#I got some new markets the other day hehe

[rottenlittlefink]

Ponie

[gothcsz]

Dangerous Woman | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~9k wc | Part 2 of the Fantasize series | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Javier does something that warrants a second visit.

Tags: stalking, lots of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (we're taking it raw), some plot snuck into the porn (sorry not sorry), spanking, light slapping, slight breeding kink..., some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, reader speaks spanish, we're altering canon timeline just a bit, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: primas (gn), we're back to being delusional! thanks so so so much for all the lovin the boy is mine got like i'm on my knees for each and every one of u fr 🧎🏽‍♀️ hehe i do plan on posting a final part to wrap this up btw. love the dynamic between these two 🖤 did javi match your freak?! did he match your nasty?!

DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika

You quit going to his apartment entirely. He expects you to meet him there again, and while the urge to return and take things all the way is enticing as hell; you keep yourself from doing so.

Well, technically, you did go by one time and that visit was the reason why you swore the rest of them off.

You watched from the front seat of your car, further down on the other side of the street, as he rested his forearms against the railing; a lit cigarette between his lips while he stared off into the distance.

Your handsome man who somehow looked sexier under distress. Even from how far away you were you could see those defined, prominent wrinkles between his brows.

He was waiting for you. Looking out into the city and wishing that you were prancing your way back to him.

You wondered then if that was a new ritual of his. If he stood out on his balcony every night in hopes of seeing you again. It made your heart soar and goosebumps to erupt along your skin. 

But you want to drive him crazy with your absence, to have him question if what happened that night in his bedroom was as real as it felt. Gaslighting himself into believing it was all just a dream, something his conscience had made up to relieve him temporarily of the hardships of his job.

Part of the sick enjoyment you get comes from your cat and mouse game, with you being the gamemaster. The one who sets the rules and decides when plays are allowed to be made.

You want him to be vigilant, to shine a light against every shadow that crosses his path in hopes that it’s you, the sexy little thing that’s been preying on him for longer than he knows. 

You want to edge him with the anticipation of your next move.

This move won’t happen until further down the line. Things have been tense in the circumstances that overlap both of your careers. Government distrust grows more and more by the day, the drug traffickers get richer by the second.

You just haven’t had the time to follow him as thoroughly as you have been.

Which is why you sunk your claws into someone in his inner circle, a Neil Stoddard that works directly beneath your agent. It had taken you a few tries, causally bumping into him at the market or during a morning jog, until enough rapport was built and you finally convinced him to feed you information on DEA operations.

He was hesitant at first, but you’ve been told that you can be very persuasive; always knowing exactly what to say, which cadence to use and how to shift your body language to match the conversation. Showcasing your skill, you manage to get just about every little detail that you can from the younger agent before anyone else.

It benefits you both in your career and in your efforts to keep tabs on him.

You wonder if he thinks about you in the same way you do him. Does he constantly replay that rainy night in his head? Does he fuck his fist and close his eyes to think of you, the mysterious woman who broke into his apartment just to get on her knees for him? Swallowed his soul in its entirety and then disappeared off into the night?

Fuck, you hope so, because with each day that passes–– you fall deeper in love with Javier Peña.

You’re walking home from work one day, an extra pep in your step at the good news that one of your projects from graduate school is being looked at by some big name publishers back stateside. The excitement of getting your work published by a well known and reputable paper further inflates your ego and the passion that you have for your career.

So you decide to buy something nice for yourself, a materialized pat on the back for being so good at what you do. You enter a quaint antique store that’s nestled in the small plaza a few blocks from your apartment building, eyeing some of the merchandise they have on display.

You’re contemplating whether you want to purchase a set of stained glass table lamps when a distinct glint catches your attention from the corner of your eye.

You turn to see a beautiful engagement ring on display behind the glass counter, its shimmer immediately drawing you to it. You set the lamps down carefully, walking over to the counter to get a better look at the piece of jewelry.

The ring’s silver band is elegantly slender. Intricate filigree work adorns the outer surface with delicate patterns of vines and tiny flowers that spiral gracefully around it. 

At the center sits a stunning marquise cut diamond, its facets catching the light in a soft, romantic sparkle.

You stare at it in awe, imagining it around your finger after he slips it on, still on one knee, while those captivating brown eyes of his stare up at you in nothing but pure love and adoration.

His fiancée. His wife.

Calling the attendant over, she happily lets you try it on incase it needs to be resized.

It doesn’t. It fits just right, making your hand look very lovely. You wriggle your fingers, giggling as it catches the light.

You purchase it, obviously, having her place it in a small, velvety box that you slide into your bag as you thank her for her help; leaving the shop just to walk a few stores down to where they sell lingerie.

There, you buy a new outfit–– this one much more risque than the leather dress that’s neatly tucked away in your closet.

With a small dent in your account, your career on the path of blossoming, and your delusions for him reaching another peak; you go home and plan your next move.

Stoddard tells you about the raid planned to capture Miguel Rodríguez and the fake out involved, since the last time they had targeted him–– bureaucratic bullshit had gotten in the way and prevented the arrest. Something involving the man hiding in the walls and a DEA agent using a sledgehammer to get him out.

Apparently there’s a mole within the Colombian government that’s making it hard to bring the narcos to justice. What’s new? Amidst all this, he mentions how the boss is going to stay behind while everyone else in the department travels to Cali.

This bit of information piques your interest but you keep your reaction neutral. The velvet box in your bag is burning a hole through the leather, reminding you of its existence. You haven’t worn the ring since you tried it on, saving it for the perfect moment.

Like the one that’s just manifested itself.

You get the details of this operation, specifically paying attention to the times so you know at what pace you’ll have to work with.

If your calculations are correct, he’d be all alone in the office well into the night.

You’re an adrenaline junky, clearly, since the idea of sneaking into a government building just to seek pleasure from the DEA attaché has your entire body crackling with electricity.

You thank him as you go your separate ways. The raid is in two days, which will give you more than enough time to get prepared.

Getting ready mellows you out entirely, the only nerves you feel are those of excitement at the prospect of seeing your agent tonight. You’re currently in the bath, your favorite candle lit and on your second glass of wine.

It’d be a massive win for him if they’re able to follow through with the plan. Two of the head honchos in cuffs and behind bars, even if it was the lax walls of a Colombian prison.

Surely it warrants some kind of reward. You did tell him that he’d see you again whenever he did something that was worth your presence. Worth your body.

It could have come sooner, but between the disappearance of Guillermo Pallomari, Christina Jurado’s kidnapping and then Franklin Jurado’s death; fate had other plans.

He just couldn’t catch a break. For his sake, you hope they’re able to get that motherfucker tonight.

Finishing up in the bath, your skin is smooth like the delicate petals of a flower and you smell like a candy shop, all hydrated and plump and ready to be ravaged.

You go through the motions of doing your hair and makeup, this time aiming for a bolder look.

Sharp cat eye liner, classic red lip, thick lashes. You want to mimic the sultry models you see in the high-end magazines.

Dolling yourself up for him is part of your foreplay. You enjoy watching your own transformation, going from a steadfast journalist to a seductive minx at the wave of a makeup brush.

Would he find you attractive? Not your feline alter ego but the real you. The one that camps out in her car more often than not to stalk him, fast food wrappers littering the seats. The woman who broke into his apartment and masturbated using his pillows. The woman using his subordinate to get information about him and his highly classified work operations.

Would the illusion break after so many encounters? Would the allure of your salacious activities dim until that fire is completely smothered with the reality of what you’ve been doing?

Would he even want you if he knew the truth?

You stare at your reflection in the vanity mirror, not even realizing your eyes have glazed over with tears at these thoughts. Your heart aches at the nonexistent rejection.

No, snap out of it. Now is not the time to be thinking of this shit.

Shaking your head, you swiftly get your act together and change into your outfit for the night.

The lingerie set is the epitome of classic elegance with a sexy edge. It consists of a bra, panties, and a garter belt, each piece meticulously designed to celebrate your natural curves and skin tone.

The bra is a balconette style, the cups a luxurious black lace with intricate floral patterns, sheer enough to tease yet opaque enough to leave some things to the imagination. The underwire provides a gentle lift, enhancing the shape of your breasts, while the straps, adorned with tiny satin bows, add a touch of femininity.

The matching panties are a cheeky bikini cut. The front panel is made from the same black lace as the bra, with a subtle scalloped edge that sits gently against your hips. The back is a sheer mesh, offering a tantalizing glimpse of skin with a small satin bow at the waistband. Your ass looks so good.

The garter belt is the pièce de résistance, tying the entire set together. It sits high on your waist, cinching in to create an hourglass silhouette. Four straps extend down, each finished with satin ribbon accents to hold up your thigh-high stockings securely.

You add the accessories: diamond earrings gifted to you by your grandmother, your simple black stilettos and finally–– the ring you purchased at the antique store.

Now in front of a full length mirror, you can’t help but run your hands all over your body. Fuck looking like the high end models from Vogue–– you resemble a god damn Playboy star; sexy enough to warrant your very own centerfold in the magazine.

Maybe you should invest in some bunny ears. Try and be a conejita for one night.

This is what you’d wear on your wedding night, you think, eyes not leaving your reflection as the ring twinkles beneath your bedroom lights. You wouldn’t even wear it in white, the black lace an homage to the erotic start of your relationship with the DEA agent. Your husband.

Your cat mask sits on the bed, right next to your polaroid camera. After you finish eye fucking yourself, you crawl onto the matress and slip it on; obscuring your face in the sexiest way possible.

With all the fuckery he’s had to deal with as of late, you decided you were going to leave some souvenirs behind. A few visuals for him to look at during lonely nights instead of lolling around on his balcony like a neglected puppy.

You begin taking the photos, contorting your body into different erotic positions, getting the best angles. It all comes to you naturally, you’re good behind and in front of the camera.

After a dozen or so snaps of your tits, your ass, your thighs and some cheeky ones of your pretty cunt, you let them develop and take the mask off, putting on a basic satin slip dress to hide your lingerie. 

You were going to be out in a more public space, you didn’t want to risk something happening and for that to leave you basically naked in the streets of Bogotá.

Tossing your belongings into your bag, you drive to the embassy, parking around the back to keep your vehicle hidden from any prying eyes. How ironic. 

The familiar trench coat sits on your shoulders, tied close to keep your naughty outfit out of sight. Your bag hangs from the curve of the inside of your elbow, the kitten mask nestled at the bottom, just waiting for you to don it once more.

In this moment, you feel like one of those cliché romance tropes: surprising your husband at work with skimpy clothes under a fucking coat.

You snort at the realization, but you’re kind of loving this.

When you push open the door to the building, you notice how quiet and empty it is. At the large front desk, an older officer straightens his posture at your entrance.

“Identificación, por favor.”

You bite your lip, praying to god that this works, and dig into your bag to pull out your press lanyard. It has your name on it, what paper you work for along with a photograph that was taken your first day on the job.

You hand it over and he eyes it then you suspiciously, taking in your done up appearance.

“I’ve got some photographs developing in the lab here. Lost track of time at the office which is why I’m stopping by so late. I’ll just be in and out, no worries.” You explain in English with a gentle lilt, hoping that your status as an American will sway him into letting you up.

He hands you back your lanyard. “I’m not supposed to let anyone who isn't employed here in after a certain time. Lo siento, señorita. Regresa mañana.”

Your eye twitches in annoyance at the denial, your skin prickling with frustration.

You have to see him tonight. No matter what. This senile idiot isn’t going to stop you.

“I didn’t want to do this…” You begin with a sigh, leaning forward against the desk and your coat opens up just enough for him to get a good look down your cleavage, “But I’m also here to visit my fiancé, mi prometido.” You bring your left hand up for him to see the ring that adorns your finger, “He’s been having some tough days and I wanted to surprise him. I’m sure you know him. Javier Peña.”

Now this gets his attention, snapping his gaze from ogling your cleavage to meet your eyes.

“Ah, si, Javier Peña. El jefe de la DEA.”

You nod, seeing his resolve dissipating, and he lazily waves his hand, signaling that you’re good to go up.

“Muchas gracias señor, que tenga buena noche.”

Fuck. Yes. Your nerves morph into excitement as you step into the elevator, hitting the button that goes to his floor.

Pretending to be his to a complete stranger has put you further into a mood, feeling your pulse quickening at the idea of doing it again. Of deceiving the world, warping reality to play into your delusions of being happily engaged to a man who doesn’t even know what you look like.

The elevator comes to a stop, the silver doors opening up to a narrow hallway with various rooms and offices on either side. If you recall correctly, his is further down the hall which is perfect because you need to set your belongings down before making your grand entrance.

You find a place for your things behind the stairwell door, knowing that’s how you’re going to make your escape tonight. You didn’t want to walk past the security guard again and you didn’t want to give him enough time to chase you down into the elevator.

You strip the satin dress, stuffing it into your bag and leaving you just in your undergarments. The polaroids you took are nestled into an envelope and put into the pocket of your trench coat once you have it back on, pulling out your mask and gently bringing it over your face. You apply one final stroke of red lipstick and slip the mesh gloves over your fingers before sneaking your way down the hall.

You press your back against the wall, the tap of your heels muted due to the carpeted floor. Fluttering your eyes close, you force your brain to focus on sound— trying to discern if he is here alone or if he has company.

After a few minutes of listening, you come to the conclusion that he is alone so you just barely poke your head around the corner, eyes scanning the dark room.

It looks like a typical office. Desks sprawled about, a bigger one at the front which you assume to be the secretary’s. The usual fluorescents are dimmed, bathing the room in a transparent darkness.

Across the space is his personal office. It looks like a giant fishbowl at the end of the room, giant windows lining every wall. The blinds are open, giving you a good view of him sitting at the edge of his desk, the phone pressed up to his ear while his large hand nurses a glass of his favorite amber liquor, the familiar cigarette hanging from pointer and middle finger.

You hum diligently. How is he always so fucking handsome?

With catlike suaveness, you move across the room and closer to his office, noticing that the door is ajar, giving you the opportunity to listen in on the call.

Your eyes flit up to the analog clock that hangs on the opposite wall. They’re about to move in on Miguel. 

The tension of this moment, the pure suspense does nothing but aid you and your sexual desires. Whatever news he gets, whether it’s good or bad, you’ll be here to console him… with open arms, and open legs, and an open mouth.

Now that you’re closer, you get a better look at him in his typical work outfit. Rolled up white button up, midnight blue slacks and a loose tie. You wonder if he took off the jacket recently or if he’s been walking around like this for a few hours.

Small details like that matter to you. 

You can’t make out the garbling coming from the phone, but you do see the way he exhales and how his shoulders drop. He closes his eyes letting his wispy lashes fan across his skin. Tension rolls off his body in pure relief as he hears that Miguel Rodríguez has finally been arrested and Salcedo was able to get his family safe. 

He returns the phone to the receiver after a few moments, his thick fingers dragging along the plastic and the simple action has a puddle gathering in your panties.

Standing, he makes his way to the large window that overlooks the downtown area of the capitol, the bustling nightlife illuminating the black night sky.

His back is to you, much like the first time you did this dance, smoke from his cigarette curling around him as he takes lengthy drags in self reflection.

You just watch him, once more under his spell while you remain crouched in the shadows.

He’s been through so much, you know this. All the shit with Escobar, getting into bed with drug dealers and murderers just to catch him, only to be taken off right at the end then returning to finish off Cali. 

God that must have been so… depressing. You wish you would have known him then, before the job molded him into more of a cynic.

You just want to comfort and hold him. To love him with every molecule of your existence. 

Don’t worry, mi amor, I’m right here.

With that, you make your appearance, slowly standing and opening the door further.

The shift in the air at your presence has the hairs on the back of his neck standing and he turns his head to the side, catching your silhouette from his peripheral.

