#selling sunset au

[homosociallyyours]

It's been a minute since we've talked about this but I would love to read a fic from you in the Selling Sunset universe!

HI HI HI

thank you for this!!!

I can't tell you how I squealed when I read this idea!!! The office intrigues!!

I picture Harry throwing the most elaborate, over the top open houses: Veuve with a View-- Veuve Cliquot and caviar at her 6.5 million dollar listing in the Hills; the Baller's Ball-- a black tie masked ball style open house in the 22 million dollar former home of a former NBA legend. She's at the top of her game until the return of one of the most successful realtors in the history of the Oppenheim group returns.

Louis Tomlinson is no nonsense and no frills, with less fanfare in her open houses. But somehow she manages to close every. damn. deal. It's probably her stupid sexy British accent or something, Harry isn't sure.

At first Harry talks shit behind Louis' back in an attempt to get the other women to dislike her, but unfortunately it keeps not working out. Finally Louis corners her after a big party celebrating the new office renovations being completed. They're out on the street, Louis having followed Harry to her car because she's' determined to get this settled between them.

--

Harry felt the sweat starting to gather between her breasts in the muggy August evening, vaguely wishing she hadn't left the coolness of the air conditioned building without making sure Louis was gone first. Not that she could've predicted Louis would choose this moment to have a showdown with her. All she wanted was to get in her car and drive home with the windows down, nothing but the sound of the wind rushing in her ears to keep her company.

"Are you even listening to me?" Louis asked, arms crossed in front of her. They pushed her natural breasts up enough to draw Harry's eyes to her cleavage momentarily as she tuned back in.

"Yes," Harry scoffed. "You asked what my problem is."

"And?"

Harry watched a bead of sweat roll down Louis' neck, snaking its way down into her cleavage. She huffed, frustrated at Louis forcing her hand like this.

"Should I take my shirt off, or are you enjoying the view enough as is?" Harry jerked her gaze up to find Louis smirking back at her, blue eyes practically dancing with mirth.

"I wasn't-- I just--" Harry sputtered, wondering how to pull back some control. "I'm not a lesbian."

"Neither am I," Louis said, shrugging. She moved toward Harry, reaching out to touch her wrist. "Does it matter?" Harry couldn't formulate a response, her brain going offline with Louis' proximity. "I'd rather we fuck this stupid tension out now than let it turn into something worse a few months from now."

A million questions crackled and popped through Harry's mind, synapses firing that she'd never imagined existed. How would another woman taste? Feel? Would she be dominant? Submissive? Both and neither at once? Had Louis done this before? Was this a joke or a mind game, or--

Louis' hand moved to her waist and Harry's mind stopped. Her heart racing, she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"Come home with me."

----

They are end game obviously and in my dreams they actually leave the O group and move to the UK to start their own brokerage together! Love wins :)

Send me a summary of a fic you wish I would write if you want!! (or just reblog the post for yourself)

[see-arcane]

"Oh, my poor darling!" As she spoke, she took her husband's grey head in her hands and kissed it. "Lay your poor head here and rest it. All will yet be well, dear! God will protect us if He so will it in His good intent." The poor fellow groaned.

Jonathan's like, I love you but how do I tell you as gently as possible not to talk about God's will when I'm this close to going full Faustus. Also, your wording isn't helping things.

On the one hand, I get that Mina was just being herself, trying to keep Jonathan and everyone's spirits up. But at the same time, I know in my heart that the only thing Jonathan heard was--

Mina: Don't worry, Jonathan! Just because God didn't step in for Lucy, or for Mr. Swales, or for the sailors of the Demeter, or for that mother who got torn apart by wolves, or those children Dracula fed to his Brides, or presumably any of the other uncountable legions of innocent victims Dracula's preyed on for centuries, doesn't mean He won't take care of our predicament! But hey, on the off-chance it's God's will that He fumbles my soul and humanity too, could you and our new friends maybe swear to double-kill me to prevent my chances of coming back as a vampire? It's cool, just think of it like it's olden times, when husbands and fathers would murder their families to prevent their enemies from getting to them. Also can you give me an early funeral rite? It'd make me feel better. :)

Jonathan: ...

Mephistopheles, sliding into his spiritual DMs: lol, that's crazy. Want to look at our Unholy Vengeance package?

[yesterdayiwrote]

Oh he's running with the blue and white stripe theme this weekend...

[perenlop]

mlp nextgen dynamic currently in my brain is that trixie and starlight are divorcebians who keep getting back together even though starlight is clearly pining for sunburst and trixie is just projecting her unresolved gay crush on twilight onto starlight and doesn't realize it yet. unfortunately they have a kid.

this is very much up to change though because i don't know what starlight is doing in my personal au at all

[hahaokayright]

Y’all, what if I said John Gaius has Elizabeth Holmes vibes? Just a little bit.

What then?

[ashtavula]

Hihihi! Could I please request a royalty/nobility au with the housewardens? Like them as a dashing Mr. Darcy, if that makes sense.

So, since this is pretty open ended, I'm just going with headcanons on what sort of role they'd have in this au. Though it might be more like an otome au? But if you like it, or want to see more, please don't hesitate to ask!

Royalty AU - The Housewardens

You are the only heir to the throne, and now, you've been given a "simple" task. Find someone to marry before the year is over! Your butler clears his throat, and names some of your potential suitors...

Riddle - The Marquess' Son

-Riddle is the sole child of Marquess and Marchioness Rosehearts. His family is well known for funding medical research, and they're generally well respected. At least, publicly. In private, many nobles whisper about the cruelty of Marchioness Rosehearts, and Riddle's overbearing strictness. Your butler also states that, when your parents announced your eligibility for marriage, she was the very first to put her son's name forward. It makes you think that Riddle had no say in being a candidate.

-Riddle himself is rumored to be at odds with his family, considering his friendship with the local baker, Trey Clover, and other commoners. His mother has publicly denounced the idea that her family mingles with the lower classes, but Riddle continues to be spotted around the bakery regardless. It makes you wonder if he's not quite as strict as the rumors claim...

Leona - The Second Prince

-Leona is the second born prince of a neighboring country. His brother, King Falena, has maintained his country's status quo, but it's becoming rather obvious that Leona doesn't approve of his family's excessive lifestyle while their kingdom's poorest starve. Supposedly, Falena is growing increasingly desperate to marry Leona off to a foreigner so he can be removed from Sunset Savannah's political sphere. Leona's own people talk about him being a lazy, power hungry rebel, and this gives you pause. You haven't heard a single positive thing yet. There must be more to the man than this...

-Your butler goes on to mention that this is merely what your country's spies have found out. According to official correspondence, Leona is a laid back man with a handsome appearance, and a sharp intellect. The sheer difference in those descriptions startles you, and makes you wonder. Who exactly is Prince Leona?

Azul - The Information Broker

-Azul Ashengrotto is the head of the country's biggest information guild. Hiring his Octavinelle Agency is the best way to dig up dirt on anybody, and no one knows just how he acquires that much intelligence. Your parents have listed him as a potential candidate in the hopes that, should you marry him, he would give you access to the wealth of information he has at his fingertips. According to rumors, you must give him something of equal exchange for anything he tells you. You frown as you hear about people selling things like their voices, and their magic to him. He can't be that cruel. Right?

-According to people who have made deals with him, he has a taste for the finer things in life. He'd certainly jump at the opportunity to court you, as you are the heir to the throne. Before your butler can finish, a strange man enters the room. His mismatched eyes gleam as he hands you a letter, stamped with the Octavinelle Agency insignia. The letter is simple, but it sends a chill up your spine. "Your Highness, if you are considering marriage, then please come by my agency. I can tell you anything you wish to know about your suitors, and I'll even waive my usual fees. The only thing I ask in return is for your company. Signed, Azul Ashengrotto." Before you can question the man, he slips out of the parlor. How peculiar...

Kalim - The Merchant Prince

-Your butler clears his throat, and moves on. Next on the list is Kalim Al-Asim, heir to the Al-Asim Trade Company. Merchants under their banner travel far and wide, bringing wondrous things that many people have never seen before. In his country, rich merchants practically become royalty, and Kalim's family is the wealthiest of those families. If you choose him, it will invigorate your country's economy, and your parents approve of this. Also, according to the people who have seen him, he's cheerful and compassionate.

-However, your butler warns that his family has a dark side. In the Scalding Sands, poison is the weapon of choice, and Kalim's life has likely been threatened numerous times. And that his own siblings and cousins are likely his biggest enemies. If you married him, you'd be subjected to the same treatment. You'd constantly have to watch your back, and worry that every sip of wine would be your last. Is that truly a life you wish to lead?

Vil - The Duke

-Vil Schoenheit is the youngest Duke to grace your country's nobility. He's also the fairest. Countless numbers of men and women fawn over his beauty, yet he has rejected every advance that has come his way. This had led to nasty rumors that he has impossible standards, and that his heart must be made of ice. He apparently also has a keen mind, though there are some whispers that he uses that intellect to brew deadly poisons. Who those poisons are meant for, nobody knows.

-His dukedom also contains some of your country's most beautiful locations. Lush forests and thriving apple orchards span his lands, and his people prosper under his rule. However, people do wonder why all of his citizens seem to be good looking, and why nobody seems to oppose him. Is it just a coincidence, or is there a darker reason behind his seemingly perfect dukedom?

Idia - The Inventor

-Idia Shroud is, without a doubt, one of the smartest men in your kingdom. However, his reputation, and several rumors, precede him. He's known for being extremely reclusive, and he's almost never been seen in public. Instead, he trusts an automaton, Ortho, to complete various tasks. And the few times he has been spotted sparked a frenzy of strange rumors. There's talk around the capital that he's been cursed, marked by unholy fire. Your brows furrow. Is he truly one of the candidates for your hand in marriage?

