pour everything into you that I’ve wanted to give to you all this time.”

You gasped when he thrusted roughly, the slow and steady rhythm of his balls slapping against your ass making you quiver. His mouth hovered over yours as his fingers dug into your flesh, and the harmony of your moans smoothed over the carnality of your want. Your sweat-slicked bodies glided against each other, and the squelching sounds of your slick ricocheted against the walls of your sonically concealed bubble. Senseless babbling urged him on as he fucked into you faster, knocking himself into your hips and pressing your knees up to your chest.

“Fuck, I wanna keep you. Wanna keep you right here with me. Can’t let you go.”

Goose-pimples freckled your flesh as you gushed around him. He’d hit your fleshy and sensitive center sooner than you’d hoped, and you arched off the bed with a wail.

“Law…Law…Law…” you chanted, curling into him when he released his bruising grip on your legs. As he continued grinding his hips the springs of the bed squeaked in exhaustion, and you were endlessly thankful for his versatile technique.

“Can I have you? Are you mine?”

“I’m yours Law. I’ll always be yours.”

You felt a moment of guilt knowing there was still another piece of your heart being held by another man, but you were soon distracted when the stilted pap, pap, pap of his hips grew rougher, and his hand lunged forward to grip the headboard. Your world was filled to the brim with watery sobs and heady groans, rising into an amalgamation of calcified bliss.

You came before him when his calloused fingers slipped over your bud in messy circles—quaking and shivering as your toes curled. Your body continued to shake as his skin slapped into yours, filthy promises of ruination filling your ears.

He soon pulled out and fucked into his fist in a frenzy, spilling himself on your stomach and thighs. Your heaving breaths intermingled with his as he dragged his dick filthily along the trail of his spend.

You were fucked. Physically and mentally so. The words you’d locked away in a carbon coated safe threatened to seep through the cracks as you tangled your fingers into his messy, onyx locks. He cradled your face in his hands, his new favorite thing to do, as he traced your lips with his thumb and littered kisses along your lips and cheeks. A painful sob threatened to escape, and you were frustrated as tears spilled from your eyes.

“Law I…”

“I know. Me too.”

Your happiness was bittersweet as you drew shapes along his back before he finally settled down beside you and covered you both with the covers. Turning to face him you slipped a leg between his and wrapped an arm over his waist, enjoying his heat seeping into your body.

With a flick of his wrist he muttered a “shambles” and your privacy dome disappeared, golden lights dimming as you both succumbed to a delicious, dreamy slumber.

[megumimania]

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES - ryomen sukuna

summary: your boyfriend hates modern technology.

warnings: sukuna x fem reader, sukuna is an old hag (affectionately), sukuna not fucking with consumerism is he in his marxist era?🤔, sukuna is a softie when he wants to be, sukuna is ooc because i hate writing mean men :), yuji being a hottie is my fav hc of all time, i can’t believe im giving amazon free promo 😞.

notes: i missed you guys!

sukuna cant wrap his head around technology.

he doesn’t understand why companies sell ‘new’ phones every single year, when they perform the same exact functions as the previous one.

he doesn’t like how your coffee machine has too many buttons when all he wants in the morning is just a cup of black coffee to get him through the day. sukuna just prefers doing things the old fashioned way which makes him subject to teasing by you and his little brother yuuji.

he doesn’t care though, constantly talking about how he’s ‘escaped the matrix’ by not owning an up to date phone and only getting his news from the daily paper and tv. however his view on technology changed once you brought alexa home.

initially he thought that it was a speaker and was confused to why you bought another one. “it’s not just a speaker ryo,” you corrected him swiftly. “she’s a digital assistant that can tell you the time, the weather, recipes and she can even tell jokes.”

sukuna looked at you with the same wariness he’d give to a snake oil salesman. “can’t your phone do the same exact thing for less?” you knew he was lowkey right but your stubbornness refused to let him get the upper hand.

“that’s not the point babe.” you playfully rolled your eyes at him, carrying the box to the kitchen counter and setting it down with a loud thump. “now if you’ll excuse me i’ll be busy setting my alexa up.” you huffed as you opened the instructions trying to make sense of them.

sukuna looked over at your focused expression. your brow furrowed with concentration as you read the instructions. it was simple really and within a couple of minutes the alexa was ready to go and by the joyous look of pride on your face sukuna knew that he was going to be in for one hell of a ride.

and unfortunately he was right.

life with an alexa was hell. sukuna barely got through the day without hearing the monotone female voice rattle off the hottest food spots or tell you a stupid joke that was suddenly the most funniest thing alive. he used to make you laugh like that!

he felt like the speaker was taunting him. hell he couldn’t even have some down time with you without that stupid speaker getting in the way. it was literally like he was third wheeling all the time and he hated it. you were his girlfriend first!

sukuna didn’t like being second best. especially to a glorified speaker.

you and sukuna were cuddling on the couch together after finishing a movie—terminator 2 to be exact. “so what do you think of the alexa?” you asked whilst the credits rolled, mindlessly stroking his cheek with your acrylic nails whilst he rubbed your legs.

sukuna tensed at the question as he tried to think of a way to answer without sounding like a complete asshole. “well…im not really a fan.” you could already tell from the dry tone and his poor attempt of acting unfazed that he was lying through his teeth.

“if that’s the case then why did i find it in the bathtub?” you pulled up the waterlogged alexa in a ziploc bag. sukuna would usually have a sarcastic reply in his arsenal but he was now looking at you as if he was a deer caught in headlights.

“fine, i used the damned thing.” he raised his hands up as he accepted defeat much to your surprise. “it fell into the bathtub when i was trying to stream that megan the stallion song yuuji told me to listen to. he said something about the song needing to go number 1 on the charts.”

you sat back in disbelief. you didn’t know whether to be annoyed, angry or smitten with him. “i’m glad yuji is helping you become more cultured but why did my alexa have to die for such a good cause!” you wailed dramatically collapsing on the floor, clutching the alexa to your chest.

sukuna lifted you off the floor with such ease it almost made you jealous. “stop whining i already ordered another one. it should be coming in a few days.” he said with his usual gruff tone that was laced with softness, peppering kisses down your neck.

you giggled as his stubble tickled your skin. “that was quick, you missed it that much already?” you teased him whilst you hooked your arms around him running your nails down the nape of his neck.

sukuna rolled his eyes at your playful expression. “i’m still anti technology, don’t be fooled.” one thing sukuna was to his core was a hater but like most haters he rarely stood on business.

“whatever you say babe.” you hummed biting back a smile. you and sukuna knew give or take two months that he’d change his opinion about it.

[thealexandriaarchives]

The Season's Been Laid Out in the Cards...

The above are a direct depiction of the editing of the show:

Lou views the wall of evidence with Sam Dalton, and says 'So it seems like it's about Objects. Do we have these things? Do we put them on the numbers? (This is correct to escape the step)

The lore provided for Sam Dalton's disappearance reads: "SAMUEL DALTON PRESUMED DEAD Friends and Colleagues gathered this past Saturday to mourn the passing of Samuel Dalton, who disappeared during his magic act last July. Dalton had encircled himself with household objects over the numbers of a clock when a bolt of lightning struck a magnet overhead leaving behind only his smoldering footprints. He is survived by his two sons, Ray and Bolt Dalton, who have since denounced the magical arts."

Brennan suggests someone goes out to start collecting the objects they need, and someone else "stay in here and see if they exist in this space". Sam looks shocked and delighted, looking offstage at someone, and biting his hand to stay quiet. Brennan notices, and asks "What are you biting your hand about?" suspiciously. Sam dramatically mimes zipping his lip and says nothing.

A couple of things that are not in the editing but personal theory notes:

This editing compared to the fairly clear and concise wrap-up on rewatch, especially Sam's over the top reaction to this bit, and the multiple maintained clips that carefully compare the red room to hell/purgatory (Siobhan calls it Sartre-esque, etc) while we are now seeing a decay makes me fairly sure it's foreshadowing.

Escape the Room aired in March, but if we have a 13 episode season again the finale will be in July, when Samuel Dalton disappeared.