“Hola, gatita.”

His voice is smooth and it drips straight to your clit.

“Hey handsome.” 

You close the door behind you, leaning against it as he fully faces you. His brown eyes scan you from head to toe before he moves to sit in the large chair behind his desk, stubbing out his cigarette against the overfilled ashtray.

“You know…” He grunts out, resting his forearm atop of his head lazily as he leans back, “I prayed tonight’s operation would play out as planned. Not because of the metaphorical nail in Cali’s coffin, but in hopes that the win would lure you out.”

“Is that so?” Your heart is racing at his words and his evident craving for you. You try not falter as you slowly make your way around his office, shutting the blinds as you go.

There’s six windows. You’ve got five more to go.

“Mhm,” he hums, glossy eyes following you around the small space, “I just got confirmation that Miguel is in cuffs. On his way to Bogotá. And not even a few minutes later… well, here you are.”

“Here I am…” you flirt, moving on to the next window.

Then the fourth… third…

“How did you know?”

Only two more until you’re secluded in a little bubble of privacy.

“Call it a woman's intuition.”

His jaw ticks, not liking the answer but also not making a fuss out of it. Yet. He wants to enjoy you tonight, to become the keeper of time so he can drag out the hours and devote himself wholly to you. 

He’s missed you entirely too much. It’s a different feeling, this yearning that nips at him. Hardly ever does he think twice about the women he sleeps with.

But there’s something about you and how you popped up in his life so suddenly. How you turned his world on its head.

A kitten size hole has been left in his heart since you left him on his bedroom floor like a toy you weren’t interested in playing with anymore. 

You finish shutting the blinds, turning to face him as he manspreads himself out on his leather chair, rubbing his palm along his clothed thigh. It makes you want to pounce on it, to rub your wet pussy all over him in the same way you had gotten yourself off on his pillow.

You can practically feel his muscles contracting, the slight flex snapping a sharp orgasm out of you. 

“How are you going to thank me tonight, gatita?” His demeanor is vastly different than last time; he’s exuberating some of that dominance you know he possesses.

You remain silent, your gloved hand digging in the pocket of your coat as you pull out the envelope with your pictures in it, bringing it up to teasingly wave around.

His name is neatly written in cursive against the paper and his brows raise in surprise. He hadn’t expected an actual, tangible token of appreciation.

“This is for all your troubles. I know how hard it’s been in your world recently.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that. Granted, anyone can observe that his job is fucking difficult without knowing the specifics.

But it’s the way you said it, as if you know more than what you should.

You place the envelope in between your teeth, some of your red lipstick smudging against it as your gaze remains locked on his. Your hands make work of the belt that’s kept your trench coat closed, tugging at it until it’s undone. 

The air is charged in pure lustful electricity as the fabric falls from your shoulders and pools around your feet.

“Congratulations on your arrest, agente.”

The grip on his whiskey glass tightens, golden eyes turning an onyx color as he drinks in your scandalous appearance like a man who’s been denied the basic necessity of water his entire life.

“You’re killing me here, bebita.”

You giggle, scrunching your nose beneath the mask and the sound of your flirty laugh has his lips pulling up into a small smile. 

“Come closer. Let me get a better look at you.”

You comply obediently, placing one foot in front of the other before he abruptly stops you.

“Gatea como lo hiciste la última vez.”

Oh shit, your legs turn into jello at the command and immediately you fall to your knees, feeling the scratchy carpet through your stockings. 

“Good girl. Me encanta cuando haces caso.” He praises and you moan softly, crawling towards him on your hands and knees, the envelope still between your teeth.

He takes a sip of his drink, still lounging and keeping a cool demeanor, yet not relenting with the heavy stare he’s laying on you.

His eyes make out every curve of your body, how the shimmer from your lotion makes you glimmer like a shooting star. If he could close his eyes and make a wish right now, he’d wish to know who you really are.

You stop once you’re in between his legs and he stares at you for a good long minute before leaning forward, finishing off whatever was left of his whiskey and setting the empty glass aside.

His thumb and index fingers pinch your chin, moving your jaw to tilt upward so he can look down into your lovely eyes. The pair he sees every time he closes his own.

“Let’s see what you’ve brought me.”

He pulls the envelope from your mouth, your saliva leaving it damp but he doesn’t give a damn.

He opens it up, eyebrows quirking at the sight of the polaroid photos as he carefully analyzes each and every single one.

You’re hanging on to every reaction he gives, the way his eyes map every inch of your figure and how you photographed yourself for him.

It’s there, in the pictures, that he sees it. The ring. His brows pull together in confusion, his gaze flickering down to your hands that are resting on your thighs.

“Let me see your left hand, baby.”

The statement has a warmth blossoming in your stomach. You’re certain he can see your heartbeat pounding against your chest.

Tentatively you bring your hand up, resting it on his knee. 

He sets the photos on his desk then delicately removes the glove, calloused fingers taking your hand in his as he eyes the beautiful ring.

“This wasn’t here last time… ¿te comprometiste, gatita? Been giving that dirty mouth and pussy to someone else, hmm?” He places a kiss on the diamond, his dark eyes now boring into you.

Your thighs clench together at the intensity of the moment and you shake your head earnestly, wanting to dispel those thoughts from his mind entirely.

There is no one else. Just you.

“No. It’s all for you Javi. I just—” Your words get jumbled up, lost on your tongue as the sexy facade slips for a moment while you try and find the right words to explain your possessive, matrimonial fantasy to him.

“All for me, huh?” He’s getting a kick out of your nervous state, dropping your hand and motioning for you to give him the other as he takes the glove off of it too.

“All for you. I’m yours.” You say in a shaky breath, “This ring… it’s my way of pretending that it’s all real… that you’re mine too.” That you want me the same way I want you.

Silence cloaks the both of you, his face set in an unreadable expression.

“You don’t have to pretend, gatita. It can be real. Just let me see you.” He goes to unmask you again but you turn your head to the side to keep him from doing so.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It won’t be fun anymore.” Translation: I’m fucking scared that you’re not going to want the real me.

“So? We could have so much more fun without all this.” His pointer finger traces the lacey cat ears, “Not that I mind this. It’s sexy as hell.”

You look at him again, seeing the sincerity in his stare but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

“No,” you repeat, a little harsher, “And if you try to take it off again I will disappear and you will never see me again.” 

You rise from the floor, trying to regain some of the control that’s slipped from your grasp. His jaw sets, hands coming up to grip your waist, pulling your body to him until his curved nose runs along your belly.

You gasp softly.

“Tan mala mi gatita bella. Luckily for you I like to work for it.”

He begins to place open mouthed kisses all over your midriff, biting the garter belt and pulling on it so it snaps back onto your skin with a delicious sting.

Your head falls onto your shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his lips. You bring your fingers down to run through his hair, enjoying how silken it is.

His strong hands move from your waist around to your ass, digging his nails into the supple skin while he kneads it, groaning at how soft you are. 

“Didn’t get to touch on this pretty body last time. M’not gonna make that mistake again. Bend over the desk, muñequita. Ahora.” He slaps your ass harshly and you squeal, feeling a fresh wave of wetness soaking your folds.

He relinquishes his hold on you, rolling his chair back to give you room to situate yourself in the position he wants to see you in.

You bend at the waist, your heels making the posture look extra sensual as your breasts press against the wooden surface. 

You hold your breath, anticipating what he does next. 

He gets up from the chair, his touch light as a feather as he traces from the top of your spine down to where the arch in your back is. His hands then go to grip your wrists, moving them so they’re pinned at your lower back.

“Gonna have to keep those pretty pictures on me at all times, gatita. Can’t risk someone else seeing what’s mine. I’d have to kill them.”

His possessiveness further turns you on, and now you want for those pictures to fall in the wrong hands. Just to see how he’d react.

He leans over you, placing kisses on the back of your shoulders, moving your hair to the side to expose more of your flushed skin to him. You turn your head, resting your cheek against the desk as you briefly make eye contact with him.

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” You reply and he smirks, kissing the corner of your mouth.

His lips trail down the same path he just traced, working his way down until he’s kneeled behind you, his breath fanning over your sopping pussy.

Your hips twitch instinctively, the pressure between your legs becoming unbearable. You need to feel him on you, whether it’s that sinful mouth of his or those deliciously thick fingers. Something, anything.

As if reading your mind, he brings his hand up to grope your backside enticingly, running his fingers beneath the band of your stockings, your skin feeling like melting butter beneath his touch.

“Been thinking about this since you left me last time. I should have kept you from leaving, should have buried myself in between your pretty legs instead.”

You lick your lips, “Then stop talking and do it.”

He wastes no time in landing a harsh slap against your ass, the skin rippling beneath the touch and you yelp out in both surprise and excitement.

“Eres una gatita tan traviesa. Voy a tener que domesticarté nena.”

Another harsh slap, then another, then another. With each sting you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm which is a bit pathetic since he hasn’t even touched you like that and you’re already a buzzing, dripping fucking mess.

Each mewl that falls from your lips urges him to continue until he’s satisfied with the flush on each of your cheeks.

His fingers then move to fist the flimsy material of your panties, harshly tugging it until the thin fabric disappears in between your folds and the slight burn from it digging into your sensitive flesh does wonders for the throbbing at your core.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy, bebita, just like I knew it’d be. Look at her, all wet for me. You like getting spanked, don’t you?”

You moan loudly, completely at a loss for words as you nod your head, cheek still pressed to the desk.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Had so much to say last time.” His palm connects with your ass again, coaxing a verbal reply from you.

“Yes Javi, fuck I love being spanked. Love feeling your hands all over me.”

He hums in content, slowly pulling down the ruined underwear off your legs until you’re fully exposed to him. “Since you won’t let me see your gorgeous face, I want you to show off this sweet cunt of yours. Spread her open for me, gatita.”

Exhaling shakily, you move your hands from your lower back until you've got a good grip on your own body, spreading your pussy open so he can see all of you.

For a split second you feel self conscious, not being able to see his reaction as you lay open and vulnerable to him.

That dissipates quickly, however, when you hear his satisfied keen then feel his nose skimming against the plush skin of the back of your thighs, kissing your wrist.

“Now I’m going to taste you.” He repeats your own words back to you, his voice low and deep and fuck are you in love with this man.

His hot, wet tongue licks the length of your slit and you can’t control the noise that you make, sighing his name out. Your skin erupts in chills when he does it again, the coarse hairs of his mustache prickling against your swollen cunt.

“Tan dulce. Dunno how you’re going to pull me off of her.”

And with that, he fully immerses himself in your pussy. He’s desperate, licking every inch of you that he can, savoring the tangy taste of your sex. He sucks onto your folds before hardening his tongue and rapidly flicking the tip against your clit. This has you struggling to keep yourself spread open for him, writhing at his ministrations.

“Oh my fucking god Javier your tongue, holy shit…” You babble, absolutely blissed out as his strong nose nuzzles against your entrance, the tip of it inside of you.

He groans, absolutely pussy drunk, rendering him a scrambled mess as he further buries his face into you, his big strong hands working your thighs, this time actually ripping your stockings.

Making out with your pussy passionately, your arousal drips from his mouth and down his jaw. He pulls back, a stringy glob of your fluids following like a cut open aloe vera plant. His thumb brushes against your clit as he spits onto your cunt, smearing his saliva all over before he slips two fingers inside you.

You clench immediately, crying out his name as his digits stretch you open. “So fucking tight gatita. You gonna squeeze my dick like this?”

Your knees just about give out at the promise of feeling his impressive girth inside of you. You hadn’t planned to actually fuck him tonight, not wanting to spoil the erotic nature of your visits by just giving him your pussy.

But now, as he’s ravishing and fingering you with such vigor and your vision beginning to blur as a sign of your incoming orgasm, you’re back tracking on that decision entirely.

You need him to fuck you. You might just die if he doesn’t.

He curls his fingers at your lack of response, the tips of them brushing up against that spot that makes you jolt, your chest rising from the desk while your thighs tighten.

“Stay put and answer the fucking question,” His free hand moves to roughly push you back down, his mouth joining his fingers on your pussy.

“Fuck yes baby. Gonna squeeze you til I milk every single drop out of that fat fucking cock.” You whimper like you’re in an X rated film, rocking your hips back against him as your stomach tightens. You’re so close.

Content with your answer, he slips in a third finger and harshly sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth, moving his head side to side. That’s enough to have you spill all over him, your body trembling while a mixture of moans and sobs and cries of his name echo out of you like a cock-obsessed woman that needs to be sedated.

Your acrylics dig into the skin of your ass, leaving crescent shaped marks on the flesh.

He continues his relentless assault on your cunt, eating you out through your orgasm. The blood rushing in your ears keeps you from hearing all the filthy things he’s chanting against your skin.

The ring looks so beautiful next to your spent pussy, querida. All mine.

Pulling his fingers from you once you’ve come down from your high, he places a final, more gentle kiss against your clit and you twitch from the oversensitivity.

“Did so good muñeca.” He rises from his kneeled position, the soft sounds of his joints popping having you blink away some of the haziness from your eyes, your body completely limp against his desk.

His hands run along the length of your body before he’s tenderly flipping you over so you’re on your back, the edge of the desk uncomfortably digging into your waist.

Noticing this, he clears some space to make room then lifts you until you’re fully sprawled out on his desk looking absolutely wrecked.

His mustache is damp with your release, lips swollen from him losing himself in the taste of you and drinking all that you have to offer him. Brown eyes remain dark, gaze swimming with longing.

“So handsome…” you mutter dreamily as he hovers over you, his thumb gently caressing the part of your cheek that isn’t covered by the mask.

“I wish you would let me get a good look at you, gatita.” He leans in, kissing your chin then your jaw until he’s trailing down onto the soft skin of your neck.

“Javi…” you sigh out, not only because his lips feel fucking divine but also because you don’t want to have this conversation again.

“I know, I know. You’ll disappear and I’ll never see you again. I got it the first time.”

He cups your breasts in his hands, gently kneading them as he licks down your sternum. He snakes a hand behind you and you arch your back, letting him expertly undo your bra.

The straps are delicately pulled down your shoulder until the garment is completely off, your nipples pebbling as the cool air of his office nips at them.

He wastes no time in wrapping his pouty lips around the sensitive peak and suckling softly. His tongue traces around your areola, grazing his teeth against your nipple which causes you to whine and bring your fingers to entangle in his hair, pressing your chest deeper onto his face.

Repeating the action on the other, he lavishes your breasts with attention from his skilled muscle. His facial hair is an added stimulant to your pleasure and your clit pulsates, body ready to have him inside of you.

You roll your hips, feeling his erection brush up against your naked pussy and your breath hitches in your throat.

It’s then that you realize that he’s still fully clothed while you’re practically naked. The only things that adorn your body are your ripped stockings and the garter belt along with your heels.

Tugging him away from your tits, you bring his face up to yours, noses brushing against each other. You can smell your sex on his lips, so you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself and moaning.

“I need you to fuck me, agent.” Your lips brush against his as you speak, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to you.

His chest rumbles at your request, hands antsy as he caresses and gropes; memorizing all your curves and the feel of your body.

“S’that what my gatita wants? For me to fuck her sweet little pussy?” 

Your answer comes in the form of another passionate kiss with a nod, your tongue intertwining with his then sucking on it softly.  He’s such a good fucking kisser, you could make out with him until your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

He pulls back, quickly beginning to unbutton his shirt in which you assist him, your french tipped nails taking over while he makes work of getting his pants undone and off.

Sliding his shirt off his broad shoulders, you pull him back down to you, lips quickly kissing all over the freshly exposed skin, savoring the warmth radiating off him.

