#ooh they look so good in those suits!!

[auroralwriting]

hi! here’s a little fic idea or something to maybe toy around with: spencer with a blair waldorf-esque partner (maybe just a similar upbringing?? idk) but yeah, maybe like the insecurity that comes from growing up like that. or like the softness in finally opening yourself up to love where you had to make yourself cold before. idk.

fashion!

spencer reid x fem!reader

an exposing gala finally reveals your hidden wealth to your team, and to spencer

word count: 2.4k / warnings: pure fluff, negative self thoughts, spencer is a sweetie and rossi is supportive dad, no use of y/n, bombshell/rich girl reader

The luxurious life you lived was one you kept hush-hush, private, and behind closed doors for all who wanted to peek in. You knew it was obvious that you came from some money. You went to Yale and got your masters from Harvard. Sometimes, you wore more expensive clothing, like classic Louboutin heels or Dior sweaters.

You kept all of your money and lifestyle private for the simple fact that you didn't want to be treated differently at work. Your teammates, friends, were your favorite people. They were all very humble, sometimes minus Rossi, and so incredibly kind. You didn't want them to assume that Mommy and Daddy bought you this job. That you didn't deserve your position in the FBI.

However, when Rossi invited the team to an expensive gala where you knew people would recognize you, you realized you were absolutely doomed.

"I have no clue what to wear to things like these!" Penelope cried out in faux agony. You and the rest of the girls were shopping in the mall, not a fashion mall, but a regular one, for clothes to wear to the gala. "I don't dress up fancily ever!"

JJ smiled calmingly, "Pen, you'll look gorgeous in anything you wear."

Your brain began to work overtime, fashion knowledge bustling in your brain at a million miles an hour. "Pink," You said. Your voice was always on the cool side, your demeanor stoic like Hotch. You were the fun one, though, and knew how and when to let loose. You liked to think of yourself as highly mature and collected. "A blush pink, not rose. Rose will wash you out."

Penelope blinked in surprise, "Really?"

"Absolutely." You nodded in confirmation.

"Ooh," Emily clasped her hands together, "Do me!"

It took you no less than a second to reply. "Dark red, burgundy, maroon. You suit a darker feminine look." You turned to JJ, raising an eyebrow. "Have you ever considered emerald green?"

JJ paused for a moment, "No, I haven't."

"You should. It would bring out your eyes." You replied with the smallest hint of a smile.

"How do you know all this?" Penelope asked, highly intrigued. "Are you some fashion goddess?"

You felt yourself fully smile, a small chuckle escaping your lips. "I've just always been really good with color-analysis, I guess." It wasn't a lie, color analysis went into profiling, and it came with growing up rich as fu-

"What are you going to wear?" Emily curiously asked, setting her hand in her head.

"I have a few ideas." You nonchalantly replied. "I think I have some dresses at home that will work."

Leading up to the gala, you found yourself feeling anxious anytime someone brought it up, which was all the time. Yes, you knew it was excitement, but it made you nervous to rationalize whether your friends would hate your or not after this. You tried to play it cool, nodding along to the conversations, but one comment really bothered you.

"God, I cannot wait to eye all those rich girls," Derek dreamily sighed, thinking about how much flirting he was going to participate in. "I hear the aristocrat-girls know how to push your buttons."

You knew Derek didn't mean it to be insulting, he was just joking, but it caused you feel a pang in your heart.

As the others continued to talk, you felt eyes boring holes into your body. It was Spencer, probably your closest friend on the team, and the guy you were hopelessly in love with. You'd never admitted it to anyone, the fear of rejection buried deep in your bones. You didn't want to lose him as a friend above anything else.

"Hey," Spencer softly whispered, taking in the look that had settled on your face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Spence." You nodded, allowing yourself to give him a sweet smile, the one that he knew was reserved for him and him only.

Spencer gave you a suspicious look. "You know Derek didn't mean it like that," He offered, reaching out to squeeze your arm.

"I know," you nodded. "Really, Spence. I'm okay."

The loss of your usual glimmer in your eyes had vanished before Spencer's eyes. He knew you better than that. Something was definitely up.

Even if he was your best friend, he found it hard to gather a good read on you sometimes. No one had ever been to your apartment, knew where you lived, met any of your family, absolutely nothing personal. You went to everyone else's places, met their families, it made Spencer's brain wrap around itself trying to figure you out. You were so open with him, yet so closed off at the same time. It was like you were hiding some deep, dark secret that you didn't want to hurt him. Nonetheless, he trusted your judgement, never prying too hard. He was too in love with you to even consider hurting you.

The night of the gala finally approached. You sat in front of your vanity, finishing up your hair and makeup. Reluctantly, you gave Rossi your address to come get you. He had hired out a limo to take the team to the gala.

As you walked outside, the cool chill of the air was a huge contrast to the heat inside, reminding you of how brutal Virginia autumn's could be. As you opened the door, you let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was just Rossi.

"I had a feeling you didn't want anyone to know where you lived," He remarked, a knowing look on his face. "From one to another, I know when someone has expensive taste. You, my dear, struck me as an aristocrat from day one."

"Does anyone else know?" You asked softly, biting your lip.

Rossi let out a huff of air, "Of course not. But you should tell them, preferably tonight."

"What if they think differently of me?" Your voice felt small, and you noticed the way Rossi looked at you with comfort. It was obvious that this was an unusual way to see you, but deep down, you were a sensitive, caring soul who played the part of the cold, badass agent too well.

"I can assure you, they won't." Rossi squeezed your hand for a moment, allowing you to buckle yourself in.

One by one, the team began arriving. They all looked amazing, of course, but the one that stuck out to you was Spencer in his classic black and white tux. Of course, his eyes couldn’t leave you, either. Mentally, you made a note of this eye-checking out, or eye-fucking, as Derek so gracefully called it.

Penelope was the last to arrive, and she gasped when she saw you. “That’s Prada!” She pointed, her mouth agape.

“My mom gifted it to me on my twenty-first birthday,” You explained, feeling relief when the team played it off as a very generous gift.

The gala was gorgeous, white, gold, and black filling your eyes. Of course, you’d definitely seen better, but it was your first gala in a few years. It was refreshing to see. The team, on the other hand, looked amazed at it all.

“This is the most amazingly spectacular thing I’ll ever witness in my life.” Penelope gaped.

“It really is gorgeous,” JJ nodded in agreement.

Even Hotch was staring wide eyed at the hall. “Hey,” Derek asked. “Why do you not look at all surprised or even any other feeling besides neutral at this? That cold?” Derek teased, unknowing of your true feelings.

Before you could answer, you heard a gasp from behind you. Your name was emphasized. You turned around to see a woman, her early forties, and the worst fucking haircut— Maggie Lowdry.

“My dear! It’s been far too long since you’ve been to a gala. Had us all worried sick you’d vanished, or far worse.” Maggie gave you an elegant hug that you reciprocated.

“I’ve been very busy with work,” You replied with a wide smile. “Maggie, this is my team. My team also includes Agent David Rossi.”

Maggie went wide eyed, “David Rossi! What are the odds Miss Heiress and my favorite author know each other, let alone are co-workers!”

You cringed at her words, sucking in a breath. Rossi chuckled, responding for you. “Not that low, for the area. Please, let me grab you a refreshment.”

Rossi gave you a knowing look, guiding Maggie away. Closing your eyes, you slowly turned around. “Look-”

“You’re rich?” Emily asked, interrupting you.

“Yes, but-”

“For how long?” Derek interjected.

“My whole life, I guess. It’s-”

“What do your parents do?” JJ inquired.

“They both own their own finance companies. This isn’t-”

Spencer’s words cut the deepest, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Covering your mouth, you shook your head, refusing to let tears well to the surface. The look on your face surprised the team. They hadn’t expected you to be so touchy about this.

“I’m sorry, I need air.” You quickly walked away and back outside to catch your breath.

“She’s sensitive,” Hotch began to profile you meticulously. “She puts on a cold front to trick us into thinking she’s someone completely different. In reality, we know she isn’t cold from how often she jokes or laughs and smiles. We know she’s hiding something, maybe a bad past. If we looked closer, we would have realized that this is why she never let us come over, or hardly went shopping with the girls.” Hotch paused for a moment, “She’s scared we’ll treat her differently.”

Emily frowns at his words, "We would never treat her differently because of her background."

"Or because she's rich," JJ added.

Hotch shook his head, "We're all lower-to-middle class. Maybe she thought we would resent her, or potentially believe we assume her parents bought her everything."

"A common stereotype for children of aristocrats is imposter syndrome," Spencer began. "Is that what.. is.."

"Reid, maybe you should go check on her." Derek insisted. "You're her favorite, anyway."

Biting his tongue at Derek's words, Spencer silently agreed as he followed in your previous footsteps. When he exited the building, he saw you sitting on the stone steps, staring into the city.

Spencer softly spoke your name, causing you to look up at him. No matter how hard you tried, Spencer noticed the redness in your eyes. "Can I sit?" Spencer softly asked, gesturing beside you. When you didn't respond, Spencer took that as an opening. He slowly sat next to you, his eyes never once leaving you. "We aren't mad at you."

"Do you think any differently of me?" Your voice was softer than Spencer ever thought he'd heard it before. You'd been with the buero for eight months, twenty six days, and thirteen hours. Even if he knew you well enough, he knew you'd done a damn good job of keeping your own secret.

"Yes," Spencer honestly answered, causing you to look at him wide-eyed as he continued. "I think you're much more sensitive and sweet than you let on to be. Sometimes, we could see the real you if we looked hard enough." You felt your heart beat die down at his words. "I think you're scared that we won't like you anymore because, what, you're rich?"

Your brows furrowed, "Is that not it?"

"Of course not," Spencer chuckled, grabbing your soft, manicured hands. "It doesn't matter if you're the President or anything less than,"

"I thought you guys would hate me," You chuckled at yourself, taking in Spencer's words. You'd been silly this whole time.

Spencer gave you a sympathetic look, "How could we ever hate you?" His thumbs rubbed the top of your hands, just in front of your knuckles. "Plus, I think we all already thought you came from a little money, that or you had incredible debt."

You laughed at his words, causing Spencer to smile brightly. "Maybe some things gave it away."

"Maybe," Spencer warmly agreed, the smile on your face making his heart soar. "Honestly, I know I only feel much better about you,"

"Yeah?" You breathed out.

"Yeah," Spencer confirmed with a nod. "I feel like I'm really starting to understand you. I really think I'm gonna love this you." He paused, taking a deep, supporting breath in. "But, I already do, so maybe that means it'll only get stronger."

Your breath hitched in your throat as your lips slightly parted in surprise. "You- You love me?"

Spencer awkwardly smiled, "Yeah, I love you."

"I love you, too." You admitted, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "I have since, like, they day I met you."

"I fell in love with you two months and three days after I met you." Spencer replied. He took note of your confused face and decided to help clear up what he meant. "Remember that case where you nearly got set on fire to grab one of the Hutchenson kids from their house fire?"

The memory came back to you in an instant, "That's when you fell in love with me? When I was coughing and covered in ash?"

"When you risked your life to save a child, even after the fact sending her to the first ambulance that arrived despite the fact that you couldn't breathe." Spencer corrected as you shook your head.

"I cannot believe that's when you fell in love with me." You admitted with a small laugh.

Spencer gave you his dorky half-smile, "If it helps, I'm falling in love with you all over again right now." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ears, "So you get a do-over."

After a moment of the two of you just simply existing together, relishing in the presence of your love, you decided it was time to go back inside. "We need to go back inside soon. Or, I do. My presence is expected."

"Of course, I can't hog you all to myself, can I?" Spencer teased as he helped you stand up.

"You can have me all to yourself anytime there isn't a gala," Spencer's cheeks grew red at your words as you internally cheered. "Plus, now I have a boyfriend to introduce?"

Spencer nodded quickly, "Yes, you do."

"Good," You smiled, slowly turning around to walk back inside. "I hope you know how to dance too, by the way. The waltz is common at these types of galas."

"Wait, what? No, no, I can't dance- hey, wait up!"

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I need to be high off my ass while deadpool fucks me. That’s it. that’s the post. Wade wilson the man that you are. Hurfgghdhhhh. yeah. weed makes me horny so definitely that…… Deadpool….. save me………….. headlock….. his arms…. ehhshhhshhhhh

deadpool headlock on drugs inspired by my last dick appointment coming right up!!

warning: intox (weed), choking, oral, daddy kink, humiliation, transphobic slurs

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

suggested listening: Gorillaz - Superfast Jellyfish (trying something new w/ poolposting!! i love the deadpool soundtrack and the vibes the music creates for each scene so im trying to emulate that. also discovered recently that this is a perfect song to smoke and get your pussy ate to 😌)

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that, sugarcunt. Speak up for me, will ya?”

“F-Feels so… feels so fucking gooooood…”

“Mm, but does it? If you’re still speaking in complete sentences, then my work’s not done. Go ahead and take another hit. Or two. Y’know what? Just finish the bowl. I’ll pack you another if you’re still too smart for my liking.”