-Aside from the rumors that swirl around him, he's genuinely skilled. Ortho is a completely sentient automaton, and several of his other inventions have changed the average citizen's quality of life for the better. He's the reason your kingdom is more advanced than any other, and that counts for a lot. He's a bit bizarre, but rumors about his supposed "curse" stirs your curiosity.

Malleus - The Briar King

-Your butler shivers, and mentions King Malleus in a hushed tone. He is the King of Briar Valley, a strange land that nobody has ever actually seen. There are old tales about his kingdom. Stories that state that the land is populated by the fae, and that their king is not truly a fae, but a fearsome dragon. These tales claim that any being who opposes the Briar King will be incinerated in a plume of dragon fire, and that he demands complete loyalty from his subjects. As you begin to wonder why your parents would give you such an option, you get your answer. For the first time, Malleus has left his kingdom, and is visiting yours. This might be your kingdom's only chance to forge an alliance with the powerful, mysterious fae.

-There is a bit more information than just wild tales. According to your butler, an odd fae visited the castle yesterday, and told your parents a bit more about Malleus. This fae stated that his king was not quite as intimidating as the stories claim, and that Malleus yearned for companionship more than anything else. Your gaze softened. You, as the heir to a kingdom, knew that a royal life could be a lonely one. If he also felt the ache of solitude, then, he surely couldn't be a monster, like the people say.

Now that you've heard about your potential suitors, only one question remains...

Who will you choose?

[keikikait]

ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

check out my other rafe series here!

read the prequel series here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 4.9k

summary: rafe is late for your date at the island club

warnings: no smut but is suggestive (read at your own risk), handsy rafe, mild violence/fighting, whipped reader & whipped rafe, they go to a restaurant but i don't specify any kind of food, rafe is angry for like 3 seconds but not at reader, mean jj, use of the word 'whore', i don't think they've shown rafe's new place yet so i made one up, i haven't watched all of s4 so if i get shit wrong i'm sorry, not proofread

a note: this was supposed to be short. oops

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You and Rafe had date nights every Friday.

It was the only sense of regularity that he had, and he wouldn’t miss it for the world. He would plan it, tell you when and where to be, and you would eagerly oblige. He surprised you with something new every week; one Friday you’re driving across the thoroughfare towards the mainland for a shopping spree, the next Friday you’re on a private yacht watching the sunset. This week, he decided to go for the tried and true; dinner and a movie.

‘6 PM’, he told you, ‘and wear that silk emerald green dress.’ He had to run out for the day, still dealing with the aftereffects of Ward’s death and his departure from Tanneyhill. Trying to sell a giant, 6-bedroom mansion wasn’t as easy as you thought, as most of the residents of Kildare couldn’t afford to buy it from him. He was considering turning it into an Air B&B, a project he would rope you into to help with the interior design. You and Rafe had a new place, another mansion still located in Figure Eight, although this one is much smaller, a Spanish revival you had a lovely time decorating. 

As the afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the landscape, you found yourself perched upon a solitary bench situated beside the parking lot of The Island Club, the salty tang of the ocean breeze carrying the distant sound of crashing waves. Couples filed into the club, paying you no mind. Even though The Island Club wasn’t far from your new place, Rafe still bought you an Uber, just to make sure you were safe. It was almost 6:15 PM at this point, and every call and text to Rafe went unanswered. You had already informed the staff of his late arrival, ensuring that your reservation would not get cancelled. You check your watch again before standing, walking around the parking lot to check the streets.

Where was he?

You tug your dress down your legs. It was Rafe’s favourite on you, hugging your ass and hips perfectly. It was finally starting to get cold on the island, and even though the black leather jacket you stole from him didn’t exactly go with your outfit, it was keeping you warm. The wind flows through your hair, and you push it out of your eyes, looking down the street, trying to spot him on his bike. You sigh, your shoulders dropping. You turn around to head back to the bench, pulling your phone out of your small purse, ready to call him again.

You’re about to sit down when you hear the revving and rumbling of his dirt bike, pulling into the left side of the parking lot. You sigh, putting your phone away as you walk over to him. You bite your lip when you see him wearing that grey blue waffle-weaved sweater that makes him look delicious. Rafe turns his bike off, pushing the kickstand down before getting off, reaching up to unbuckle the strap of his helmet.

“Hey, handsome.” You say, stepping off the curb and approaching him. You reach out, putting one of your hands on his bicep, fingers slightly digging into the muscle. Rafe pulls his helmet off, keeping it clutched in his hand. His eye and cheekbone were swollen, slightly yellow, and a cut underneath his brow bone marred his otherwise handsome face. The cut was deep, and blood was caked along its edges. It was clear that he had been in a fight, and he had not come out of it unscathed. He winced as you suddenly reach up to touch his cheekbone, a worried look on your face. “What the fuck? What happened?”

Rafe winces as you touch his cheek, pulling back from your touch. He wasn’t in the mood for your coddling. His jaw was clenched tight, his shoulders tense from the fight. He had no intention of telling you what happened, either. You never needed to know about the trouble he was in. He puts his helmet on the seat of his bike and grabs your waist, pulling you in front of him. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, trying his best to keep his voice level so that he didn’t snap at you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, not bothering to conceal the bruises and blood on his knuckles. Was it his or someone else’s, or both?

“Are you okay?” You ask, moving your hand off his bicep to rest on his waist. “Rafe, please tell me.”

His expression hardens as you continue to push. His fingers grip your waist almost painfully tight. “I said, don’t worry,” he repeats, his voice stern. He’d never talked to you like this, and you could hear the warning behind his words. His eyes stare down at you, intense and full of anger, although you’re not quite sure if it’s meant for you. “Let it go.”

You don’t push it, not wanting to anger him anymore. It was supposed to be a nice, relaxing night. You wrap your arms around his waist to pull him into a hug, laying your head on his chest. Rafe hesitates, surprised by the sudden display of affection, but then he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you in close. He buries his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, and for the first time that night, his shoulders finally drop, his whole body relaxing. He squeezes you tight to his chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head. 

He remains silent as he pulls away slightly, looking down at you. He keeps one arm wrapped around your waist, his hand gripping your side as his other hand flies to your neck. His grip is loose, but his thumb presses against your pulse — a small habit he picked up after he started dating you. In his own words, it’s a way to calm him down and to remind himself that you were safe.

Rafe sighs, pressing kisses to your forehead before leaning his against it, rubbing your pulse back and forth as it races under your skin. His voice is soft when he finally speaks, “I’m fine. Just ran into a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” You ask, rubbing your hand up and down his side.

“Nothing you need to be worrying about, sweetheart,” Rafe mumbles, still keeping his head pressed against yours. Rafe never used pet names with anyone else, but with you, it felt different. His eyes drift down to your lips, unable to resist. They were a faint shade of red, glossy and puffy from your bites, just as he liked them. “Just some shit with JJ and John B. I handled it.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips, the hand on your neck moving to cup your cheek. Even as he pulls away, he keeps your body pressed against him. “Let’s not let this ruin our night, alright?”

“Are you sure?” You ask, brushing your thumb across his abs. “We can go home and order in if you want. I don’t want you to feel compelled to go out tonight.”

“Baby, I’m fine,” he murmurs, his voice soft. He understood where you were coming from, but only you would ever try to get out of a very expensive date because you thought he was too tired. “I got reservations for a reason. I don’t plan on missing our date night just because of a little fight.” The hand on your waist moves to the small of your back, pressing your body closer to his. He’d planned out everything for tonight. A fancy meal, followed by a quiet movie night at your place, then ending the night with his face buried between your legs, your wrists bound to the headboard. He didn’t want to ruin a date night that both of you were looking forward to. 

You sigh, but don’t push it. You didn’t want to ruin the date with an argument. You grab his hand, careful not to brush across his shredded knuckles, before leading him towards the entrance. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

Rafe rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but smile a little bit at your persistence, thankful that you cared. He follows behind you, his strides matching yours. He winces a little bit when you grab his hand, his knuckles stinging from the fight, but he doesn’t dare let you know that. 

He holds the door open for you when you reach the entrance, waiting for you to go through before he follows behind, placing on hand on your lower back as you walk. His eyes drifted down to your ass, and he had to stop himself from reaching out and smacking it. Now that his father was dead, he had to try to keep the Cameron image clean and pristine at The Island Club. They weren’t fans of him to begin with.

You head through the small entrance, moving to wait in line for the hostess stand. The country club was pretty packed, a common occurrence for a Friday night. The couple in front of you were older, and the woman's eyes soften as she looked over her shoulder and spotted Rafe. 

He kept his hand on your lower back, not trying to hide the fact that you were both together. His eyes stayed locked with the older woman in front of you, not surprised to have already been discovered by one of the regulars. He could see the woman’s concern from a mile away, her expression shifting when she saw the scrapes and bruises on his face. Rafe sighed, his jaw clenching in annoyance. Even here, he couldn’t get away from his reputation. His hand started to rub small circles into your back, silently trying to soothe himself more than you.

The woman whispers to her husband before turning around again. “It’s Rafe, right?”

Rafe raises an eyebrow at the elderly woman, a hint of a scowl on his face as his eyes meet hers. He gives her a small nod, although he doesn’t feel like talking to a regular at The Island Club right now. He wanted nothing more than to spend the evening alone with you. “Yes, ma’am,” His response is short and brief. “That’s me.”

“I was a friend of your father,” The woman says. “We were business partners a few years ago. I’m sorry for your loss, Rafe. My condolences.” 

Rafe’s expression changes as soon as the woman mentions his father. He knew that most people from The Island Club had been friends with his old man and business partners with him. Hearing condolences for his father had become a regular part of his routine, but that didn’t mean he liked hearing about his father’s death every single time. His hand on your lower back tightens, pulling you a bit closer to him. He gives her a forced smile, trying his best to look polite. “Thank you, ma’am,” he responds, his voice stiff.