I do not know if the episodes are meant to be in order, or if they're exact #s, but there are many things Sam has given this season (Plant, Watch, Jacket) as either prizes or challenges directly, OR episodes could be more metaphorically interpreted (Ace of Cheetos - the single episode designed to torture the snacker, Two of Pillows for the Newlyweds)

Episodes like 6x03 the Three of Coats for Sam Says 3 with a wardrobe challenge or 6x06 Deja Vu with a with a watch prize and time theme have all of the above etc

The Playing Card Items: Ace - Cheeto, 2 - Pillows, 3 - Coats, 4 - Lint Rollers, 5 - Plants, 6 - Clocks, 7 - Vases, 8 - Shoe, 9 - Fire Extinguisher, 10 - Guitar, Jack - Smoke Detector, Queen - Surge Protector, King - Paper Clip

The Other Items Surrounding Samuel Dalton: Scales, Phonograph, Typewriter, Rotary Phone, Photo Camera, Video Camera, Pocket Watch, Bowler Hat

[aceofstars0]

How to make yourself asexual ring!

It can also be used to make an aromantic, pansexual or any type of ring at all!

Materials:

The most basic materials for this are hot glue and parchment paper (NOT wax paper)

Helpful things to have: if you want to color it you'll need a Sharpie the color you want your ring

(green sharpie was the only one I had on hand)

1. Measure your finger. You can just wrap the parchment paper around your finger and mark where it starts and ends. When you draw it out, you'll want to add a bit of allowance so it's not too short.

The other lines don't have to be the exact width you want your ring, but can be a good guideline

2. Fill it with hot glue. You can be pretty generous with this. Block it in first, then use your nozzle to move around the glue to be smoother.

3. Fold over the parchment paper and press with something flat. You don't want to press too hard otherwise it'll be really thin.

4. Once it's fully cooled, peel it off. I recommend you wait to trim it to make sure it's all even.

5. Wrap it around your finger and mark where it meets. You don't want it to be too tight or you won't be able to get it off, but not too loose or it won't stay on. then once you're happy, take it off and glue it together, making sure it lines up with your mark.

6. Trim. It's a little hard to do, but try to get all the edges relatively straight. You can skip this step if you want to.

7. Color your ring! I recommend using a permanent marker because as you can see my guidelines stuck to the hot glue lol. I couldnt find a black sharpie unfortunately.

You can color it any way you want and can even add glitter, little charms, and beads!

That's all! I've always wanted rings for my asexuality and pansexuality but they're hard to find in the wild and I don't particularly like shopping online, so this was an easy way show to show my identity!

Also sorry it's the end of pride month, I completely forgot I could do this until an hour ago lol

[heartshapedbubble]

Could I perhaps have something like those 2 long and well written Joseph and Luchino fic but with Soul Catcher? Thank you🙏

anon i am SO SORRY this took so long you might as well have my first born

also english isn't my first language so please have mercy on me i know i reuse the same words over and over 😔 reqs like these sadly clog my inbox even tho i like writing them so i'm gonna do something about them after i empty it!!

my very own prince charming, a soul catcher fanfic🧲☠️

cw for vomit mention in case you have emetophobia, reader's gender not specified although soul catcher uses a few spanish pet names (nouns) that are gendered because haha language rules, not proofread, warning for intense corniness, this is very bad i apologize, ALSO VERY LONG

-------------------------------------------------------

~

There are amazing forces of Attraction and Repulsion between souls; just like when fate guides some people together and causes others to part.

~

After a period of indecisive skimming through the bookshelf, you picked out a thick, hardcover book.

You'd consider yourself quite picky regarding books - just a flashy cover and a taunting description wouldn't do it for you. A beautiful, elegant maiden and a handsome, charming prince were just one-dimensional props in the story, and you found all of those "new " and "wonderful " fantasy worlds described and mapped out on the front page generic and bland. You always seeked out something new, something that would leave you thirsting and longing for each damned word pressed onto the yellowing paper, make your fingers trail over dozens of pages in mere minutes. Yet, considering your little town in the south was limited to just one small, dusty library, finding such books would be considered an extreme sport.

So for now, you had to be satisfied with the usual, popular literature that the townsfolk read.

But today was special - you weren't in the mood for something new, or something outstanding, in fact you'd even say you wanted to read something normal. Something you could nonchalantly mention to your friends during afternoon coffee, with a plot so malleable and simple it would be woven around your conversation like it was nothing. The misadventures of a rookie knight, or the sorrows of a young, noble lady, all interpreted differently and abstractly and able to be swiftly analyzed and twisted over a cup of overly sweet coffee. Although the pile of smooth, newly released paperbacks at the entrance intrigued you, a minute later you found yourself squished between two dusty, polished wooden shelves, inspecting the book you just picked out.

Well, you didn't know you'd stoop that low, but what caught your eye right now was a book of fairy tales and fables. It was an old release, presumably donated to the library considering the oil stains on the brown paper that wrapped itself around the thick leather cover. Although worn out by time and basically crumbling from the outside, on the inside the lettering was flawless and written in an old, thick cursive, and simply bringing your face closer to the text would bless you with the scent of old, yet well kept books - the fresh smell of walnuts and baldachin beds and white cotton dresses, and even lilac bushes in the spring. Although all of these associations were of a life unknown to you, for some reason they made you feel at home.

There was another reason for you picking out this particular book - a reason you'd rather carry with you to your grave out of pride, unable to bend your head down and admit it. When life got unbearable and overbearing and the only way you felt safe and well was under heavy linen bedsheets or in the shade of the old pear tree, you'd curl up and indulge in the exact same books you usually despise. A humbling experience, indeed, but at times where safety and love were most neccessary fantasies were the quickest, most low-key way of getting what you needed the most at the moment. Projecting your being onto the flat sheet of a protagonist, you'd visualise yourself instead of them, you being the one kissing the hero's fading scars or having your hair braided by the thin, nimble fingers of the king's son. The amount of scenarios was neverending, and, well, if you couldn't get your fix with all these readily available options, you felt like you're doomed.

The book was now set inside your trusty linen bag while you were walking home. Oddly, the usually loud and populated city market was silent and not a soul could be seen out on the street, not even a head popping out of the window or a hand reaching for the hanged clothes that hung on the ropes high above the rocky path. While you were crossing the town bridge, you decided to stop to take a deep breath and enjoy for a bit, now that you weren't being pushed onward by the citizens and the merchants that usually piled behind you.

It does take a while to learn savor things, doesn't it? It takes until adolescence until the dark chocolate on your tongue unveils its rich, deep and bitter flavor, until you learn how special that first sip of morning coffee is and how good of a feeling it is to simply have another hand wrapped around yours. Same goes for nature, you thought to yourself as you looked over the bridge, watching the river speed under the arch and the plants inside of it wave around like silk scarfs. Without the noise pollution, you were finally able to hear the satisfying noises of the water sloshing over the rocks, droplets hitting each other every second. Without a second thought, you laid beside the edge of the bridge, your bag lazily hanging off of your wrist, and let yourself get lulled to sleep by the melody of the current.

That is, until the straps of the bag slipped off of your wrist.

Fuck.

You immediately jumped to your feet in panic, looking around for your bag. Yet, it was too late. It was nowhere to be found - it was probably already driven away by the river, taken to god-knows-where.

Well, it's not like you weren't aware of the risk. But your heart still ached - that was not your book, after all. And what a beautiful, old edition it was as well! There was no way you'd be able to properly apologize to the librarian, unless....

"Oye, muñeca, ta libre."

You jumped at the sudden voice whispering at your ear. You were sure no one was around here except you... or maybe..?

Slowly turning around, your face was met with another, yet wider, lathered with paint and shaded by the hat above's enormous brim. As the face moved away from yours and the person straightened their back, you found yourself gazing up and down at - what seemed to be, at least - a tall, youngish man, couldn't be above 28. Dressed in gaudy purple, green and black, adorned with flowers and gilded accessories, he looked like a living puppet, his chest and shoulders wide and his waist slim, proportions of a wooden harlequin they sold during the holiday season in the toy shop. Hanging off of his wrist was your beloved linen bag, the forsaken book inside still in tact, not a single droplet of water blemishing the paper.