You feel his naked cock pressing against your wet slit and your head cants back, a breathless whimper pushing past your lips while he lets out a deep groan.

“You make such pretty noises, muñeca. Wanna hear them all the time.”

He rubs his plush head against the length of your sopping pussy, collecting the wetness of your arousal.

“Gonna let me fuck this pussy raw, gatita? For all I know you’ve been spreading your legs for half the fuckin’ city.”

Your head spins, body overstimulated by his touch and the words that leave him. 

“Need to feel all of you, Javi. I think about it all the time. No one else. Just you.” You whisper out, once more clenching your thighs around his hips and rolling your own to entice him into slipping inside your tight and needy heat.

He curses, his teasing finally getting to him as he slowly sinks his thick, hard cock inside of you.

You both sigh out in pleasure in unison, your fleshy walls contracting around his length and swallowing him in, almost in the same manner in which your throat had all those nights ago. 

Every part of your body is eager to feel him somehow, your obsession and insatiable craving convoluting your being into nothing more than just something to bring him pleasure.

“Goddamn nena te sientes tan rica. Este cuerpecito está hecho para mí.”

He still hasn’t bottomed out and you feel so incredibly full. Your wet dreams have nothing against the real thing. 

“Javiiii, I need you to move. To fuck me hard and fast.” While you know having him rock into you slowly and sensually would feel better than winning the fucking lottery, you need to drop your own self respect and have him take you like the whores he’s so fond of.

He bares his teeth, straightening his posture so he’s no longer hovering over you. He readjusts your legs to sit higher on his waist.

“Was goin’ slow to give you the chance to get used to me baby pero la gatita quiere mas and I can’t help but spoil you, hermosa.”

Without warning, he snaps his hips into yours and you gasp loudly, the burn of him stretching you out adds vicious heat to your already hot cunt.

“Oh just like that Javi please…” you sob as he begins to fuck you just as you asked. Hard and fast. 

“Pobrecita. Can’t even take what she’s asking for.” He fucking pouts, mocking you and you’re certain that you’ve died and gone straight to horny heaven.

The desk moves with every thrust; pens, papers and other items hitting the floor. 

He roughly takes ahold of your bouncing tits, using them as leverage to keep splitting you open on his cock, your arousal leaving a creamy ring against his flesh and the sight has him going feral.

“Fuck this is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked, querida. So tight and fucking perfect. Bet you’ve never been fucked like this before, huh? S’probably why you came to me. Knew I would take good care of you.”

Your hands grip the edge of the desk, knuckles flushed, to keep you from falling off. The scratchy hairs on the base of his cock brush against your sensitive clit, having you shut your eyes out of pure ecstasy.

You never want this to end.

“Abre esos ojos gatita, you’re already denying me so much by not letting me see your lovely face. At least let me look into those beautiful eyes while I fuck you.” One of his hands leaves your breast, lightly slapping you to get your attention back on him.

As if it ever wavered.

Your eyes blink open, the slight sting across your cheek only bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“D-Do that again.” You plead with a small smirk, squeezing your walls around him and he grunts, slapping your face again.

You moan and he matches your smirk, basking in your reaction.

“Ay nena, eres mi dream girl. Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

His praise paired with the harsh snap of his hips driving his cock deeper is enough to have stars blinding your eyesight as your pussy tightens and your orgasm begins to shoot up your spine.

“Aqui, Javi. I’m right here baby.” Your words slur, absolutely cock drunk.

His torso looks perfectly fucking sculpted, like a god walking amongst men. Different muscles tense and jolt at his movements; you want to bite into his triceps and lick all over his prominent collarbone.

He shifts again, this time throwing your legs over his shoulders and the change in angle has you moaning out like a seasoned pornstar. He places gentle kisses against the inside of your knee, trailing his tongue against the nylon of your stockings before doing the same on the other leg.

This has your pussy feeling tighter and you watch as his own orgasm begins to overtake him.

It’s the hottest thing in the world.

Your left hand trails down the length of your torso until it’s at your pulsating clit, the tips of your fingers beginning to rub small circles against the pearl.

His dark eyes fall onto your movements, his tongue running along his teeth slowly.

“Tan hermosa, nena. Look at how that ring looks against your pussy. Do you touch yourself pretending it’s me, tu esposo, gatita?”

You nod, no longer feeling shy about your perverse delusion of belonging to him in a matrimonial sense. “Si, all the time. Think about you coming home to our house and fucking me on our bed. Ay, Javi I’m about to cum.”

His balls clench, jaw ticking as he too begins to slip into this fantasy of yours. “I’d take such good care of you baby. Make sure all of your needs are, fucking christ,” his thrusts stutter, “met. I’d do anything for you.”

And just like that, your orgasm topples over and your back archs off the desk at the intensity of it. Your vision spots, ears ringing as you douse his cock with your cum.

He fucks you through it, muffled words of praise not reaching you since you’re trying to focus on not passing out from pure bliss.

His cock twitches inside of you, feeling you come undone pulling euphoria out of him too.

“Where do you want it, gatita. You better tell me before I cum in this pussy and make you a mamita.”

Oh fuck, while the offer sounds enticing as hell, you know you need to think with a somewhat clear head so you just say, “Cum all over my clit, please.”

You don’t need to tell him twice, he pulls out just enough for the hot ribbons of his spend to messily land on your exposed clit, some of it getting on your knuckles and ring as you lazily rub it in.

He’s cursing up a storm, a tight grip on your thigh as he empties his balls all over your flesh. 

You both are left panting, his cum dripping down your fingers and pussy onto his desk. Blinking slowly, you meet his gaze and bring your digits up to your mouth, sucking them in and humming in content at the taste of your mixed release.

“Sucia,” he spits out before falling to his knees again, giving you no time to fucking react as he buries his face in your freshly used cunt.

“Javier!” You shout, literally shout, as he eats your cum and his out of your sweet pussy. Your fingers shoot down to tangle in his mussed hair, yanking on it without caring if it pains him or not. 

You don’t even realize it but you’re actually crying. The tears falling from the corners of your eyes beneath the mask and onto your cheek.

You’ve never felt this good. Never had a man, or anyone else for that manner, make you feel as sexy and wanted as the agent that’s currently in between your legs. 

When he finally stands, you’re left an incoherent mess and all he does is smirk.

“We taste good, muñeca.”

You whimper, not knowing how the fuck you’re going to recover from this and if you’ll even make it down the flight of stairs that awaits you for your departure.

Javier’s after care consists of placing soft kisses all over you, whispering sweet words to help bring you back to him. He caresses you again, this time being mindful of your over sensitivity.

He kisses along your thighs and tummy then moves up to each breast. His fingers graze along your skin and when he’s finally at your mouth, your lips meet in a kiss that surpasses any of the other ones you’ve shared with him.

Your mask makes it a little awkward at first but neither of you seem to care, too lost in the feeling of the other. It’s sensual and slow, all the unspoken things felt between the two of you being relayed during this interlock.

He pulls back, resting his forehead against the lace and plastic of your kitten mask. Your red lipstick is smeared all over his handsome face.

The lust in his brown eyes has now been replaced with something else that you can’t quite put your finger on, and that’s enough to snap you out of your trance and you gently push at his chest.

“I have to go.”

He scoffs, not moving from over you, “You don’t.”

“I do, Javi.” You say, a little more forcefully, which gets him to pull away.

Your panties and bra are on the other side of the room and you slide from the desk to retrieve them, wobbling as you go.

You’re going to be feeling him for days.

“How many more times are we going to do this? What’s the endgame here?”

You pull your underwear up your legs, cringing at how uncomfortable the damp material feels against your swollen core.

“There is no endgame. We’re just messing around.”

With your bra back on, you move to retrieve your trench coat which means you have to face him now.

He’s leaning against his desk like he had been when you first arrived, pants undone but up on his hips again.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to sneak in whenever you need a good fuck?”

You laugh dryly, crossing the room to get your coat but he grabs you by the forearm once you pass him; halting you in your spot.

“Javier,” You warn.

“You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

You stare at him, wanting nothing more than to rip the mask off and confess to him how much he means to you despite this being anything but a conventional relationship.

As delusional as you’ve tended to be as of late, you know he’s way out of your league. He doesn’t go after girls like you.

Girls that are easy to dismiss and forget in the pouring rain.

“Same rules as last time: you’re not going to follow me out or stop me. Are we clear?”

He tightens his grip on your arm and you narrow your eyes.

“Are we clear?”

He’s silent but finally lets go and you don’t hesitate to grab and put on your coat.

You’re so eager to leave that you don’t notice your press lanyard has slipped out of your pocket as you’re making your way to the door.

He stands from his seated position and you brace yourself for yet another attempt at him trying to change your mind.

But it doesn’t happen. Instead, you hear the flick of a lighter and that’s enough to get you to turn the doorknob and leave without another word. 

Javier smokes the entire cigarette to calm his racing heart before he lazily begins to clean up the mess you two made in his office.

He’s lost in his thoughts, all consisting of you, until he spots the lanyard in the corner.

Picking it up, he looks at it quizzically before flipping it over. His jaw tightens once he sees your face, the familiarity of your lips and eyes luring him in.

He’s got a clear view now and it strikes him entirely, heart fluttering as he takes in your appearance. 

He reads your name, as if tasting it on his tongue, and the outlet you work for out loud. He recognizes you from somewhere but he just can’t remember where.

This is going to pick at him like an unhealed scab. But at least Javier knows who you are now.

Of course she’s a reporter. Things are starting to make more sense.

Translations:

Identificación, por favor - Identification please

Lo siento, señorita. Regresa mañana - I'm sorry ma’am. Come back tomorrow

El jefe de la DEA - The head of the DEA

Muchas gracias señor, que tenga buena noche - Thank you very much sir, have a good night

Gatea como lo hiciste la última vez - Crawl like you did last time

bebita - baby girl

agente - agent

muñeca - doll

Me encanta cuando haces caso.

¿te comprometiste, gatita? - Are you engaged, kitten?

Tan mala mi gatita bella. - My beautiful kitten is so bad

Eres una gatita tan traviesa. Voy a tener que domesticarté nena. - You are such a naughty kitten. I'm going to have to tame you baby.

Tan dulce. - So sweet

Goddamn nena te sientes tan rica. Este cuerpecito está hecho para mí. - Goddamn baby you feel so good. This little body is made for me.

pero la gatita quiere mas - but the kitten wants more

Abre esos ojos gatita - open those eyes

esposo - husband

sucia - dirty

[harlowsbby]

Do 4 Love 💘

Liked by sza, jaydawayda, urbanwyatt, lilnasx, jackharlow and 2,657,000 others.

yourinstagram all this ass and don’t don’t have me a Valentine’s or a man… smh 🙃🖤

sza if I was a man I’d definitely get me a slice or two… 🙈

druski sheshh all that JUNK in the TRUNK

urbanwyatt @druski my exact response 👨🏼‍🦯👨🏼‍🦯

lilnasx @druski @urbanwyatt you two are disgusting smh… but it was sitting though

jackharlow I can DEFINITELY take all the pressure off you… if you give a boy from Kentucky a chance 😉

yourinstagram @jackharlow hmm show me why I should give you a chance?

Liked by lilnasx, druski, urbanwyatt, lilbaby, lildurk and 1,222,000 others.

jackharlow someone let @yourinstagram now these dance moves will have her wanting to be mine 😮‍💨

yourinstagram if I say yes will you delete this? I can’t believe you tagged me 😭

urbanwyatt it’s even worse I sat there and recorded this for him 🧍🏼‍♂️🧍🏼‍♂️

druski white men can jump but white men definitely don’t got the moves

lilnasx yeah you aren’t invited to the cookout this year….

lilbaby man it’s black history month delete this shit 😂😂😂

Liked by lilnasx, urbanwyat, druski and 999 others.

tmz looks like @yourinstagram must’ve finally took that date offer from @jackharlow..in a previous post from y/n’s insta she has the Louisville location on and from Jack’s story he posted a picture of y/n that was soon deleted not even a second after it was posted! how do we feel about this possible new couple?

urbanwyatt yeah that second picture was definitely for the close friends 👨🏼‍🦯👨🏼‍🦯👨🏼‍🦯

lilnasx @urbanwyatt not you airing them out! smh

urbanwyatt @lilnasx you’d do it too for a check!

druski she’s officially off the market? 😫😫😫

chloebailey I hope they really are dating 🥹💘 love is in the air this Valentine’s Day

druski @chloebailey if love is in the air how about we make this thing better us official

chloebailey @druski2funny you’re officially blocked.

Liked by yourinstagram, jackharlow, lilnax and 888 others.

jackharlownews looks like it’s been (somewhat) confirmed that jack and y/n are dating!! by why he do her dirty like that 😂😭

yourinstagram yeah you posting THAT picture like smh you did me DIRTY

jackharlow @yourinstagram I told you smile baby

@yourinstagram @jackharlow you just called me baby? 🥹

sza omg you two being so cute in the comments 🥹💘 @yourinstagram @jackharlow

druski @sza I think ima be SICK take all that cute shit elsewhere some of us are still single

lilnasx mom & dad fr

Liked by jackharlow, lilnasx, druski, sza, normani and 3,648,000 others.

yourinstagram happy valetine’s day from baby jack and i 💘 (btw yeah he’s my man now hehe)

jackharlow my girl 🥺💘

yourinstagram @jackharlow my man 😌🖤

sza it’s a OFFICIAL ima stan this couple forever and ever 🫡

lilnasx so happy for my pookies

druski so happy for the both of you 🧍🏽‍♂️😀

jackharlownews our man that isn’t our man is finally taken 🤧

[venus-haze]

Working for the Knife (Mickey Altieri x Reader)

Summary: It’s been over 15 years since the Windsor College murders, not that they had ever been on your radar. That changes when you get hired at a New York marketing firm where you work closely with Mickey Altieri, alleged Ghostface killer whose charges were dropped after a controversial mistrial. Working so closely together piques your interest in each other, soon spiraling out of control. [This is an AU.]

Note: Female reader implied to be mid-20s or older, but no other descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also Timothy Olyphant being such a DILF, I had to write something like this (I had Justified era Olyphant in mind while writing this, specifically these gifsets, but you can picture whatever hehe). Creative liberties have obviously been taken. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: True crime elements (the reader engages with a lot of true crime content), but obviously this is a fictional serial killer. Mutual stalking/obsession. Sexually explicit content that includes dubious consent fantasy that involves knifeplay; spanking, daddy kink, oral sex (f. receiving). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

For once, you felt like things were going your way. After a little over three years of scraping by at your old job where you were woefully overworked and underpaid, your months-long job search finally came to an end when a mid-sized marketing firm gave you an offer you couldn’t refuse. Sure, you’d taken a huge pay raise and shifted to a hybrid schedule with your new job, but the highlight was undoubtedly Mickey, the only other person on your small team and the type of sexy older man you sure as hell didn’t mind spending your days in the office with.

With the whole company working hybrid or completely remote, people only came in sporadically, as did you and Mickey, only going in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with the occasional Friday if needed. As a result, you didn’t get much of a chance to meet anyone else who worked there. 

Your first week was fully in person, since some of the programs you’d be using for the job were easier to learn if he were there to show you. You certainly weren’t complaining, having plenty of time to get a feel for your new coworker, silently observing and testing the waters with light flirting, which he seemed to return. Maybe you were just a little too hopeful.

“Big plans for the weekend?” you asked when five o’clock rolled around on Friday.

“Got a hot date with Netflix,” he said. “How about you?”

“My friend and I are getting drinks later, but that’s about it.”

“What’s your poison?”

“Anything under $10, if I can help it.”

He grinned. “A woman after my own heart. Don’t have too much fun.”

“I’ll try,” you said, smiling as you began packing your laptop into your bag. “Have a good weekend, Mickey.”