The woman smiles softly before turning back around, stepping forward towards the hostess stand. Rafe’s hands traveled from your hips to your lower back, pulling you closer to him. He was lost in reality, almost as if he didn’t want to admit to himself that his life was fundamentally changing. His father was dead, and his relationships with his remaining family were ruined. But he had you, and that’s all that matters to him right now.

You lean your head against his chest as you wait, hands wrapped around his bicep, rubbing it lightly with your thumb.

Rafe sighs as you lean against him, his hand on your lower back drifting down to cup your ass. He could only hope that the other patrons wouldn’t notice, although he didn’t really care that much. But that woman was going to tell everyone about how rough he looked tonight, and he knew that some people would have comments about that, too. Rafe lowers his head to speak in your ear, although his voice is quiet enough that only you could hear. “Can’t wait to get you home,” he murmurs.

"Yeah? You excited for me to get on my knees for you?" You ask. Just as Rafe had been thinking about you all day, you had been thinking about him. You couldn’t wait to sink to the floor in front of him, your hands eagerly unbuckling his slacks before letting him fuck your face. Your favourite part, though, was the way he gripped your hair and moaned as he cummed down your throat.

Rafe sighs, groaning low in his throat as your words go straight to his cock. He’d always loved it when you talked like this, even if you were in private or texting. He didn’t want you to talk to anyone else like that. You were his. “Mmm, I’m more excited to see your face when you ride me,” he mumbles, moving closer so that his mouth is right next to your ear, still careful to keep his voice low. He wanted to take you home right now, but he had been looking forward to this dinner all week, and he knew you were too.

The older couple in front of you step away, being led by the hostess to their table. You approach the stand, and you smooth out the front of your dress as you wait. Although Rafe was used to the rich life full of country clubs, cotillion and croquet, you weren’t. You wanted to make a good impression on the staff of The Island Club.

Rafe stands tall and proud as you both step up to the hostess stand, his arm still wrapped around your waist, his hand resting on the small of your back. He glances down at your dress, taking in every detail of your appearance. You looked absolutely stunning in that dress, and it was taking all of his self-control to not get hard right now. The way you anxiously chewed on your lip, the way your hair was shining in the ambient lighting of the country club, the way you wore the ‘Rafe’ name necklace he bought you…he loved everything about you. He tugged you closer, loving the way you put a hand on his stomach as you leaned against him. You both had matching gold rings, engraved with your anniversary, yours on your forefinger while his sat on his thumb. 

The hostess looks up to greet both of you. She glances down at the reservation book for just a moment before nodding, a polite smile on her face. “Mr. Cameron,” she says. “Your table is ready.” She gathers two menus before leading you through the dining room towards the more private, member’s only area of the country club.

Even though you had been dating Rafe for a while, almost a year, you were always surprised by his influence. He had everything he ever wanted at the tips of his fingers, and because you were dating him, you got those luxuries too; endless shopping trips, a house full of anything you could dream of. And a handsome boyfriend, of course.

As you walk behind the hostess, Rafe’s fingers intertwine with yours, holding your hand tight. He was aware of all the eyes on him, as you could hear the whispers and murmurs from their fellow patrons, knowing they were all aware of the fight with John B and JJ, and the rumors were probably already spreading like wildfire. The hostess leads you to a secluded corner with a single table set for two, two candlesticks illuminating the table with a warm glow. 

“Thank you,” Rafe mumbles to the hostess as his eyes drift towards the far corner of the room. He lets go of your hand with some reluctance, before holding the chair for you at the small booth. He was thankful for the secluded booth, knowing it was going to be easier to touch you under the table. Rafe slides in next to you, reaching over to grab your knee, stroking his thumb softly back and forth. He wanted to put his hand on your throat to feel your pulse again, but he didn’t think that the patrons and staff would like that.

You thank the hostess, setting your purse down in the empty space next to you. As the hostess walks away, Rafe’s hand slips under the skirt of your dress, grabbing onto your inner thigh and rubbing back and forth. His touch is featherlight, just the lightest graze of skin against skin, although he can feel all the heat from your skin. 

He picks up the menu from the table, pretending to scan the food while his hand caresses you. He leans in toward you, although his eyes are still scanning the menu. “Do you know what you want to eat, sweetheart?”

“You.” You say immediately, flipping the menu over to look at the other side.

Rafe can’t help but let out a slight chuckle at your immediate response, his hand on your thigh stopping for a moment. His eyes finally look up at you from the menu, an amused look on his face. “Mmm, not yet, baby, but you’ll get it later. Promise,” he grins, his eyes drifting back down to the menu as his hand starts to rub against you again. “And for the main course?”

You sigh, glancing over the options. You didn’t really love any of the dishes on the menu, but you weren’t opposed to eating any of them. Rafe wraps his large, warm hand around your inner thigh and squeezes, yanking you a bit closer. It’s a simple gesture, but it makes your head spin, your brain shutting down for a split second. You purse your lips as you read before looking away, shifting in your seat. “You pick.”

He can see the way your body reacts to his touch, and it satisfies him to know that he can still affect you like that. It just makes him more eager to get you back home tonight. His fingers press into your thigh when you move closer to him, but he quickly loosens his grip when the waiter comes up to your table. 

He finally decides what he wants for the main course, and he orders for the both of you. His hand slides down your thigh, finally withdrawing, although he places his palm flat against your skin, resting his hand just below the edge of your dress. You sip on your drink as you wait for your food, feeling Rafe’s hand travel up your thigh again, as if he couldn’t resist. After the waiter walks away, Rafe’s focus turns back towards you, and he glances around the room to make sure nobody was watching. Seeing as everyone around him seemed to be doing their best to ignore him, he felt comfortable enough to continue his touch. His hand moves from your thigh to your hip, pulling you closer to him. “I like this dress on you,” he murmurs, his eyes raking over your body.

“Thank you,” You say as his hands travel up higher. “You look really good, baby.” You reach out and place your hand on his bicep, squeezing it. You couldn’t resist. He always looked good, but something about the way he looked in that fucking blue sweater and grey slacks made you go crazy, wanting to put your hands all over him and your mouth on his cock.

He gives you a smirk as your hand wraps around his upper arm, and he leans back into his chair. Your praise always brought out the cocky, arrogant side of him, and he absolutely loved when you told him how good he looked. His ego always needed a boost. He flexes the muscle underneath your hand, and it ripples underneath his sweater. “Yeah? You like this, don’t you?” He grins.

You nod, your mouth going dry. It was so hard to concentrate, all you wanted to do was shut your brain off and let him take control for the night. He knows exactly what effect he was having on you, and he loved seeing the effect that he could have on your body just from a little flex. “You feeling needy, baby?” He mumbles, his fingers pressing against your panties, right over your clit. You suck in a breath, gripping his sleeve to try to ground yourself. You nod.

The smirk stays plastered on his face as his palm squeezes tightly on the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He can see the way your shoulders tensing, knowing that you were trying your best to keep yourself from writhing in your seat. “Soon, sweetheart. We just gotta get through dinner,” he mumbles, although he wanted nothing more than to take you home right now and ruin you, make you cum over and over until you cry.

The waiter approaches with your food, setting everything on the table. It snaps you back to reality, and you move your glass so he can put your plate in front of you. As the waiter sets the plates down, Rafe reluctantly pulls his hand away from you. His hand goes to pick up his fork, although the movement is absent-minded. His eyes stayed focused on you, and the only thing he could think about was getting you home and alone. Eventually, he forces his eyes away from you and to his food. His other hand moves behind your lower back, resting his palm flat against the exposed skin, his pinky finger playing with the waistband of your panties.

You struggle through dinner, your thighs pressed together. The food was delicious, and you and Rafe spent a good amount of time talking about your plans for Tanneyhill, all the while he was brushing his fingers along your inner thighs and your panties. He was doing it on purpose, trying to rile you up, and it was working. You eat as quickly as you can, snatching your purse and  dragging him out of the restaurant after paying and leaving a tip.

You rush towards his bike, and he can’t help but chuckle at how desperate you are. He spins you around, pulling you against his chest. “Relax, baby. We’ll be home soon.”

You whine. “I need it, Rafe.”

Your whine was like music to his ears. His hand goes to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. His eyes are dark with lust as he looks down at you. “You’ll get it.” He says, grabbing his helmet and pushing it over your head. He secures the strap under your chin, kissing your nose. He climbs onto the bike, pushing the kickstand up.

“Do you have a helmet?” You ask, fiddling with it. It was definitely too big for your head.

“Nah,” He says, looking at you over your shoulder as you climb on, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I don’t need one, baby. I’m a professional. It’ll be fine, just hold on tight.”

“Rafe,” You say, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. “Are you sure?”

Rafe sighs as he places his hands on the handlebars, hearing the tone of worry in your voice. “Sweetheart, I swear, it’ll be fine. The house isn’t far,” he sighs, shaking his head and starting the engine. “I’ll go slow, okay? Just hold on tight and don’t let go. You’ll be fine, baby, I promise.”

You have no choice but to listen to him, tightening your grip around him, your purse squished between his back and your chest. “Okay.”

He nods slightly before reaching down to grab your thighs, pulling your body to fully press against his. He wants to be able to feel your skin against his. He doesn’t say anything else as he starts to drive, slowly making his way out of the parking lot. He had been through worse. He could handle a simple drive home without a helmet.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You pull up into the driveway of your house, safe and sound. You wait for Rafe to pop the kickstand down and turn the bike off before standing, putting your purse back on your shoulder. You reach up, unclipping the helmet before pulling it off, shaking your hair out.

Rafe climbs off of the bike, gently letting go of the handles just in case it came tumbling. He bites his lip before reaching out, grabbing your waist and pulling you to him, his other hand immediately coming up to cup your neck. “You were worried for nothing, baby,” he murmurs, gently pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back, your hands flying to his waist, lost in the feeling of his tongue on yours.