"Who...? How did you...?" You muttered nonsense, as your arms needily reached for the bag that he gently waved around. Props to the visuals, but you had your priorities.

"It's all reflexes, sugar. Was taking a nap underneath the bridge, you know, all that wandering around numbs out your legs, and your little sack here just happened to fall close enough to my hand for me to grab it in time. Be a little more careful next time, will you, doll?" The man-puppet replied nonchalantly as he tossed the bag into your arms.

"Thank you, I- wait, what?" You quickly snapped out of your daze. "Napping? Under the bridge? "

"Don't judge it before you try it", he whistled, crossing his arms behind his head, "The cobblestone ain't the comfiest, but it does wonders for your back."

You sneered at his carefree expression, as if lying under a bridge was the most normal thing to do. Who exactly was this fellow, and who did he think he was?

"And you expect to believe me all that?"

"Hm?" He jolted a bit, not expecting a question, maybe a compliment, but definetly not a skeptical remark.

"Napping under a bridge? Seriously? You catching my bag is impressive, yes, but there's no way it was that much of a skillful feat. You probably dozed by the river's shore and suddenly found a bag by your side like any other guy at this hour. Who are you even, some wannabe-show-off-superhero?"

To your suprise, he just smirked back at you, lowering his torso until his face was just inches away from yours. So close, you could feel his warm breath on your cheeks, and his raspy voice rumbled inside your ears.

"How about you take a wild guess."

Stumped by his question, you took a few steps back. Your eyes now digesting his form in his entirety, you rubbed your chin as you gazed up and down at the man, posing, obviously very into the careful stare you were dissecting him with.

"Enjoying the view, hm, azúcar? "

"Give me a break! I'm trying to focus." You mumbled, panicking a bit, sensing that your cheeks started to flame up. To be honest - even under all that fabric and thick paint, he was quite a looker. The black paint defined his jawline in all the right places, and man, that silly outfit of his was tailored pretty damn well, gripping his legs and his biceps enough to define them nicely.

Although visually he was as fancy as a rich man's birthday cake, nothing seemed to pop out from his outfit, as if every embroidered piece of textile and every golden stud was carefully planned out. However, upon better inspection, one of them seemed to take the cake - it was the small shiny skull on top of his hat, shaped like a squished pear, a few nails stabbed into it like birthday candles. The cherry on top of it all - metaphorically and literally.

"The skull on your hat... looks like a well-made prop to me. You're some kind of entertainer, huh?"

A playful smile appeared on the lad's lips, yet it wasn't a confirming one. "You're getting closer, but no, not exactly."

"Street musician?"

"I can be one if you desire, but it's not exactly my main job."

"Actor?"

"Only behind the scenes, dear. But I can see by the look in your eye that you're going to head in the right direction." This little guessing game seemed to amuse him to no end.

"With all that flashy wear, it seems fair to assume you might even be some kind of high-end magician, performing for nobles or aristocrats. Or some wannabe wizard."

He bit his lip, the smile widening with each guess. He seemed more excited about this than you were.

A flower painted around his left eye. A belt fastened around his waist, with a big golden buckle. Sheer black gloves covering his hands in their entirety, bones painted in gold on his knuckles and fingers.

A glowing ring - no, a disk - hanging from the side of his belt, rocking with the movement of his hips.

Wait. It couldn't be. The disk looked too...

"Hold on a second. You couldn't be..."

"Sí, muñeca? "

"Are you..."

Before you could even finish your sentence he grinned from ear to ear and inched even closer to you, his nose now touching yours, as if he just managed to read your mind.

"Bingo."

~

The legend of the Soul Catcher was told times and times again, twisted and folded like fresh taffy to suit every possible scenario in one's life. To children, it was told to scare them into going to bed in time. To teenagers, it was told to ward them off from the forest at the edge of the town. To young adults, it was told to motivate them into becoming independent and to work hard. To newlyweds, it became a prayer, to protect the newly formed family and to bring safety to their home. He was not the Reaper, but if a soul was left astray, detached from the body it resided in, everyone knew well that once the Soul Catcher gets his hands on it, that it won't be back ever again. He was both a devil and a saint, a villain and a vigilante - but one thing was sure, he was well respected. No one knew if it was out of fear or out of genuine admiration. And what was even weirder - not a single person was sure if he ever actually existed.

Not a single adult, at least.

The legend was not a new one, in fact, it has been told for a little less than a century. If you were to have a little extra patience and attention, you could hear the town's elders occassionally mumble about seeing him as a child in the forest, or him visiting them in a dream. But their interpretations varied from tale to tale - he went from a spirit, to a ghoul, to simply an omen, either good or bad. Since the townspeople couldn't agree on a single, concrete definition, the Soul Catcher remained a concept, embodied by what seemed to be multiple entities.

However, if you were to ask a child about the Soul Catcher, you'd get a much more vivid and universal description than anything an adult could tell you. All of them were along the lines of "magical jester", and what was weirder, almost all of the children confessed that the Soul Catcher played with them. And no, it wasn't just a single sighting, he played with multiple kids at once, even going as far to balancing three of them on his shoulders and telling them stories. During the hot, damp afternoon hours of the summer, huge groups of children snuck out of their homes just to play with him. When their mothers soaked their cramped hands and their fathers took their first break after the morning shift, their beloved kids were out on the dusty streets, carefully following every word seeping off of the Soul Catcher's silver tongue.

The only thing that bound the varying opinions and theories of both the young and the old was the trusty disk that always hung by his hip, rumored to be the tool he used to attract and harvest souls. And this same legendary disk was now hanging off of the belt of the man in front of you, green and purple mist enveloping it.

The myth himself, in the flesh, in front of you.

"You were quicker than I thought you'd be. Bravo, dollface." He smiled and patted your head. "If we ignore your initial hostility, you seem quite confident in the fact that i'm the real deal. Mind telling me why?"

"Well, you don't see someone parading around with THE exact disk that the Soul Catcher uses. Everyone agrees on the main description of its appearance, but to be completely fair, no one around here is skilled enough to make a replica that's convincing enough."

"I see. It's nice to see somebody with both the wits and the pretty face." He chuckled. Who would have known that he's such a flirt? Nontheless, to your shame your face lit up at his silly compliment. There was just something about him that made you weak in the knees.

"Alright. I believe I should prove you I'm the real thing now." He unhooked the disk from his belt, spun it around in his hand, and hopped a few steps away from you. He pointed the disk at your chest, positioning himself as if he's getting ready to react to a suprise attack. You didn't know what he was trying to do, but you felt as if you shouldn't make a sound or even object to it.

A tension-filled silence wrapped around you two for 20 seconds. After 10 more which seemed more like 10 minutes, you felt your body move. Move, although your legs were planted at the same spot they were before. Your head ached and pulsed, you felt dizzy as if your intestines were tying themselves into knots. To be sick without actual pain, to move without any movement, what was he doing to you? If this keeps up, you might just end up vomiting out your stomach along with its contents. It was like being carsick, except the sickness rumbled not only through your abdomen, but through each one of your limbs as well.

"Here, I stopped. It's all over. Sorry for this."

The headache seemed to halt, and your body was back to normal, yet your hands and legs still felt a bit sore. He was now above you, his hand stretched out to your sides in case you lost your balance.

"...What did you just do to me?" You yawned, trying to stand up straight again.

"What you just experienced was your soul being harvested from your, already inhabited, body. I usually refrain from doing this, but I felt like I should let anyone that witnesses me up close go through this. Y'know, I want to be honest with people. That although they've seen me in the flesh and talked to me, they're fully aware of what I can do so they can prevent themselves from getting harmed."

"Does this imply you sucked someone's soul out from their living body?"

"Maybe", he shamefully turned his head away, "but it was never on purpose. Usually it was them reaching for the disk, or trying to see it up close. It pains me, since in most cases it's nearly impossible to return the original soul to its old body."

An awkward silence ensued.

"Sorry for ruining the mood, I felt like I needed to warn you first."