Wade punctuated his order with a sharp smack to your cunt, sloppy with his spit and your need. His mask was pulled up just over his mouth so he could service you.

This motherfucker was trying to kill you. Or at the very least, give you some form of brain damage. Every consecutive orgasm reduced your cognitive functioning. To his credit, though, it sounded like a generous offer when he first proposed it.

“You need to relax, honey-boo. How’s about you smoke up while I go down, if you catch my drift?"

He was lying on his stomach, his chin resting in his hands, his legs in the air kicking back and forth, watching as you took rapid fire bong hits. You tried your best to burn through the bowl as quickly as you could, and you got about three solid clouds out before you started coughing. Hard.

“That’s it. You got it,” Wade cooed, stroking your inner thigh, “Just cough out all those neurons for me, good boy. Daddypool’s stupid little boy, I’m so proud of you!” He used your coughing fit as an opportunity to sneak two fingers inside you, and gawked at how you hard you clenched them. “Ooh, yeah, you got some good grip strength in you, cupcake. Squeezing those fingers like a hug from a church-going grandma. 'Am I gonna see you next week at the bake sale, honey?' Oh, yes, you will, Miss Nancy!"

What? What in the actual fuck is he yapping about? Was that supposed to be a joke? You had no mental bandwidth left to even speak, let alone dissect Wade's meandering, confusing, drawn-out metaphors for your pussy. "Wh… Wha-a-a?"

"Oh, that’s sounding much dumber, baby! Good boy!" He said cheerily, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his suit. "Seems like you’re just about ready for Daddy."

--

"Oh my god, look at you! You look so cute pinned down like this! Aw, you can’t move, can you, dummy? Nowhere for you to go, huh? Except back onto Daddy’s cock where you belong."

Wade had you on your back, your ankles on his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs as he pounded into you, over and over, deeper and deeper. So deep, in fact, it was as if he was shoving your womb up into your throat. Choking on that and a mouthful of drool, you cried out for him, pawing at his arms just to feel him close to you.

“Daddy—Da-! Daddy, Daddyyy-y-y~!”

Wade could see the desperation on your face, that yearning for closeness, and dangled it over your head. “Aw, poor baby, you need a hug? But you’re already hugging me so tight, with that—f-fucking wet honey-pot cunt you’ve got there—ah! Fuck! Ah… shit, I got’cha, come here.”

Wade withdrew his hips, leaving you gaping and empty without his cock stretching you out. He leaned down to wrap his arms tightly around you, though before you could hug him back, he flipped you onto your stomach. He pressed a firm hand onto your back to keep you lying prone on the mattress. With you trapped beneath him once again, he pushed back in.

“Ooooh, that’s it, babyboy, that’s the ticket.”

You sobbed into the pillows, keeping your sounds timid and muffled, and your dignity somewhat intact. But Wade wouldn’t let you off that easy. He hooked his arms around your neck and yanked you up into him. The pressure on your windpipe turned your moans into weak gasps and sputters. The lack of oxygen set your nerves alight, burning with hypersensitivity. And to make matters worse, he wouldn’t stop growling filth right into your ear.

“God, I can feel my balls smacking your tiny little tranny dick like this�� Can feel you twitching… So fuck—so fucking wet… Mmmm, I’m gonna shoot the biggest fuckin’ load into you... Not… not yet though… No, I’m not done with you, yet, slutter-butter. I can just… mmm, edge myself inside you… keep you nice and full… All. Fucking. Night.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

The Crew Heads with Reader: Suits

G/N. Silly. You wonder about their outfits. (Jake Kim, Eli Jang, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo). Non plot panel spoilers for 505 under cut!

Bro Code | Dinner | Shopping | Television | Gacha | Board Games | Suits

"Why do you always wear suits to fight?" You ask the four men lounging in your living room.

You hold up their dry cleaning. "A. It's costing a fortune to clean and B. Aren't, I dunno, track pants comfier?"

"I don't." Johan pipes up and you get the urge to pat him on the head. His custom God Dog designs are frankly adorable.

It is utterly charming having him show you the latest outfit he has drawn. With a logo and everything. He never explicitly asks what you think, but you know he seeks your approval anyway.

"Not you," you agree, giving Johan a warm smile that makes him avert his eyes and his ears turn pink.

The rest of the guys, Samuel, Jake and Eli exchange shifty glances at your questions.

"And there's no way-" You hold up a rag. You assume it must have been a Big Deal jacket at some point before it was torn up, "-They said they can repair this. They said I was out of my mind."

Jake had surmised it was a long shot. It was technically missing the lapels. And sleeves. And had long gashes down the back so most of it was ripped off and in tatters.

You're not wrong that it's costing a lot and he thought he would chance a repair instead of having to get a new jacket for Lineman.

You're right, unfortunately. He's going to have to look into some tracksuits instead.

"Thanks for trying," he says with a shrug.

The thing is, the Big Deal uniform just looks cool. Men in suits, who doesn't like that?

Samuel pre-Workers and pre-Big Deal also favoured suits because of how it looked. Authoritative. Like he means business. He wasn't a huge fan of the Workers white but the status that came along with it more than compensated for the colour.

Eli was convinced during the Fifth Affiliates when he was provided made-to-measure Workers suits to represent the crew. Warren and Max and Derrick didn't need much convincing after the girls oohed and aahed over it.

Except the Hostel budget didn't stretch to nice tailored suits, so they had to settle for black shirts and pants.

Still. That was cool enough.

But they can't admit that.

It's embarrassing to let you know they base their whole outfit on what looks good because truth be told, they can barely stretch in those things.

The material isn't made for high kicks and full body slams and sudden movements.  One lunge and they risk a split along the asscrack.

It's why their clothes end up torn off so often.

And yes, there has been awkward popped buttons or ripped seams during inopportune moments mid fight when even Gun Park's eyes momentarily flickered down to exposed underwear or an ass cheek hanging out.

But goddamn, the aesthetics.

"It's comfortable," Eli says unconvincingly, as you raise an eyebrow at his answer.

Somewhere to your right, you hear Johan mutter, "Liar."

[caramelcleopatraa]

Dirty Talk

Jey x Reader ! 500+ words ! Day 1

“Ungh, baby fuck~ don’t stop. Keep going.”

His shaky breaths was enough motivation for you. He looked like he was in pure bliss. His mouth was parted, head tilted back onto the rim of the couch, and hands cupped the fullness of your ass and you moved up and down.

Ooh, you riding that dick baby~”

“You feel so fucking good Jey.”

As much as you yearned for those moments when he would fold you in half and fuck you until the bed creaked, or give you backshots until your legs went weak, nothing could top the verbal back and forth you had with him during sex. The absolute filth that would be said, talking each other through it, and sometimes degrading each other if you both were in the mood for that. But talking each other through it? That always made you wetter than anything else.

“I wanna make you cum, Jey- f-fuck.”

“You’re gonna make me if you keep bouncing like that.”

A wave of confidence surged through you that the burn in your legs no longer mattered. You wondered if your voice was doing what his voice was doing for you, pushing you dangerously close to release. 

“Please keep talking to me Jey, i’m close.”

A lazy wicked smile takes over his lips, squeezing your ass harder and moving his left hand to rest on your waist as you bring each other closer to ecstasy. 

“I like how you say my name, mama.”

He would never get tired of your quiet mewls and whines instead of responding with actual words. His eyes never left yours, getting lost in your lust filled eyes. Heavy breaths exchanged in the comfortable tension. Dim lights with a beautiful view of the city lights. You clawed at his tan skin, still negating the exhaustion in your legs, letting his voice take you through a mental roller coaster and holding on for dear life.

“Mmm, well what are you waiting for? Cum for me. Don’t wait for me. Cum on this dick, Soak the couch, baby.”

Your body felt heavy. Your body and his were like magnets, sinking down for the last time, engulfing all of him. But that doesn’t mean you were done. You wanted more. You always yearned for more when you were with him. 

“My baby’s so fucking good for me, cumming when I tell her to.”

Long grinds were solving and fueling your insatiable manner, pushing yourself over that pleasure hill and even farther. His erratic thrusters were prolonging those addictive waves of pleasure that made your body convulse. And a few seconds later, Jey would follow suit, letting his body shake and jerk against yours.

“Breathe ma, Breathe,” Jey says, letting the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest talk for him after those three words. The silence was comfortable enough for you to fall asleep, but eerie enough that it didn’t let you forget what just happened. And just as you cycle through the recent memories in your head, you realized Jey was speaking to you. 

“You did so fucking good. You made me cum so hard. I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

You smiled to yourself, dragging your nails down his chest.

“Yes baby, i know~”

🏷️ tags :) @hunnidmilly @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce

@theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen

@alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae

@fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2 @murrylove

@sassginaswanmills @pixiedust4000

@shes2real @pittieprincess22 @wrestlingprincess80

@msbigredmachine @sayyestoheav3nn @trippinsorrows @mzv11

@saintmagx @jstarr86 @pr3ttiesz @trentybenty @romansthrone

@scarlettnoir01 @tshepisho @rose-bliss @yana3sworld

[lordsukunas]

jjk men & you: nail appointment!

tldr: gojo, geto, nanami, ino, choso, toji, sukuna + mahito going with you to your nail appointment.

cw: fem!reader. sukuna refers to reader as ‘woman’ once. and mahito.

a/n: this was fun lowk. might do it for jjk boys, depends on my motivation. idk if mahito particularly counts as a man, but he’s here for my mootie. time to sleep now, enjoy!!!

✿ — gojo:

first things first, he’s paying for your nails. which sounds like a good thing, until you realize he’s insisting on going along with you. he’ll pester you the entire time, suggesting colors and styles (how does he know so much?!) and then doing anything to get you to laugh or look at him. sometimes it results in your nail tech getting a little lot frustrated because he keeps making you squirm. eventually, tho, he’ll stop and let the tech finish up your nails.

“they’re cute. would’ve been cuter if you let me pick, buuuut... still cute.”

✿ — ino:

he’ll flex his knowledge about nails like it’s something revolutionary or suggest a style that he swears is completely unique, only for you to correct him and realize that it’s really just basic information. he’ll spend the rest of the appointment scrolling through pinterest and instagram, trying to find inspo for your next set.

“ooh, baby, look. these are nice, right?”

✿ — nanami:

only pays if you want him to, and only goes if you want him to. is content to let you pick whatever style you want, but likes to pick out bold colors and suggest designs based on your interests or adding charms. always tips the tech, and once your nails are done, he gently grabs your hand and kisses the back of it.

“these suit you perfectly, my lady.”

✿ — geto:

at first, he is nawt going in there. unless you find a sorcerer nail tech, he’s going to be slick the entire time. he’ll side-eye everyone else getting their nails done, judge their taste (“why would she choose that shit-brown?”), and stand up the entire time. he doesn’t want the germs. once you’re done, he’s pulling you out of there as quickly as possible.

“here, take this. ... yes, it’s hand sanitizer. you don’t want those monkey germs, right?”

✿ — toji:

only goes because you told him if he tagged along, you’d pay. in reality, he was going to go all along, just to make sure nobody tries anything. he will slap the shit outta somebody, including your nail tech. sits in a tiny chair by your side, massive head resting on your shoulder and arms crossed, absolutely knocked out. he’ll only wake up if you shrug your shoulder or if the appointment ends (he has some kind of sixth sense for that shit).

“huh? ... nah, i ain’t sleep. you cute, now c’mon.”

✿ — choso:

kind of like gojo, clingy asf. he won’t make suggestions (bro has no idea, pls bear w/ him), but he’ll praise any and every decision you make. his arms will be wrapped around your waist the entire time, earning him lots of ‘awhss’ and ‘look at them! so cute.’ tips the nail tech for “making you extra gorgeous.” his words, not mine.

“you look good, i swear. i like the colors, and the shape, and the design, and your hands...”

✿ — sukuna:

has a personal nail tech. you think he maintains them black nails by himself? no. threatens his nail tech to do good on your nails, otherwise it’ll be the last set they ever do. makes minor suggestions, but is content to sit back and let you decide for yourself. he does have a preference color, though, either black, red, or dark purple. gets a weird urge to nibble your fingers once your nails are done. please don’t ask why.

“hm? you look fine, woman. nothing rivals your natural beauty, so quit ya whining.”

✿ — higuruma:

he’s awake for the entire prep process. watching you pick your colors, decide on a design, get settled in the chair. the second the nail tech actually gets to work, though, he’s tapped out. just like toji, he’s sitting in a chair beside you, head either resting in your lap or on your shoulder. if he could sit across from you, his head would be on your chest. only wakes up when it’s time to pay (he tips!) or if something goes wrong.

“... mm? oh, those are nice, sunshine. i like the little designs, very cute.”

✿ — mahito ..?:

a lil shit the entire time istg. doesn’t care what you pick, will poke and squish and pinch and nuzzle you the whole process, annoying both you and the tech. considers getting his done to match yours, but realizes he could probably just morph the shape of his soul instead of sitting there.

“those are, like, so cute! ... no? you don’t like my valley girl accent?”