“You too.”

With your first week at your new gig down, you headed to a small bar in Flatbush to celebrate with your best friend and dish the highly anticipated dirt on your hot coworker. Lee was already at the bar when you’d arrived, sitting at a small table and sipping a beer she went ahead and bought herself.

“Drinks are on me,” you said. “I fucking owe you.”

Lee grinned. “Always glad to help.”

You wouldn’t have gotten the job without Lee. She helped you fudge your resume to match the experience on the job listing, gently scamming your way into the position you now held. All week you’d been texting her about how great things were going, and fawning over Mickey, of course.

After joking about ordering top-shelf liquor on your dime, Lee settled on a margarita, undoubtedly the first of many for the night. You returned from the bar with your drinks, more than ready to gush about how much better your new job was compared to the hell of your old one. Nothing could bring down your mood.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, they pay you out the ass and you don’t have to worry about health insurance anymore. Great,” Lee said over her margarita. “I wanna hear about your hot DILF coworker. No detail is too small.”

“Lee, oh my god, it’s not even fair how hot he is. Our desks are right next to each other in an L shape, and I feel like such a weirdo for staring at him all the time. He’s been so nice helping me all week, too. Maybe I’m looking too much into it, but sometimes I feel like he’s being a little flirty?”

“Is he married?”

“No ring, and no mention of any family or long-term relationship. I don’t get it, how could Mickey be single?”

“You don’t hear many people going by Mickey anymore,” she said. “Either he’s a mouse or incredibly Irish.”

“I think he’s Italian,” you mused. “Altieri sounds Italian to me.”

Lee’s eyes widened. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Wait, was that offensive?”

“No, just that you’re working with an alleged serial killer.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” you asked, but she was already busy typing away at her phone.

Suddenly, Lee’s phone was shoved in your face, a your hot coworker’s mugshot front and center in an archived New York Times article from October 1998.

SUSPECT ARRESTED IN WINDSOR COLLEGE KILLINGS

Michael ‘Mickey’ Altieri, 21, was arrested early Thursday morning in Windsor, Ohio, as the primary suspect in the Windsor College killings. Among the charges are first degree murder, attempted first degree murder and aggravated assault. Altieri has maintained his innocence and is being held on $1,000,000 bail in Windsor County Jail as he awaits trial. 

The brutal killings that made national headlines were directly inspired by the ‘Ghostface’ murders in Woodsboro, California, two years prior and coincided with the release of STAB, a film based on Woodsboro survivor and reporter Gale Weathers’ book on the murders. Survivor Sidney Prescott was a student at Windsor College and targeted yet again in the latest string of murders. Allegedly, Altieri’s accomplice was Debbie Loomis, mother of one of the two original Ghostface killers, Billy Loomis. Mrs. Loomis was killed in an altercation prior to Altieri’s apprehension by police.

You looked away from her phone screen, feeling like your head was spinning though you weren’t even finished with your first drink. “Well, if he did all that stuff, why isn’t he on death row or something?”

“There was a mistrial. It was a huge thing,” Lee said. “You’ve seriously never heard of it?”

“No. Can you send that to me?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’ll send some podcast episodes and Youtube videos on it, too. You know I’m on that true crime shit.”

It took a few more drinks for you to be able to shake off the thought of your hot older coworker potentially being a serial killer, but the rest of your night with Lee was a lot of fun. She’d been one of your closest friends in college, and the two of you lived together when you first moved to New York. You knew she meant well, but damn, did that news put a damper on things.

You returned to your apartment a little after midnight, kicking off your heels at the door and collapsing on your couch, not bothering to make the short walk to your bedroom. 17 missed texts from Lee, all links to videos and podcasts about Mickey that she recommended.

Among the links Lee had sent you was a nearly hour long Youtube video titled: ‘What Happened at the Windsor College Ghostface Trial? A Deep Dive’. The woman in the thumbnail had a scared expression on her face, her eyes focused on that same mugshot of Mickey you saw in the old New York Times article. 

Pressing on the link in your messages, you had the video come up on your TV instead, slouching back in your seat as it began to play.

‘I know most stuff about the Windsor College murders focus on just that, the murders, but I thought it’d be interesting to go into the trial that followed because it was almost like something out of a movie, but it doesn’t get as much attention as the killings, especially since there have been like two more Ghostface murder sprees since this happened. I’m just presenting facts and my own observations here for educational purposes, and it’s not my intention to imply guilt on anyone who hasn’t been convicted in a court of law. Before we get into it though, I wanna give a huge thank you to BetterHelp for sponsoring today’s video—‘

You rolled your eyes, skipping through the three-minute long sponsorship spiel.

‘So my sources for this video are Gale Weathers’ books Wrongly Accused: The Maureen Prescott Murder, The Woodsboro Murders, and College Terror. I also used James Chase’s book Ghostface on Trial, articles from newspapers and a few like lawyer journals that I was able to find online, and whatever stuff from the trial itself that’s public information. I have it all linked in the description—“

Pausing the video, you pulled up the New York Public Library website and searched for College Terror and Ghostface on Trial. Copies of both were available at the branch near your office, and you wasted no time in putting a hold on the books. 

The next few minutes of the video gave an overview of the murders at Windsor College, which you half-paid attention to. You’d watched Stab 2 in high school, so you felt you were familiar enough with the killings. Thinking back on the movie, though, all of the characters had the same names as their real-life counterparts except for Mickey. Legal reasons, you assumed.

You turned up the volume on your TV as the video finally got into the details of the trial.

‘As soon as Mickey was arrested, theories were all over the news about what had happened and there was a ton of speculation about his guilt. James Chase, a controversial defense attorney from Chicago, took on the case pro-bono, stating in his book Ghostface on Trial that he knew he stood to make more money on a book deal, interviews, and speaking engagements by winning the case than whatever fees he’d get for representing Mickey. The defense focused on discrediting both of the prosecution’s star witnesses early on in the trial, planting seeds of doubt in the jury.

Chase and his team leaned heavily on the fact that three years prior, Sidney Prescott had incorrectly identified Cotton Weary as her mother’s killer when in fact it was Sidney’s former boyfriend Billy Loomis and their mutual friend Stu Macher who had committed that initial murder that led up to the original Woodsboro Ghostface murders. 

Gale Weathers’ testimony was also discounted by the defense on the fact that she was a sensationalistic tabloid journalist who’d admittedly fabricated elements of her best-selling book on the Woodsboro killings. She claimed this was a result of editing and to achieve a better narrative flow. 

The defense also said the deceased Debbie Loomis had more of a reason to go after Sidney and recreate her son’s Ghostface murders as revenge for his death. They pushed the idea that she acted with Sidney’s boyfriend, Derek, and that Mickey ended up getting caught in the crosshairs of what was a gruesome and unfortunate situation. Sidney maintained Derek’s innocence, but the fact that both he and Debbie were killed by gunshot wounds made it likely they were the Ghostface duo this time around.

Former Woodsboro Deputy Dewey Riley, another survivor of both Ghostface killings, was unable to testify because he was in a coma. He later said that because he was incapacitated before Sidney and Gale allegedly confronted Debbie and Mickey, he couldn’t say for sure who the killer or killers were, but he trusted their judgment and stood behind their testimonies. 

It didn’t help either that Sidney was visibly distraught while on the stand and mixed up details of the original Woodsboro murders and the Windsor College ones. Gale was initially confident while being questioned by the defense, but later became combative when the inaccuracies in her books came up. In contrast, Mickey appeared calm and earnest, and seemed to have his story straight every time he took the stand.

There’s actually some footage of the trial that I was able to find, so I’m gonna play that now.’

The video was grainy, camera focused on an agitated-looking Sidney Prescott sitting in the witness stand. On the other side of the stand, a blond man in a gray suit read off from a stack of papers in his hand. 

“Ms. Prescott, in your statement to police, you claimed that Mr. Altieri admitted to both you and Ms. Weathers that he had committed the murders with Debbie Loomis and wanted to get caught. Could you perhaps explain to myself and the jury, why exactly an alleged killer would want to get caught?”

“Because he’s fucking sick in the head!” Sidney exclaimed.

“Language, Ms. Prescott,” Judge Matthews said.

“He said he did it on purpose,” Sidney continued, her voice breaking. “He told us he wanted to get caught so he could blame it on the movies! He had everything planned out, the lawyers he wanted, the angle the media would take, he even quoted that line from Psycho, ‘We all go a little mad sometimes.’”

Chase furrowed his brow as he looked over the papers in his hands. “When did he say this? I’m not seeing that in your statement.”

“He said it right after he shot Randy,“ Sidney said.

“Randy wasn’t shot, he was stabbed.” 

Sidney’s eyes widened. “I know. I meant—“

“Ms. Prescott, is there something you didn’t include in your police statement that you’re telling us now?”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Billy quoted Psycho, after he shot Randy at Stu Macher’s house, not Mickey. I got mixed up.”

You gasped, bringing your hand to cover your mouth. The courtroom on your screen devolved into nothing short of pandemonium. The video then faded into Gale Weathers in the middle of being questioned by the defense. She, in contrast to Sidney, looked confident and well-put together under Chase’s grilling.

“Ms. Weathers, you wrote in your book that your camera man Kenny was gutted, when in actuality his throat was slashed, is that correct?”

Gale nodded. “It is.”

“Why the inconsistency?” 

“All books, fiction or nonfiction go through an editing process. That was a decision made by my editor to establish a better narrative flow. It isn’t uncommon in the true crime genre by any means.”

“Better narrative flow isn’t the truth, though, is it?” Chase asked.

“Look, a book is a book. I’ll say right now under oath that Kenny was killed when one of those guys in the Ghostface costume slit his throat. I’ll also say under oath that Mickey Altieri did commit those murders with Debbie Loomis, and he confessed it to me and Sidney Prescott.”

“Your honor, this isn’t the only major inconsistency we’ve found in Ms. Weathers’ book on the Woodsboro murders. Yesterday we distributed to the prosecution and now present to the jury at least seventeen of these major inconsistencies.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m the cheesy tabloid journalist everyone thinks I am?”

The corners of Chase’s lips twitched. “Not quite my words.”

“You’re a real piece of work,” Gale scoffed.

The jury murmured among themselves at her shift in attitude. You found yourself chewing on your nail, enraptured by the trial. For the last time, the video faded out and then back in to show Mickey, your coworker, sitting on the witness stand. This time, the prosecutor was in front of him, his annoyed expression a contrast to Mickey’s calm demeanor.

“Mr. Altieri, we have signed affidavits from several of your former classmates that in your film theory class, you claimed in a heated argument with Randy Meeks and CiCi Cooper, both of whom were killed by this ‘Ghostface’ persona of yours—“

“Objection!” Chase shouted. “Claiming the Ghostface persona belongs to Mr. Altieri is an undue presumption of guilt.”

“Sustained,” Judge Matthews said. “I advise you to reconsider your wording going forward, counselor.”

The prosecutor huffed. “You claimed in a heated argument with Randy Meeks and Casey Cooper, both of whom were killed by the ‘Ghostface’ persona, that violent movies were responsible for influencing people to commit acts of violence, is that correct?”

“It was a classroom discussion. Our professor had brought it up because two fellow students were brutally killed at the premier of a slasher movie the night before, by someone dressed as the killer from that same slasher movie. I just thought it wasn’t a coincidence, and neither did half the other students in that class. Are you going to make them testify too?”

“Don’t deflect, Mr. Altieri.”

“I don’t understand how I’m deflecting. You asked me about a conversation I had with my classmates, and I answered.”

The video went back to the commentator, but you had goosebumps raised across your skin. You rewound back to the clip of Mickey’s testimony, staring at his face. Could he be a killer? Only a few days ago, you wouldn’t have even considered it. Now, you were down a rabbit hole that sent your mind reeling.

‘A lot of the prosecution’s evidence was dismissed as circumstantial by the defense. Mickey had alibis for all of the murders, even for the one Sidney claimed to witness him commit, allegedly shooting her boyfriend Derek. The chat room records and emails allegedly linked to Debbie and Mickey didn’t do much to convince the jury of Mickey’s alleged involvement in the murders. The records did positively identify Debbie based on the account’s password hints and her IP address. The other user was more tech savvy, changing IP addresses to make it more difficult to confirm an identity.

In move that was described as ‘sloppy’ and ‘desperate’ by the media following the trial’s conclusion, the prosecution also tried to claim that Mickey being the only other survivor among Sidney’s friends was suspicious and indicated his involvement, but the defense pointed out that Randy Meeks had also been the only other survivor of Sidney’s friend group in the original Woodsboro killings despite a gunshot wound like Mickey had, and later on at Windsor he was a victim. 

Randy Meeks’ murder actually played a huge role in the defense’s strategy. Several Windsor College students saw Mickey elsewhere on campus during Randy’s murder. The final nail in the coffin was when Windsor County police confirmed that DNA in the news van where Randy was murdered was a match for Debbie Loomis. The police retested other evidence, but couldn’t find anything conclusive.

After weeks of questioning and evidence, the jury deliberated for a little over five days before returning to the judge in a deadlock. Judge Matthews declared a mistrial, and less than a year later, a district court dismissed the case on lack of substantial evidence and all charges against Mickey Altieri were dropped. Despite media speculation that he would, Mickey chose not to sue Sidney and Gale for defamation and hasn’t been in the public eye since the controversial trial.’

You stared blankly at your TV screen when the video ended, another one auto-playing a few seconds later. Even after your drinks with Lee, you felt way too sober to even process any of it. For the next few hours, you devoured videos, bookmarked dozens of articles, and sifted through podcast episodes to listen to during work.

The odd case had made its home in the recesses of your mind. You dreamed about him when you finally fell asleep, just before sunrise. Sitting in the downtown Manhattan office, the open floor layout was unusually bright, fluorescent lighting washing the place in an eerie white glow. Mickey walked over to his desk, blood dripping from his fingers, splattering on the carpet in a trail leading right to him. He looked at you, a smile on his face as he brought his upright, bloody index finger to his lips. 

As the weekend flew by, you tried to keep yourself otherwise occupied. It wasn’t good for you to stay fixated on it, and certainly not fair to Mickey. 

Working from home on Monday helped, as you focused on finishing the last of the onboarding process. 

Tuesday was where things became tricky again. You sat on the forty-minute long subway ride to the office equipped with a podcast episode about your new coworker. The hosts didn’t seem to have much new information from what you took in the night before, except for the last few minutes of the episode where they’d gone off-script.

‘Last I saw online, he was living in Manhattan.’

‘Oh my god, that’s so Patrick Bateman-core.’

‘So you think he did it?’

‘It’s tough to say, like I totally get why the jury couldn’t come to a consensus.’

‘Yeah same, messy as hell. I tend to think that he didn’t do it. Innocent until proven guilty, ya know?’

‘I get that. We did try to get in touch with him for some kind of statement or even an interview—‘

‘Wishful thinking.’

‘Yeah, we looked for his email address, but I guess it wasn’t the right one because our message got bounced back, so that was a big fat bust.’

‘He’s like notorious for denying interview requests, anyway. I think he turned down book deals and stuff.’

Enraptured by the conversation, you nearly missed your stop. On the three block walk to your office, you hurriedly opened one of your playlists and put it on shuffle. The last thing you needed was for Mickey to somehow see on your home screen you’d just been listening to a podcast episode about him.

Your head was spinning by the time you got to your desk. He hadn’t arrived yet, and you felt a bit relieved that you had a little more time to psych yourself up. You shouldn’t have even had to do that in the first place, just be normal about your coworker, but if you learned anything over the weekend, even if he wasn’t guilty, he sure as hell wasn’t normal.

The elevator doors opened, and you looked up to see him walk out, waving at you.