"Oh no, seriously, it's alri-"

"May I walk you to your house, jewel?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me the first time." He extended his hand, waiting for your next move.

~

What a peculiar man, indeed. First he tries to suck out the life out of you to give you a heads-up, and then he offers to walk you home like a gentleman.

And you'd be lying if that offer didn't sound thrilling. So now, your hand was intertwined with his, you trying to slow down as much as possible to make the moment last.

"I realized I had forgot to ask for your name. My apologies. Not very gentlemanly of me, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't mind it. It's ____."

"___..." He looked up at the sky, rubbing his chin, as if he was trying to remember something, your name echoing on his lips multiple times.

"Pretty name, but it doesn't ring a bell. You're not among the horde of youth that I visit, are you?"

"Nope. I'd say i'm more of a loner most of the time. I like socializing and all, but nothing's like a good book that you can read in one sitting."

"I figured. No way in hell I'd forget such a cute face like yours, even if I saw it for a split second." He smiled and pinched your nose. If his plan was to drive you insane, he was incredibly effective.

"How come people have such different reports about you? Can you shapeshift?" Trying to lead a conversation with him felt like navigating through a mine field - there were no known limits, no known good or bad questions, or any shared topics you two could talk about. But you'd lie if you said it didn't excite you - waiting for his response, never being able to predict the next word that will come out of his mouth.

He sighed. "If you wore the same pair of pants every day, wouldn't you get tired of it?"

"I suppose..?"

"Well, yeah. It's that. Mix it with hallucinations the brain dials up once it's met with something outside the world it knows, and here's your answer. I'm no sprite or shapeshifter, just a regular guy who made a regrettable deal years ago. I might have the powers of the dead on my side, but at what cost?"

You shrugged. As much as you wanted to quiz him and get him to talk about himself, right now biting your tongue and playing it cool seemed like the best idea. Getting deeply invested in his life might not lead to good places.

"So... you're one of those so-called bookworms, hm? You've been carrying a book inside that bag of yours the entire time, too." You could feel his hand slip from yours, trailing across your arm to your shoulder, then to the other, gripping it softly. His touch felt warm on your skin, very human and real despite what he did for a living.

"...Yeah. In fact, I was just on my way from the library back at the bridge where I met you. I just borrowed it." You smiled shyly, holding the bag tightly in your arms. Knowing his curiosity and boldness, a feeling of panic unfolded in your chest, dreading what he might say next.

"Mind me taking a peek at what you're reading?"

Aaand this was it. The moment you prayed will not happen, but his chin was already resting on your shoulder, trying to get a peek at the contents of the bag.

"H-hey, hey! Back off! That book's my business, after all!" You giggled, holding it tighter and tighter, trying to laugh off your growing anxiety. If there's one person that you wouldn't like knowing about your little self-indulgent hobby, then it was Soul Catcher. But your tightest grip was easily undone by his loosest, and now your book was in his left hand, clumsily open, and the digits of his right were buried in the strands of your hair, holding your head away with careful but great strength. Even with your annoyed and panicked groans and your hands clawing at him, he simply couldn't miss the opportunity to steal a look at a few titles.

"Calm down there, you're acting as if it was a pipe bomb that you were carrying!" He chuckled, trying to stay composed as his body lost balance under your pushes and pulls. Yet your delight was short-lived, as only a second was needed for him to spread the pages open with his thumb and smugly read some of the titles out loud.

"Cinderella, Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty... seems like someone's a sucker for Prince Charming, hm?" He snickered, but gave in to your pleas and dropped the book right into your sack.

"Would it hurt your pride to not dig through others' stuff?" You hissed, patting the bag in relief. "A-and is there something so wrong with indulging in childhood comfort anyway?"

"Oh, not only would it hurt it, it would kill it. Besides, something tells me that this little guilty pleasure of yours goes beyond just childhood comfort", he whistled in his usual self-satisfied tone, yanking at his suspenders, "But hey, who am I to say?"

"Oh, does it?" You gave him a taste of his own medicine, grimacing right at his face, making sure each word rumbled through his skull. "Well, what if I told you that such absurd assumptions are indeed incredibly untasteful, especially when left unelaborated? Just imagine how much of a hit that could be to your fragile ego..."

"¡Dios mío! You couldn't possibly...!" He dramatically threw his head back. At least something was true - he really was an actor behind the scenes. "Oh lord, it truly seems like the only way to make it up for you, your majesty, is to explain myself beneath your ice-cold gaze, like an accused pauper chained and laid before the king!"

Both of you laughed away at your ridiculous actions.

He cleared his throat, after a good minute of dying from laughter. "O-okay, where were we? Ah, yes, your dirty little secret." With his hands crossed behind his back and his gaze innocently directed at the sky, it seemed like this was a touchy subject for him, too. "Well, from all my previous experiences with people, I noticed that a lot of them like to fantasize about, well, a world where everything is just better - usually some kind of unrealistic fairytale utopia. It helps them feel better about their problems, especially during adolescence." His eyes briefly shifted to yours, watching them as if he's waiting for you to point out a fuck-up nested in his wording.

"Alright, continue...?"

"And, uhm, although fairy tales are meant for kids and all and are read by them, these same adolescents use them as a vessel for said utopias, or simply, a medium."

His lips were pressed into a firm line, waiting for your feedback.

"Bravo, jester", you treated him with a teasing smile, ruffling the stray locks of hair peeking out from his hat, "You got yourself out this time."

"Well then, call me Houdini." He smiled back, scratching the back of his neck. "Jeez, even though that fantasy thing should have gotten into my skull for the most part, I still can't fathom what's so special about the Prince Charming trope.. It's so annoying! Are y'all really drooling over the same guy in different fonts?"

"To be fair, it leaves a lot to the imagination. You can interpret him however you like, twist his personality to your liking."

"But that's exactly why it's horribly overused! Dressing every fictional man in a suit of already desired personalities is... boring! No variety, no depth - nothing! Do they really not find real people with actual lives, emotions, thoughts and opinions more appealing?"

It was a bit funny, him getting worked up over this, as if he was deeply insecure about it. You decided to fuel the fire a bit.

"Well, what does your average Prince Charming have that, let's say, I lack?"

"A great personality?"

"Oh, come on. Now you're just being mean." He sighed, traces of laughter in his sigh. "Damn you, muñeca." You chuckled.

"Big muscles?"

"These babies don't look defined to you?" He pouted jokingly, flexing his arm. Shit. Your face warmed up for a bit. For a second, a satisfied grin appeared on his face, liking the reaction he coaxed out of you through your composed armour.

"Strength and brave- AH!" You didn't even get to finish your sentence, and a moment barely passed, but his left arm was already wrapped around your calves, his right under your arm and around your back, his body leaned into yours and suddenly - you were hanging off his shoulder stomach-down, like a potato sack. "Oh my god yo- put me down!"

He whistled, holding you down to supress your squirming. "Strong enough for you, doll?"

"Not fair..." You groaned, lifelessly plopping onto him.

"You didn't answer my question~"

"Yes. Strong enough." It was quite enjoyable up on his shoulder, actually. After the initial panic passed it became nice, the rhythmic bouncing of his walk lulling you to sleep. You could get used to this.

"Now that's music to my ears." He showed no sign of letting go any time soon, perhaps he liked the smell of your perfume on your neck, and your weight resting on top of him, like a thick winter blanket.

"Since you've already decided to pick me up, would you be kind enough to carry me to my house?" You mumbled, your eyelids already feeling heavy. "That house, over there." Pointing at the tall, cobblestone house, you yawned.

"Entiendo, sirenita."

~

"How did you- actually, you know what? Nothing can suprise me anymore. You climbed up my balcony, didn't you?"

The sun was setting, and Soul Catcher was leaning against the railing of your balcony, your bag thrown around his frame.

"Actually I slid off the roof, but you're not that far off, beautiful." Every time your name was replaced - or you were simply called by - a soft pet name coming from his mouth, you felt as if your stomach would explode. Something about the way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, whispering endearments to you like you're the only person remaining in the world along with him. And whenever he read and peered through your façade as your face turned red and your breathing got deeper, he took a step further, engaging in the sensual, mental tango forming around you two. "I forgot to return your bag. Sorry."