“‘Bout time y’all showed up.”

You and Rafe pull away, glancing down your driveway.

JJ and John B hop out of JJ’s van, parked right against the curb.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You ask, your hands dropping from their spot on Rafe’s stomach. Rafe’s grip on you tightens, feeling you pull away. His eyes are narrowed as he looks at JJ and John B as they approach the two of you.

“What, you two on a date? Couldn’t even invite us?!” JJ laughs, his hands shoved into his pockets. You thought that Rafe looked awful, but it’s clear that he had the upper hand during his fight with JJ and John B. JJ looks terrible, his eye bruised and almost swollen shut, the side of his face scratched up like he fell onto gravel. John B has a split lip and a deep purple bruise on his eyebrow, his knuckles caked with dried blood.

“Wow, JJ. You look like shit,” You say, unable to hold back. “You already got your ass beat, are you back for more?”

JJ glares at you, his hands tightening into fists in his pockets. “Careful where you run your mouth, slut,” he growls, taking a step towards you. 

That’s all it takes to piss Rafe off.  “Watch your mouth,” he growls. He steps in front of you, blocking JJ’s path.

You just laugh, unable to take him seriously. You push past Rafe, shoving your purse into his chest. “Excuse me?”

JJ stares directly at you, his expression turning into a scowl. “Careful, you don’t want to fall back into old habits. You’re just a little whore for all of the Pogues,” JJ growls, and John B puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to shut up, but it isn’t enough for JJ to back down. He takes another step forward, his eyes locked on you and your face.

Everything happens quickly after that.

Before you could say another word, Rafe is launching himself at JJ, grabbing the collar of his shirt and throwing him against the side of his van. JJ tries to land a punch, but Rafe’s faster. He just keeps landing punches, one after the other, not letting up for a second. John B. jumps on Rafe, trying to hold him back, but it isn’t enough.

You quickly rush over, grabbing the back of Rafe’s sweater, tugging him backwards. “Stop. They aren’t worth it, Rafe.” His fist is raised, and he turns to look at you, hearing the panic in your voice. He freezes when you call out to him, and John B. jumps off of his back. 

The air is tense, everything is still and dead silent. All you can hear are their heavy breaths, and John B is holding onto JJ, preventing him from attempting to start another fight.

“If either of you ever come back here,” You walk towards them, getting up in JJ's face. “I'll bury you.”

JJ doesn't back off, and he glares down at you, a cruel smirk on his face.  “You gonna do it yourself?” JJ stands up, still being held back by John B. “Sweet, helpless little thing like you? Or are you just gonna try and hide behind your boyfriend?” His eyes trail down your body as his smirk grows, his teeth stained with blood.

You consider hitting him. You really do. But you know that JJ wouldn’t be scared to hit you back, and you really didn’t want to ruin this dress.

You step back before spitting on him.

A mixture of fury and shock shoots through JJ’s whole body, his face grimacing. “You bitch, I’ll fucking—“ JJ snaps, and he starts to come at you. John B grabs onto him, holding him back, but he’s barely able to restrain JJ, trying to calm him down.

You turn around, walking away from him, back towards your house. “Take your little bitch ass back to The Cut.” 

“You little whore, did you forget where you came from? Did you forget who you used to whore yourself out to?” JJ says, still fighting against John B’s grip on him. “You’re gonna regret that someday, you hear me? Someday you’ll have no one to protect your pathetic little ass, and I’m gonna be there, laughing at you. Just watch.”

Rafe starts to walk towards JJ and John B again, but you wrap a hand around his forearm, pulling him back. “Baby, stop. He’s not worth it.” You look up at him, trying your best to get him to calm down. 

JJ finally stops trying to shake John B off, realizing that he isn’t going to be able to land a hit on you, no matter how badly he wants to. “You’re lucky you’re not with the Pogues anymore. I’d teach you some manners,” he calls after you.

You drag Rafe back inside as JJ and John B get back into JJ’s van, the tires screeching as they drive away.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

if you would like to be tagged for any future parts (if i make them), please reply to this post!

part two is here!

[kiame-sama]

Can you give us some Human Lore related to the Great Seven? As you mentioned how the Queen of Hearts is very strict about Humans being protected, even making a bunch of rules to protect them (So no doubt if Reader gets bullied while Riddles’ around he’ll instantly collar the perpetrators)

I’m curious as to see if there are any myths about how the other Great Seven treat or view Humans

This AU has me in a chokehold and I can’t wait for more parts! I love every part and your art of the characters is amazing!

I kinda wrote a little idea for the Righteous Judge and how he felt about Humans (You can ignore or change it if you want! Since this IS your AU)

The Righteous Judge was known for being fair towards Humans as he believed they should be treated equally, as he’d saw how Humans could not only adapt, but even help Monsters settle their differences, and they could do it all without magic

As such he made laws to protect Humans as he thought highly of Humanity being the key to improve civilization, as while they didn’t have any magic, their bonds with each other and other Monsters helped accomplish any task or threat thrown at them

He believed Humans were pure because they weren’t born with the savage instinct like many Monsters have, as he saw Humans more likely to show compassion, mercy, kindness and empathy, unlike Monsters who are more prone to use violence, aggression and pure power to get what they want

Legend has it the Righteous Judge wept in sorrow when Humanity went Extinct, as he believed Humanity could’ve helped Monsters learn how to better themselves

It’s also believed that the Righteous Judge’s son was a Human, which could explain why he was so devoted to defend and help Humans

Maybe because of this Fleur City is known for their rituals, celebrations and festivals to honor the legacy Humans left behind, to honor how the Righteous Judge strived so hard to help Humans

Sorry, my brain went ham as I’m prone to overthinking because of my Autism (I love your Autistic Works as they’re incredibly relatable, like with Floyd and his squeezes since I love extra tight hugs)

Absolutely agree for the Righteous Judge and this would no doubt translate to Rollo's own infatuation and obsession with this little Human. I would bet that if Human MC from the AU visited Fleur city during the Topsy Turvey Day, they would be automatically crowned and honored in the festival as even the Righteous Judge loved the Humans he wept so heavily for.

The Queen of Hearts was known for her love of Humans and had several Human pets that she cherished deeply. She was known to only pardon her Humans from being beheaded as they were such an endearing little species and she couldn't stay angry with her Humans for long. There are no less than 50 rules regarding the proper treatment of humans as The Queen wanted to ensure her beloved pets were kept safe no matter what. All Humans were declared as a protected species in the Queendom of Roses, and harming or abusing one was punishable by death. These laws are still in place despite Humans being extinct for centuries just in the event that a Human could possibly still be alive somewhere.

The King of Beasts doesn't have any mention of humans in any of his stories, hence why many beast men were content to treat Humans as cattle and regarded humans as a delicacy to feast upon. Over the years as Humans became more and more endangered, the Black market for Humans became more than a little cut-throat. Humans were food for so long, that when they were declared extinct, literal riots broke out and what small remaining meat sold for millions. Knock off meat was popular for a while, and Sunset Savana (and various other locations with high beastman populations) admitted to being somewhat at fault for the rapid extinction of Humans. Now there is a global ban on the buying, selling, or trading of Human artifacts/remains.

The Sea Witch's story is deeply intertwined with the presence of Humans, as it was a Human the princess wished to see and marry, leading to her making a deal with the Sea Witch. Many merfolk regard Humans as the peak standard of beauty as a result of this story and see Sirens as merfolk who have been blessed with Human blood. Since sirens look very close to Humans- minus their ever present gills and abnormal aquatic forms- sirens are believed to be the step between merfolk and Humans. Many Human-like monsters are treated with the same kind of awe by merfolk for being so close to a Human in form.

The Sorcerer of the Sands had many tricks and was very knowledgeable, so of course he knew about humans in great detail. Some stories even claim that the Sorcerer sought the council of Humans for their unusual ability to resolve conflict in warring species. Despite their lack of Magic, humans were admirable enough to be in the council of the Sorcerer and were considered to be quite wise for their continued persistence among stronger species.

The Fairest Queen- the most beautiful of all and a wickedly powerful Harpy in her own right- liked the featherless bipeds known as Humans. Though they were clumsy and sometimes pig-faced, she viewed their ambition and tenacity in high regard. Such creatures that held on so tightly to their place in the world despite the other species beating them back certainly earned the respect of the Fairest Queen.

The Thorn Fairy was known for her many boons granted to Human kind. As Humans did not posses magic, they needed all the aid they could get and the Thorn Fairy was all too eager to aid. It is said that any Human the Thorn Fairy blessed became a member of her court, if not in title than in spirit, as the Thorn fairy adored the ignoble little species despite their fragility and flaws. Though she is the spirit of nobility and power, the Thorn Fairy herself smiled kindly upon her little Humans and offered aid to them when she could.

[tonkatsubowl]

flowers for you, my love.

wriothesley x fem!reader

✦ modern au.

⚠️mentions of violence & strong language. dark themes. kidnapping. stalking.

you've always admired wriothesley in the distance, and now... he's protecting you from the dangers of the world.

you own a small business.

well, it wasn't yours to begin with. it was your grandmother's.

your grandmother owned a local flower shop right next to a café, and you were well known within this small town for providing the best, high quality plants. you often sold out during holidays, especially valentine's day... but with the fall season coming up, you were quite busy preparing for halloween.

you were getting ready to sell pumpkins and just preparing the festive season for your customers... especially your regulars, too.

you fancied a regular named wriothesley, whom you call "rio" for short. how you both met was quite a wonder, really.

from down the street of your flower shop, there is a local gym. in order to get home, you take a short cut past the gym to reach to your apartments. during your closing period, you'd leave, and you'd always spot the same man who can be seen using the punching bag as a practice for his boxing skills. you would stop, stare from the large windows, before leaving quickly to remain unnoticed. shortly enough, you had a small crush on him despite not really speaking to him at all... until one day, he came to your flower shop looking for some flowers to decorate his home for the season. he was never really the type to decorate his home with flowers, but with the amount of stray cats that he was attracting... he really wanted to have them visit more and use the flowers outside his home as an attraction and toy for them.

ever since you both had met, wriothesley frequents your shop. he either comes to say hello, to buy flowers, but sometimes he doesn't show up at all. but you see him at the gym all the time, boxing and lifting weights. you admired how much he would sweat, how strong he was, how beautiful he looked...