“Morning, Y/N, have a good weekend?”

“Pretty good. I’m more broke than when it started, though. How about you?”

“Like I told you, hot date with Netflix,” he said, sitting down. “Thought you were sticking with shitty liquor?”

“I was, but my friend wasn’t. I got the tab, and she got plenty of margaritas.”

“Shit, I oughta get drinks with you sometime if you get all your friends’ tabs.”

You grinned. “Don’t count your luck.”

He chuckled to himself. The two of you worked in near silence for the next three hours, though you found yourself glancing over at him every so often, out of curiosity and also admiration. His graying hair suited him, and you could see the muscles in his arms from his casually rolled up shirt sleeves. 

Soon, though, you found it hard to stay awake, the light from your computer screen adding onto your fatigue. To your horror, you yawned loudly, catching Mickey’s attention.

“You alright? I’m not too boring, am I?”

“No, I just kept waking up last night. I feel like I barely slept.”

“Why don’t we take an early lunch and go get coffee?”

“That sounds great,” you said, grabbing your purse.

There was a deli right up the block, and when you looked at the small pastry case, you decided to order something with your coffee. Mickey placed his order, a hot coffee and a bear claw. With plenty of tables to choose from, you and Mickey sat near the window. 

Your coffee definitely hit the spot, and the sugar from your pastry helped wake you up too.

“How long’s your commute?” Mickey asked.

“About 40 minutes. I live in Brooklyn, kinda between Bushwick and Bed-Stuy.”

“Damn, that’s long. I live on the Upper West Side.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Wow. Before this job, I was barely able to afford to rent on my own.”

“It’s a rent-controlled building. I’m not making a ton after alimony and child support.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, though he looked out the window as he continued speaking. “It was a long time ago. Deanna and me just didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of stuff when our son was born. I knew before he even got to kindergarten it was over.”

Unsure of how to respond, you slowly reached across the table, putting your hand over his. “I’m sorry, Mickey, really.”

“You’re a sweet girl,” he said, giving your hand a slight squeeze before releasing it. “They live upstate, so I don’t see them much. I have more time for going to the movies and Mets games.”

“I only go when they’re bad because tickets are cheaper.”

He snickered. “I should take a page outta your book. How about you? Any sports? Or reading? Isn’t true crime pretty popular with young women now?”

Your heart pounded at his question. Innocuous enough. True crime was extremely popular. The paranoid part of you couldn’t help but feel like it was an accusation. Then again, he couldn’t possibly know you’d spent the weekend immersing yourself in it, particularly stuff about him.

“I’m not really interested in that,” you said. “Sometimes my friends and I go to trivia nights at bars. I’m not that good, but it’s fun to just hang out. I have a membership at the MOMA, so I go there a lot. They show movies sometimes, too.”

To your relief, the conversation shifted to just that, and Mickey seemed surprised by some of your opinions on different movies. He told you he’d originally gone to college for film studies, which you already knew, of course. The odd thing was, while you certainly didn’t want him aware of just how much you knew about him, you didn’t feel guilty for it, just that he would be weirded out by it, obviously.

You and Mickey ended up talking about movies for nearly an hour and a half, well over your allotted hour lunch break, but he assured you no one would care that much. Still, the two of you half-ran back to the office, and something bubbled in your chest when he sat down and smiled at you, the wrinkles by his eyes becoming more prominent. 

The rest of the workday went by quickly, and you headed to the library where you’d reserved the two books about the Windsor College murders and trial. By the time you got home, you’d already devoured the first two chapters of Gale Weathers’ book. Glad to be working remotely the following day, you let yourself stay up later than usual to read, getting to the halfway point before you could hardly keep your eyes open.

Weeks turned into months, and you absolutely loved your job, and the pay, but most of all, how the content you consumed and your proximity to Mickey seemed to feed into each other in a vicious cycle that increasingly drowned out the rational part of you that knew what you were doing was weird. 

Still, it wasn’t like you were invading his personal privacy or treating him any different than you did before. All of the information you’d read, listened to, or watched was all public as your running list of books, podcasts, and documentaries on the matter grew. You’d even rewatched the Stab movies and started scrolling through threads and tags related to Mickey and what happened at Windsor College. After all of the personal research you did and how much you’d gotten to know Mickey at work, you couldn’t conclusively say whether or not he did it. 

You tried keeping your obsession lowkey, but your friends seemed to notice how you’d shoehorn it into conversations. Lee had even told you she was afraid she’d created a monster by bringing up Mickey’s past in the first place. If she’d never made her comment or showed you that first article, you probably never would’ve known about it, remaining blissfully unaware and going about your business at your typical office job with your hot older coworker.

For how much time you spent at home between work and researching, it seemed like whenever you’d go out, you’d come home to something missing or moved. Articles of clothing gone, coffee mugs out of place, books not quite in the order you’d left them. At first, you chalked it up to your consuming too much true crime content, feeding into your paranoia, but when you asked your landlord to install another lock on your door, it all seemed to stop. That didn’t bode well with you.

Your fantasies blended with reality in your dreams, as you were having increasing occurrences of Ghostface or Mickey, or both, in them. Whenever you woke up, you didn’t remember much except for a warm feeling in your core. One dream remained vivid even after you awoke, though.

You were in your apartment alone, late at night, when you got a call from an unknown number. Normally, you didn’t pick up calls unless you were expecting them, but for some reason you picked up. The details of the phone call itself were jumbled, but you were frightened, running into your bedroom and locking the door behind you. 

To your horror, you’d locked yourself in with Ghostface, the looming predator who looked at you emotionlessly, stalking toward you with his knife. When you turned around, the door knob was gone, and a black gloved hand grabbed your shoulder, moving you to face him as he pushed you against the door. He sliced through your slinky pajama top, exposing your breasts to him. Roughly groping each of them, he let out a low moan in appreciation before bringing the knife to your collarbone, dragging the blade to the valley between your breasts. Your breath hitched as he pressed it a bit deeper, but instead, you felt it in your pussy, like he was penetrating you.

“Give me a kiss, sweetheart,” your masked assailant ordered in a distorted voice.

Slowly, you leaned in, pressing your lips against the cold, hard plastic mask. You gasped as he dug the knife into your skin with one hand, his other slipping under your panties, pushing his fingers between your folds.

“I own you,” he said, clearly in Mickey’s voice this time.

You threw your head back in ecstasy as he pushed his fingers into your tight cunt, and then your alarm blared, jolting you awake. Turning over, you groaned into your pillow in frustration. At least it ended up being great masturbation material later on.

Another Thursday at work, seemingly uneventful as usual. You and Mickey had gotten into the habit of getting lunch together whenever you both were in the office. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but as time went on, they felt more like dates than just a casual lunch with a coworker. Not that you were complaining.

“Got any plans for the weekend?” he asked in the nearby deli the two of you had begun to frequent.

“No, not really.”

“Do you wanna come over after work tomorrow? Watch a movie or something?” he asked.

“That’d be great!” you said, almost a bit too enthusiastically. “Should I bring anything?”

He shook his head, smiling a bit. “I can order a pizza.”

For some reason, you trusted yourself to be normal at his place, telling yourself throughout Friday that everything would work out fine. Being a weirdo about his alleged murders certainly wouldn’t help you get a real date with him, but your infatuation with him was only growing. You liked the slightest hint of danger about him, going to his apartment alone, wondering in the back of your mind what his true intentions were and feeling a bit of a thrill at the prospect that they could be anything less than innocent.

You showed up at his apartment that evening with a bottle of wine in hand, even though he’d told you not to bring anything. As expected, he thanked you for the wine, though he gave you an exasperated look as he let you into his apartment. Nicer than yours, but it still looked lived-in.

“Pizza will be here in a couple of minutes,” he said. “I’m thinking Mean Streets for the movie.”

“It’s a classic,” you agreed. “I love Harvey Keitel in it.”

“You know, that was De Niro and Scorsese’s first time working together.”

“Wait, why did I think Taxi Driver was first?”

“Came out in ‘76, just after he was in Godfather Part II in ‘74. Busy decade for him.”

“You’re telling me.”

The doorbell rang, the pizza arriving sooner than expected. You waited in the kitchen while Mickey dealt with the delivery.

“We can eat in the living room while we watch,” he said, carrying the pizza box inside. “I don’t have many people over, so it’s still a little messy.”

“That’s okay,” you assured him.

He put on the movie, and you balanced the paper plate on your lap, nodding along to “Be My Baby” as it played during the opening scene. Testing the waters, you scooted closer to him a few minutes into the movie. He glanced over at you, and you could’ve sworn you saw the faintest hint of a smile on his face. 

You were especially pleased when he put his arm around you, not bothering with the pretense of a “move,” but rather taking what he wanted. Settling comfortably next to him, you tried to focus on the movie.

Despite his arm around your shoulders, closer physically to him than you ever had been, you felt restless. You knew when the halfway point of the movie was, and so you excused yourself to use the bathroom, telling him he didn’t need to pause it until you returned.

The tips of your fingers itched as you passed closed doors to the bathroom, which he told you was at the end of the hall. Biting your lip, you considered your options, and in a moment of impulse and weakness, you reached for one of the door handles. A mostly empty extra bedroom, maybe his son’s old room. 

You weren’t deterred, opening another door. Jackpot. Slightly messy, with clothes strewn about the floor and on the dark sheets of his bed. Glancing behind you, you stepped into his room and looked around for anything that stood out. 

Most people hid things under their beds, and so you got down on your hands and knees, wondering where exactly he might hide his—

“Don’t think this is the bathroom,” he said, startling you.

You yelped, frantically turning around as your brain short circuited for an explanation. “I—I was just—“

“Looking for trophies? All serial killers keep them, right?” he asked, towering over you from your spot on the floor. “Mementos of their victims or the kills.”

You shook your head frantically. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been snooping.”

“No, you shouldn’t have, but you’re looking in the wrong place anyway,” he said, pulling the knife from behind his back.

“Serial killers also don’t—don’t kill people th-they know,” you stammered.

“Typically,” he agreed, “but I’m not typical, am I? I’m sure you’ve listened to plenty of those cute little podcasts where some dumbasses read the Wikipedia page about the Windsor College murders in between hawking security systems to their listeners that they’ve just scared shitless. I admitted I did it, went to fucking trial, and the jury couldn’t even find me guilty.”

“Point taken.”

“So, what trophy would I keep from you?”

You were silent for a moment before answering, looking him in the eye. “My panties.”

“Which pair? Figure I have at least five of them now. Unless you wanna make that six, sweetheart.”

“You’ve been breaking into my place all this time.”

“You made it way too easy. It’s like you were asking for it.”

Maybe you were. Regardless, you didn’t show any resistance when he lightly kicked at your leg, a silent command to stand up. You got to your feet, though your gaze was fixed on the knife in his hand. His eyes followed yours, and he smirked a bit before putting the knife aside.

He turned you around, pushing you back onto his bed. Your breath caught in your throat as he pushed your skirt up, his hand caressing your ass, fingers brushing the thin fabric of your panties.

“Were you asking for it, sweetheart? Have you wanted this all along? Been a bad girl to get my attention?”

“Yes,” you whimpered weakly, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Y’know, I’ve heard of serial killers having groupies, but you,” he said, slapping your ass for emphasis, eliciting a moan from you, “are something else.”

“Fuck, daddy,” you whispered, fidgeting against his mattress.

“I’m disappointed in you.” Another smack on your ass. “I could’ve been having fun with you months ago.” Smack! You hissed this time, though your pussy was pulsing between your legs. “Bent you over my desk in the office, have my way with you while no one else is around—or maybe a little slut like you would wanna get caught with daddy’s dick buried inside her.”

He spanked you harder this time, holding you down when your body instinctively recoiled at the impact. A pained moan escaped your lips as he pressed his body weight against you, his clothed cock rubbing against your tender skin. Tears welled up in your eyes as the sensation, and you resisted the urge to slip your hand between your legs.

“Or maybe,” he said, reaching around you to wrap his hand around your neck, “you just want me to fuck you before I kill you. Probably cum the minute I put that old Ghostface mask on, huh, baby?”

You let out a strangled moan at his words. “Yes, daddy.”

He released his grip on your throat, standing up to give you one more slap across your ass. “Turn over. If you’re good for me, maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

The friction from his sheets stung against your sore ass as you rolled over to look at him, though he grabbed you, pushing you onto your back himself. His grip on you was tight, fingers digging into your arms as he held you down beneath him, completely at his mercy.

He pulled off your skirt and panties, leaving your pussy exposed for him. He dragged his index finger between your folds, and you whimpered when he brushed your clit.

“God, you’re soaked,” he murmured against your lips. “Was it the spanking, or is it the serial killer thing?”

“Both.”

“Good answer,” he said, lazily circling your clit with his finger. 

He ducked his head down, wasting no time in devouring your wet cunt. His tongue relentlessly flicked at your clit while he slid two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out of your hole. You took them easily, but wondered if it’d be the same for his cock when he’d undoubtedly fuck you. 

Your hands gripped his sheets as he worked his tongue, your feet curling at the tension you felt building up inside of you. He moaned against you, loud enough that it felt like his voice rocked through your body. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded breathlessly.

A pained and outraged whine pulled from your throat when he did just that. You looked down at him between your legs, betrayed.

“Why should I let you cum?” he teased, rubbing light circles in your clit with his soaked fingers. “You’ve been a bad girl.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. “Please, daddy.”

“You can do better than that, sweetheart.”

“Please let me cum, daddy. I’ll be so good. I—I’ll do anything, just—please,” you cried out in frustration of being so close yet not quite there.

“Only since you asked so nicely,” he relented, dipping his head back down between your legs, his hands holding your hips in place as your lower half began to quiver at his touch.

You could feel his lips move slightly against your sensitive pussy, nothing short of a smug expression on his face at making you fall apart so easily. It didn’t matter, your head was swimming, muscles strained as he brought you closer to climax. Grabbing his hair, you pressed his face closer against your pussy, grinding against it in desperation. 

“Mickey—Fuck—“ you choked out as your orgasm wracked through you, fireworks in between your legs as your body shook. 

He ate you out through your orgasm, and another tidal wave of pleasure hit you all at once, almost painful and overwhelming, your brain on fire at the sensation. You could hardly catch your breath when you released your grip from his hair and he lifted his head, your wetness glistening on his lips.

When he kissed you, you hardly had the strength to kiss him back, though tasting yourself on his mouth sent a rush through you. He pressed sloppy kisses to your face, trailing down to your neck. His hard length rubbed against your slick-coated thigh, a low growl coming from deep in his throat.

“W-Wait, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Did you really wanna get caught?”

He stopped, lifting his head from your neck to look at you a few moments before answering, “Yeah, blame the movies, make a real circus of the trial, but my attorney said he didn’t think I could pull off an insanity plea because I was too put together. Obviously pleading guilty and confessing everything wouldn’t get nearly as much attention as actually going on trial. I was pissed at first, but it worked out, I mean I had every reporter eating out of the palm of my hand by day three.”

“Why don’t you do interviews now? Or write a book?”

“What’s there to say? Not the truth.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you muttered. “Are you gonna kill me?”

“Probably should,” he said, the slightest smirk ghosting his lips as his eyes raked over you, “I might need more convincing not to.”

[crescencestudio]

๋࣭⭑ Devlog #39 | 3.27.24 ๋࣭⭑

Happy March!!

This devlog is going to be a bit shorter, but...... it's for Exciting Reasons that I will share later in the post. heh.....heh.....HEH.....

Let's jump in ^^

This month, writing was mostly dedicated to Etza's route! We have officially entered the Developmental Editing part of Etza's route, which is super exciting!!!