[wikiangela]

when I say I love your mind (I wanna steal your heart)

huge thank you to @evansboyfriend and @beefcakekinard for alllll the help, you're the best <3

prompt: Halloween - couples costumes rated: G tags: fluff, established relationship word count: 1.8k

[also on ao3]

“So maybe vampires? Classic.” Buck suggests, hoping they’ll finally settle on something. But one look at Tommy’s face tells him it’s another no. 

“I don’t know. It’s kinda basic.” His boyfriend says, and, okay, Buck can see that. 

“Yeah, okay.” Buck hums, taking a second to come up with something else, as he and Tommy walk through the park, taking the long way to Tommy’s car. It’s a late evening, the moon illuminating their path, Tommy’s hand warm in his. They’re just finishing up date night, and at the end of their dinner the subject of Halloween was brought up – which is what they’ve been on for the last fifteen minutes. “So I guess ghosts or zombies or, I don’t know, clowns or pirates are also a no?”

“Uh, they might be a maybe?” Tommy shrugs, but clearly he’s not very into it. 

“What about superheroes? Ooh, you could be Superman. You kinda look like him anyway.” He says, bringing their clasped hands to kiss Tommy’s knuckles. “My own personal hero.” He whispers, and Tommy laughs. Buck’s sure if it wasn’t dark, he’d see a faint blush in his cheeks.

“And what would that make you, Wonder Woman?” There’s a skeptical but amused tone in his voice. 

“Maybe.” He shrugs and Tommy doesn’t even need to say anything for Buck to know he’s not a fan. “Okay, so Batman and Robin.”

“Hm, that’s one to think about.” Tommy responds. Buck takes that as a win, but they could do something more fun.

“Luke and Leia.” He says just because maybe Star Wars will be something to agree on – though, on the other hand, that might just spiral into another disagreement they’ve had before about those movies in general, so maybe better to leave it alone. Buck loves Tommy so much, but his Star Wars opinions are… not good. He can look past that, though. No one can be perfect.

“They’re siblings. We’re not doing a sibling couples’ costume, Evan.” He says decisively, shaking his head. Bossy, for someone who can’t decide on a costume. Buck rolls his eyes, kinda fond but kinda annoyed.

“So Leia and Han Solo. Oh, or Han and Luke? To put a bit of a spin on it?”

“Uh-” Tommy makes a face – to his credit, he does try to hide it – and Buck sighs in frustration. He doesn’t even want to hear the reason for the no. He pauses, trying to think of something else, the silence always pleasant between them. Whether they talk for hours, or are silent together, in Tommy’s company every second is the most comfortable and enjoyable. Buck just feels like he can be fully himself, and lean into his silliest side. 

“We could be Venom and Eddie Brock.” He says, mostly joking, the image that popped into his head so ridiculous he laughs.

“Hm. And how would that work, exactly? One of us in regular clothes and the other in costume as Venom?”

“Yeah. You as Eddie, and I dressed in all black, on your back.” He gives Tommy a shit-eating grin when he glances at him disbelievingly. “You know, like when Venom pops out of Eddie’s back?”

“And, what, I’d carry you on my back the whole night?” He laughs, but Buck just nods. “Sweetheart, I’m strong, but I’m not that strong. Best I could do is a few minutes.” He sounds almost apologetic, and Buck needs to kiss him about it, so he presses a quick kiss to his lips, stopping them briefly.

“I know, I’m kidding.” He whispers, resuming walking. “Would be cool, though.”

“It would.” Tommy admits. Silence falls over them again, as the gears in Buck’s brain keep turning, going through every movie he can remember ever seeing, or any fun and cool couples they could realistically dress up as.

“Beauty and the Beast? I could do a yellow suit. And you can be my Beast.” Buck leans closer to Tommy, his chin brushing Tommy’s shoulder as they walk, almost at the car now. He whispers, “You already are.”

“That’s a leap from Venom.” A laugh escapes Tommy. “I don’t know. It’d be cute, but I thought you wanted scary.”

“True. We could make it scary.” He says, but then another idea pops into his head. “Oh, how about the Addams family? You know, to keep the spooky vibe.” Buck bumps his shoulder into Tommy’s.

“Well, I do love the Addams family.” Tommy nods. “Who exactly, though?”

“The best couple ever, of course. Morticia and Gomez.” He says, and watches Tommy’s face for his reaction. “And you hate it.” He sighs, and rolls his eyes, starting to get a tiny bit annoyed. It’s like the fiftieth costume he suggested, Tommy has to like something.

“No, I love it, really, but, you know, if we’re doing a couple, maybe it could be a gay couple instead?” Tommy suggests, pulling Buck a little closer to him. Well, that was the idea at first, before Buck spiraled where he is now, because someone kept shutting down his ideas. At least now he gets why some of those were a no from Tommy, because Buck thinks some were really fun.

“Yeah, sure. If we could agree on any.” He shoots Tommy a pointed look.

“Okay, any other ideas?” Tommy asks, a hint of fond amusement on his face. It’s not funny, though, they need to figure it out quickly, Halloween is right around the corner.

“Salt and pepper shakers.” He throws out. “Or ketchup and mustard.”

“Are you serious?” Tommy raises his eyebrow, giving him his signature ‘Evan’ look, version exasperated. Buck just shrugs, trying to hide a smile, the thought of his boyfriend having specific smiles and looks reserved for him making his heart swell.

“I’m running out of ideas, Tommy. Oh!” He exclaims, a new random idea popping into his head. “Tom and Jerry! Get it?” He grins, looks at his boyfriend expectantly, and sees a tired but very fond and amused smile. “Tom-my.” He drags out the first syllable, just to get his point across.

“Yeah, baby, I get it. You’re adorable, but no.” He says, and then chuckles when Buck pouts. 

“How about the emotions from Inside Out?” He grumbles, the movie popping into his head randomly – probably because he and Tommy watched it with Jee on their latest babysitting duty. They did a whole Pixar marathon. “You can be boredom.”

“Oh, really?” Tommy gives him one of his looks, and, damn, Buck almost melts under his gaze, even when he’s annoyed with him. He loves him so fucking much. “You calling me boring?” He tugs at Buck’s hand, stopping them and bringing him closer, so they’re face to face, his hands settling on Buck’s hips, Buck’s landing on his huge arms, now covered by a jacket. There’s an amused smirk on Tommy’s face. “I thought I was cool?”

“Nah, you’re not. You hide it well, but I know now that you’re just a huge dork. And very, very boring.” Buck teases, trying and failing to say it with a straight face, a smile breaking through. “And I love you anyway.”

“I love you, too, Evan.” Tommy says, his smile forming into that fond, loving ‘Evan’ smile that Buck can never resist kissing off. So he does. He kisses Tommy once, twice, the kisses soft and chaste, both smiling into each other’s lips. He’s about to go in for a third, intending on deepening it, but Tommy pulls away, face a bit more serious. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Buck frowns, not wanting or needing any apologies, genuinely wondering if he missed anything.

“For being such a pain about this whole costume thing.” Tommy explains, and Buck wants to laugh. Yeah, okay, he was a little annoyed, but it’s just a little teasing, bickering, about Halloween costumes of all things. He can take the most ridiculous things seriously, but this? Nothing to get overly upset about. He’s about to say all that, but then Tommy continues, “I don’t know, maybe Halloween is just not my thing. I’ve never really been too into it.” He shrugs, a flicker of something wistful crossing his face, but it’s gone too quickly to decipher. “But it matters to you, and I love you, and I want you to be happy. So, I’m done being a party pooper, let’s do a costume. Next idea, no complaints, I promise. Whatever you want.” He says so sincerely, but there’s a hint of a ‘I hope I’m not gonna regret this’ in his eyes. Buck grins, a random, brand new idea showing up.

“Woody and Buzz? From Toy Story.” he clarifies, as if that wasn’t obvious – and clearly it was, from the look he gets. “What? You said gay couple.”

“I don’t think they were. And I thought you wanted scary- but fine, okay.” Tommy sighs, that fond look back on his face. “I said whatever you want. You wanna be the cowboy or the astronaut?”

“Hm.” Buck takes a second to think – and realizes that, actually, there’s an even better, easier idea. “Or we could just be cowboys.” He shrugs, and then he can feel his eyes go wide as the full picture pops into place. 

“Zombie cowboys.” He says, at the same time as Tommy, though Tommy’s sounds more like a question.

“You know me so well.” Buck beams, leaning in for another kiss. “Let’s be scary cowboy zombies. See, was that so hard?”

“You’re the one with a thousand ideas for a second. I didn’t even say no to everything at first, you just went through so many it was hard to keep up. I’m pretty sure you said cowboy back at the restaurant, too, and I didn’t even get a chance to say anything.” Tommy points out, pulling away from Buck, grabbing his hand again and starting to walk, his truck already visible in the distance.

“Not my fault my brain works like that.” Buck says mock-defensively. 

“I know, honey, I love your wonderful brain.” Tommy smiles, lets go of Buck’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist, presses a quick kiss to his cheek. “And I love you, my silly zombie cowboy.”

“Halloween is gonna be so much fun.” Buck is smiling widely, excited like a kid for his first Christmas – or, his first Halloween, more like. It’s seemingly no big deal, but also it’s his first Halloween with Tommy, and he’s excited – he’s excited for all the firsts with Tommy. He can’t wait to do everything and anything with him. “Are you gonna come by the station?”

“Of course, if I can. Gotta see how scary you’re gonna make it.”

“Wanna bet I can scare you?” He asks, just as they near the car.

“In the haunted house for children?” Tommy raises his eyebrows. “Sure, you can try. What are we betting on?”

“I have a few ideas.” Buck grins wickedly, crowding Tommy against the car.

“Oh, really? Well, I’m all ears.” Tommy grins, his arms wrapping around Buck’s neck, pulling him closer. Buck smiles into Tommy’s lips, kissing him, quick but lingering.

“Well, why don’t we go home and I can show you what I have in mind?”

[read on ao3]

[ohisms]

↪ ᵀᴴᴱ 𝑀𝐼𝐶𝐾 , ꮲꭲ 2 . (  a  series  of  sentence  starters  from  season  1  of fox's sitcom ,  “ the mick ” adjust phrasing as necessary . )

damn , [ name ] , how many cars can one person crash ?

i can't help it — when i'm behind the wheel , i'm a slave to the power of the machine .

other people worked very hard to buy those cars , and now they're mine .

why you gotta put me in a cage ?

i'm not a rat , okay ?

shut up , you don't know what you're talking about .

i am NOT joking , i don't wanna do this .

guys , we don't snitch . that's it , end of story .

will you listen to yourself ?? "jUsT tElL tHe tRuTh"

[ name ] , you snitch you die !

pretty sure that was already there when i walked up .

how is this good news ?

everyone's gonna call me a traitor , like you .

don't worry about it , it was worth it .

what are you doing tomorrow night ?

just say the words , and it can be yours .

oh , it's like that , huh ? fine .

what was that ? i can't hear you ... you can't breathe ?

you better figure something out , 'cause if you don't — i'll have to go public with this .

that's called extortion , stupid !

those guys are just covering their own asses , they don't even like you .

as easily as i can save you in this world , i can destroy you .

if anybody messes with you , let us know - okay ?

with a dong like that , you'd think he'd be happier .

do i look like i'm playing , [ last name ] ?

oh , your breath reeks of booze .

i hope you have a plan .

i was up all night watching prep school movies in preparation .

there are some real evil illuminati-type vibes in here , right ?

there was a time i could see , and i have seen .

oh , i'm just getting warmed up .

we are but food for worms , gentlemen .

whose burrito did i just step in ?

get out of here , the tv's mine .

what did you do to my shirt ??

how would you feel if i ran around stealing your clothes ?

we had to kill him cause he wasn't a team player .

no more special treatment for you .

i grew up in squalor , i am perfectly comfortable in it .

[ name ] , don't you dare !

didn't know you were gonna be so weird about it .

if you decide that you don't want me around , just tell me and i will go .

you're not the only game in town , buddy , okay ?

you don't know who i hang out with .

jealousy is the reason people hate us .

you don't have to worry about labels , just like who you like .

i hope this is some sort of emergency .

you kept me waiting , so i'm gonna get right to it .

don't make this your thing , this is [ name's ] thing .

suing is how rich white people solve their problems .

i wanted to sing and show you there's nothing to be afraid of .

i'm so nervous for you ... i want to throw up and run away .

you could have me escorted out , but you have no security .

ooh , dark scary room ! you know what they call that in prison ? they call that a blind spot . great place to catch a shiv .

what kind of operation are you running here ?

you didn't do anything wrong . i was the problem , not you .

where i'm from , the guest gets the good seat .

i drink , smoke , lie , steal ... i'm drunk right now .

i will ruin him . please don't let me do that .

i'm not the one doing whatever you guys are doing ... what are you doing ?

i'm not judging , at least he's a hot mess .

it's the wolf's job to eat the sheep , so y'know ... this was bound to happen .

i will RUIN you when we get home .

i'll give it back to you in a minute , you're gonna get it back .

the suit you destroyed cost a grand !

come on , [ name ] . i'll help you get settled .

he can't know it was my idea .

she made her mean bed and she can sleep in those scratchy sheets .

woah , tough day at the office ?

what the hell did you just say to me ?

you are right ... no matter what you say about anything .

we do this all the time , but usually there's some art to it .

this is not nearly as fun as i thought it was gonna be .

you're letting a bunch of nerds pick on you with their computers ?

why don't you just systematically destroy her ?

i can see where this is headed , so i'm just gonna hit the road .

she ripped me open , stuffed me full of devastation and then sewed me back up again .

leave me alone , this is all your fault .

why are they yelling ? are they angry cause they're bad musicians ?

i will never understand your generation .

let me have it . how bad is it ?

do you have any idea what i saw in there ?

you should come and check out what's going on outside , cause i think you'll be pleasantly surprised .

i just want us to be friends again .

it would be such a silly waste of time for someone like me to be mad at someone as insignificant as you .

the truth is , i pity you .

when the universe gives you a sign , it's not up to you to ignore it .