"It's alright. I appreciate that you went out of your way for me." Gosh, the way you tortured him! Whenever he was smooth and flirtly and you punched him in the face with your kind, unfiltered smile instead of flirting back, it was like his heart was momentarily shattered into pieces and then bound again. The irresistable two-step of games and suave words was driving him insane and momentarily, in his mind it was your face, and your body, and your voice that called for him and your coldness clashing with his warmth, and it was making him dizzy. Behind his eyes, his brain was melting, and his heart was no different. To fall so quickly for a stranger - well, it's no secret that he's been depraved of actual love and affection beyond one night stands and empty promises to dozens of lovers from different times - was nothing new to him, but this attachment was not the same, it was permanent, stable, and wasn't going away any time soon.

"So, ___..." You turned quickly. When it was just your name and not something snarky on his lips, it seemed more important. "...You got any plans for the evening?"

"Oh- not really. Do you, though?"

"Not a plan, but rather an idea, a proposition, even." His voice was breathier as if he was nervous, coughing up the words from his chest. "If you want to, we could, y'know, watch the sunset together. I'm quite fond of sunsets myself, so I was wondering..."

"So you're proposing a date?" A date. As if he flinched when he heard the word.

"Well, yeah, a date, if you want to call it that." He said as he bit his lip. "Are you up?"

"Why not?" You whispered, creeping slowly towards him. "That sounds like a nice way to spend the evening."

"I'm glad." he smiled. In that little moment all of his confidence returned, and now his voice was clear again and he was back on his feet, jumping on top of the railing like the most skilled of acrobats and making his way to the roof. "You're coming, no?"

"And how exactly do you want me to come?"

"Grab my hand. Come on." His hand hanged from above, pushed as far as possible to reach you. "I'll pull you up."

You gulped. Heights remained a minor fear of yours ever since childhood, and having to face said fear head-first out of nowhere wasn't very appealing. "But what if I fall?"

"Believe me, muñeca, you won't."

"How can you be so sure!?"

He took a deep breath, trying to speak as gently as possible to calm you down.

"Trust me, ___. It's my hand around yours, no one elses, and my strength that's going to pull you up. I'm here for you. Please."

You didn't know when, you didn't know how, but the height suddenly stopped being a problem and, in a flashing moment, you were in his arms, being pulled to the middle of the roof.

~

"The clouds are such a beautiful color today. Light pink, as if they're crowning the sun before the moon rises."

Your back facing him, his chin on your shoulder, his breath on the nape of your neck.

"It's even more beautiful right before it goes down. They turn blood red, melting with the sky."

His arms wrapped around you, your hand around his wrist, your legs thrown over his.

"Do you have to go soon?" You whispered with a heavy heart.

"I should go." He suddenly stopped. "But I don't want to."

"Please. Stay for another moment."

He pulled you closer and closer to him, now his mouth right by your ear.

"Of course. A moment."

And it was more than a moment.

And more than an hour.

And only the crescent moon was the witness, and what it saw was sealed for eternity once the sun rose on the horizon again.

[cerberus-new-owner]

WHOOOOOO week late birthday present to me from me

thank you me

your very welcome me

did i speed write like over half of this like 4 minutes ago (as im editing this and adding the intro on tumblr) yes, yes i did

But anywaysssss onto the cw

CW: like none (i hope), gn mc, mc and the characters relationships can be taken as platonic or romantic, fluffffff

Lucifer

the same pen every year but, its not just him stealing it from mc's room to rewarp it he has a box full of the exact same pens if one of them has a slight defect he will write a letter to the company that made the pens and send the damaged pen with it (mc shouldn't mention the fact that they've gotten the exact same pen from him four years in a row his pride will be hurt and he will just start engraving their name into the pens never know he may eventually switch it up and put a cute little nickname or something on the pen instead of just 'mc'), either that or he listens very closely and pays attention to what mc might need throught the year need a new desk at some point cause satan broke theirs placing a book down consider it bought mc dropped their bag in a puddle and need a new laptop it's theirs. sadly though he will only get them things that are practical hat they say they need so no jewlery or devices you already have that work fine unless mc can come up with a good excuse as to why the latest tech is needed for studying, there is the odd chance he may get them a bottle of demonus thinking 'they seem to like the taste of it even if it doesn't affect them' (doesn't matter what he gets mc the pens will always be given to them as a fun little bonus prize)

Mammon

anything and everything mc has even looked at for more than half a second is now in their room they mentioned a certain idk (whats something a half sane sheep that has to babysit like 9 demons 2 angels and a sorcerer on daily basis look at in a store oh well) mc mentions something they saw the other day that caught their eye his broke ass is looking for the cheapest deal he can find (or most expensive depends on if he has goldie or not) and buying it

Satan

like lucifer mans will think practical things and like himself he thinks books are the most practical things of all of course cats are fairly high on his list of practical things (they are a must have unless you're allergic to them if you're allergic to them im sorry cats cause you pain, then again they cause most people pain tiny little fluffy a holes that i love continuing) he will be bothering mc about their choice in books asking alot of questions along the lines of 'what genre are you most into' 'mc whos your favourite author' 'fiction or non-fiction' all in attempt to figure out what mc likes if mc isn't really into books and is into idk sports or gardening something like that he will search endlessly to find an interesting book to give mc on one of their hobbies and if they don't like the book he can always "borrow" them to learn more about mc's likes and hobbies

Asmodeus

feel like this is a no brainer but some kind of spa day or outfit (wait new headcannon alert what if he knows how to sew and occasionally makes clothes for himself for y'know when theres nothing new in fashion or theres an important event he cant find anything fabulous to wear but occasionally being the keyword he probably uses most of his talent fixing rips in satan shirts from satans outbursts) anyways... he will spend an entire day fawning over mc he will make sure they dont lift a finger god forbid they get a papercut from wrapping paper or worry lines from stressing about how tf they're supposed to sleep when mammons filled their room with gifts

Feel like because of this i should do how they wrap the gifts so this goes for Christmas / any other holidays too so bonusss (this is also who would remember to include a card)

lucifer

plain colour probably in mcs favourite colour no ribbon or anything fancy just plain [insert favourite colour] wrapping paper, he takes pride in wrapping his gifts neatly (he's wrapped the same pen for several years straight he has had practice) he gets a card for mc like the presents wrapping the outside is a plain colour with words relating to whatever celebration it is with either the dryest shit ever written on the inside or the most sappy shit depends on his relationship with mc if its the latter option though we will only give mc the card in private knowing exactly how his brothers would react

mammon

he uses the christmas wrapping paper from two years ago that everyone forgot they had until he called out 'anyone gonna use this wrapping paper i found in the closet' to satan replying 'you know thats christmas wrapping paper right' and mammon taking satan answer as a go ahead to use it, he'd do his best to wrap any gifts he got mc he looks up a tutorial and everything and 100% is proud of his work not matter how messy it looks, if anyone chooses to mention how messily it's wrapped he will say its part of the suspense he will use ribbons and bows to add extra effect

he forgets about aa card entirely

leviathan

ruri-chan wrapping paper wrapped as neatly as possible so the little images line up on every side as perfectly as possible he will spend hours trying to get the folds just right so the images line up nothing fancy like ribbons or bows he'd feel bad if he covered one of the characters so he doesn't bother with it

he panicked about what to write in the card so he gave up deciding that having a marathon with mc was way more important than writing his feelings onto a card

satan

cat wrapping paper or wrapping paper that looks like pages from books he makes any gifts he's wrapped look pretty (just like the pretty boy he is whosaidthat/j) he wraps the gift neatly and puts a little bow on it before writing a heartfelt card and using a little bit of tape to attach it to the wrapped box

asmodeus

picks out the prettiest wrapping paper he can find even if he's just wrapping a card that says "Spa Day!" he is wrapping it neatly with utmost care

he chooses a card based on mc's likes and hobbies of course making sure it's bedazzled and as pretty as possible

beelzebub

two layers of wrapping paper he found one that had images of food on it but halfway through wrapping mc's gift with it he took a bite out of the wrapping paper so he changed wrapping paper to a plain one so he would be somewhat less tempted to eat it