There were parts of Etza's route I wasn't completely satisfied with, so I spent a lot of this month tinkering, adding, fleshing out, editing, etc. for their route. I'm happier with it now compared to where it was when we entered this month, and especially with Wudgey's help, I'm excited for Etza to get the love they deserve!

I had a small, optional goal for myself to start Kuna'a's route, but honestly, I felt like between work with the Enhanced Demo, Etza's edits, and just generally feeling a bit tired after being Super Productive in January and February, I decided to give myself a break. That being said, I'm relatively confident I'll be getting started with Kuna'a's route next month, and I'm excited to dive into their route (and the Fae routes in general, teehee!).

Vui is on the very last of the BGs I need from him..... So I am in mourning.......

Kidding but not kidding. Vui has done an amazing job of putting the backgrounds for Alaris together! They're absolutely stunning, and by the time we get to the next devlog, he will have finished ALL of the BGs for Alaris! It's been about a year and a half in the making, which is kinda crazy to think we have been together for this long (and working on the full game for this long), but it's definitely A Moment.

In celebration of him reaching this milestone, I wanted to highlight some of the BGs he's made for the game! The theme is early morning; some of these BGs are in the demo, and some are in the full game hehe. You'll have to guess the context of the mysterious full game BGs :')

Sneak Peek: BG Showcase, morning strolls around the world of Alaris

I also thought it's been a while since I showcased a CG here. While I don't play on showcasing many of the full game CGs on public devlogs (I do show them on my Patreon!), I wanted to show a little snippet of this specific CG.

Why, you ask? Well, for the OGs, you might remember I showed a sketch of the CG during the Alaris Kickstarter---whenever the hell THAT THING happened.

I finished rendering it now that I got the BG for it, so I wanted to show a peek of that sketch that I showed oh-so-many-years ago.

Sneak Peek: Kayn Full Route CG I want to lick him

Generally for art progress, I've been working on CGs as well as some promotional materials, which I'll be getting to in the next section \o/

Now for the Exciting News!!!!

I have two bits of exciting news. The first is...

Sneak Peek: Selection Screen for Alpha/Beta Access (OUUUUGGGGGHHHHH)

I STARTED CODING KAYN'S ROUTE!!!! The first act is already "done" and ready for beta access. And I'm hoping to finish the other two acts within the next couple of weeks. It is crazy to finally be able to code some of the full game routes. Even if they're not at the "final version" or early access stage, it is Extremely Rewarding to finally experience the scripts I've been writing in the game!!! With the CGs.... Extended Screens..... Just seeing the script with visual assets and not just a Google Doc is SOOOOO FSEIKLFJSEILE

Sneak Peek: Chapter Character Cards (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

The second piece of Exciting News is that I have a release date for the Enhanced Demo. YEEEEAAAAAA. It's finally happening!!! Please stay tuned over the next couple of days...... An Exciting Announcement is on its way...................................

I didn't do much market research this month. If I'm being honest, I actually struggled a little bit this month with like...... burnout and workaholism guilt. I wanted to take a break after getting the demo ready for public release, but I just couldn't bring myself to fully rest. It felt like there was so much to do (not just with Alaris, but also with real world/work obligations) and all these looming deadlines was starting to get to me.

I'm hoping next month because I'll actually be Releasing the demo (oops, sneak peek of general release date teehee!), I'll be able to feel like I can take a break. But it also sucks a bit that I feel like I have to Earn It. I think with Alaris being a Kickstarter project, I want to get the game in your hands as soon as possible, but of course it's not to anyone's benefit if I burn myself out in the process and end up with either a worser project or taking even longer to finish it.

I did...... start Stardew Valley again since it is the ultimate dissociation/break game for me. So far it's been working! But we'll see how it continues <3

LOOK AT MY FARM!!!

Should I marry Sebastian or Elliot.

Anyways, hope you all have a great rest of your month, and I'll talk to you Very Soon with an Exciting Announcement! <3

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Erin's Crew

Back from the battlefield

About a week earlier. It was the afternoon when the last team arrived safely back at the Mesa Valley military base after their mission. After the ageing helicopter had landed and the swirling desert sand had settled back on the ground, the passengers were finally able to disembark. And one of them was in a particular hurry…. “Hey, where are you going, Diego?”.

“Damn, I've had to piss for half an hour and I don't feel like flying with this thing anymore…"/ ‘We could have landed somewhere on the way…’/ ”No way, then we wouldn't have come back. I'm not putting another foot in there, the general should finally take care of a new heli, … damn it, I'm going to wet my shorts!.”.

“I don't understand what's wrong with him. The old lady's still in good shape…"/ ‘Well, she's a bit rattly, but she certainly got us back here safely…’/ ‘If she's serviced properly after every flight and you strengthen the weak points, she'll last a few more times. he's just putting on an unnecessary show, hnhn’/ ‘Do you still trust him as a pilot, Colonel Kennedy?’/ ‘Sure, and as you say, Lieutenant Shearing, he's just putting on an act’.

Mesa Valley is a town that was built in the middle of the desert. Once upon a time, people were still searching for valuable natural resources here, but today the mines have been closed down. But the town is not abandoned, some people have settled here. The military has also set up a base here. “I have to take a shower now,” said Lieutenant Roman Cardona in an annoyed tone.

While some of them are in the shower, rinsing the dust and dirt from their last assignment from their bodies, the others look around a little. Especially the youngest member of the team, Peter Lee. “Little has changed here in the last three months… OK, the picture there is new… Where are the others?"/ ”Most of them are on vacation now. And you can go back to your families in a few days too.”

Peter got a happy smile on his face. “I can't wait to see my mother again either. She'll probably be bursting with pride"/ ”You've really done very well as a newcomer here, Mr. Lee. I'll write my recommendation in the report"/ ‘Thank you very much, Colonel’. Erin gave him a friendly nod and a slight smile. “Mhm. Now everyone get some rest.”

echoing water splashing “Hey, Diego, don't forget to wash your cock, otherwise she might not let you touch her again”. Diego hesitated for a moment until he said something. “huh, what are you talking about?"/ ‘hehe, come on now, I've seen you and everyone else has noticed by now…’/ ‘Don't talk nonsense, there's nothing going on…’.

Roman stepped out of the shower soaking wet. “pah, my ass. Hey, I get you, she's really hot, but she's definitely too dominant for me"/ ”too dominant? And what are you? You've been tried to get laid the Muslim women there for the last three months…", Diego said in a loud, admonishing voice. / ‘And I've gotten into a fight or two in the process, yeah, yeah… They started flirting first’. Roman tried to talk his way out of it.

Diego had also finished showering and stepped out of the damp cubicle. “That's nonsense, and you know it. Every time you went to the market you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. It was clear that the men there would be annoyed at some point…”. Roman put on an indifferent look and grinned with just one corner of his mouth. “Pff, what the hell, everything's back to normal at home…"/ ‘Yes, you can spend your money on the brothel again…’ Diego said ironically.

Meanwhile… If there was one thing Erin didn't like about her job, it was the paperwork. Everyone on the team was required to write a report during their deployment, but she took the work off her teammates today so they could recover after the long deployment. All she had to do was summarize everything. “OK, I'll do that first then…”.

Everyone handed in their reports to Erin. After all, she was present at almost every action that took place during the mission. So no reports were falsified. And if something was missing, she would ask… “Who had the stupid idea of putting the basketball hoop right in front of the window here? What if the ball goes through the window? Oh boy…”… Diege knew that it was actually unnecessary to worry about it.

He deliberately remained standing in front of the window for a moment, secretly hoping that she would notice him. . But he knew it was pointless at that moment, because once she was focused on something, no matter how exhausted she was, she couldn't be distracted by anything else. “Hey, do you want to shoot some hoops, Diego?“ / „No…“. To distract himself a little, he took over cooking dinner for the evening. Normally they had a housekeeper on staff for this. But it was her day off today.

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

@greenplumbboblover ⭐

Note: I hope you enjoyed the start of the "helpers" flashback. I used some of @pancakebobs base sims for this team.

https://www.tumblr.com/pancakebobs/766138804601012224/roman-georgina-chloe-peter-alexander?source=share

(Roman, Chloe & Peter) I just thought they would fit🙂 thanks for the great sims.🤗 Diego was created by myself.😏👀😊

The military base was built by my dear friend @liesemietze . You can download it from the Exchange here:

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Hi there! 🙋🏾‍♀️ I've seen that you're taking promts for AOT, and if you don't mind I'd love to suggest something for Levihan:

Maybe Hange could get Levi some tea as a gift, and she gets a bit flustered when she gives it to him because she doesn't know much about tea, but he loves it because she picked the perfect flavour nonetheless, and he is touched by her gesture.

But those were just some ideas, basically I was just thinking of some Levihan and tea hehe - I leave the rest entirely up to you! 🤭

Have a great day! 🙌🏼

Hello Anon! Thank you so much for your request! I hope you'll like this!

Tea for Levi

It's been a few years since the war ended. Paradis was now known to be a hub for international trading, since it was decided that opening it to the world was the only way forward.

It took some time, but foreign businesses eventually ventured into Paradis, where they were offered venues and markets to operate. There were no more walls, so cities began to expand outwards and into the many plains surrounding what was formally known as wall Maria.

Today, there are many imported goods brought over from the handful of nations left in the world. Exotic fruits, interesting foods, new spices and animal products.

But Hange isn't looking for any of those. Today, she's searching for tea.

It just so happens that today was Levi's birthday, and despite having been close for a while now, Hange's perception of time was as awful as ever. She never seemed to remember important dates like this, including their own anniversary. But that's a story for another time.

"Tea is a safe choice, right?" She mutters to herself, marching down a busy road. She's determined to acquire a gift as soon as possible. It's already 5 pm, and stands will begin to close soon.

Getting Levi a gift was never easy, he never really wanted anything. His birthday stopped being meaningful to him a long time ago. Fighting for his life 24/7 certainly took away some of its importance.

But Hange wanted them to have a fresh start post rumbling. No more fighting, no more politics, and a lot of time off and relaxation. "Taking life easy" as she liked to say.

And little gifts and celebrations like this were also part of her plan for a new beginning. If only she hadn't forgotten about it.

"Right, that place should be just around-aha!" She steps into a tiny shop. There is only enough space for 2 people at a time as every other surface and floorspace is covered with shelves upon shelves of boxes of tea. It smells heavenly in here.

"What can I do for ya today?" A short, old man appears from behind the counter, greeting her.

"I'm looking for a gift, do you have anything special in today?"

"Special? For you? Miss, I believe you've already bought pretty much all the blends I sell!" He laughs.

Shit, Hange also forgot that she almost always got Levi tea for his birthday... and every other occasion where gift giving was customary.

She panics, but he continues. "Unless... you'd like to go for something like... this!" The man pulls out a small box and Hange has no other option but to go for it.

Will it be good enough though?

...

It's 7pm when Hange arrives back home. They've been living in a small cottage at the outskirts of what was once Shiganshina. Nowadays, it's just a small part of a bigger city. It's nice and quiet in this area as it's close to the edge of a forest.

She walks in quickly and almost runs into Levi's wheelchair. "A-h my bad!"

"Good evening to you too. Where have you been?" He asks, unfazed. He's already used to her clumsiness.

She takes off her coat and shoes, making herself comfortable. "Town" she replies shortly, at which Levi raises an eyebrow.

"Actually, I have something for you" she says nervously. There was no point in hiding this from him.

"Oh?" He looks curious, following her to the sofa. He pulls his chair close as Hange sits down, and they are now at eye level.

She reaches for the small box in her pocket. Hange had asked the shop keeper to wrap it nicely, so the box was covered in floral paper and tied with a small bow.

"Happy birthday, Levi!" She stretches her arm, revealing her gift. Hange's cheeks redden and she feels excited and anxious at the same time.

Levi's eyes widen. "It's today?"

"Yeah! Wait... you forgot?"

"I'm surprised that you thought I'd remember. But... thank you" he reaches for the box and carefully unwraps it. Hange's eye follows his every movement and Levi finds her excitement to be quite endearing.

"It's... tea? Chamomile?" There's a pause. Oh no. She knew such a simple flavour would be pretty underwhelming.

"Aahh- I knew you wouldn't like it. I'm s-"

"Thank you, Hange" he says, a small smile on his lips. "I always look forward to trying new blends together". He reaches out and pets her head. His movements are gentle, and his warm smile makes Hange go completely red.

She suddenly stands up and yanks the box out of his hand.

"I'LL GO MAKE SOME TEA"

💜This fic is now on Ao3

[thdorkmagnet]

To Market, To Market (Turtle Tots: Before the Rise)

@flufftober 2024 Day 4- Market Day

Chapter Summary: April takes Mikey and his brothers to a farmer's market. 

Duo: April and Mikey

A/N: Finally, April makes her first appearance! I couldn't keep her away for too long being the boys big sis and all, hehe. I also wanted to take Flufftober as an opportunity to show off her relationship to each of the brothers and I had to start with Mikey. Oldest and youngest interactions let's gooooo!

There also seems to be no duo name for April and any of her siblings save for Donnie! Or at least I'm not aware of any. And if that is the case then the fandom really needs to get on that smh. I would offer my own ideas but it's late and I'm very tired so um, let me know if one DOES exist or if you have any ideas for a duo name! I want April and Mikey duo to have a proper name!!

Disclaimer: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles belongs to Andy Suriano, Ant Ward, and Nickelodeon. All rights belong to them.

Having April as a best friend was the coolest thing that had ever happened to Mikey. Not just because hanging out with his new, super cool best friend was the most fun he'd ever had, ever! But also because it meant he and his brothers got to do all these new, super cool things with her and up on the surface of all places! Growing up in the sewers Mikey had always been curious what living on the surface was like and whenever he hung out with April, he actually got to experience that firsthand!

Visiting April was like stepping into a whole different world, one that was bright and colorful and full of actual, real humans and not just Mikey, his brothers, and his dad. And she made sure they got as many fun experiences as she could. She showed them lots of cool places they could never go to alone and was always really careful about not letting other humans get too close so even Raph didn’t have to worry as much. One time she took them to a pool late at night and they spent the whole night doing cannonballs and splashing each other. Another time she took them to a giant store filled to the brim with more plushies than Mikey could ever want or imagine, some you could even make yourself. The teddy bear section alone had Raph almost hyperventilating with joy. 

Hanging out with April was an experience none of them wanted to miss out on, so it really no surprise when she showed up at the lair that day and asked if any of them wanted to join her at the farmer’s market, they all said yes immediately. Mikey agreeing before he even knew what a farmer’s market was. 

Turns out it was a bunch of stands selling fruits and vegetables. More fruits and vegetables than Mikey had ever seen in his life! They sold other things too, but mostly it was just the fruits and veggies from what he could tell. April said all of it was supposed to be homegrown so it was fresh and tasted better than food from the supermarket. Mikey just nodded along, trusting that to be right. 

He was really glad he came. The stands were bright and colorful like the food and the people there were all smiles and polite words. The atmosphere was so nice Mikey almost forgot he was supposed to hide the fact he wasn’t human like everyone else. Luckily April had him covered, keeping him away from large crowds and making sure his hoodie was pulled up over his head at all times. 

The twins and Raph also seemed to be enjoying themselves, Donnie carefully scanning each stand with that scrutinizing gaze of his, Leo racing from stand to stand and shouting out any cool thing he saw, and Raph eagerly munching on any free samples people were kind enough to offer him.

Mikey followed along behind April everywhere she went, acting as her little shadow, bouncing on his toes as she herded him and his brothers around the large lot. He was curious about everything and had a mountain of questions to ask which April seemed eager to answer because she was cool that way. She was always so wise when it came to human stuff and Mikey loved learning new things from her. 