...that was when you sighed dreamily to yourself, then you'd snap back to reality. right, what were you thinking right now? you were in the middle of closing up the shop. you were in your head again, thinking too much about wriothesley. you wish you had his number so you can speak to him more, but granted, you were a little shy.

flipping your sign to "closed", you adjust your bag before walking down the street again, taking your typical route home. you past the restaurant, the café, and finally... the gym.

your eyes wander towards the window, spotting the familiar man you admired in the distance, deadlifting what appeared to be about six-hundred pounds. he was absolutely strong, and god, you admired him for it...

...but he does sweat a lot, doesn't he?

around this time at the gym, there wasn't really anyone around but him. you look around, digging your hands into your bag before approaching the window, knocking onto it as an attempt to catch his attention... which was a success.

wriothesley looks over, blinking before smiling, waving at you. picking up his phone from the floor, he wanders towards you, motioning you to come inside through the window. you nod, making your way inside.

"hey, y/n." wriothesley said, smiling faintly at you. "closed up your shop for tonight?"

you nodded, returning the faint smile. "yeah. i come by through here every night since it's the route i take home."

wriothesley blinked. "...huh. by yourself? isn't that a little dangerous?" he tilted his head, furrowing his brows a bit at you.

"not really!" you shake your head. he wasn't wrong... it was entirely dangerous to walk around as a woman alone, especially last sunset. but you were accustomed to the town's safety, "i've been living here for almost my entire life, so i'll be okay."

wriothesley pursed his lips, his shoulders slumping. "i don't believe that."

that was when you can read the soft worried expression painting across his features. you felt a little bad, but you didn't want him to worry about you... especially when the both of you didn't exactly know each other too well. so, to soothe him, you lift the handkerchief that you had hidden in your bag, before gently wiping the sweat away from his forehead... and his jawline.

he blinked, his worried expression seizing entirely, though he was still worried about you. "you don't gotta..." he began, but he fell silent immediately. "...thanks." he enjoyed it.

being this close... you could see every feature of his body. his protruding veins at his biceps, the well sculpt figure he bestowed. the faint scars found across his body and arms... and you were probably caught staring at wriothesley a bit too long... so you look away, shoving the fabric back into your bag.

"s-sorry."

wriothesley chuckled, shaking his head. "don't be. i appreciate the effort." he said, before placing a hand into his pocket.

"..say. if you're on your way back, i want you to text me to make sure i know you got home safe."

you blinked, looking back towards wriothesley, watching as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. "ah? w-wait, you don't need—" oh, this was a good opportunity to get his number though...but maybe it was just he cared about your safety.

you internally sigh with your anxious thoughts, taking his phone before inputting your contact information and sending yourself a text. wriothesley smiled, "appreciate it. now, it's getting dark. and i got a few sets to finish up, then i have something to do later. text me when you're home, alright?"

you nodded slowly, watching as he turned his back towards you, returning to his workout. that was when you left, exiting the building of the gym...— "wait."

you stop, retracting your hand from pulling the doors of the exit, wriothesley's voice catching your attention.

"i'll walk you home instead, if that's alright with you."

you turn your head towards the man, seeing that he was putting o his shirt and he was picking up his gym bag and his shaker bottle. "i gotta get going soon, anyway. i didn't realize the time."

"a-ah, rio... you don't need to walk me home. really, i don't need you to be late to... wherever you need to be." you protest.

"nah," he shook his head, "it's fine. i'd rather you be safe first than me going somewhere without guaranteeing your safety."

you feel warmth creeping at your cheeks as you nod slowly, letting wriothesley move past you as he opened the door for you, "is that alright with you?"

you nodded, "ye-.. yes. i'm okay with that."

the two of you eventually left the gym together. the night was peaceful, the crickets were chirping, and the night sky was a splendid view to behold for all to see. each star greeted you both with its twinkle, almost distracting you from the current conversation you had with wriothesley.

"so," he began, "the flower shop. you own that?"

you nodded, "now i do. it was initially my grandmother's, actually. but when she passed, she gave it to me as a parting gift. now i run it."

"i see. sorry to hear about your grandmother." wriothesley said, glancing towards you. "i mean, do you enjoy having it? the shop, i mean."

"it's nice, i mean. i enjoy it, but i don't know if it's actually for me." you gave a sheepish smile. "the customers can be a little frustrating to deal with, but i'm there for the flowers."

wriothesley nod, he smiles at your direction. "i see. i always try to tell people that they should do what they enjoy. but follow your heart, you know?"

you nodded, stopping at the steps of your apartment. "well, here it is. home sweet home," you turn your head to wriothesley, "thank you for walking me home, rio. i appreciate it. i told you it wasn't a long walk."

wriothesley shook his head, shrugging his shoulders a bit. "hey, short walk or not, i just wanted to make sure you were safe. but uh, i'll see you later, alright? thank you for earlier, y/n. i gotta go now." with a small smile, the man lifts a hand to wave you goodbye before leaving.

watching as he left, you sigh, entering your apartment. you were safe and sound, finally home and welcoming the arms of your dog that was always so happy to see you.

... but you were completely oblivious to someone who was happy to see you too, stalking you from the shadows of the neighborhood.

and it wasn't your beloved wriothesley.

after taking a shower, you were getting ready to go to bed for the night. however, you couldn't stop thinking about wriothesley... so you decided to shoot him a text.

you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't respond back—he was probably asleep, or busy with whatever.

➽ y/n: hello! i just wanted to thank you for walking me home. i appreciate it.

➽ rio: no problem. go get some rest. glad you're safe and sound.

oh, he texted back rather fast. you wanted to text him more, but exhaustion was finally hitting you...

➽ y/n: you too! goodnight!

the next day, you woke up early to take your dog out, to prepare breakfast, and to practically get ready for the day. a part of you was expecting some sort of good morning text from wriothesley, but... you didn't get anything. maybe he gave you his contact information solely to make sure you were safe.

you were overthinking it, now. maybe he didn't find any interest in you. maybe you made him feel uncomfortable? no, no—stop overthinking it. you'll be fine. just... think about work, now. work. it's time to work.

...you had a big sale that was happening at your flower shop today, so you knew your shift would be extremely busy. so you had to slap the anxiety out of you. literally.

entering your shop, you began the day by watering your flowers and plants before proceeding to creating small bouquets. you always had fun making these bouquets, decorating each one with color schemes and other themes, and it was your favorite part of the day. it was even better whenever wriothesley came by to visit.

as though the devil himself was listening to your wishes, your phone buzzes, catching your attention while you were in the middle of work.

➽ rio: morning. just woke up. you alright?

ah, your heart was racing. you tried to contain your excitement as he texted you! so he wakes up later in the day? you weren't surprised...

➽ y/n: good morning. i'm okay. did you sleep well?

➽ rio: i'm glad you're okay. i slept well. are you at work?

➽ y/n: yeah it's a little busy atm

➽ rio: i see. i'll come by whenever i get the chance.

➽ y/n: okay! ( ; ω ; )

containing your excitement, you began to work as fast as possible and efficiently as possible to get ready for the rush. you wanted to see wriothesley, so you were basically playing the waiting game all day—despite working through the rush. luckily for you, the little special you had going on ended in the afternoon, so today you'd close your shop early.

eventually, because of the rush, you even forgot about wriothesley for a moment. you were helping many, many customers and getting ready to send out orders, and from the distance... your secret admirer was watching you, adoring the visual of flowers being taken care of by your hands, the smiles on customers' faces when they leave your shop with an abundance of flowers in their hands...

dang, you really did forget about wriothesley for a moment, but when he had shown up to your shop, it was definitely a huge reminder to yourself that he said he'd come by! when he had entered, he caught the eyes of the elderly women in your shop as he approached you. although you didn't notice him yet, you were occupied setting a flower into a small child's ear before sending them off to their parent, smiling as they jumped and skipped away with joy.

the scene itself sent flutters to his heart, chuckling as he watched the child skip away joyously. you nearly jump yourself when you hear wriothesley's voice behind you, "ah—" you turned, facing the men you caught feelings for.

"hey, sorry, y/n," wriothesley said with a sheepish smile, "i didn't mean to scare you. you seem busy though, i can come back later, and—"

"n-no!" you shake your head, "no, you can... stay." you felt a little awkward and shy, especially when you had risen your voice just a teeny tiny bit to disagree. "i-i mean. if you have somewhere to be, i won't stop you."

"i don't, which is why i came here... and to ask and see if you'd like to... uh," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, "...want me to treat you for lunch?"

you froze, staring at wriothesley for a brief moment... before you felt red creep towards your cheeks, smiling faintly. timidly, you tuck your hair behind your ear as you looked to the side, trying to hide your embarrassment to fixate on the flowers. "i... i would love to, rio. um, today? tomorrow...? when? what time?"

wriothesley's eyes soften, you could see his broad shoulders easing up, as though tense from the question he had asked you. "...today, after work. if that's okay with you. i saw your sign out there that you'd be closing the shop early or something, so i figured, maybe..."

"i don't mind at all," you shake your head, "i'd love to."