he gets mc a card and starts to write something in it before the writing stops mid word and theres a bunch of crumbs from him eating something forgetting to finish the card and giving it to mc anyways

belphegor

clouds it's very nicely wrapped because he probably went to one of those 'we wrap the presents for you' places and paid them the only part he did himself was the card and he put a tiny bit of effort into it until the writing gets smudged and messy and is that a bit of drool he fell asleep midway through writing oh well guess he better nap with mc to make up for falling asleep

omg what will i do nowwww guess what

boom

double bonus cause i said so

Barbatosss

tea party, tea party, tea party (i like tea) he will invite mc to the castle not only does this mean he gets to celebrate diavolo also gets to celebrate mc's birthday (like diavolo wasn't the one to suggest it, barbatos just anticipated dia asking to invite them over) barbatos will cook mc food from the human realm majority of it being things he heard them say they liked or missed from the human realm occasionally he might throw in a devidom ingredient or two to enhance somethings flavour or to add a fun little surprise (maybe he throws in something to change the colour of their fur for a few minutes who knows) as for the acctual gift part he probably gets mc something small to remind them of him or something practical he's not lucifer when it comes to gifts and may look into the future to see if theres anything mc will need in the near future like maybe their bag is gonna break in the next two weeks and they'll need a new one just so happen barbs gave them a new bag for their birhday the week before perfect

he wraps gifts by himself with a plain wrapping paper of mcs favourite colour and by far out of everyone wraps them the nicest he's lived for a millennia he's had practice wrapping gifts when it comes to writing a card for them he does his best to make it heartfelt and meaningful

soooooo tadaaa i've finished unless people want the others (by people i mean if i were in theory to gain motivation to write for the rest of the characters)

i hope people enjoyed this have a good day, night, brunch, apple, pen (pineapple apple pen)

follow the leader, the leader, the leader, follow the leader right to the masterlist

dangnabit his means im old now too

[my-unorthodox-life]

Pics of the Chanukah treat trays I made

recipes under the cut for anyone curious!!!

🫶🫶🫶

Matzah Turtle Bark

Ingredients:

sweetened condensed milk

butter

unsalted matzah

semi sweet chocolate chips

butterscotch chips

pecans

Heat oven to 250 F (120 C) while you prep the caramel.

In a saucepan melt and brown 2-4 tablespoons of butter. Once browned, add in sweetened condensed milk on low heat until reduced and thickened. This is where you can add more butter or flavor to the caramel (I like adding a bit of vanilla, salt, and Canadian maple syrup) Continue to cook carmel down until desired consistency and color.

Once your caramel is ready line a baking tray with parchment paper and lay your matzah down. I use 6 squares but using less just means your caramel layer will be thicker. Spread the caramel over the matzah and sprinkle on pecans, semisweet chips, and butterscotch chips. Place in oven until chips start to melt and look glossy.

Once you remove your bark use a spatula to spread the chips over the top to coat the pecans and caramel. If you feel fancy melt some colored decorative chocolate to drizzle on top and add dusting sugar (blue and gold are my favorites!)

Set aside to cool and break into pieces and serve!

Cake mix cookies two ways

Ingredients:

2 boxes of cake mix, any flavor

8oz cream cheese

1 cup of butter softened

2 large eggs

Colored dusting sugar

Chocolate coins

Heat oven to 350 F (176 C) while you mix your doughs.

In a large mixing bowl cream 8oz of cream cheese, 1/2 cup softened butter and 1 egg. If desired add 1-2 teaspoons of vanilla. Fold in 1 box of cake mix, for this batch I use an almond or white cake mix. Set dough aside to chill.

While the first dough chills, mix the remaining 1/2 cup of butter, egg, and box mix. For this batch I like butter or yellow cake, but chocolate works lovely too. Place this dough in the fridge as well.

For the cream cheese cookies, take a small scoop of dough and roll into balls, toss in colored dusting sugar and place on baking tray. Bake for 10-14 minutes depending on your oven, until the underside is brown and the tops look cooked but soft. Place cookies on wire rack to cool.

For the butter cookies, take small scoops, round into balls, before flattening them slightly. Bake for 9-13 minutes depending on your oven until the underside is brown. Once baked fully let them cool on the baking tray for a few minutes before pressing gelt into the tops of them. I make mine with dark chocolate and a silicone mold, but store bought works just as well. Remove from baking sheet and place on wire rack to cool.

Butterscotch "Latkes"

Ingredients:

Butterscotch chips

UTZ Potato chip shreds

This is by far THE EASIEST one of my holiday treats. Just melt 1 bag of butterscotch chips in a double boiler until smooth, fold in UTZ potato shreds until it's your desired texture and ratio. Plop the mixture into piles on a lined baking tray 1 tablespoon at a time and flatted out slightly. Let chill till solid and you're done!

Caramel Pretzel Bites

Ingredients:

Square butter snap pretzels

Rolos (or any caramel chocolate candy)

M&Ms

Another easy one to wrap everything up. Just place pretzel squares on a baking sheet and top with your caramel chocolates, place in oven. I usually do this treat last after all my baking when the oven is still warm but the same 250 F (120 C) used for the bark works well. I don't have an exact time for these guys, just let them get a little soft and glossy. Once they're at this stage, remove from the oven, and place M&Ms on top and press in slightly. I like to get the blue and white ones from the party store or just sort out the colors myself. Let cool and you're done!!

[pablitogavii]

Doctora Pt. 2

Since many reached out to say they want a mini series, here it comes!

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Part 1 is HERE! <3

Pablo's POV

I couldn't stop thinking about that kiss and how her chapstick tasted like fresh strawberries on my tongue...fuck! I really wanted to kiss her again!

"¿Hola? Mundo a Pablo! You can pick your results after training" Xavi said and all I could think about was seeing her again not really knowing how to say that I want her to be mine.

"Gracias" I said and he smiled nodding approvingly as other guys joined us on the pitch.

"I can't believe we haven't heard you screaming from the changing rooms while getting your blood drawn" Pedri mocked me and I rolled my eyes still thinking about strategy for when I see her again. Should I play dumb and see what she does? But don't girls like confidence? Ugh! Es tan complicado!

"Ai! Ansu? Can I ask you something??" after training I seek some advice from one of my best friends still not deciding how I should act when I see her again. I haven't told him who I was talking about knowing that everyone on camp knows her but I presented him with a hypothetical scenario.

"Hermano, girls like to feel like they belong to a man who will pursue them tirelessly..so be possessive" were Ansu's exact words and I repeated them while walking towards the clinic.

When I came in and saw he laughing with one of the younger players while getting his blood drawn..I felt..jealous? Was she distracting him the same way she did with me!? Fuck! She can't do that with anybody else!

I came in with all my confidence on display as she turned around to safe me with that beautiful smile on her face. How can someone look so sexy in scrubs!? Focus cabrón!

"Hola nena" I said winking at her which certainly made the younger player angry but I didn't give a shit! He should know she is off limits and he has no chance against me!

"I will be right with you, let me just finish here first" she said which made the younger boy smirk this time and my jaw clenched as I sat down to wait for her to give me attention that I wanted right the fuck now!

Your POV

Pablo was angry, that much was clear from his demeanor when I came to give him his results. I was so nervous to look at him after the kiss we shared which I have to admit kept me craving for more.

He stood up after taking the paper walking towards the door and just when I expected him to leave without a word (probably forgetting about the kiss anyways), he locked the door walking back towards me.

He placed his paper on the table before going around to stand in fornt of me making me walk backwards until my back was glued to the wall and he was hovering over me dominantly.

"Um..what..are you doing Gavi?" I said with a shaken up voice which surely amused him as his smirk grew while his fingers raised up my chin like last time.

I closed my eyes expecting him to kiss me again (excited about it ofc!!) but just as our lips were inches from each other he spoke lowly.

"Did you miss me doctora??" he said and I opened my eyes blushing like crazy when I realized how close our faces were to each other.

"And..why..why would I miss you Gavi?" I said trying my best to be confident but his power was undeniable..he was making me nervous on purpose!