“Wanna know how to check if a watermelon is ripe or not?” April asked and Mikey nodded eagerly.

She waved him closer, picking up a melon from its pile. “You gotta listen for what sound it makes when you tap it.” April turned her ear towards the fruit, Mikey parroting the movement. 

She rapped her knuckles against it and Mikey heard a hollow thunk. 

“Hear that?” April asked and he nodded, wide-eyed. “That means it's ripe.” 

“Wooooow,” Mikey whispered in awe, feeling like he’d just learned some great secret. “How did you know that?” 

April shrugged modestly, pulling a few dollars from her pocket and handing it to the vendor, who was busy chatting with another customer. 

Mikey helped her slip the watermelon into the oversized bag April was carrying and apparently it was heavier than anticipated because she let out an oof when it hit the bottom. April quickly repositioned so she could hold it better, glancing over her shoulder. “Hey Raph, could you-” 

But there was no one behind her, the others seemingly vanishing into thin air. Mikey spotted them over at another booth, Donnie holding something tight to his chest, eyes narrowed, as Raph was trying to coax him into giving it back. Leo was egging his twin on, even as Raph shot him warning looks and frowns. April chuckled, rolling her eyes at the sight. “Figures,” she muttered, voice more fond than annoyed. “Looks like it's just the two of us for a while.” 

“I can carry it!” Mikey offered, reaching up for the bundle, excited to help. 

But for some reason April didn't hand it over, instead she moved it away from his grip, giving him a patient smile and pat on the head. “Nah, that's okay bud. I got it.” 

Mikey pouted, fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie. He didn't know why April wouldn't just let him hold the bag, too. He could do it. He was strong like Raphie. “But I wanna help,” Mikey whined, giving April the sad eyes that always got his way. 

But apparently April was immune because all she said was, “Then how bout you carry this for me instead?” She offered him the much lighter bag slung over her shoulder, carrying only a few carrots and a small jar of honey. 

Mikey frowned but accepted the offered bag, still eager to be useful even if it wasn't in the way he wanted to be useful. 

But then April thanked him for being “a big help” and he glowed with pride, his usual energy returning as they headed for the next booth. He was practically skipping beside her when he asked, “Hey April, why does your mom buy food here instead of the store?”

April sighed dramatically, throwing her whole head back and staring up at the cloudless sky. “Mikey, I've asked myself that same question a hundred times.” 

“Is it ‘cause it's dangerous?” Mikey asked with a curious tilt of his head. That was the reason he and his brothers never went in the store during the day. Their dad said there were too many humans and being around humans was dangerous. But April's mom was human so it should be safe for her. 

“Nah, nothing like that,” April said with a casual wave of her hand. “Mom just likes having fresh ingredients instead of store bought stuff. Says it's ‘tastier when it comes straight from the source.’” It was clear from the way April's voice got deeper and her chest puffed out, she was trying to mimic her mom. But since Mikey had never heard her mom's voice he had no idea if it was a good imitation or not. 

“Is she right?” Mikey asked, curious if this was advice he could use to make his own cooking better. 

April shrugged. “Dunno, it kinda tastes the same to me.”

Mikey was more than a little disappointed in that answer. But then he realized he could just test it himself. Yeah! That way he'd know for sure. He could even ask Donnie to help. Donnie loved making things into proper experiments. 

As Mikey daydreamed, April pulled out the list from her pocket, reading it out loud. “Okay, what else we got? Stuff to make dough, tomato sauce, mozzarella… sounds like pizza again.”

That snapped Mikey back to reality. “Pizza?!” he exclaimed, leaning over with sudden interest, eyes scanning over the list fervently. 

April obliged his enthusiasm and pointed the listed items out for Mikey. “Yeah see, these are all ingredients to make pizza.” 

“You can make pizza?!” Mikey yelled at the top of his lungs, completely floored by this revelation.

“Uhhh yeah,” April said, eyebrows slowly raising.

Mikey couldn’t believe it! All this time he’d thought pizza just came from pizzerias. Or people on motorcycles. But according to Donnie those people worked at the pizzerias and were paid to deliver the pizzas. So beyond that, Mikey had never even considered that a person outside a pizza place could make their own! This was huge!

Instantly Mikey was hopping up and down, latched onto April with a death grip. “I wanna make one! I wanna make my own pizza! Can I?! Pretty please! Please, please, pleaaaassseee” He batted his eyes cutely, hoping this one was more effective than the sad eyes from earlier. 

Mikey saw a small hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth but it was gone a second later as she thoughtfully tapped her chin. “Hmmmm, well mom did give me a little extra cash in case I wanted to get something for myself.” 

Mikey squealed, hopping even faster. “Can we use it to buy stuff to make pizza! Please, please, please, please, please-”

“Okay, okay,” April interrupted the stream of begging, laughing as she tried to shrug Mikey off her arm. “We can get you stuff to make pizza!” 

“Yay!” Mikey exclaimed, releasing April’s arm so he could hug her tight around the middle. “You're the bestest, most coolest friend ever!” 

April giggled, giving his back a little pat. “And don’t you forget it,” she said, light and teasing. 

Mikey, too excited to stay still a moment longer, grabbed April’s hand and started dragging her deeper into the market. “Okay, let’s hurry and find everything so I can start making pizza!” 

April didn’t fight his hold like he’d expected, instead running to try and keep pace with him, her contagious laughter still loud and strong. 

They quickly passed by Mikey’s brothers who all turned to watch them go, eyes wide and confused. “Hey, where you two off to in such a hurry?” Raph asked. 

Mikey shot his big brother a smile over his shoulder. “To find ingredients so I can make pizza!” he explained quickly. 

“You can do that!” Leo, Raph and even Donnie exclaimed in absolute disbelief, making April laugh impossibly harder than before. 

[quitefair]

10, 12 & 17 for the worldstate ask game. re:your answers the longer the better

<3

aghh you indulge me so..... (answering these for all three of my girls hehe)

10. are they good horse riders?

Arra: Terrified of them. Will never go near one with a ten foot pole.

Indra: Can handle herself on horseback, but isn't a terribly good rider. She much prefers travelling on foot or by caravan.

Tashak: Grew up with loads of farm animals and livestock, her people placed beasts of burden in particular in high regard (which I hope will be addressed in The World Expectant-verse eventually, its pretty important to her culture). So yeah, she's great with horses. In fact, I went and gave her the most difficult mount in the game for this very reason ;) maybe there's a story behind that, who knows?

12. attitude towards Mabari?

Arra: Initially indifferent to them until she got hers. Ishal very quickly becomes one of her closest companions, and she would die for him by the end of the game.

Indra: Is Ferelden :) Enough said.

Tashak: Admires their intelligence, but never was around them much (there were more regular dogs in the Marches where she grew up)

17. what were they like as a child?

Arra: Scrappy, constantly covered in dirt and bruises, always, always behind her mother. Devouring everything Adaia had to teach her. Her pride in her people was instilled by her mother, and it's one of the few things she has left of Adaia when she's gone.

Indra: Very quiet, very bookish, barely spoke outside of their household. I kind of went into it a little in Names, but she's one of those kids that hid behind Leandra's skirts when they went to the market, or behind Malcolm as he spoke with traders passing through Lothering. Terribly shy, but curious as anything, watching the world pass by with wide open eyes.

Tashak: Ah this is where things get a little sad. Because there's the pre-Incident Tashak, and post-Incident Tashak. (What the incident is... some of you will know. But I'll not say it because it's a little bit of spoilers.)

Pre-Incident Tashak was outwardly cheerful, curious and charismatic, greeting everybody with a smile and a question. No stranger danger (which was her downfall eventually), and would always run up to family friends for a hug when they came to visit.

Post-Incident Tashak... is essentially the beginnings of adult Tashak. Quiet. Reserved. Cautious to a fault, a little anxious at meeting new people. She's still warm and affectionate with her family, but others see a serious, determined child constantly at the archery range. Practising day and night to be good at the bow. To protect her family.

[signs-of-blossoming]

hello hellooo o/

for the platonic f/o asks:

🏝 Where would you like to travel with your platonic f/o?

📌 How soon and why did you decide to make them an f/o?

🧃 Were you and your f/o childhood friends? If so, what were you like? If not, what would it have been like if you’d known each other as kids?

for mitsuru and/or niki?:3

omg haii hello haiii bestie :D going to answer for both mitsuru and niki

🏝 Travelling gets me very stressed meaning theres like. 0,5 people in the whole world whom id travel with to some place i haven't been in before, so for this one im picking from places ive visited already :3

Mitsuru and Arisu are going to Georgia :3 I had to live there for a bit + came back there several times, and its actually a pretty nice place. I already know where the best bakery in Batumi is + they're going ham on achma and khachapuri + going to the botanical garden together but accidentally going on the wrong bus so Mitsuru and Arisu have to walk five billion hours uphill through the forest on the roadside hust to get there, and then its four hours of walking through it so Mitsuru (unbothered king, still running around) has to drag Arisu back to the exit afterwards <- based on true story. They had fun tho ^w^ A lot of walks near the sea too!!

Arisu and Niki Thailand trip is so real to me. The whole time I've been in Thailand i just kept thinking that having Niki there would be sooo fun. Eating insects without people being weird about it 💗💗💗 Going to a night market to try something different for dinner every time 💗💗💗

huh i really made both of those about food huh....

📌 If we're talking about specifically establishing them as my f/os... Pretty close to this blog creation ngl ^w^ im new here teehee. I have figured out me and Niki share an unbreakable bond pretty much as soon as ive read hot limit (and main story itself to some extent tbh) and i got a soft spot for Mitsuru after reading What Day Is Today and Purple Wisterias of May so... whenever I got my hands on those tls?

🧃 Arisu isn't from Japan originally, so they had zero chance of being childhood friends TwT7 But in an alternative universe....

Arisu used to be much more awkward in the past, but they got along with younger children well enough, so I'd imagine it would be Mitsuru dragging this older nervous kid into his adventures... Fun to imagine indeed hehe :3

And Niki and Arisu i feel like would constantly visit each others houses, to the point where their parents set an extra plate for dinner every time. And when Niki was left to live alone Arisu would come over even more often so he doesn't stay alone

[willel]

Some responses

Maybe it's a difference of opinion, but someone who attended the play clarified that by the time Henry got to the UD, he already had his powers because he was able to defend himself while he was there with said powers.

It's not a situation where someone can plop into the Upside Down for 5 minutes and get their powers. Nancy, Joyce, Hopper, Steve and Robin aren't about to become super powered because they were there for a few hours.

I'm not too bothered about Brenner's original interest in the UD. I already knew about the Philadelphia Experiment with the ship and it's relationship with the Montauk Project. It is never mentioned in the show even though the creators of the Montauk Project use it as one of the pinnacles of their "evidence" so seeing it finally tied into stuff here is kinda neat.

It doesn't change much with Brenner's story. I did write a post a while back I think saying I don't think Brenner was aware of other worlds until the incident in 1979, but I guess this disproves that.

He believed in what most people thought was a conspiracy and was finally proven right by what El did in 1979. Brenner's obsessed with El, Henry and the UD makes sense. He's a weirdo fanatic that probably would've written Montauk Project himself if he weren't one of the main people involved with it.

This is not what was stated by the person who saw the play.

Kali's involvement with this doesn't make a ton of sense right now. It's too coincidental that Brenner found a pregnant European woman in the US, had her injected, and then she went back home all chill? Just seems odd. Did he have agents all over the world randomly pricking pregnant woman with Henry's blood, possibly killing most of them, and then taking the children of the ones who showed promise when they were born?

Kali's story would make a lot more sense if there are just naturally gifted people out in the world rather than this blood transfusion story they're going with but whatever.

I have no choice but to believe a lot of women had no idea they were being experimented on in the first place and didn't willingly give up their children.

For example, Terry. She was involved in MKUltra yeah but she supposedly stopped participating when she found out she was pregnant.

Or if we go with the Suspicious Minds explanation, Brenner knew she was pregnant before she did because they took urine samples every visit and he continued to experiment on her anyway. So I suppose the blood transfusion could've happened then.

Then most of the rest of the women I guess were called in my their ogbyn one day like "Hey we need to do this super dangerous blood transfusion. For your health and the baby of course! NO other reason" and they either lived and then their baby got kidnapped or got sick and died.

Contrived...

As for Bob's involvement, doesn't feel like Bob needed to be involved. Nothing against Bob of course...but it is without a doubt a contradiction.

This play has a big issue that I take with many a prequel........ NOT EVERYONE HAS TO KNOW EACH OTHER IN A PREQUEL. I understand the temptation to be like "Hehe, they were connected all along!"

But if the sequel to the prequel makes it clear that that's not the case... then just don't do it. It ends up being cheesy.

This play is like.... a dream where some bits of relevant information are dropped but the rest is kinda like a fanfic reimagining of the story events by the creator themselves.

I'm not saying that's a bad thing. While I can't think of any off the top of my head right now, the creators making an AU version of their story for shits and giggles is not new.

But them insisting this is canon and will be relevant to season 5..... why are you telling people this is 100% canon when it's contradicting your million dollar show?

In the end, I feel like the "THIS IS ALL CANON" stuff is just marketing to get people to come watch it. To me, this is about as canon as that first Will comic and Suspicious Minds.

It's canon.... save the contradicting parts.

[bluedeedeedoop]

Some questions for the barrissoka ask game!! 20, 25, 29, 30 and 45

OML YESS THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS @im-yotsu!!! 20.) What would they gift each other for holidays like Life Day? HMMM.. i think Barriss would definitely spend a LOT of time trying to figure out what to do, probably overthink it, but only because she wants to do the best she can for Ahsoka <3 I think she would eventually go with something heartfelt, most likely something she makes handmade, i like to think Barriss is into sewing and stuff hehe. Ahsoka would find something for her that she thinks would match Barriss <3 25.) Whose more likely to propose and how? Ahsoka for sure! I feel like it could go 1 of 2 ways. either like a near death experience and shes like mArRY ME? or like a well thought out plan, honestly either way would be tear jerking but that might just be me cuz i cry at anything barrissoka- 29.) Describe their home if they were able to live together. OKay but like very simplistic but comfortable YK??? Like okay, Barriss keeps it NEAT and TIDY cuz yES. like fANCY VASES IN EVERY CORNER CUZ WHY TF NOT. Ahsoka would want to add stuff she finds at markets that like cOMPLETELY DON'T MATCH BUT LIKE BARRISS LOVES HER SO ITS LIKE: Ahsoka: Barriss look what I found! I know you like vases so I got this one! ugliest effing vase Barriss:........tHAnk yOu 'SOka....! 😃 30.) Who would be the better cook? Barriss would like to experiment with new recipes a lot for them! She probably cooks the most because of her constantly experimenting so with the more practice she would be the better one, I imagine Ahsoka was never taught to cook by anakin, so she's stuck with instant meals....(barriss refuses to let Ahsoka eat that on a daily) 45.) Share your Barrissoka headcanon.