[ name ] gave it to me . it means i'm in charge .

i'm not comfortable with the whole arrangement . where's [ name ] ?

this is outrageous ! i'm getting passed over again ?

i don't have a problem , i'm just blowing off some steam .

you wanna get in on this ?

you deserve to take a time out as much as anybody else .

sorry , i didn't realize you were the fun police .

having money has reaaally changed you .

i've lost control ?! oh no , you dumb , dumb idiot . YOU'VE lost control .

that's a gross overreaction .

i will show myself the door in a ... graceful and classy manner .

thanks for sticking around .

look , i realize i did some questionable things in there .

i just felt like the universe was giving me a sign .

i'm the only one worthy of its power !

keep it in your pants and follow my lead .

it's no offense , i just don't know you very well .

let's go over this one more time , just so we're clear .

we've already been over the terms .

what's in it for you ?

i like the element of surprise .

wasn't expecting that . are you okay ?

i saw a burglar , i didn't know what to do ... so i SMOKED his ass !

you SHOT me ! what the hell's the matter with you ?

that gunpowder's like a hundred years old , it probably just broke the skin .

what about the police ? they're expecting a gunshot victim .

guys , we've gotta move this along , okay ?

you got it , i'll get you a pillow .

you're lucky no one was killed .

here's the thing about the bordeaux ... i drank it .

i'm so sorry that you had to keep our mansion warm .

how do you think the police found them ?

if you're done criticizing me , i think i'll head on up to bed .

you want me to do the jobs no one else wants ?

can we pick this up tomorrow ? i was shot , so ... i'm very tired .

it has nothing to do with that . okay ? now please leave .

i wanted to thank you for having my back earlier .

that had nothing to do with you . i was just trying to hurt them .

it's chloroform . i found a recipe online .

[ name ] , don't come at me with that .

i was gonna do whatever it takes . i'm not a quitter.

i wanna tell you , i really do . but first there's something i need .

oh my god , you're bailing again .

innocent people don't sneak in and out of their own home .

'cause i don't like you , that's why .

i'd rather get mowed down in a hellfire of bullets than listen to you screech .

you don't have to lie . i heard you guys .

how was i supposed to know you were gonna hug me ? i didn't even know you knew how to hug .

[xllizs]

What's your favorite scary movie? ghostface! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

TAGS: Serial killer, corn maze, halloween, made up characters as readers friends, SMUT , unprotected, probably bad writing tbh (this was written in 2023, it’s been a year.) p in v, (i do not have experience in this field unfortunately so maybe not how it would feel) virginity loss - NOT PROOF READ!!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

You step out of your car into the eerie night, the grass brushing against your ankles. The cold air rushes past your body, making you shiver. You aren’t the biggest fan of this kind of stuff, but your friends wanted to go somewhere over the weekend, and since you miraculously finished all your work this week, you agreed. 

“Wait, are you guys fine leaving around, like, 8:30?” your friend, Himari hushes.

“Yeah, sure, but I kind of wanted to stay longer,” you say back, starting to walk towards the gates.

“Okay, but like, I’m still kind of paranoid because of all that Ghostface shit going around. I just don’t want to take any chances, y’know?”

You turn around and face the car, where Himari and your other friend, Keishi, are standing.

“Oh my god, if you keep mentioning it, then it’s actually gonna happen. You’ll be fine,” Keishi assures her. You nod at Himari with a slight smile. He yanks Himari by her wrist as you push open the gates of the pumpkin patch.

The sun’s glow reflects off of the field, making the lackluster grass look golden. The end of the sky fades into a deep saffron. There are a lot of people, but it isn’t too loud. You breathe in, take in the sight, and then exhale. After you pay for your tickets, you look back at your friends.

“Okay! So, what should we do first?” You ask, eyeing the seemingly endless rows of corn across from you. There’s an arch with a big sign on it that says Haunted Corn Maze at the beginning of the pathway.

“Ooh, we should do that!” Keishi exclaims, lightly jogging towards the entrance. You and Himari glance at each other before you follow suit. 

At the entrance, there’s a wooden A-frame chalkboard with a handful of warnings and disclaimers. Keishi struts up to it, and begins to read.

“Warning: the Haunted Corn Maze is not for the faint of heart. Those who suffer from seizures, asthma, heart conditions, or any physical, mental, or respiratory conditions should not enter. Anyone who enters understands that there may be dangers or hazards– okay I’m not reading all of that. Let’s just go in, I didn’t see anything on their website about it being super scary anyways.”

The three of you start to walk down the path, but you aren’t aware of the critical mistake you’ve all just made.

At the bottom of the chalkboard is written in bold letters: On October 1, 2, and 3, The Haunted Corn Maze will be closed from 7:30-11:00 PM for maintenance.

It’s 7:04, but you sure as hell won’t be leaving for a while.

…

You, Keishi, and Himari, have been walking for a good 20 minutes, running into a few scare actors. It’s gotten darker now, making it harder to stay together. The noise of fake chainsaws not only irritate you, but sometimes drown out the sound of your friends’ voices. As you’re trying to get through the maze, an announcement airs over the speakers.

“Greetings, visitors! We hope you’re having a spooktastic time, this is just a reminder that the Haunted Corn Maze will be closed in 5 minutes due to maintenance. Again, the Haunted Corn Maze will be closed in 5 minutes due to maintenance. Thank you for your cooperation, and we hope you have a good rest of your evening!”

Oh, shit.

“...You have got to be fucking joking,” Himari says in a stern voice. You all stare at each other, then start desperately trying to find a solution.

“Should we call for help… I swear to god I didn’t know… oh my god… are we really stuck… just finish the maze…” 

You all agree that you should just try to find the exit as fast as you can, and if you can’t then at least help will find you. You and your friends start running slowly down the path, panting. It’s gonna take a fucking while for help to arrive, and you don’t want any random people trying to scare you in this anxious state–

Oh. Speak of the devil.

As you turn the corner, you see someone wearing a black robe holding a prop knife. It’s weird, they’re just facing the end of the aisle, which is a dead end. You groan loudly, realizing you have to go back, when the person turns around. The turn is curiously slow. Now, you can see they’re wearing a mask, a Ghostface mask. 

“Hah, Himari, you were right, there is a serial killer,” you sneer. You squint at the figure, trying to inspect them a bit harder, but they start to move their arm, raising the knife, and–

“Oh my fucking god, it’s an actual serial killer!” Himari screams. The knife barely flew past her.

“Himari, calm down, it’s just a prop… see–” You swear, trying to calm her down. Her arms squeeze around you as Keishi approaches the knife. His shaky hands try to cover his mouth, but he’s gawking. 

“N-no, it’s real.” The air turns even colder. You feel sick, like you’re going to puke, but you feel so horribly bare inside. You’re gasping for air, but it feels suffocating somehow. You’d think that your fight or flight instincts would kick in with a situation like this, but you’re just frozen. No way. No fucking way is this real.

“Oh– oh my god, run!” Keishi wails, holding onto both you and Himari as you try to get away. Any color in Himari’s face has completely faded at this point, and Keishi looks so distraught, which hurts to see, comparing it to his usual demeanor. Do something, idiot. Anything, it doesn’t matter, just please do something. You throw yourself away from your friends and take a shaky breath.

“D-don’t,” you choke, “don’t get near my friends, bitch!” You sob, clawing pathetically at the hunting knife on the ground. You didn’t realize how scarily far the knife was thrown, until now. The figure takes a firm, sharp step. 

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?!” Himari yells. You’re glad she’s still conscious.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know, just hurry!” You yell back. It’s true, you don’t know what you’re doing, but at least you’re trying to do something, right? 

“Are you sure about this?!”

“Just go! I’ll keep him off for now, just get help, okay?” It’s hilarious, really– because you and your friends are all bawling your eyes out, how the hell are you gonna make it out of here?

Keishi and Himari look back at you before scurrying away frantically. The person in black takes another step towards you. Are you terrified? Probably. Do you think you can beat this guy who’s a foot taller than you? Probably not. Are you still going to try and protect your friends? Of course. 

“How cute,” the man in black coos, his voice muffled by the mask. You’re both taking one step at a time, waiting for the other to act. You blink, and before you know it, he’s almost right in front of you. You hurl the knife at his torso, and then run as fast as you humanly can.

��

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been stuck in this shithole, but it’s definitely been a while; the fatigue is really starting to settle in now. Constantly running around while still trying to keep quiet is excruciatingly difficult, especially when you’re being hunted down by a serial killer. You think you’ve finally lost him. It’s completely dark out now, and you’ve finally accepted that nobody is going to come looking for you. I mean, they would have found you by now, right? You wonder where Himari and Keishi are. It would kind of defeat the whole point of this if they were still stuck in the maze too. You reach into your back pocket for your phone, but there’s nothing there. You reach into the other pocket, but there’s still nothing. Shit, did it fall out while you were running?–

“I feel bad for you, you’re so oblivious it’s almost charming.”

There he is.

In his left hand is the knife from earlier. It’s covered in blood. He must’ve pulled it out. In his right hand is your phone.

“W–what– how did–” You didn’t even realize that you had fallen backwards. Get off your ass, do some–

“Are these your little friends, sweetheart?” He shows you the– oh god– 28 missed calls from you and your friends’ group chat. You haven’t been able to get reception until now, how ridiculous. You don’t have time to mope though, you need to get away from this psycho. 

“What do you want?” Your voice is strangled but still fierce. He cocks his head to the side, then looks back at the phone.

“Hm, they’re calling again,” he shrugs nonchalantly. You stare at him, terrified. How could he sound so normal about this? You start to get up, but then quickly realize it's a dead end. Fuck. He starts to walk towards you. You decide that if he comes at you, you'll try and escape from the side. 

You run towards the open space on his left. His arm moves towards your neck, the bloody knife brushing against your collarbone. 

“There's nowhere to go, doll.” 

He pushes you down, quickly straddling you so you can't move. 

“Why don’t we pick up the phone?” He questions, and you swear you can hear the grin in his voice. What a sly motherfucker. You throw your hands up, trying to get him away from you– not like it's gonna help, he's clearly built. He drops the phone to hold both of your arms together. The other hand quickly slides the knife up to your neck. “Answer the phone, and let your friends know you made it out safely, and that you're okay. Or I’ll slit your throat right now, got it?” His deep, scratchy voice shivers down your spine. You frantically nod your head yes, pleading for your life. “That's what I thought–” the phone rings. “Perfect. Now once I let go of your arms, don't fight back. You won't win.” You were too scared to, now. If you tried, who knows where the knife would end up.  

He lets go of your arms, grabbing the phone and answering it. He puts it on speaker, holding it up between you two. It's still closer to you, and the mic side is facing you. 

“Oh my god! You're alive!” Himari cries out with relief. You catch your breath. 

“Yeah, I got out,” you say, trying to stabilize your shaky voice. 

“Why weren’t you answering your phone? We were about to call the cops,” Keishi lectures you.

“I, uh– sorry, the reception was bad and then my phone died. I'm okay now,” you reassure them. You really wish you were. 

“Alright good, stay safe, we love you!” Himari says in a loving tone. 

‘Wait, guys–” they had already hung up, but you hadn't realized and kept speaking. “Please, he has me– please!” you scream out. You start sobbing, you're done for. Why did you do that? 

“Oohh, you stupid bitch.” He throws your phone. The knife that was just held up to your neck is now in his pocket. 

“No! No! Please! They didn't hear me!” You hiccup mid sentence, trying to catch your breath from sobbing. “I'm so sorry! Please, please! I don't wanna die! Please!” you're hysterical. His hand goes to your neck. Right now, he's just holding it. 

“Would you shut the fuck up? Im not fucking killing you, yet,” he spits out at you. 

His hand adjusts around your neck. For some reason he doesn't want to get rid of you. There's just something about you. He makes sure he puts pressure on the right spot, just to knock you out. 

“No! No! I'm so sorry!” You shriek out. He starts to squeeze your neck, and you instinctively bring your hands up to try and take him off. He grips both of your hands again. You’re gasping for air. You're starting to feel funny. Your vision is blurry. You– you can't get any more air.