"Well..maybe because watching me in a sweaty uniform does things to you? Or maybe because you let me have a taste of those sweet lips of yours doctora?" Pablo was enjoying himself and I was a blushing mess staring from his eyes to his lips wondering if he craved to kiss me just as much as I craved to taste him again?

"Tell me something, preciosa..do you use the same distraction on other players too? Maybe ones from La Masia?" he said and I knew now why he was so angry before. Pablo Gavi was jealous! He was jealous after seeing me with that kid from La Masia. Now was my turn to make him nervous!

"So what if I do? I'm a free woman after all..." I smirked shocked when his hand wrapped around my throat and his lips came so close to mine that they touched as he spoke.

"Wanna try that again nena? You can only distract me like that!" he growled now completely ruining my panties while staring at my lips before kissing me again but this time with more force..like his life depended on it..and I loved every second of it!

We kept kissing one another for a few minutes like it was the most natural thing in the world before I realized that I needed to pull away and make him deserve me first!

"I should go back to work Gavi.." I said knowing that if he stayed here any longer..all hell would break loose probably ending in his suspension and me getting fired!

"Tu me vuelves loco nena.." he said resting his forehead again mine and I felt my heart speeding up as he leaned down and kissed me one last time before pulling away.

"I'm gonna need this. See you soon doctora" Pablo grabbed one of your visit cards with your phone number before leaving and making you finally breathe heavily trying to wrap your mind about what just happened.

Pablo's POV

As more days passed, and we spend nights face timing each other I got so hooked that seeing her face became a mandatory part of my day. We also agreed to be 'friends' whatever the hell that meant but I was letting it go slow for now not knowing how long I'll be able to resist kissing her again!

Also, my results showed that I will need to do some physical therapy but overall everything seems to be alright. I never felt happier to be told I will have to spend so much time at the clinic.

"So you know how you said last night that you couldn't wait for the new season to come out??" I said while she was applying some cold jelly on my thigh before my physical therapy. She looked so beautiful when she was focusing on a task like this!

"Mhm?" he said and I did my best not to get hard from feeling her hand on my inner thigh but it was getting quite hard to be honest. But these little sessions definitely made me crave her touch so damn much!

"I know a guy who sent it to me before it gets released. What do you say we watch it together tonight at my apartment?" I said seeing her eyes open wide as she comprehended the words leaving my mouth.

"No freaking way! The next season is coming out in almost two weeks!" she said and I smirked nodding my head knowing that I made an impossible bargain that she won't be able to refuse. Or I hoped she wouldn't refuse.

"I'm Pablo Gavi" I said proudly and she rolled her eyes making me groan in annoyance. She was definitely different..

"But if I do this..promise not to take me to your bed Gavi??" she said and I smirked making her chuckle before doing a pinky promise before she finally agreed. I was so excited but I acted cool while she was there.

I was manically cleaning my apartment when I returned from trianing waiting impatiently for her to call and tell me she is in front of the gates. Time never passed slower!

"Come in doctora!" I said escorting her inside as she took off her jacket making my mind go crazy at the sight of her in grey sweats and a tank top..this was the first time I saw her wearing no scrubs.

"What!? I didn't know there was a dress code. I kinda look homeless " she said making me laugh as we both walked to the living room.

"You look perfect.." words just slipped past my lips before I could stop them and she smiled sitting on the couch comfortably.

Your POV

I couldn't believe I was currently sitting next to Pablo Gavi in his apartment watching one of my favorite TV shows. Despite not showing it to him, I knew what a 'lady man' the boy was and was definitely a little star struck that he was pursuing me.

He kept his apartment pretty cold so my arms quickly filled with goosebumps which he noticed jogging to his room in the middle of an episode. He came back with his big Barca hoodie and my heart stared speeding up immediately.

"Gracias Pablo.." I used his name for the first time and it felt right especially seeing how he smiled when he heard it. I wore his hoodie which he definitely recently wore since it smelled so strong of his cologne as we continued to binge the episodes.

"I should probably head home..it's almost midnight!" I said completely loosing track of time not to mention that I was so sleepy that I had to lay my head on Pablo's shoulder to keep watching the end of the episode.

"But there are two more episodes..don't you wanna know how it ends??" he quickly replied and I really did want to see the ending but also not sure how I am going to drive back home at three in the morning.

"Are you sure??" I asked and he nodded smiling wide in reassurance.

"Tomorrow is day off so I can sleep in. No worries!" he said and I nodded as another episode began.

I didn't even notice when I fell asleep only waking up when he raised me up from the couch carrying me upstairs bridal style.

"Um..what's happening?" I said followed by a loud yawn that made me blush as he chuckled entering his bedroom..it was huge, with a king sized bed and his jersey on the wall.

"I'm taking you to my bed" he said and you felt your heart speeding up while your eyes were staring into his deeply.

"You promised.." I reminded him and he smiled kissing my forehead before laying me down in comfortable sheets that smelled like Pablo...I felt safe.

"I'm not letting you drive sleepy but don't worry, I will sleep on the floor if you need anything" he said tucking me in and I blushed smiling wide at his kind gesture.

It was the middle of the night when I woke up from how cold I was since Pablo took off my hoodie thinking I will be too warm under the blankets. Boy kept his room so cold, I felt like I was in Canada!

I stole glance at him sleeping on the floor fearfully getting up and laying down next to him getting insanely close immediately feeling warmer.

"Mm what a nice surprise doctora..." Pablo mumbled being cocky even when he just woke up and I rolled my eyes nuzzling my cold nose further into his neck.

"I'm cold!" I whine and he smirks wrapping his arms around my body before pulling me on top of him and rubbing my skin as I felt much warmer and started to again drift to sleep.

Hope you like it :)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

December Writing Challenge: Day 2

This one's a little late! In my defense, I was studying for an exam earlier and struggling with formatting on ao3, but it works now!

Full story below the cut! (Fonts aren't right, unfortunately.)

It’s not like Frisk hasn’t come across this exact scenario before - Papyrus, pressed up against the wall, frozen in the act of sneaking around the house. Usually he wasn’t even doing anything particularly sneaky; just training his skills as an ex-soon-to-be-but-never-will-now-because-they-disbanded royal guard… allegedly, as Undyne swore that she never taught him to do this and has no idea where he learned it from.

(Sans placed his bets on the hat man. Undyne doubted the veracity of the hat man’s existence. Toriel placed her bets on the hat man as well. Undyne furiously listed several reasons why there is no way that the hat man taught Papyrus how to sneak, not least of which because Papyrus was always caught and she had never seen nor heard of this mystery hat man. Sans pointed out that’s why Papyrus was still in training, and besides, he’d said, grinning, you can’t know if you’ve caught him every time if a successful sneak necessarily means that he wasn’t caught. Only the hat man could know the truth. Alphys sheepishly also placed her bets on the hat man. A dog got involved. As did fire, somehow. Undyne broke a pool table in half. Anyways.)

The point was, Papyrus pressing himself against a wall and doing his best impression of a startled marmot was nothing unusual, and ordinarily, Frisk would walk right by and pretend they didn’t see him.

But Papyrus had a paper bag in his arms, and a bag with something inside it that Frisk didn’t know about was something Frisk could not resist.

“Whatcha got, Papyrus?”

The skeleton sweat a little nervously, eyes darting from side-to-side.

“I AM NOT PAPYRUS! I AM, AH, SIMPLY HIS VERY COOL AND HANDSOME LOOK-ALIKE!!! NOT AS COOL AS HE, OF COURSE! BUT YES! NO RELATION AT ALL!!”

“You numbskull,” Flowey muttered from where he was wrapped around Frisk’s arm, playing on their game console. Frisk jostled him, making him miss his last jump.

“Don’t be mean.”

The game over screen flashed. Flowey hissed at them.

“Um…” Frisk eyed the bag as Papyrus continued to look all around the room like he was about to make a mad dash getaway.

“Um… Mr. Not-Papyrus?”

“HM? AH, YES!!”

“Um, uh, what’s in the bag?”

“W-WHAT BAG?”