Okay but like this one isn't very original but i stand by it 100%- LIKe OKAY- Ahsoka loVEs Barriss's hair, like she loves to play with it and put small braids in it because she doesn't know what it's like having it, and Barriss absolutely adores when Ahsoka becomes curious! THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE ASKS!!! KEEP EM COMING YALL

[lumiereandcogsworth]

Hii, i was wondering what you think if belle and adam would ever tell their kids about the curse?

hiii!! great question. i have pondered this many a time, over the years.

my thoughts in general are, for the most part, no i don’t think they would. like Especially not when the kids are young. i do admit that i did play with this a little bit in my recent fic between belle & renée when she’s five. belle says something about encountering a “monster” that turned out to be “the most beautiful thing” she’d ever seen. and when renée presses further, belle says it’s a story for another day ;) hehe.

that being said!!!! i don’t think that other day would ever actually come, lol. it’s complicated because it’s so insane ?? i don’t personally think that magic is prevalent in their lives after the curse AT ALL. i think agathe roams the earth cursing pretentious assholes, it’s like a hobby for her, and this just happened to be her chapter with the prince of france lmao. obviously it does mean that magic just ~exists~ in this world, but i still don’t think it’s common enough that adam & belle could just casually tell the story to their children without positively blowing their minds.

i think, sometime quite soon post-curse, the gang gets together and has a meeting to kind of come up with a cover story. they don’t need to explain anything in detail, but it IS weird that all of the sudden, the prince (who had such a reputation for being a horrible man whore) is now courting some girl from the local village. that IS strange. so they come up with a cover story that basically skews the truth. it’s something like this:

belle’s father got lost in the very stormy woods on his way to the market. he sought refuge at the castle. he was allowed in (adam’s past friends would probably be like “you let him in??????” but adam just shrugs it off and says that the housekeeper already had him tucked in bed before he even had a say in the matter. so he just let it go.) and while maurice was there, he gets a cold, so he stays to recover. belle, then, comes looking for him, since it’s been more than two days, and she ends up there too. not expecting to find him, but hoping to ask the guards or groundskeepers if they’ve seen an old man and his white horse. she’s invited into the castle to greet her father. she ~happens~ to meet the prince. and, as adam says when he tells the story, “i fell for her at once. i just couldn’t let her leave!” which always gets a laugh from the listeners (followed by an elbow to the ribs from belle, lol).

so anyway that’s their cover story. and that is the story they tell their children, whenever they inevitably ask how their parents met. years ago i thought about silly plotlines where one of them mixes up details, and one of the children catches on and starts getting suspicious, and the odd truth comes out. but i honestly don’t think the children care that much about how they met. they believe the story and have no reason to question it further (i know we all love how in love adam and belle are, but the children are often very over it and could do without the heart eyes at the damn dinner table!) (they do love their parents being in love though, too 💖)

do i think that, maybe one day, when the children are adults, it somehow comes up?? i mean damn maybe. life is wild. but honestly what i think would happen is that it wouldn’t slip out until adam & belle were like, an elderly couple. still enamored with each other but. old! and one day belle rambles about how he was her “beautiful beast.” and all these things. and the children and grand-children are like okay ma that’s a new level of TMI!!! assuming she’s just telling very silly stories, as she is so very prone to do.

idk, i think it’s okay that the children don’t know that their father (and all their basically family members!) were legitimately, physically cursed. because the point of the story was always about what was inside. adam, over the many many years of his fatherhood, does share with his children what he feels is important to share. they know he wasn’t a kind man in his younger years. they know his father was a brute and abused him and his mother. they even eventually learn about the fears he had of becoming a father himself, because of how difficult his childhood was! and how through it all, their mother has been his most loyal support, his biggest inspiration, and his constant love. THAT’S all the children truly need to know. the details are hairy (pun intended haha) and Wild and sure it could be fun/funny, but i think adam would rather teach them about the lessons he learned, rather than the insanity of the way he learned the lessons.

[yoimo06]

09:26 am !! 18.04.24

First day of writing my thoughts feelings and experiences here and whatever else. I heard tumblr works well as a journal/blog so might as well.

Even though I'm honestly still not entirely sure how this platform works (especially not on the pc ver) we all learn as we go, don't we?

Anyhow. I gotta get back home from school.. can't believe I'm sick again! Man, it's all the girl's fault for not being able to keep their asses home when they're sick. I confronted one of the girls about it and she really said "You would've gotten mad at me for not coming to help with the project" (we are unfortunately working on a group contest together — a group of 6 girls) like, no girl, no one would. She was the one that got mad at another person from our group when THEY were sick and told them to come to school. Darn hypocrite.

I hate this damn problem doe. Its so stupid. There are ups to it though. For example, i didn't have to attend a bunch of classes which is cool but then again im falling behind w all the lessons and shit so thats not great.

I just want it to be over fast. Cant stand working w some of these people no more. Fake asf

Rn im taking a bath! My favourite thing to do ngl. Its so warm and nice and cosy. Outside, in the parking lot behind our house theres people setting up the farmers market. Ive always found it so endearing and nice!! I love farmers markets and even if i dont buy anything, just passing thru it is nice.

On another brighter than all the other notes!!! My boyfriend got accepted into Uni here!!! We'll be breaking long distance soon. Its all happening so fast but im so glad so so glad hes coming home soon. I miss him more than anything. He's also going to come visit in a week or so!! I cant wait

Next week our school has this thing called 'Green week' where we take a break from normal school activities to instead do other things related to nature n shit. In concept it sounds nice but our teachers always pick the most boring activities for us...that sucks. For example, we'll be going to the Botanical garden for 4 hours!!! That'd be cool and all but we all know the botanical garden like the back of our hands from how much we visited it.. Theres plenty of other things to see, im sure, but most teachers don't wanna bother with actual interesting stuff, unfortunately.

Another small something is that i have recently started playing Star Rail again! Its great!! I would say im doing quite well, advancing through the story and stuff... I still have to properly build my charas doe oops! Thing is, i came back for this new character called 'Boothill', truly a charming gentleman. Haha! I managed to farm around 100 wishes in a week with a bit of help from my boyfriend as well~ I will get Boothill guys trust!! I kinda gave in though and pulled for Aventurine as well ... and i got him. But theres around 40 days left to farm for Boothill so im sure ill be gucci!! Ill be pulling for both him and his lightcone... and hopefully more copies of him hehe~~~

Todays weather was kinda shitty. The weather has been shitty recently actually. Its so cold and it keeps raining even tho not too long ago it was all nice warm and sunny, like how spring should be! I miss the nice weather, i hope it comes back soon so i can wear my short skirts, long socks and cool graphic tees!

Hmm~ I might hop back on here later mayhaps mayhaps to write some more stuff but for now ill be signing off!

Byebye ~

[senfan-san]

89's Episode

This is a very late translation, isn't it? Hehe, school and work have been taking up all my attention but I managed to finish all the non-translated World Empire Episodes! This is great! I can finally focus on the Chassepot story which I was hoping I could translate! :D

This episode was pretty sweet in the middle! www \(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/ Soldier-san is super cute in this one! Miso ramen for the win!

I will begin to make some new changes in the blog tomorrow. I'll be compiling all the WE Episodes from me and @/senjuushi 's into one post and update the resource list! Lol I need to get on top of that!

Please enjoy and thank you for your support everyone! 🙏❤️

Original Video (Skip to 9:46)

89 — Episode 1

The Spy Saw It! ~The Troublesome Monolouge~

~Scene Begins in Battlefield~

89: “… Ah... assigned... me. Ah, it's so dull. We don't need to collect a bunch of stupid rocks.”

89: “Why didn't you just let the soldiers do the work that normies do?”

89: “I don't understand why we're hunting rocks anyway... It's too dull.”

89: “Michael said, ‘I will help the soldiers improve their efficiency by playing the piano’...”

89: “Hah... Playing the piano won't make them better, that’s just common sense.”

89: “Why do I have to go on a treasure hunt with soldiers while listening to classical music at a war site... Damn it, just forget about it.”

89: “...Ah, that’s right.”

89: “I have to go report to "that guy" when I'm done. Ah, so annoying.”

89: “That's a total pain in the ass. I'll just skip it, then.”

89: “No, it's too much trouble to even skip the report. I'm afraid of what happens afterwards.”

89: “The other day, when I skipped a call from "that guy"... Mauser chased me around all day.”

89: “I hid in the bathroom because I didn't want to have to deal with running away from him…”

89: “The Mauser guy was so darn stubborn, he even searched the toilet cubicles.”

89: “It was a bit of a horror to hear the doors opening one by one from the back.”

89: “He's really persistent... I just want to disappear and become air.”

89: “...Oh, well, what the hell. I'll just have to go report it.”

89: “And after the report... I think I'll stay in my room today and break the deadlock.”

~End of Episode 1~

89 — Episode 2

The Spy Saw It! ~A Surprisingly Sensible Man?~

~Scene Begins Inside World Empire~

89: “...Aah? What… want? Don't talk to me while I’m in the middle of a game! I can't take my eyes off the screen right now!”

Soldier: “I'm—I’m sorry! I'm just trying to inform you about tomorrow's mission…”

89: “The operation? Shit... I get it!”

89: “...What do you want? You have 30 seconds to tell me.”

Soldier: “Sir, there's been a change in the start time for tomorrow's mission. 8 PM, at the appointed place!”

89: “That's it? Yeah, yeah, got it. Well, I'm going back…”

89: “...Next time you interfere with my game, I'll kill you.”

Soldier: “I-I understand...!”

Soldier: “...! Uh, sir!”

89: “...Aah?”

Soldier: “Uwah...! I'm sorry again and again!”

Soldier: “I got some Japanese instant noodles at the market and brought them to you…”

89: “Ramen? ...Oh, that's their miso flavor! I just ran out of stock, so I'll take it.”

89: “Well, I'll be going back this time... Thanks for the message.”

~89 Continues Gaming~

Soldier: “Yes, sir! Excuse me!”

Soldier: “...Phew, I was so nervous.”

Soldier: “89, you're rather decent, unlike most Noble Musketeers. A great deal of them are a bunch of strange people… even though you’re scary when someone interrupts your game.”

Soldier: “I'll bring you some more miso seasoning when I find it.”

~End of Episode 2~

89 - Episode 3

The Spy Saw It! ~Pre-Operation Quarrel~

~Scene Begins in Battlefield~

89: “...Here? It’s not that... right?... If it's so hard just to be on a mission, why am I with this guy...?”

Belga: “I feel like ima’ puke if I share your opinion... That's the real problem here! I don't get it!”

89: “I'd rather play games and capture enemy bases than fight with you.”

Belga: “Hah? Real combat is definitely more exciting than virtual combat!”

Belga: “...Ahh, I see. You're a fuckin’ virgin, aren't you? Yahaha! Am I virtual enough for you~?”

89: “Huh…? Haah!? How the hell do you know if I'm a virgin or not!?”

Belga: “...Fuckin’ hell, that's soo funny! …Yahahahaha!”

89: “You really should kill yourself. I mean, what the hell does that have to do with fighting!”

Belga: “Woah... Your reaction is super stiff. Look at my arm, my hair it's standing up.”

89: “...Heh! Not only do you have the brain of a little bird, you've also got the arms of a bird. Shame, huh?”

Belga: “Aah? What the hell? You want a fight?”

89: “...This is no time to be stupid. It's time to go. Let's go, Belga.”

Belga: “Don't give me orders. Don't drag me down to your level, virgin~! ♡”

~Belga Runs Away~

89: “Meh…!? Damn it, he's gone... Aah, this sucks. Everything is seriously so dull.”

89: “Hah... Fine. Let's go smash some old guns and relieve some stress.”

~End of 89's Episode~

[Extra Tibit From Senfan-San!]

Before I say anything, thank you for reading the translation! I really appreciate it when people see my work, even if they aren't vocal about it. I also cuss a bit here than usual, lol ignore it :D

Work(TA and programmer @ a school) was crazy man... They brought a whole petting zoo(where a goat almost ate my phone) and I saw the kids assault each other with chairs heehee

I also got to help operate the t-shirt launcher and that shit went higher than a drug addict... like hit the ceiling high.... im surprised that the big gym couldn't withstand the power of that thing

I also got a really nice lunch today! The parent were so sweet and gave us philly cheesesteaks and lemonade to begin the spring semester :)

That's all I have for today! Thank you for staying until the end!

[siodium]

afa (mostly) + the marketplace collective haul =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇)

orv hairclip set, sticker sheets, photocards, 3d keychains, and prints (@miu_akatsuki) - these are the stuffs that i wanted the most at afa, especially the shattered pc set!!! i was so afraid they'd be oos by the time i went on sunday, so i asked my colleague to help me grab most of the items when he went on friday. he missed out on the keychains, but luckily, they were still available on sunday~ i also got a lot of freebies!! love them!!

narutomaki charm, soy sauce fish charm, tabemono print + freebie snowglobe sticker (@mintymentaiko)

food prints and pouches (@eggbuttertoast) - um so i was supposed to pick either the bakery or the coffee shop design but i ended up with both.

omw to f*ck shit up print, mystery rollerblades print, mystery sticker pack (@sadshrimps) - absolutely had to get the shrimp driving print bc same. i am a learning-to-drive shrimp. sadshrimps also complimented my fit and horns?? made my day. 🥺🫶

a6 hualian and orv prints (@mors_gn) - wanted the hualian print when i saw their catalogue!! so pretty.

a5 ivan&till prints, dokja prints (@daedawdaw) - the coloursss omg absolutely gorgeous!!

a6 orv foil prints, circus show dokja sticker pack (@yiyuehua) - the foil effects are so nicee.

ivantill sticker sheet and keychain, red and white warning belt (@rollround) - thought about the belt for the longest time and finally pulled the trigger.

makima sticker (@shibaruirui)

hotpot magnet set (@heyvegemates) - sponsored by koko hehe~ new magnets for my print board~ gonna update it soon since i bought so many new prints.

"you're my ebi-thing", "biggest crybaby", and takoyaki lover stickers (@shabubaraa)

tummy ache survivor sticker (@poroful) - koko got this for me cuz it is me.

melon soda, cafe date, and night market sticker sheets, bread packaging washi tape, squishy charm blind pack (@mochigardens) - i accidentally bought a dupe of the washi tape..... (•᷄ࡇ•᷅ ;) good to know that my aesthetic is consistent LMAO.

kasa obake strawberry milk and bakeneko milk socks (@shermstan) - i love all the sock designs!!! i might get the other two designs next time...

assorted pokemon stamp set, espurr keychain, wooloo and chandelure omamori pouch (@pokebox) - i'm neither an aries nor a libra but i like the pokemons so!! currently using the wooloo one to store the omamori i got at the fushimi inari shrine. i haven't tried the stamp set but i had to get it bc there was an espurr design.

mushroom and bok choy beaded keychains (@??)

dunmeshi reusable bag, izutsumi wooden keychain (@cheebpaku) - i've been eyeing both of these for a while!! the bag was sold out last time iirc, and i just didn't wanna pick favourites for the charm bc i actually don't have a fav dunmeshi chara. sO i made my colleague pick one out for me when he was helping me shop. i thought he'd pick his fav senshi but he got me izu!! very cute choice.

not pictured but i got some duck poop oolong tea (鸭屎香) from convivial feast, and some room/linen sprays from the wicker club at the marketplace collective. the tea is really nice!! very light, not astringent at all, and has a hint of honey?? despite the name, there's actually no poop in the tea.

since there was barely any crowd over there (compared to afa, it was quite sad to see how empty the venue was), we managed to try almost all the scents from the wicker club. i settled on morning wood (clean, cucumber-y) and horny virgin (sweet, candy-like). also got a sampler size of juicy p*ssy (tropical, mango) as a freebie!! stinky room no more!!!

yeah don't ask me about the names. those aren't even the sussiest ones HAHA.

i also just wanted to tAKE A LOOK at the caseharden holidate bags bc they were having a pop up............. but i ended up ordering one. ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) i'm now second guessing my choice of colour bc that colour was completely oos at the event so i never got to see the shade in person. the quality seemed pretty good though, and i like that the straps are adjustable. maybe i'll make a post when it arrives?? it's a preorder so it'll take a while to come.

bonus: miuA's orv merch has AR effects if you look at them through their respective instagram filters!!! insanely pretty animations!! unfortunately, they'll be removed in january next year, so i'm making this video to preserve them in my memories. (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥)♡♡♡

(why are my hands so shaky aaaa)