"alright, perfect. um, it's a date then." wriothesley nodded, flashing a faint smile at you.

ah... a date? you felt your heart flutter, you wanted to just faint right here and now. "alright! i'll see you later then."

wriothesley nodded, "good luck at work. i'll swing by to pick you up."

after wriothesley's visit, work went by surprisingly fast. you were expecting the day to be a little slower after the rush, especially when you kept looking at the clock. eventually when the last customer had left, you finally took the time to close up your shop, and eventually, you were waiting for wriothesley... who arrived rather quickly.

he was standing outside your shop, swiping through his phone. he hadn't notice you yet, but this gave you time to practically admire the man in all his glory. you could see his chiseled muscles, his jawline, how slick his hair was moved back... you can tell wriothesley took some time to get ready to look nice for you, although it wasn't much, you could see every detail of it. however, you were still wearing your cute little apron. and you smelled like flowers.

...you were sure he wouldn't mind you showing up to your date in this outfit, just being... yourself. he found out cute, truthfully. he didn't care about seeing you in a fancy dress or something wealthy to look nice. as long as you were there, being yourself, that's all that mattered to him.

"rio!" you called out to him as you approached him, holding something behind your back. yes, you had a gift for him. it was the norm for the man to give the woman a flower, but you really broke the norm and had a carnation for him. a white one, and it had reminded you of him.

wriothesley looked towards you, putting away his phone as he greeted you with a smile. "y/n." he says, his left hand also hiding behind his back. but you didn't seem to notice it, until the both of you extended your hidden hands towards each other, gifting each other a flower.

he gave you a rose, which was typical, and you... well, the carnation.

"i have this for you—"

"this is for you, rio—"

the both of you said in unison, before awkwardness silenced the both of you. then, the two of you would laugh together, exchanging the gifts you have for each other to their respective owners.

"great minds think alike, huh?" rio said with a slight grin. "i don't really know much about flowers, but... that's a nice looking flower you have there for me. what is it, a carnation?"

you blink, your eyes brightening as you gave wriothesley a smile. "yeah! a carnation, actually. it.. um," you glanced away, timid, "reminded me of you. so i..."

"huh," he chuckled, "i see! i'm glad. this rose reminded me of you, too. not thorny, but... beautiful to the eye."

that was when you felt like your whole world had been reincarnated to a land of fantasy. your heart had fluttered, your cheeks turned red, and this was practically confirmation���besides the fact you both were going on a date now.

"a-ah... stop it," you murmur, embarrassed, "i could say the same thing to you, you know. i mean... i... i took these carnations because i thought of you, too."

wriothesley smiled, giving you a soft chuckle. he seemed shy from that statement. taking offering to take your hand, he puts the carnation in the pocket of his shirt and the rose behind your ear (after trimming it). he then leads you to the café just down the street, where you were greeted with the sight of fresh delicacies and the delightful scent of coffee beans and bread.

it wasn't that long of a walk, and during the whole walk there, the two of you were holding hands, admiring the view of the town in silence. it wasn't awkward silence, either. it was comforting silence. stray kittens asleep near porches, children laughing as they chased each other down the road, elderly couples walking together... it was peaceful. and you enjoyed every bit of the town.

"welcome in!" you can hear the baristas greet you with joy, accompanied by the sound of glass clinking together. you and wriothesley take a seat at an empty table, looking down at a menu that listed many delicacies and various types of drinks.

you eyed at a white mocha latte, and given the weather, an iced one. "think i'll take a black coffee." you hear wriothesley say as he looks up at you, his hands digging into his pocket for his wallet, "you?"

"a white mocha latte... iced." you say, doing the same thing.

"ah, ah," he motioned towards you with a tune playing through his lips, denying your actions as he observed you, "date etiquette, miss y/n," a smile tugs at his lips, "the gentleman pays for the food."

"ah— no, let me! etiquette or not." you frown, furrowing your brows a bit.

but he was quick to get up with his wallet, approaching the baristas before ordering for you. with a defeated sigh, you watched him as he left your side momentarily, giving you a bit of time to admire the windowed view next to you.

the sky was beautiful, it was nice out. life was peaceful here in this small town, but... from the corner of your eye, you spot a hooded figure sitting on a bench, waiting for a bus to come. you can't help but seem to feel that the figure was looking at you for a bit, but you played it off, shaking your head. some people like to look just to look.

...but it was unnerving, now.

now the hooded figure was staring at you, and you could see the distraught eyes the man had. he seemed... so unkept. just when you were thinking you weren't being looked at, you were beginning to feel uncomfortable. eventually, your discomfort turned into safety when wriothesley returned to your side with the drinks.

"i'm back. sorry for the wait." wriothesley said, before immediately spotting the hint of discomfort on your face and your gaze that was directed out towards the window. he glanced back, not really seeing anything—considering the man in the hoodie was gone now.

"what is it? did you see something?" he asked, looking back at you.

you shake your head. "no, nothing. i just saw some weird man is all."

wriothesley canted his head, "people will always be weird in some aspects here. especially in the corner of the streets here... but, erm, here's your latte."

handing you your drink, he takes a sip of his black coffee as he sat back down, looking towards you with a very faint smile. you do the same, a smile tugging at your lips as you enjoyed the taste of the freshly brewed espresso and milk combined.

"this is really good," you murmur, taking another sip.

"i'm glad to hear that. the black coffee they got here is good, too. this is actually my first time being here, and i've been meaning to come here for a while."

"ah, really?" you blinked, tilting your head to the side. "me too, actually. even though it's down the street from where the flower shop, i'm surprised that i haven't gotten the chance to actually visit it."

wriothesley chuckled. "well, here we are."

"yeah! i'm glad you enjoy it so far." you beam.

"the date? i am." wriothesley takes another sip. "are you?"

"yeah! i really am enjoying myself so for. but, um..." your fingers tap against the glass. "your... um... right. we should get to know each other..."

setting down his mug, he folds his arms over his chest, leaning back against the seat. "how about twenty one questions?"

"ah, twenty one questions?" you blink. "just ask each other questions?"

he nodded, "yep. i can start off, if you'd like."

"yeah, i wouldn't mind that." you nod slowly, taking one last sip of the white mocha.

"so," wriothesley began, "do you always see me working out?"

oh, he really did catch you there. red handed, even. you furiously turn red, covering your face with both hands. "i—" you stammered. "i-i mean... you always... i... i take the same route home! so i happen to watch you sometimes..."

there was a sly grin on wriothesley's face as he chuckled. "ah, you know, i guess i can admit to the same thing. before you and i actually met and exchanged names, i'd always admire you working and watering the flowers while i'm on my way to the gym. it was love at first sight, so... i was a little shy, yeah, i know, to approach you."

ah, you felt your body relax a bit. yeah, you definitely felt the same, but you had no idea that wriothesley was actually admiring you from the distance! you had a smile on your face as you basically had confirmation the two of you were on the same boat. "ah... well, me too, though. i'm just glad i, um, thought my reasonings of seeing you would be discomforting to you or... well, weird."

wriothesley shook his head, "naw. i think you're totally fine." oh, he certainly meant that you were absolutely fine, too.

"so," he spoke, his eyes brightening, his eyes glancing to the time on his phone for a moment, "there's a perfect view of the lake right down at the park down the street. especially around this time. you can see the line of the milky-way, despite the light pollution and all... would you like to come and check it out with me? after i get done with the gym, i always visit the lake."

you immediately stand, taking your bag with a bright look, "yes! i'd love to see that with you. i have never really seen that side of the lake before, given i only really... well, go to work and go straight home, but... i'd love to."

wriothesley grinned, taking your hand gently. "alright. let's go, then."

as the two of you left, your eyes linger towards the left side of the street... wondering if that hooded man was there at all. but he wasn't, to your relief. now, you would be able to focus on the date and wriothesley until the date ends!

...what you didn't realize he was on the other end of the street, still watching you.

"ah, home sweet home," wriothesley said as he brought you to the foot of your door, smiling. "i really had fun today, y/n. i hope you did, too." wriothesley was already occupied on one knee, greeting your dog that joyously came running over to say welcome home to you. now, it was excited to see your date, wagging its tail and all slobbery.

you stood inside after opening the door, giggling as you watched your dog greet the both of you with excitement. "ah, i really did! did you... um... want to schedule another date? i-its okay if you don't want to, i-i mean i understa—"

"hey."

you stop, your eyes peeled towards the taller man as he placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "of course. don't get all self-deprecating, now. i'd love to go on another date with you. how about..." he paused. "...tomorrow? or just... whenever you're free."

you felt warmth creep towards your cheeks as you felt his hand on your shoulder. you nod slowly, admiring the closer details of his forearm, seeing the faint scars and protruding veins of his chiseled muscles... god, you could just melt right here and now.

"i would love to! tomorrow is actually my day off, so...! you had that time perfectly, actually." you smile.

wriothesley chuckled, "alright, cool. i'll see you tomorrow then."

"a-ah, wait... text me when you get home, please, rio!"

wriothesley chuckles, "i will, y/n."

although he was more than capable of handling himself, you worried about his safety too.

if anything, you should be worried about yours right now, since wriothesley isn't at your apartment anymore.

when night fell, you had already showered and began to cook dinner for yourself. you had already received a text from your date that he was home, immediately easing you of your anxieties and thoughts. your dog was cozied up on your couch as you were quietly listening to music. you eventually finished making dinner, then you would eat... then you would get ready for bed after spending some time on your phone and whatnot.

you eventually lay back down on the softness of your mattress and cushions, closing your eyes... but the moment you had tried to fall asleep, you felt... tense. anxious. something was wrong. and you had felt like you were being watched.

your dog was asleep, seemingly unalert by your surroundings... but for your comfort, you call out to your dog, who came trotting by your side. it would rest on the ground, its ears suddenly perked as it stared out your window. you freeze, watching the body language of your dog. reading it, observing it...

your instincts weren't wrong. especially when you heard footsteps going around your building a bit, especially at this time of night.

you then text wriothesley, your fingers shaking a bit.