…

Cold. It’s a lot colder than before. Am I dead? Where am I? 

Youre propped up on a chair. Your arms are behind you, tied together by something, whatever it is, it's cold, you assume it's handcuffs? Don't know. Surprisingly you can see. 

What about your legs? Can you move them? No. you can't. They're stuck around the chairs legs. 

You aren't able to talk, there's tape on your mouth.

Your visions still blurry, but you’re  trying to decipher where you are. Its dark, maybe a basement?

Clearly its not your house, so whos is it-

Then, all the memories came flooding in of what happened before you blacked out.

Fuck.

You hear somebody walking down the stairs. This time, zero robe. Is this sick fuck seriously wearing a tanktop and sweatpants? Still that stupid ass mask. You notice the bandage near where you stabbed him before. 

 Your face is soaked in tears and you're breathing so loudly. Your heart beat is so loud. The silence breaks when you hear a deep chuckle.

'`Pretty girls awake, huh?” he mocks you. He walks toward you and crouches down. “Oh yeahh, cant talk, can you?..kay’ gimme a sec.” 

Why is he talking to you like he didn't just kidnap you?? 

His hand approaches your face. You close your eyes. He gets a grip on the tape and rips it off fast. It comes off smoother due to your tears. You feel the light burning sensation and whimper. “Get the fuck away from me.” you quietly spoke. 

He scoffs at you. “Nah. Don't worry. You'll be gone soon.” Why does he say it in an assuring tone? Does he expect you to feel better? “Huh???” you start panicking. This can't be happening. He gets up and walks behind you. You follow him with your head as he starts to unlock your cuffs. The tight, cold metal around your wrists is gone. “My knife is in my pocket. Dont fuck with me.”  he tells you fiercely. You nod, if obeying him keeps you alive longer, you'll take it.

Youre free, he got your legs undone. His back is facing you, while he stands only a few feet away. This is your chance! Go! 

You spring up and the second the chair creeked his heels turn and he pushes you towards the ground.

You crash on the cement floor. Your knees automatically ache. He gets on the ground and flips you on your back. 

You are fighting back with everything you got. Moving your arms so he cant grab them. While he tries to keep your legs down, you knock off his mask. Holy fuck.

His raven hair  thats not too messy is revealed. His face and gorgeous green eyes. How is a serial killer, so attractive?

His mouth curls up, you notice a scar on it as he does. He scoffs. Fuck, you are so done, now. Your mouth opens a little from eyeing his face up and down. “You fucking little bitch. Now I really gotta get rid of ya, huh?” he says with a chuckle, acting like it's some sick joke. No, no. you really are gonna die. “Please. Please.” His hand wraps around your neck to pick you up. He leans closer to you. Only a few inches away from your face. “How should I kill you? Hm?” his head leans to the side as he has a small grin. 

Why are you finding the man that wants to kill you attractive? 

“No please. Please. I just graduated college! I have a life to live for! Please! I have so much left to do before I’d even die. Please!” you sob out. Tears coming out again. 

“Yeah?” he lowers his mouth to your ear, “Like what?” he questions. 

Your eyes widen in disgust, he's seriously asking about your future?

You stammer, “Uh- I, are you serious?” it was scary to ask, but you didnt wanna piss him off.

“Yeah.” He moves his head and is staring deeply into your eyes, “Why don't you tell me things you haven't done yet, or what you're planning? Gotta know what you'll miss out on, once I kill you.” he snickers at you. 

Your eyes widen in horror. That word, kill. You’re gonna die.

 “Uh. I mean” you breathe out shakingly, “I guess get a steady job?..and, nevermind. Finally get a boyfriend,” you really didn't understand why you were honestly telling him this, “I don't know-” 

“Nuh uh. Go back, you know you were gonna say something before that, doll.” he coos. 

That nickname. Now that you've seen his face, and you hate to admit it, it did something to you.

“I wasn’t.” you gulp. You both knew it was a lie. 

“You know I didn't believe that for one second.” He takes his knife out and you flinch, “don't worry, i ain't doing anything, yet.” he sneers. “So what was it? Your first kiss?” he starts fidgeting with his knife and his eyes light up, “Oohh, orrr.. are you still a virg-” 

“No!” you cut him off. Obviously, that was what you were going to say, but there was no point in telling the man who's going to kill you that you are. 

“Got ya!! Not very good at being secretive, hm?” he smirks.

He starts to eye you down, stopping where he straddled you. You take the chance to eye him down too. The way his shirt hugs his body. You gotta admit, he makes you wet. Your eyes run down to the tent in his pants. Is he hard? 

“So, you just really dont wanna die a virgin?” he asks

Your cheeks light up in a pink shade. “Why does it matter?” you shoot a question back at him. 

“Ehh, dunno. Personally I wouldnt mind a quick fuck, ‘specially with a pretty girl like you.” that nasty, but very attractive smirk, appears on his face again.

You break eye contact.

Was he attractive? Fuck yes. Would you fuck him in a heartbeat? Definitely. Isn't he planning to kill you? Yep. 

“Tell ya what,” He does a swift move with the knife, “If you let me fuck you, we’ll both get something out of it. You’ll lose your virginity you are so worried about, and I’ll possibly spare your life if its good. Andd, hopefully I’ll get a good fuck. Deal?” He looks you up and down.

Fuck. You mean, you'd do anything to live. And if he wasn't your killer you would accept his offer right away.

“Will I actually live?” you wonder, for all you know he might just stab you mid fuck. 

“Probably. Hopefully that wet cunt of yours is good.” he winks

“Fine. Will it hurt..?” you squint while asking, he chuckles, “ehh, you decide once you see my cock. But first, I want you to suck it. You bite and I slit your throat, ‘kay?” 

You've never sucked cock. You can barely swallow a pill. You try to remember all those stupid things Himari told you once after she gave a few guys head.

You nod at him and he gets off of you. Knife in hand. You watch as he takes his sweatpants off, revealing the large bulge in his boxers. Then, he removes them. Your eyes widen. You've seen porn a few times, and you knew, this was big. He lets out a light laugh. 

He sits on the chair you were on a few moments ago, queueing you to come towards him.

Your knees still hurt so badly, so as pathetic as it was, you crawl towards him. 

As you get between his legs, you get on your knees and wrap your hand around his cock. 

You start to stroke it up and down, spitting on it to help you lube it up. Not sure what to do, you kiss the tip, letting go with a pop noise. Circling his tip with your tongue, he grabs a handful of your hair with his hand gripping it. “That's good. Better start sucking it.” he pants out. His dick spilling with a little of precum still.

You let more spit dangle out of your mouth onto his dick and put your mouth on it. Starting to slide farther down his dick until you gag, you were gonna move back up until he pushes you down and starts bobbing your head up and down. Tears start to brickle out of your eyes and stream down your face. Remembering, you take your and stroke the part that isn't in your mouth. You play with his balls a little, hopefully not doing anything wrong. You stare up into his eyes as they fill with tears from gagging.

“Fuck, youre a fuckin’ slut arent you? You know how to work that mouth.” he grunts 

You start stroking more and he loosens his grip on your hair as you start to bob your head past you limit by yourself. “I’m gonna cum. And it's going in your mouth.” and when he says that, you swear you almost heard a whimper. You rest your hands on his knees, your head moves up and you circle his tip with your tongue one last time and put it far down your throat again. 

His dick twitches as he unleashes a load inside your throat. Without a single thought, you move your head away and swallow it. Why did you enjoy it? “Haha, swallowed it like it was nothing. This really your first time?” he breathes out, trying to get down from his high. His dick is still hard.

“That was good. Can't make any promises on your life though till I fuck that  cunt.” he has a smirk on his face.

You hated how badly you wanted to have this man fuck you. 

He stands up avoiding hitting you as you're still kneeled in front of the chair. You look to the side as if offers a hand to help you up. You question whether or not he's actually gonna help you up, but you take the chance and you're standing up.

 Once you're standing up you barely have a second to look up at his eyes staring into yours before he roughly pushes you against the wall. He pins you down, cupping your face and roughly kissing you. He forces his tongue into your mouth as one of his hands start to run down to your boob, circling around your nipple. 

He bites your lip and sucks on it before he releases and his lips move back a little, a string of salvia following him. He quickly moves down to your neck, you whimper as he bites down then quickly sucking on it. You try to contain you moans but between him playing with your nipple and sucking on your neck, you couldn't. 

He takes his knife and cuts down the middle of your shirt quickly revealing your bra. 

He rips off the rest of it and undoes your bra, letting your boobs fall out. 

He removes his mouth from your neck and starts to suck on your sensitive nipple while his other hand rubs the other one. 

“Fuck~” you moan out. His low breathless chuckle vibrates against your nipple which makes you squirm more. You don't want this to end. You bring your hand to his cock, starting to jerk him off, you move up and down a few times until he unhooks his mouth from your boob and starts to take your pants off, ripping your panties off with them. 

He exams your panties, “Fuckin’ wet, huh?” He throws them to the ground and plays with your clit but soonly he picks you up and your legs wrap around his waist, letting you lean against the wall. 

He slides his cock up and down gathering your slick to help it go in easier, smirking when you shiver every time your clit and his tip make contact. 

“Please-mmmph. Please be careful, I've never,” you try speaking but he pushes his tip in slightly, “Yeah, yeah. Your first fucking time or what not. Does it look like I give two shits?” he thrusts all of it in in one go. You scream out in pleasure and pain. The burn. Hes so deep, you swear you practically feel him in your stomach. Holy shit. 

“Fuuuuckkkkk..you're sucking me in so good.” he groans and his eye roll back as he throws his head back. He waits a few seconds until he starts thrusting in at a slightly fast pace. “Mmpp..- feels soo good!” you moan out unable to hold it back. The pain you felt before is totally gone. 

You've tried to touch yourself before, but you could never reach where he's reaching right now. So many spots you never knew would feel good. He dick kept hitting that exact spot that made you see stars each time. “Godd, you're so fuckin’ tight. You gotta stop squeezing me like that, doll. You'll make me never wanna get out.” he manages to get out between breaths. 

He picks his pace up making your tits jiggle at the same time. As he thrust in, he pushes you into a powerful kiss and forces his tongue in, smashing into yours. He pulls away from your mouth slightly and sucks on your lip, leaving a ticklish feeling, but it doesn't last long as bites down on it causing you to whimper and clench around him. “Hm? You liked that huh?” he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, raven hair strands sticking to his forehead. His eyes were so beautiful to look at, they were a beautiful green shade. 

He continues thrusting but goes harder, deeper hitting that same spot over and over again. You start to clench more as he quickened his pace again. You couldn't grasp how he had so much stamina.

“I-i…fuckk.. Please. harder. “  You knew you were close to cumming. “So close..mmppp!” you cry out. “Shiitt. Me too.” he grunts, starting to somehow go harder then he was. The sound of your body's colliding echoing throughout the room, both of your moans syncing with his thrusts. He goes harder, you were seeing stars. You couldn't believe you were losing your virginity to the man who wanted to kill you, the man who is the serial killer, Ghostface. “Cum-ughhhfuck.. Cumming!!” you scream out, your cum gushing around his cock. He continues thrusting as your orgasm, until only a few seconds later he cums inside of you. 

You both are coming down from your high, catching your breath. “Was it good? Am I gonna live? Please.” you question.

“Huh? Yeah. That was really fucking good. You'll live, but I want you around for a while with me."

written by me and @ems-interlude !!

TAGLIST: (if you want to be added, check kinktober masterlist for the form!) @slutforfictionalman @queendessi24 @tojishugetiddies @thebestgirlever2 @getosho3cakes @hotvillianapologist @taxevadingblob

[mysteryshoptls]

R Ace Trappola - Luxe Couture Vignette

"My perception just lagged hard"

[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]

Ace: Alright, it's finally the free roam time I've been waiting for! That brand-name shop looks good, and so does that one… But I think I'll have to pass on 'em!

Azul: Oh? You don't plan on visiting those stores?

Ace: I mean, I'm not anywhere close to being able to afford all those high-brand clothes. But you already knew that when you asked, right, Azul-senpai?

Ace: But it's not like I've completely given up on doing any shopping, though. I'm thinkin' about checkin' out some of the secondary line shops.

Azul: Ah, yes, there are many high-end brands that are developing products aimed at the broader marked instead of just their main audience.

Ace: Yeah, yeah. I did some digging after heading back to the hotel yesterday, and…

Ace: Looks to me like those secondary line shops have fits that suit me better.

Azul: Hm. And what sort of look do you tend to like, Ace-san?

Ace: I guess my likes reflect my usual getup. I dress pretty casual.

Ace: I like clothes that are easy to move around in, and aren't really high-maintenance. And I can't really deal with looks that are too stiff.

Ace: I'd probably say that most of my outfits have a splash of the current trends, but also have a bit of an edge to it.

Ace: On the other hand, I can only imagine you wearing pretty stiff and formal stuff.

Azul: I suppose. Of course, it does depend on the time and occasion.

Ace: Maaan, I know you got some real good sense about these things. It'd be greaaat if you could tag along and pick out some clothes for me～

Azul: Well, let me see… I do have some interest in how those secondary line brands develop their merchandise.