“That bag,” said Frisk, pointing.

“OH!!! THAT BAG! YES!! …IT’S A SECRET!!!”

“Aw,” Frisk mumbled, downcast and pouting.

Papyrus immediately started sweating more, looking very conflicted.

“HM… WELL…”

He crouched down in front of Frisk and whispered to them conspiratorially.

“…I COULD USE AN ACCOMPLICE!”

“Really?” they asked, brightening.

“BUT!!!” he put one gloved finger up. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL ONLY SHARE THIS SECRET IF YOU, HUMAN FRISK, SWEAR TO KEEP IT!”

“Oh, are you Papyrus again?”

“ERM. YES.”

“That’s good,” Frisk said, reaching out for the bag. “I like Papyrus. He’s cooler.”

“FRISK…!!! WELL, OF COURSE, I AM THE COOLEST, BUT!!! MY COOL FRIEND LIKES ME BETTER THAN SLIGHTLY LESS COOL AND HANDSOME NOT-PAPYRUS…!” he looked a little teary.

Frisk nodded, but their attention was mainly focused on controlling their grabby hands, inches away from the mystery items in the bag.

Papyrus made to hold it out then paused.

“YOU DIDN’T ANSWER BEFORE! YOU SWEAR NOT TO TELL?”

“I swear!”

“I don’t.”

“OH! FLOWEY!!! I DID NOT KNOW YOU WERE LISTENING!”

“I… I’m right here,” Flowey said, outraged. “How could I not?”

“WELL, I SUPPOSE IT IS HARD NOT TO HAVE YOUR INTEREST PIQUED BY SUCH A MYSTERY…”

“I’m not interested!” Flowey protested. “I just happen to be right here and have-”

Flowey cut himself off, as he abruptly realized he did not, in fact, have ears, and thus, his point was moot.

Frisk’s grabby hands won out, and they tugged a bit at Papyrus’ scarf.

“OH!!! RIGHT! AHEM!!! DRUMROLL, PLEASE!”

Frisk rolled a beat on their knees.

“BEHOLD!!!”

Papyrus opened the bag with a flourish. Frisk peered inside.

Cooking supplies? No, baking! And… was that…?

“Butterscotch!” they exclaimed delightedly. “You’re making mom’s pie recipe?”

“INDEED! I AM MAKING IT FOR TORIEL HERSELF!”

“Oh, she’ll like that!”

“I AM ALREADY A MAGNIFICENT CHEF! AND SINCE I HAVE MASTERED THE ART OF SPAGHETTI-MAKING, BAKING WILL BE A PIECE OF CAKE!!”

“Mm-hm!”

“AND!!! ONCE I HAVE THOROUGHLY IMPRESSED HER WITH MY BAKING EXPERTISE, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL BE APPOINTED OFFICIAL GUARD OF THE KITCHEN!!!”

“Yes!”

“Oh, goody,” Flowey muttered snarkily, detaching from Frisk and vine-crawling along the floor away from them, still engrossed in his platformer. “I’m sure there’s no way this could go wrong.”

Papyrus hefted the bag and Frisk into his arms.

“OF COURSE NOT! WE’VE GOT THIS… IN THE BAG!!! NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

“Hehehe!”

“Ugh,” Flowey groaned. “I’m going outside.”

“OKAY!!! HAVE FUN, FLOWEY!”

Papyrus turned and headed for the kitchen. Frisk positioned themself so they could wave goodbye to Flowey from over his shoulder.

“See you later, Flowey! Watch out for birds!”

“What…?” he turned, looking baffled. “Why would I need to watch out for birds?”

“Sans said that because you’re so tiny it means that birds can pick you up and fly away with you.”

“Oh, did he now…” Flowey said, gritting his teeth. “Well, tell that smiley trashbag that - actually, never mind! Don’t tell him anything!”

While Papyrus baked in the kitchen, Frisk watched and waited.

Their task - their very important task?

Guard duty.

This was not something Frisk took lightly, to be assigned such an important duty by such an accomplished former almost-guard. They watched the hallway like a hawk for anyone who might intrude and spoil the surprise for their mom.

The sound of the front door! Frisk tensed.

“Hey, Papyrus!!! You in here?”

Undyne. Fearless former captain of the royal guard. They weren’t feeling particularly good about their odds of stalling her here, but she was getting closer, and Frisk was a trusted accomplice, after all.

Frisk shot out in front of Undyne, spreading out their arms to block her path.

“Uh, hey, Frisk. What’s up?”

They hadn’t thought this far.

“You shall not pass!”

“I… shan’t?”

Frisk shook their head firmly.

Undyne seemed a mixture of both taken aback and confused, before a dangerous glint appeared in her eye.

“Ohh, I get it! You want to WRESTLE!!!”

Frisk really did not want to wrestle. But Papyrus’ baking surprise was on the line here.

They took one determined step forwards.

“Oh?” said Undyne, cracking her knuckles. “You’re approaching me?!”

“I can’t wrestle you without getting closer.”

“Oh-ho! Then come as close as you like!!!” Undyne grinned, her eye and sharp teeth glinting. “NGAAAAHHHH!!!”

“Hyaahhhhh!!!”

“Excuse me.”

Undyne and Frisk froze mid-lunge to find Toriel standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Sans stood next to her, clearly amused.

Undyne coughed and relaxed from her wrestling stance.

“Ha, uh, sorry, Toriel… got a little… carried away.”

“Oh, it’s alright. Just don’t do it again. Frisk is much too small for that kind of roughhousing.”

She gulped.

“Yes. Sorry.”

Toriel nodded, then turned to Frisk with a smile. She opened her mouth to say something… and suddenly Frisk remembered.

Toriel! In the hallway!

“Code fluff! Code fluff!” they shouted.

Toriel blinked.

“Fluff…?” Undyne muttered.

“AHHHHHH!!!”

The sound of crashing pots and pans and silverware echoed from the kitchen, which was odd, as absolutely none of those items should have been involved with Papyrus’ current activity.

“WHOOPSIE-DOOPSIE! JUST A SMALL KERFUFFLE! NOTHING TO SEE HERE!!!” said Papyrus, sliding out of the kitchen in a way that was not at all suspicious.

“That was a bit suspicious,” Undyne muttered.

“NOT AT ALL! I WAS JUST… CLEANING!!!”

“Uh-huh. What are you up to, Papyrus?” she asked, poking him in the chest.

“I… UH…!”

“eh, it’s cool, pap, you don’t hafta tell us,” Sans shrugged, strolling up from… the kitchen. Frisk blinked.

“OH. THANK YOU, SANS!”

“we’re just not on a knead-to-know basis, i guess.”

“YES, THANK YOU, SANS…” Papyrus muttered through gritted teeth.

Toriel glanced at Sans curiously, clearly picking up the intonation of a joke but still oblivious as to its source.

“What?!” Undyne scowled. “Why not?”

“NO! WAIT! THERE IS NO KNEAD-TO-KNOW - ARGH! NEED-TO-KNOW BASIS!!! THERE IS NOTHING TO KNOW!!! EXCEPT A SPARKLY CLEAN KITCHEN!!!”

“Okay, I know you’re lying, Papyrus.”

“yeah, that was a little half-baked.”

“SANS.”

“Tell us!”

“NO!”

“bro, we’re pie-ning for a hint here.”

“NO!!”

“Do I need to noogie you again?! Do I need to noogie the skeleton?!”

“NO!!! NO YOU DO NOT!!!”

“c’mon, i just want a piece of the pie.”

“THAT’S NOT EVEN A PUN! THAT’S JUST LITERALLY WHAT YOU WANT!!!”

Toriel’s face lit up suddenly as it clicked.

“Papyrus!” she gasped, sounding very touched. “Were you trying out my pie recipe?”

“…ah. whoops.”

“…NYOOOO HOO HOO!!!” Papyrus wailed, collapsing to the ground dramatically. “THE SURPRISE IS RUINED!!!”

Frisk wisely chose to back away slowly from the erupting chaos. Flowey, his vines securing him to the door frame, peeked in and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Mission failed,” Frisk mumbled to him.

“…you don’t say.”