➽ y/n: was that you?

you didn't get a response immediately, but you remained on the bed... still frozen. that was when you mustered up the courage to get up slowly, peeking through the blindfolds of your window. you were silent, and all rooms were dark. you knew your apartment was locked and tightly secured, and your dog would alert you of any intruder. but you were still terrified.

something was wrong.

and it didn't help that you saw a figure, a man wearing a hoodie, hood up and everything, surveying your building. the same one that you saw on the date with wriothesley today... did he follow you home?

you text wriothesley again. he might be asleep. maybe it's better to call him.

➽ y/n: rio??

➽ y/n: is that you outside?

➽ y/n: if it's you, you're scaring me

then you tried to call him, but to no avail. everything was going straight to voicemail. he was most likely asleep at this time, or is incredibly busy... but you breathed, trying to calm yourself.

calm, girl. calm.

maybe this guy was just... y'know. a weird neighbor. don't overthink it, but you also didn't want to actually be wrong.

taking you and your dog to your kitchen, you retrieve your kitchen knife before returning back to bed, locking your bedroom door and hiding the knife within the cabinet of your nightstand. you were unable to sleep that night, considering you stayed up all night, trying to get your thoughts together, trying to ease yourself of your anxiety.

but when you had gotten a text, you scramble to your phone, assuming it was wriothesley but...

this message is from an unsaved contact number. please block to avoid unwanted messages.

➽ unknown: you're cute. ever since you sold flowers to me that day, i fell in love with you.

➽ unknown: do you have a boyfriend? was that man with you your boyfriend earlier? i could do better than him.

➽ unknown: disregard that last message. you're mine.

you were frozen, time and space around you didn't budge, either. did you obtain... a stalker of some sort? you stared at your phone screen, unsure what was actually going on.

but you immediately alerted the police by dialing the emergency button, and it wasn't long until the cops had arrived. you escape the comfort of your home, speaking to the officers who arrived at the scene. they investigate and they looked around, to no avail. they approached you after, telling you that if you noticed any more suspicious activity, they'd be here immediately. but of course, the policemen didn't do anything until your stalker was actually there, leaving you to go back home.

the next morning, you barely had any hours of sleep, keeping your eyes wide awake and dozing off a few times due to your immense anxiety. even before the bird was awake enough to catch its worm, you decided to take you and your dog to the café to avoid your home for a while. you ordered your white mocha, sitting in silence. you cautiously looked around to see if you noticed anyone out of place, but... you didn't. at least not yet.

wriothesley hadn't answered his phone either, so you were hoping nothing had truly happened to him and he was just dead asleep or something. you sigh, not even wanting to send another text to wriothesley. if he wasn't answering, then... he wasn't answering. that was it.

after drinking your white mocha, you decided to go back home with your dog. you just decided to cancel the date for the sake of your mentality and your health.

you walked down the street with your dog, and you finally reached home. letting your dog enter first, you let go of the leash, reaching into your phone as your dog wandered off to the other room...

...but before you could send a text to wriothesley that you wanted to cancel it, you felt a hand over your mouth. your dog immediately realized what had happened, and ran towards you while barking aggressively. but your kidnapper was faster, slamming the door shut and dragging you away after drugging you through the infamous scent of chloroform on a piece of fabric. your body was limp, and your phone fell out of your hands. through the blur of your vision as you faded away, you see a text from wriothesley...

➽ rio: ??? y/n?

➽ rio: hey why aren't you answering?

➽ rio: i just woke up, my ringer was off. fuck

➽ rio: hey, where are you???? answer me now

➽ rio: i'm coming to your place right now

but, you were unable to respond, as you felt your consciousness slip away from you, succeeding in a kidnapping.

it wasn't long when wriothesley had arrived at your apartment. the first thing he saw was your phone that was dropped right in front of the door, and the aggressive barking that was taking place behind the door. he picks up your phone, and to his surprise, he finds another set of numbers that was texting you... he reads the stalker's messages, feeling rage and worry rush through his veins. were you kidnapped? were you hurt? he could see you had contacted the police too from your contact history...

god, now he was even more worried.

wriothesley opened the door of your apartment, even feeling worse when he realized your home was unlocked. greeted by your dog, he wanders in, trying to find anything... any trace of you. "y/n?" he calls out to your name before cursing underneath his breath. looking to your dog, he places your phone at its muzzle, encouraging it to try to find you through your scent.

your dog, to his surprise, begins to paw at the door. it seemed like it wanted to leave, and it had wanted him to follow. picking up the leash that slipped out of your hand earlier, he latches it to the collar of your dog before following your dog out—not until he had to lock your apartment, just in case.

your dog basically dragged and lead wriothesley to the quiet areas of the town, and it wasn't long until he had stopped in front of an old, worn out apartment complex. it was a few minutes away from where you had lived, and... given that your dog lead wriothesley to this place, he could assume you had been most likely kidnapped.

your dog even lead him to a door on the second floor building, sniffing at the door, wagging its tail. wriothesley felt himself getting more angry by the second. he faulted himself—and if he had his ringer on, he would have been awake and you'd be in much more safer hands than you are now.

"hey, open up!" wriothesley banged on the door with his fists, expecting some sort of response... but to no avail. "i said open up! i know you're in there, asshole!"

he banged his fists on the door again, but again, no response. but he wouldn't doubt the senses of your dog.

gritting his teeth, he hurled his leg back before ramming his foot onto the side of the knob. one fell swoop, and he had already knocked the door down. there, he saw you, unconscious on the floor with a fabric over your mouth. and the kidnapper was nowhere to be seen, but you were at least there.

from where wriothesley was standing, he could see you were still breathing... which was the biggest relief to him. but the bigger question for him was where was the man who laid his hands on you?

immediately rushing to your side, he was ready to scoop you into his arms... but that was when he was initiated onto a fight by your kidnapper. "you fucking—*

wriothesley avoided a hook to the head from behind, given he has experienced and history of being a fighter, this wasn't the first time he was in hand to hand combat.

the kidnapper, however, was not well experienced enough in fighting... thus became nothing but a pure punching bag for wriothesley. he was given blows to the face, over and over, blood and punishment filled the room as he practically learned his lesson of "fuck around and find out", but with the wrong woman and her significant other.

soon eventually, wriothesley had won the fight, where he immediately called law enforcement and pulled you into his arms. you were safely escorted to the hospital, and the police had taken your phone as evidence due to the text messages, and had arrested your kidnapper.

luckily enough, you were resting peacefully, making a full recovery. you weren't hurt, and luckily nothing bad had truly happened to you... otherwise wriothesley would have murder on his record.

you were in the hospital bed, deep asleep, and next to you was wriothesley who never left your side. he had answered questions to law enforcement, provided information to the nurses like your birthday and what had happened... but luckily, you had woken up later on that day. from there, you had provided information to wriothesley, letting him know what happened and such... but terribly so, he felt incredibly bad.

you shake your head, placing a hand on his arm, "no, no. don't blame yourself. really. please don't, rio."

wriothesley gritted his teeth, but he had calmed down when you had touched his arm. he sighed, taking your hand into his own. "...fuck. this is just... ugh."

you fell silent.

"...i'm just glad you aren't too hurt. i would've actually done something horrible if you were." wriothesley said, looking towards you with seriousness in his eyes.

"...but i'm okay, alive and awake. you saved me regardless. and i want to thank you for it."

wriothesley sighed again. "...yeah. as long as you're fine and well. that's all that truly matters to me."

it wasn't long until you were finally admitted from hospital, and of course... wriothesley took you home. he made sure you were tightly secured in your home, too. but the moment he was ready to leave... he paused.

"... actually." he turns to you. "if you let me. i want to stay the night over here... i need to make sure you're fully safe."

you pause.

you knew if you tried to protest, he would try to fight it. but you smiled. you felt incredibly safe with wriothesley anyway, so... why not? you trust him, after all.

"of course. i have extra tooth brushes and everything but um... my couch isn't big enough... so you'd have to sleep on the same bed as me."

wriothesley shook his head. "that's fine with me."

as you got comfortable in your bed, wriothesley immediately joined you, but the both of you had respectful spaces. of course, wriothesley had no ill or disgusting intentions to bed you here and then, considering he was moreso concerned about your safety than anything else. but... the both of you couldn't sleep, and even with your backs turned to each other, the both of you assumed that you both were... well, asleep.

but, he was thinking about you.

as you were with him.

"...rio?" you finally spoke up. "are you awake?"

"...yeah."

he hears you shuffle as you turned over, tapping him on the shoulder. he turns to you, letting you admire him this close. he was... beautiful.

"...thank you." you say again, boldly leaning in towards his body, burying your face into his chest.

he was taken by surprise for a moment, but... he returned the affection, wrapping his arms around you as he placed his chin on top of your head. "just want you to be safe." he murmured.

you look up slowly, your eyes meeting. silence fell, and you had intuitively leaned in... brushing your lips against wriothesley's. he immediately returned your affection, grazing your lips with his own, brushing your hair back gently behind your ear.

"...safe and sound in my arms, y/n."

[anonymous-dentist]

As promised, at long last!!, here's the Spiderbit Spideypool au!! :D

-

The sun sets over Quesadilla City, breathing its last for the day.

Similarly, the guy at Cellbit's feet is also breathing his last. He's got a machete stuck through his windpipe cutting off his air, and that's probably what's making him choke. It's either that, or it's the gloved hand choking him right beneath his chin, or it's the thumb- his own- lodged in the back of his throat.

Once upon a time, this dude was one of the Federation's finest insurance sales representatives. He, just like every other disgusting piece of shit on the Federation's payroll, made a living off of scamming widows and orphans and puppies and whoever into selling their souls for mediocre insurance policies that just so happen to never apply. He has a list on his Notes app filled with all the people he's fucked over, and there's one name right at the bottom of the list that single-handedly made him a target.