Azul: There's no reason for me to not join you as I observe their establishments. HOWEVER! You will, of course, be paying for yourself.

Ace: Tch. Guess he saw right through me. Suuucks.

Ace: Oh well, let's go, then.

Ace: Hmmm, where's the store I was checking out yesterday…? Oh, found it. Azul-senpai, it's over here.

Azul: The store does seem to have a grand appearance, yes… But I can see that the designs here are rather different from the signature line.

Ace: Looks pretty good, huh? Let's go in!

Ace: Woah, check out this stylish sweater! The shape's pretty good, and I bet it'd work with all sorts of outfits. And the price…

Ace: ONLY 30,000 MADOL [300 Thaumarks]! THAT'S SO CHEAP!

Azul: Calm yourself, Ace-san. Is 30,000 Madol for one sweater considered cheap to you?

Ace: ACK, WAIT, NO, THAT'S NOT CHEAP! WHEW, THAT WAS CLOSE～

Ace: After seeing all those Luxe prices set for the rich and famous, I guess my perception just lagged hard.

Ace: But I think I should be able to buy at least one thing from this shop with my pocket money.

Ace: Azul-senpai, I'm countin' on you to pick out something nice for me.

Azul: What do you think about that black blazer on the mannequin over there? It has a stunning silhouette.

Ace: Ooh, you're right. It's got a pretty slender and sleek profile!

Azul: Underneath it… How about this collared white shirt? It would probably look good with a striped tie, as well.

Azul: If you combine it with these center-pressed slacks and leather shoes, you would do well in any establishment that requires a dress code.

Ace: Cool, I woulda expected nothing less from something you've selected, Azul-senpai. Pretty formal and mature.

Ace: It's a pretty different look than what I normally would go for, but I guess I should at least give it a try.

Azul: I am pleased you like it.

Ace: If I were to buy everything that you chose for me… Urgh, that's over 100,000 Madol [1,000 Thaumarks]!

Azul: Well, this might be a secondary line, but it is still a brand-named shop.

Ace: Hrrrngh, maybe I'll do just this blazer… It's not really something I already own or anything.

Ace: And black pretty much goes with anything, so it makes it easy to come up with outfits…

Ace: It's a shorter style, too, so it might actually go for a casual look with my hoody and jeans.

Azul: That is a combination that hadn't even crossed my mind… Yet, I agree, I'm sure it would suit you immensely.

Ace: So that look would be like a combination of our two fashion senses, then.

Ace: If it's just the blazer, I think I could just barely afford it, but… My funds when I return to campus'll be pretty low…

Ace: Ooh, I have an idea! Can you let me work some hours at the Mostro Lounge?

Ace: I can be pretty good with my hands. You've seen that before, right, Azul-senpai?

Azul: Yes, of course. And we have a mountain load of tasks to be done. I look forward to your wonderful hard work, Ace-san.

Ace: …Shoot. Did I just put myself up for something I shouldn't have?

Ace: Uhhh… Hope you'll go easy on me～

Requested by @ordinaryanon.

[loveharlow]

Heyy hope you are doing well! Can you pls do Rafe as a bully and then fem/rafe sleep together.

i know you probably wanted something a little more in depth but this was all i could do blurb wise😭 Rafe isn't really a bully but more of an asshole here but i still like how it came out tho

implied dub-con, swearing

The party was in full swing at this point. No one could hear one another over the bass of the music but they continued to talk like they could regardless, the endless chatter adding to the deafening noise inside of the Figure Eight mansion.

You'd never been to a Kook Party before now. Living on the Cut for most of your life meant keggers, kickbacks, and beach bashes. Not house parties and nightclubs. Kook life was new to you but you couldn't find it in yourself to complain, really.

You'd found a good group of friends, the same ones that had drug you out of your house in the first place. Right now, you were off your rocker, mindlessly playing beer pong with one of your friends that you'd been glued to all night.

You'd just beat her in your third round, hands drunkenly thrown up in the air, completely forgetting about the half-full cup that you had in your hand. "Boom, baby! Three in a motherfucking row-"

"Yo, what the fuck?!"

Your head whipped around to find a fuming Rafe Cameron standing behind you, beer dripping down the side of his face and length of his neck, dribbling into his half-buttoned polo shirt. Party-goers started to 'ooh' around the both of you.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry-"

"Are you fucking stupid?" Your face fell at his words, morphing from one of genuine concern to a nasty, offended snarl. "Shouldn't your ass be bussing tables down at The Wreck or some shit?" He spat, using a napkin handed to him by one of his yes-men to wipe his face.

A few people laughed, the mild embarrassment making your cheeks and ears grow hot. "It was an accident." You scoffed, eyes fleeting around you nervously before tilting your chin up. "You don't have to be a dick about it..."

"Yeah, you've seen plenty of those haven't you?" He chuckled meanly, looking around at his friends with a smirk before turning back to you. "Maybe I was wrong. The waitress vibe doesn't suit you but I could see you on your knees for a couple bucks. Girls gotta eat somehow, right?" He joked, the guys crowded behind him breaking out into laughter. He leaned down, face just inches from yours as he spoke to you lowly. "Why don't you go back to the slums where you fucking belong?"

You bit the inside of your lip, looking down at your feet for just a moment before something inside prompted you to reel your arm back, splashing what remained inside the plastic red cup into his face. The people standing around watching and egging you on with cheers and sounds of amusement.

You wasted no time in throwing the cup to the ground, looking the boy up and down, and stomping off into another part of the house, less crowded and hot. "Hey!" You heard a voice boom behind you, peering over your shoulder as you walked away to see Rafe hot on your tail, ducking through the cliques of people, basically shoving them to the side.

"Fuck off!" You shouted back, picking up speed and heading for the stairs inside of the house. Reaching them, you practically bolted upstairs, as fast as you could in the mini dress you had on.

Rounding the corner, you were about to enter an unoccupied bathroom before a rough hand grasped your shoulder and turned you around, pinning you against the wall.

"You throw a drink in my face and think I'd just let you walk away?" The Cameron boy spat in your face, staring down at you like an angry bull.

"I told you, it was just an accident. You were the one who had to go and call me broke slut in front of every body as if you're some kind of upstanding citizen yourself."

"Do you know who the fuck I am?"

"There isn't a single person on this island who doesn't." You told the boy. "But I'm not everyone else. I couldn't give two shits about who you are, Rafe." You spat.

He clearly wasn't fond of your answer, using his grip on your shoulder to roughly shove you into the nearest room, shoving the door shut with the bottom of his shoe and guiding you over to the bed until he was close enough to throw you on top of it.

Your body bounced as you hit the mattress, eyes finding Rafe standing to the side fiddling with his belt buckle. You couldn't help but chuckle in your semi-drunken state. "You're seriously going to try to fuck me after the shit you said to me?"

"Try?" Was all he laughed out in response, shoving his pants down his legs and throwing off his polo shirt, the action leaving his hair messier than before.

"And what makes you think I want to fuck you?" You spat, sitting up straighter on the bed, leaning on your elbows for support. He simply eyed you down and licked his lips.

"There isn't a single person on this island who doesn't."

©loveharlow.

heads up: i added emoji anons to my blog, so feel free to send an ask to take one if you frequently send in asks!

[questionableratatouille00]

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ʙᴏᴅɪᴇꜱ (ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴏᴅɪᴇꜱ)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: Bathing suit shopping is hell on Earth. Even for Bucky.

Warnings: minor fatphobia, shame, body dysmorphia (B), lmk if anything else needs to be added.

Bucky smiled, pushing the cart as the two of you walked through the aisles. So far, you’d grabbed cereal, some fruit, some other household items, and now you were looking at swim suits. 

“What do you think about this one?” You jokingly grabbed a Bluey toddler’s one piece and held it up to your chest.

“It’s just my size.” You grinned. 

“Yeah, it’ll fit you like a glove.” Bucky snickered, playing along. Committing to the bit. 

You set the one piece back on the rack, shaking your head and smiling. You walked to your section of the store, looking through swim suits. Red ones, blue ones, even lime green ones.

“Ooh, I like this one.” You pulled one off the rack. You knew what your size was, and to your surprise, this was exactly it. Finding a swimsuit was your own personal hell, but you really liked this one. Plus, it wasn’t a million fucking dollars! A steal.

“That’d be gorgeous on you.” Bucky agreed. “But, y’know. Everything is.”

“You’re sweet, babe.” You kissed him quickly. 

You set your swimsuit in the cart. Leading him to the men’s section, you began to look through swimming trunks.

“Pineapples on a light blue background?” You offered him.

“Honey, half of those are upside down. Wrong message, this summer.” He chuckled.

You snickered, setting it back on the rack.

“Red, blue, green.” You showcased.

“The green ones look nice.” He murmured, grabbing the hanger. He felt the material, a look coming up on his face.

“What?” You tilted your head.

“The..texture on the inside. Doesn’t feel nice.” He hummed, setting the hanger back on it’s rod.

“How about this blue one?” You handed him another pair.

He seemed unsure, but then nodded. “I like these.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded again, setting them in the cart.

And that was that. 

“C’mon, babe, we’re gonna be late!” You called as you grabbed your sunglasses and pool bag, adjusting your coverup. 

When you got no response, you set the back down by the door and walked towards the bedroom. You walked inside without knocking.

“Babe?” 

Bucky jumped, before relaxing. “I—“ 

You looked at him. The trunks sat naturally a little low on his hips, and he looked fucking hot.

He was standing in front of the full length mirror, and he held himself with his arms.

“What’s wrong?” You frowned.

“I dunno. I just..don’t look good in this.” He admitted sheepishly.

“What are you talking about?” You raised a brow. “You look amazing, baby.” You walked into the room, standing beside him in the mirror. 

“Look at this.” He places his hand on his lower abdomen, below his belly button. He was a little softer right there—uncharacteristically, due to the nature of the rest of his body. 

But it didn’t look bad by any means. It was just the place where his body tended to be softer. 

“I’m looking. You look great.” You hummed.

“Babe, it’s clear I’ve gained a few pounds.” He looked at you like a kicked puppy.

“So? Humans do that. You’re still sexy and lovable and desirable.” You reason. 

“I looked better a few years ago.” He said frustratedly. 

“Babe, a few years ago you were recovering from escaping HYDRA. You were literally being starved and you were somehow muscular. That’s not normal or expected of you, babe. If anything, I’m glad you’ve gained back some weight. You were constantly not feeling well back then.” You reminded. 

He doesn’t seem convinced, but he nods. 

“You’re beautiful—whether you’re skin and bones or chubby. Neither of those are bad—what’s good is what feels the best for you, baby.” You reason. 

“Everyone’s talking about having and making summer bodies. I don’t..I don’t think this is what I should be.” He frowned. 

“Baby—that’s all just bullshit made up by stupid influencers. Your summer body is the body you have. Every body is a summer body. And a good body, babe. I mean it.” 

He nods slowly. “Thanks, doll. I love you.”

“I love you too. Now let’s go, or Tony’s gonna be on my ass about being late to his pool party.” You take his hand and lead him out of the bedroom. 

graphics by @thecutestgrotto

If you enjoyed, please reblog and/or comment! I love to hear your thoughts 💕

A/n: yes I know it’s August and the bulk of summer has passed but still. still

[weird-is-life]

Ooh maybe Aaron x sunshine!reader?? When he finally introduced you to the team, they’re a little surprised at how happy you are, but overall just glad that you make Aaron so happy and make him motivated to actually come home at reasonable times? :,) or maybe reader makes the team little bracelets/keychains for the first meeting too LOL

Hii lovely, ty for the request🥰! Hope this is okay, fluff, (0.8k)

The team noticed that something about Hotch has changed and they noticed it sooner then later.

He leaves the work earlier (still very late, but at least a bit earlier). He looks more relaxed, no tensed shoulders in sight anymore and more importantly, he looks so so happy.

So it's honestly no surprise, that the team guesses the obvious and makes Aaron invite you for a dinner night at Rossi's.

So he does, which leads you to stepping in front of Dave's door nervously as you wait for him to open the door. You are dressed in very radiant colours, that are in big contrast with Aaron's black suit, even if you've tried your best to match with him tonight.

"It's okay, they're going to love you," Aaron reassures you, when he notices your nerves. He squeezes your hand that's in his in reassurance and gives it a quick kiss.

And right as he does that, the door opens revealing Dave there.

"Hi," you immediately greet him, your nervousness not preventing you from smiling at him.

"Hey you two, we were wondering,  when would you finally show up," he teases you for coming late. It's your fault you guys came late, because you couldn't decide what to wear, you wanted to make a good first impression and Aaron sweet as always gave you all the time you needed.

"Come on in, don't want you guys to freeze to death out here," Dave ushers you inside before you can even introduce yourself to him.

But that thought is gone the minute you take a step inside, because suddenly there's people introducing themselves to you from every direction.

Even if it's a lot to take it, your smile never drops as you greet everybody.

"Oh," you say after you've been introduced, "I forgot something in the car, I'll be right back." And just like that you are out of there, but the happy mood, that you've brought with you, lingers in the room even without you.

All eyes move from you to Aaron and he raises his brows in question at it, "what?" He asks, almost annoyed.

"Hotch, where have you found her? She's like a literal ray of sunshine-" Penelope starts.

"Or more like how did you manage to make her go on a date with you?" Derek pokes fun at him, but to be honest, everybody has the same questionon mind.

"Well, she was the one to ask me on a date and I couldn't no, even if I wanted to, which I didn't," Aaron replies, like it's no big deal.

"What? She asked your grumpy ass out?" Derek's eyes go wide. He would have never guessed that you, the sweetest person he's just met, asked Hotch out. Aaron just glares at him, but doesn't manage to respond, because you are back.

"I've brought you guys this," you pull a big box filled with all different kind of cookies out of the bag. The team quickly notices, that in the box are everybody's favourite cookies.

And if they thought they liked you before, now, they adore you like three times more.

"Wait, are those-"

"Yes, I hope, I did them right. I had to use some online recipes, so I'm not sure they'll taste good-" you start rambling, cheeks going a little red. You've asked Aaron shyly about team's favourite cookies the minute he invited you to this dinner.

"Are you kidding? These are great, can you come to dinner every time from now on? Oh my gosh," Penelope squeals and she grabs your arm with a 'come on, we've got a lot to talk about' and drags you towards the other girls.

You chat happily with them the whole evening, while Aaron looks lovesick at you the whole time and every now and then you look at him and grin big at him. Clearly enjoying yourself and seeing you this content with his closest friends, basically his family, makes Aaron's heart go crazy.

"She's very lovely, Aaron. I'm so happy for you guys. You deserve this, " Dave whispers to him, sometime during the dinner, " it's clear that she makes you happy. Try not to mess it up."

"I won't," he replies with a certainty, Aaron will try to do everything he can to make this work, because he doesn't think he can remember being this happy ever. And he doesn't think he would ever feel happiness again if you and him didn't work out. You are it for him, he knows that.

"Good. " Dave pats him on the back.

You two are the first ones to leave, because you are tying to make sure Aaron sleeps properly. And when the team hears this explanation from you, they almost melt from the cuteness of you two.

And when they see the smile painting Aaron's face as he leads you towards the car, they know Aaron is a goner for you, which they can't blame him for.

[delta-pavonis]

Ooh, from the wip game: former mafia hob :D

I know I have posted bits and pieces of this in various places on Tumblr and Discord, but below is probably the largest segment of the WIP I have ever posted at once. And this is maybe about a quarter of it? It features an OC that I made up and then it turned out I was prescient because in my head Sandro looks pretty much exactly like Ethan from Maneskin. Also, to no one's surprise, this gets NSFW at the end. (WHAT?!? SMUT?!?!?! FROM MEEEE?!?!?!)

"And this guy, this Burgess, just had him locked in a giant glass sphere in his basement!"

"A human? Wouldn't he need air?"

Hob was in an ex-pat bar on the south end of Okinawa, doing a very good job of continuing to live completely off the grid just as he had for the past eight years.

The old man started up again and Hob strained to hear him across the length of the bar. "He just looked like a human. I worked there sixteen years and he didn't age a minute, hell he barely moved. I heard Burgess bragging once about how it was the God of Dreams that he caught! All I know for sure is what I heard directly, which is that Burgess kept asking him for things – magic, money, immortality – and the pale fucker just kept glaring at him. Never spoke a word. Just stared daggers with those unearthly blue eyes. I am telling you, if looks could kill, that old bastard would be dead thirty times over. Whenever that fairy King or whatever the fuck that shaved panther of a human-looking thing is gets out…" The guy whistled, leaning back from the bar and shaking his head. "The entire Burgess family tree is going to burn."

This man had Hob’s full attention now. He grabbed his drink and moved around to sit on the barstool next to him. 

"I am sorry, where did you say you are from?" Hob asked, trying for casual, sizing up the ex-military guy. He had a muddled accent, but with a heavy dose of south London. His salt-and-pepper hair had been kept buzzed even though he had clearly been out of the service for a long time. 

"What's it to you?" The man was immediately bristly, crossed his arms over his chest. He was defensive and closed off and Hob was going to need to work to get more information. Hob sighed. Or take the easy way out… just pay him for the information.

The Okinawan summer was too hot for this. Hob would give it one shot, try to explain, but if that didn't work it was Plan E for Easy. "I have an interest in the supernatural. And you certainly seem to have seen something. Could I ask you a few more questions?" The old-timer just stared at him, completely deadpan, unblinking. It made Hob take a sip of his whisky with its melted ice and then press the glass to his temple. "I can pay you for your time."

He perked up immediately after that.

> > > > > | | < < < < <

Two days later – and after an exchange of enough money to set that old-timer’s family up for generational wealth – Hob was settling into his Business Class seat on the long haul from Tokyo Haneda to Rome Fiumicino. He tapped out an email telling Gio his flight to Palermo was going to get in at 08:20 and would he be so kind as to send around a car? He needed to stop and see il Barone first (because his knee was bad enough as it was without getting kneecapped for failing to pay his respects) and then straight to the grotta. And make sure the shovel is in the car? Grazii.

It was his Stranger. It had to be. The description was uncanny. And the quick sketch Hob had drawn on a bar napkin had resulted in a rather emphatic positive identification.

And even if it wasn’t his Stranger, there was something being kept in that basement that probably needed rescue. There were paltry few things in the world, as Hob had learned over the centuries, that deserved to have their freedom completely taken from them.

Almost 22 hours after sending that email to Gio, Hob stepped out into the salty Mediterranean air of Palermo and sighed. His white linen three-piece suit with light blue shirt fit the aesthetic of the region as much as the weather. The smells, the breeze, the sounds – yeah, okay, Hob had missed it. But this was no time to linger. Focus, Hob! First, he had to give his regards to Salvatore and then he could go dig up his stash from his time in the Family Business. He put on his hat and dark sunglasses and walked out into the sunlight.

In the aftermath of 1889 Hob had, unsurprisingly, a lot of anger and frustration to work out. He ended up falling back on a reliable skill set he hadn't tapped in awhile: violence. 

It was bare knuckle boxing first, which earned him enough money to leave for the States without disturbing his securities in the UK. He continued with underground boxing for a bit, because he was fucking good at it, until he got noticed. 

Hob got picked up by Giuseppe “the Clutch Hand” Morello and Ignazio “the Wolf” Lupo and the rest was history. 

First they took him in as a base-level associate, just another meatheaded guy who could fuck people up for them. And he made it to the Castellammarese War, which was as good a time as any to fake his own death. 

But, by pure happenstance and a whole lot of luck, Salvatore D’Aquila caught him in the act, pig's blood everywhere, mutilated body that clearly wasn't Hob at his feet and well. That had required a bit of explaining. Explaining lead to talking, talking lead to negotiating, and suddenly Hob was heading upstate to train with the best.

And so it was, with some excellent mentorship on handling firearms and his innate knack for getting himself out of trouble, Hob became one of the most feared associates in Cosa Nostra. 

In fact, he became The Associate. 

See, he was never going to be a made man; he didn't have the proof of a Sicilian, or even Italian, heritage that he needed to be a ranking Family member. But any capo worth his salt wasn't going to turn away this level of skill and finesse. 

And in return they had kept his secret. Mostly because they knew they had given him the means to kill them all if it was otherwise.

Well, it wasn’t like the entire Family knew. Just Salvatore and his immediate blood relations. Who he needed to stop and say hello to first, then to business.

Once the meeting was done, he headed to the coast. 

When Hob left the Family Business he had literally put all of his gear into an air-tight oak box and buried it. One of the things Hob had learned over the centuries was that, more often than not, symbolism mattered. So it wasn't a surprise to find that when Hob opened the wooden box with a crowbar it was like seeing good friends come back from the dead. His shotgun. His sabre. His pistols. 

He buried these along with his career in Cosa Nostra in 1998. It should have been earlier, but the six or so years after 1989 were a bit of an alcohol and cocaine tinted haze and it took him another three years after getting sober to work on his exit strategy. But once he was out he had abandoned it all and never looked back.

In fact, it was only in the past few months that Hob had let himself pick up a gun again to do some target shooting. Suddenly he was very glad of that coincidence.

After filling his duffle Hob stared down into the empty casket of his former life. He had never, ever expected to be in this position again, most certainly not less than a decade after abandoning it. 

Crouched amongst the sand and the rocks of the beachfront cave, he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and sighed. "The things I do for you, Stranger." He closed the lid. 

"Ti Umbra?" Sandro had been watching Hob silently up until now. Even as a little kid, Alessandro had called the thing that haunted Hob his Shadow. He was an eerily perceptive child, often ostracized from his peers because of it – which of course meant that when Hob had arrived in Sicily in the early 1980s they had become easy friends. Now in his early 30s, Sandro was mostly a driver, but knew his way around a weapon, as any son of a Don should. Hob had hoped he would leave, go to college, get out, but Hob never did convince him to. He was a good kid, he didn't deserve this kind of life. 

"Si." Hob put his hands on his knees and levered himself up. "I think that he needs my help." A sigh as he kept staring at the box. "Am I that obvious?"

"Only to me, Bettino." The nickname had come from the diminutive of the diminutive of Roberto, which Sandro’s family knew Hob as. It was an endearment used only between them. "Only He could bring you back to this, to the Family." Hob felt the other man's hand on his shoulder and laid his own over it. The feel of those fingers was achingly familiar. "Let me come with you. You should not go on the rampage you are about to embark on alone, my friend."

Hob picked up Sandro's hand, placed a kiss on the knuckles. "Not a chance. I won't put you in such danger. And I won't let you see me like that." Alessandro hadn’t even been born yet when the Associate was working hardest, in the heydays of Murder, Inc., and all that entailed, when Hob rarely had a night when he wasn’t washing the gunpowder from his hands.

Sandro laughed. "I have seen you every other way, why not this one?" His arms went around Hob's shoulders from behind and he moved his lips to the shell of Hob's ear before dropping into Sicilian. "One more go at it? For old time's sake? Last chance to use me as His stand-in." He laughed even more at Hob's sharp inhale. "You think I didn't know? Oh, Bettino." He nuzzled into the hair at Hob’s nape. "That's how I was able to pretend you really loved me."

"Sandro!" Hob pushed away and whirled around, looking over his former lover’s dark hair and olive-bronze skin, high cheekbones and pouting pink lips, wiry build and black-brown eyes. Not wanting to misspeak, he answered back in English. "I did – and still do – really love you, you know that."

"Yes, but not as you love Him." Sandro shook his head as he moved in to press their foreheads together, arms back around Hob's shoulders. "You would not come back to the Family for me. You would not go to war for me. And that is okay. I know my place. I made my peace with that years ago, when you left." He leaned in to speak against Hob's lips. "But I would ask if you would have me one last time." 

Hob let Sandro pull him to the ground amongst the rocks inside the small cave. Hob's shirt and vest were already discarded, his sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned. He unbuttoned Sandro's shirt and pulled it down so it caught in his elbows, draped down his back low enough for Hob to run his lips over the huge tattoo of Santa Rusulia – Patron Saint of Palermo, invoked for protection in times of plague – wearing a crown of roses and standing amidst a copse of lilies outside a cave not so different from the one they are currently in, looking out to the sun setting over the sea, that covered his entire back. Hob drew that image, originally charcoal on paper, while they were sitting on the beach watching the sun set on Sandro's 19th birthday in the early ‘90s. He didn't know that Sandro had even saved the picture until a shootout a year later had Hob ripping off the young man’s shirt to stop the bleeding and found the image permanently inked into his skin. 

Sandro knew more about Hob than anyone living. They had spent four years as lovers in the mid-'90s. Hob had gotten sober for Sandro. He had left Cosa Nostra for Sandro, had begged for Sandro to come with him. But he was too scared of his father, Salvatore “the Baron,” to leave. He was worried about the fate of his mother, his sisters. Hob couldn’t begrudge him that. It still stung.

Hob shucked Sandro's pants down his thighs and moved his hand around to his ass, thinking that he would tease him dry before trying to find something slick back in the car. Instead, Hob's fingers found warm, flat silicone. He slumped forward with a moan and his forehead hit between Sandro's shoulder blades. "Oh fuck, Sandro. You have been full with this the entire time?"

"Ready for you, Bettino." He sighed, soft and sweet as candy. He let out a high-pitched cry as Hob slowly pulled the plug out and Christ it was huge Hob would be able to just…

There was a thmpt as the silicone object hit the dense sand a few feet away, flung aside as Hob frantically tried to get his slacks down as quickly as possible. As soon as his cock was free Sandro's hands were reaching back to grab it, lubricant that the horny little weasel must have been carrying in his bloody pocket smeared all over his fingers, readying Hob to just…

Sandro sat back and Hob slid into him to the hilt, all in one stroke, easy as breathing, smooth and perfect. 

They stayed that way for a long moment, readjusting to each other. The first movement was Hob's hands stroking from Sandro's thighs up to his chest then pressing them together. When they started rocking Sandro let his head fall back with a sob. 

"Did you keep your hair long for me, too?" Hob wrapped the waist-length ponytail around his fist and tugged. It made Sandro moan just as sweetly as it had all those years ago. "That's it, sing for me, bell'uccellino." He snapped his hips up and Sandro wailed; he always was such a vocal lover, his pretty bird.

[sawpaingsheadband]

CD Drama Translation: Story 1

Setting: one of those VERY EXPENSIVE grilled meat restaurants, where they serve you meat to grill at the table. I am assuming it's set before the Kengan tournament starts, it doesn't seem like Cosmo and Seki know Ohma and Kazuo yet. Also, Cosmo here seems to be still not of legal age for alcohol, so still 19 years old.

Main characters: Yamashita Kazuo, Tokita Ohma

Secondary characters: Sekibayashi Jun and Imai Cosmo

Original video here, minutes 0:00 to 6:55

Translator's notes: the transcript had some things missing, so I had to keep my ears sharp for any piece of dialogue (I am considering actually writing the person who uploaded the original video, but I am kind of chickening out of this at the moment). Nevertheless I could understand pretty much everything, although I have had some troubles understanding what Yamashita Kazuo is saying when he shouts/panicks, but nothing I couldn't understand with a bit more listening. I apologize if there are inaccuracies, both Japanese and English are not my languages, but I have tried my very best.

Translation under cut!

Pleased to meet you, everyone.

My name is Yamashita Kazuo. Today I have treated Ohma-san, who has been helping me out, to a meal and for this I took him to a grilled meat resturant.

Kazuo: Ex-ex-expensive!!! What are these prices??? Is this a luxury restaurant*??? Dammit, I completely made a mistake in choosing this shop, how stupid of me, I went to the wrong restaurant!!!

Ohma: What's up, Yamashita Kazuo, you look gloomy.

K: Oh, oh, no problem at all! Ohma san, feel free to order your favourite things! (I can't say no to Ohma san now that we are here... Well, it's fine, it's a pity that I just received the winter bonus... Eh, it's fine, maybe, it's fine...)

O: Oh really? Then let's order quickly. For now, I'll have 10 servings each of the specials: short ribs, special quality roast, and special quality skirt steak.

K: *panicking/sarcastic* Let's steal a 300.000 Yen car and eat all of the meat then!*

O: Since I'll try and eat different kinds of meat, I will order the ones I like.

K: And you'll have 10 sdervings each...

O: why? Do you want me to make 20 servings of each?

K: Nonono, it's all good! (Ooohh, I wonder if I'll make it to summer...)

***.***

Cosmo: hey, have you heard, old man? THe guy next to us ordered 10 servings each of the short ribs, special quality roast, and special quality skirt steak! What a wonderful meal!

Seki: Ooh, he's quite the misunderstood* guy! He's suited to be a Pro Wrestler!

C: oh, old man, pro wrestling is all you think about! Anyway, let's order something else!

S: Alright! Then we'll order 10 servings of misuji and 15 servings of round tip*!

C: YEAH! It's becoming a feast!

S: you're young, so eat a lot*!

***.***

K: So that was it... We ordered a total of 30 servings. I felt like reaching the gates of Heaven.

O: It wasn't a lot... I really should have ordered 20 servings of each.

K: YOUUU!!! How much do you intend to eat?!

O: Alright, let's order some more, Yamashita Kazuo. What do you want?

K: uuuhhh... I'll take rice, kimchi, namul*...

O: What? Don't you want meat?

K: Ah... Well... I'm on a diet...

O: You should have a proper meal Yamashita Kazuo. Alright, I am encouraging you to have meat!

K: wait, WAIT! Ohma san, I am REALLY okay!

O: this Chateaubriand they have is nice... Are you eating Yamashita Kazuo?

K: Eh? Chateau- Chateau- Chateau- Chateaubriand??? Also, yellowtail is the rarest of fillet meats! I am not a master though! I'm just repeating what I read in a gourmet magazine.

O: for now shall we order 20 more servings?

K: really are you ordering 10 servings more...

O: well, I am tired of eating red meat. I will order 10 servings of rib eye.

K: Nevertheless... Why such big servings? Are you afraid of lo0sing meat?

O: Come on, Yamashita Kazuo, eat up!

K: oooohhh the bonus... My bonus... is gone...

***.***

C: hey old man! the man next to us is ordering meat by kilos!

S: Ahahahahahah isn't it glorious?! I want him as my student!

C: Ah, you only think of this! More importantly, we ate all the meat!

S: Hey Imai! Don't lose to the man next to us! I'm ordering 2 lots of tongue* for us!

C: 2 lots?! This is the first time I see someone order this much!

S: THere's already ribs on the plate! And also! Gimme the beer!

C: YAY! There is a lot of meat!

S: Keep eating, you'll become big! Ah, but no beer until you are of legal age!

C: Old man... You are so funny, but also very serious at times.

***.***

K: Uuuhhh... The mountain of meat has gone... I put on an aeon of kilos... How does this man's stomach do...

O: hey, have you heard, Yamashita Kazuo? The people next to us have ordered in BLOCKS.

K: I arrived at a yellow belt, yet Ohma san looks like a machine...

O: Alright, should I order more?

K: WAIT; Ohma san!!!

O: what's the matter, Yamashita Kazuo?

K: well, eating a lot is not good for your body, right? So shall we stop here?

O: oh, is itlike that? They say you should be full only at 80%.

K: I am saved... It was a close one... Somehow I made it...

O: So we can order desserts.

K: Eh?

O: so I will order 1 kilo of snowballs and 1 kilo of senmai

K: what, a kilo of snowballs and senmai as desserts?

O: Also, Japanese high-quality stone-grilled bibimbap, special cup, and top-quality wagyu beef nigiri.

K: ehhhh...

O: Ah, there it is, Yamashita Kazuo, ice cream too.

K: *heavy breathing*

O: feel free to take anything.

K: Farewell... Winter bonus... *wind noises*

____

*: the word is mise/ten, which means shop, but you would not define a restaurant like a shop, I think.

*: this one was a bit nebulous, I guessed it was like a way of saying that the whole thing was a robbery lol

*: the word is "gokai", which actually means "misunderstood". I guess Seki here is trying to compliment Ohma, so I don't think he's meaning it in a bad way.

*: misuji and shintama (round tip) are both cuts of beef.

*: the word is "dondon", which means "continuously"

*: I believe namul is a Korean dish, pls correct me if I am wrong.

*: another cut of meat, specificallyt the animal's tongue. I personally don't like it, but if you do it makes very good meals.

[lucienne-my-beloved]

Hello my love! I have a prompt for you which will hopefully be a good one!

Due to a certain situation involving the key to Hell, the Dreaming is hosting a vast party of Gods and Goddesses, Angels and Demons, and strange beings of Order and Chaos, to name a few.

Lucienne, being second in command, has been busy making sure everyone is comfortable, putting together the preparations for a successful banquet, and making sure no unwanted guests mess up her precious library.

Finally the days events have come to an end, and the guests have settled down in their chambers (although Lord Morpheus will be busy throughout the night). Lucienne just wants to put her feet up and read a good book - Roses latest novel looks quite thrilling! - but her night isn't quite over, as someone has come to visit the library out of hours, and Lucienne is perhaps in for more thrills than just Roses book!

Ooh, thank you for the excellent prompt! Who could it be?

Lucienne’s feet were finally up, and she’d just opened her book to the next chapter, when she heard unfamiliar footsteps in her library. It was not Gault, whose footsteps were as familiar and beloved as the dimple when she smiled, nor Morpheus, whose footsteps were silent when he visited as a cat and only barely less silent in his other forms. And it was definitely not Mervyn, whose footsteps were always accompanied by muttered swearing and the clatter of ladders or buckets. (He didn’t work this late anymore anyway, since Matthew introduced him to the idea of unions and time off.) Lucienne sighed and resigned herself to putting down her book. One of the guests must have wandered into the Library, or perhaps there was a dream or nightmare who needed counsel, but in any case, her day was not quite over yet.

Page number memorized, she put her book down on her desk and stood, facing the sound and pulling on her suit jacket once more. Might as well look official.

It was not hard to find the visitor. The grace of their steps made it apparent that they could tread silently if they wished, and only made their footsteps audible to give her warning. The slave of Lord Kilderkin, Manifestation of Order, approached carrying the cardboard box that was the current incarnation of their master.

“Welcome to the Library,” Lucienne greeted them with a slight bow.

“I thank you,” answered the slave. “I have an interest in Order, as you might imagine, and wondered if I might see how you manage to effect it here, in the Dreaming.”

“Of course! I’ll give you the tour, shall I?”

“Wonderful! I’ll just…” and the slave set their master (the cardboard box) down on Lucienne’s desk. “It’ll be safe enough here, right?”

“Certainly. I get very few visitors at this time of night.”

“Excellent. Now, I’ve been very curious about the categorization system you use in this Library. Surely it must be very difficult to find things back.”

“It’s actually not a problem, generally.” Lucienne waved her hand at the nearest corridor as they began to walk. “You see, early on I realized the recursive nature of categorizing information, how every branch divides into smaller and smaller categories, becoming more and more precise. And having recently been a raven, at the time I became librarian, I was reminded of the design of my feathers — one main shaft, with barbs coming off it and barbules off those. So I designed the Library in a similar way…”

“Fascinating! And that works well for you?” The slave didn’t seem sceptical but inquiring, as if he might try to implement a similar system somewhere.

“In fact, it does! In almost all cases. This section here, the Tumblr section, is a bit of an exception. I can never seem to find what I’m looking for here. But I have a feeling that’s a characteristic of Tumblr and not an issue with my system.”

“Ah. I would not know. The Lords of Order have no familiarity with Tumblr.”

“I would expect not. It seems to belong more to the realm of Chaos.” The slave nodded sagely and seemed to almost regretfully put aside their curiosity about the Tumblr section.

Just then, Morpheus streaked past them in his cat form. (Lucienne secretly thought of him as Meowpheus when he was in this form. But she’d never tell him that. Maybe she’d tell Matthew one day, if only she could trust him to keep it to himself.)

“Oh! A cat!” The slave was obviously startled to find an animal in the Library.

“Yes! It is not uncommon in some places for libraries to keep cats. In fact, here is the section on library cats and other cats who have jobs.”

“Fabulous!” Lucienne waited attentively as the slave browsed the shelves and eventually chose a couple books to borrow for the night. One was on library cats, and the other on library design and information categorization.

“Let’s just bring those back to my desk to enter in the Ledger, and you can pick up your master as well,” she suggested when they were finished.

“Of course. Thank you for the lovely tour, you’ve given me much to think about.”

“You are very welcome.” Lucienne smiled warmly but then turned to follow the guest’s eyes at the sudden shocked look on their face.

On her desk was the cardboard box, Kilderkin, Lord of Order. Sitting in it was Meowpheus. He stared at them with his haughty cat gaze (well, his normal gaze), obviously perfectly content with his place and in no mood to move.

“I. You. Um.” The slave looked at Lucienne in panic. “The Library Cat can’t just sit in the Lord of Order!”

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized smoothly. “I’m sure he will find his way to another comfy spot, Quite Soon Now.” She glared at Lord Morpheus, and he glared right back. But then he deigned to stand and saunter out of the box, shaking his back leg to show his disdain of her before leaping off the desk and onto the nearby window reading nook where his cat nest was.

The slave shakily picked up the Lord of Order, reaching inside the box for the note which had appeared.

“Get this cat out of me,” it said. “We are done here.”

“I’m sorry, Lucienne, I must go,” the slave apologized, bowing deeply.

“Of course. I’ll hold onto these in case you can come borrow them later.” She set the books aside on her quick reference shelf and escorted him out of the Palace to ensure no other offences would occur on the way.

Back in the Library once again she hesitated before picking her book up, looking at Meowpheus in his window nest.

“Really, my Lord,” she chided.

He blinked his cat eyes at her, looking smug and extremely proud of himself. She sighed and picked up her book, hiding behind it to roll her eyes. She might never fully understand the King of Dreams, but they had a good understanding.

[thethirdromana]

Points of Departure!

Ooh, there's a new guy. Unsure about him.

And a new intro! I'm trying to stay open-minded here but I DON'T LIKE IT. Sinclair definitely had a better voice for this.

"The year the Great War came upon us all". The what now. The Great what??

I'm enjoying all the helpful exposition for people who haven't seen season 1, but it's interesting that "We still don't know what Ambassador Kosh looks like inside his encounter suit" is on the list. Clearly this is important in some way. But also, Ambassador Kosh hasn't seen you naked either, Ivanova.

I'm intrigued to find out if the new Sinclair-the-ambassador storyline will play out entirely in Sinclair's absence. Given real-world events, presumably?

I really enjoyed Sheridan being interrupted in the middle of his tedious good luck speech.

"Hi," said Lennier, "would you like me to explain a season's worth of mysteries for you? Grand, so."

Those were all the answers I thought we would get at the end of season 1.

At least I understand why season 1 had so many soul-themed episodes now.