Sometimes Cellbit really loves his job.

"What?" Cellbit taunts, leaning in real close to the asshole's face. He removes his hand from the man's throat and slowly moves it up to the man's mouth. He pries the man's lips open and pinches his slimy, blood-covered tongue between his pointer finger and thumb.

Smiling beneath his mask, Cellbit tilts his head just slightly- just enough to be noticeable in the dying light of the sunset- and he asks in a low, mocking voice, "Cat got your tongue?"

He laughs at the way the man's eyes widen in sheer terror.

The asshole's hand twitches; his phone, with the Notes app open, is just inches away from his trembling, spindly fingers. It's focused at the bottom of the list, and the name there:

Roier Brown

Roier is a very wealthy man with a dead son and a good-for-nothing husband. Well. He used to be a wealthy man, but then the Avengers smashed his house in with his son in it and he lost everything in the lawsuits that followed. Hence the cheap, terrible, scam insurance. It's all he can afford.

Personally speaking, Cellbit is of the opinion that Roier deserves better. But since he can't afford better on his crummy journalist salary, Cellbit torturing and murdering the man that scammed Roier out of his hard-earned money is just going to have to do.

Cellbit clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "You should know better than to try that."

'WOW, WHAT AN IDIOT!!' Voice A laughs.

'show him who's in charge around here' Voice B orders, and Cellbit lives to serve.

He twists his machete, slow.

The man gurgles at him, pale in the face and very much on death's door.

(Unfortunately for him, Cellbit has met Death himself, and She's a very nice woman. This man won't get a chance to see the Other Side, not if She has anything to say about it.)

They're on top of the roof of an abandoned gas station somewhere towards the Favela, so it really isn't surprising when there's a very annoyed whoosh of air and the soft thumping of someone landing on the roof behind Cellbit's back and tripping over his own webbing.

'SPIDER-MAN!!!' Voice A exclaims.

'my hero <3' says Voice B with all the adoration in the world.

"Shut up," Cellbit annoyedly mutters; this is his conversation with Spider-Man, thank you!

The man's eyes brighten, hopeful. Hah! As if Spider-Man would help someone like him.

On cue, a sticky thread of webbing attaches itself to the handle of Cellbit's machete just above his fingers. A tug, and the machete is yanked from the man's throat, finishing him off with one last bloodthirsty shink!!!

'finally'

Cellbit stands up and twirls dramatically, hands flying to his cheeks. His eyes, and the white eyeholes of his mask, widen in put-on shock and horror.

"Spider-Man!" he gasps. "You just killed that man!"

Spider-Man, of course, is not amused. His eyeholes narrow. Arms crossed, hip cocked... oh, he's angry.

'UH-OH!!!'

Cellbit tries not to wince at Voice A's terrified screech. Instead, he clears his throat and drops his hands to his sides, swinging them until they end up behind his back. He clasps his hands together, shrinking into himself even though he really knows that this won't work.

"Deadpool," Spider-Man coolly says.

"Spider-Man."

"What did I say about murdering people."

"...Not to do it without you?"

"Then what the fuck is this, culero?"

Spider-Man gestures towards the corpse with both of his hands... and with the machete, still loosely held in his webs over by the body. It scrapes across the roof, scuffing it up and kicking sparks up and making Cellbit actually visibly flinch.

'our baby...'

'HE NEEDS TO PAY!!!!!'

Choked, Cellbit says, "He's- it's fine."

Spider-Man, of course, knows that Cellbit isn't talking to him, so he continues his angry rant, slipping into Spanish that Cellbit only halfway pays attention to. But can you blame him? Spider-Man's suit is skin-tight, and Cellbit is a very weak man.

'HE IS FORGIVEN!!'

'our angel...'

"Muy guapo," Cellbit agrees. He sighs dreamily as Spider-Man paces around the rooftop ranting at the top of his lungs, uncaring of prying eyes. Why should he care? Anybody stupid enough to spy on Deadpool is as good as dead, everybody knows this.

Suddenly, Spider-Man rounds on him and points an accusing finger.

"And!" he snaps, back in English for the sake of poor Voice B. "You missed dinner, you piece of shit!"

Okay, this Cellbit does feel sorry about.

His eyeholes droop sadly. His shoulders sag, and he scuffs the toe of his boot against the roof.

"Desculpe, guapito," he says, and he really means it.

Spider-Man points for just a second longer before relaxing and slumping to the ground by the dead man. He picks up the man's phone, sees the name at the bottom of the list, and lets out a long, drawn-out sigh before groaning loudly and flopping onto his back on the rooftop. He holds the phone above his face, scrolling up through the list.

Cellbit takes a seat opposite him. Out of respect for the deceased, he takes one of the man's hands and covers the gaping, bleeding, rotting hole in his neck with it.

'that should make the reporters happy' Voice B comments.

'BUT IT'LL MAKE CUCURUCHO PIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSED!!!' Voice A cackles, way too excited over something that's probably actually going to give Cellbit a bigger headache than he already has thanks to his voices being annoying little shits today.

"Cucurucho won't find this guy until it's too late," he tells the voices.

A pause.

"It's already too late," he adds. "So they'll just find him later."

"If they find him," Spider-Man counters. He carelessly tosses the phone to the side and drops his hands onto his chest, watching the sun set above him. "Man, I wanted to kill this guy."

Cellbit frowns. "I didn't think you'd mind..."

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's fine. Just let me get the next one, okay?"

There are countless Federation employees. Some are agents, like the mysterious new "Agent Jabberjaw" wreaking havoc by the docks. Others are white collars, like the dead man by Cellbit's knee. And others are heroes, like the Avengers.

'i hate those guys...'

'THEY LITERALLY SUCK'

'i miss bobby...'

Voice B breaks down into sobs, and Voice A starts shouting for them to shut up and stop crying because crying can't bring the dead back to life but revenge will so they're going to get revenge obviously and Roier's gonna be right there with them and he's gonna get to choke Cucurucho with-

"Gatinho," Spider-Man says, pulling Cellbit out of his head, "help me clean up the body before the cops get here. You're supposed to be retired, remember, pendejo?"

Cellbit rolls his eyes. "I'm doing them a favor."

And Spider-Man rolls his own eyes: "I know, but they don't."

Of course they don't. The Avengers, under Cucurucho's instructions no doubt, labeled Deadpool a villain years ago back when Cellbit was more active. And then he met the love of his life and he retired from mercenary-ing to try and build a real home life for the first time in his (memorable) life.

And then Bobby died, and not even a superhuman healing factor could keep Cellbit's then-boyfriend from almost dying in the ambulance.

"Maybe we should do it out of costume," Cellbit muses.

He looks down at his costume with a small, thoughtful frown. He designed it years ago for easy movement and easier repair, but he's also gotten older. He can stab a guy, sure, but it's a little too hard to raise his arms above the shoulders for Cellbit's tastes.

Spider-Man raises a teasing eyebrow; Cellbit can't see his face, but he knows him enough to know exactly what his face is doing at all times.

"You know that I'm naked under here, right?" he asks.

The voices stop shouting at each other long enough to start giving very detailed descriptions of what they think Spider-Man looks like under his suit.

Very detailed descriptions.

"Uh," Cellbit says, voice cracking, "or we can just do it now!"

"What, you don't want to see me naked?"

'is he offering????'

'I HOPE HE IS!!'

"We get to see him naked all the time," Cellbit says, though he also knows that Spider-Man has never seen him naked. (As it turns out, Spider-Man sleeps naked, and he chose not to mention this until the honeymoon.)

Spider-Man's eyeholes crinkle in amusement. "Well, if they want to see me naked..."

He makes a grand motion with his arms before reaching for the hidden zipper on the back of his costume.

'yes!!!!'

'OH MY GOD YESSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

Cellbit flushes the same shade of red as his costume and covers his eyes with his hands. He likes Spider-Man's body, but he does not want him stripping on a roof for just anybody to see.

Spider-Man laughs. "Calma, calma, I'm teasing you, gatinho! Una broma!"

Cellbit peeks out between his fingers and sees, indeed, a fully-clothed Spider-Man.

"I knew that," he tells him. The voices call him an idiot, and so he repeats it louder: "I knew that! I knew it was a joke!"

"Ah-huh," Spider-Man says, not believing him whatsoever.

He stretches his arms above his head, groans, and hops to his feet. He stretches again, cracking his neck and shoulders.

"Guess dinner tonight is takeout," he comments.

Cellbit wrinkles his nose. "He tastes bad."

"You haven't bitten him yet, have you?"

Spider-Man sounds mildly disappointed; if anyone heard him talking like this, he'd be labeled as a villain by the end of the week. But, then again, he and Deadpool have been known for their... unique relationship since before Deadpool's retirement. They tease. They joke.

Cellbit shifts uncomfortably. "Well... no."

They have dinner together every night.

"Then how do you know he tastes bad, eh?"

Spider-Man reaches across the corpse and lightly baps Cellbit on the back of the head disapprovingly.

"We're taking him," Spider-Man tells him. Of course, Cellbit doesn't argue. How could he?

So Cellbit stands, and he goes to get the man's phone from where Spider-Man had thrown it earlier. Behind him, Spider-Man picks the man up from off of the roof and slings him over his shoulder.

God, he's strong...

'STRONG AND SMART AND HANDSOME AND BEAUTIFUL AND KIND AND'

'and generous and muscular and sweet and caring and'

...and perfect.

If Cellbit didn't know any better, he'd say that he may, in fact, have a bit of a crush on Spider-Man.

And isn't that funny?

(Roier slips into bed shortly after Cellbit does. Fresh out of the shower, he smells like Cellbit's body wash: vaguely mango-y.

He curls around Cellbit's body like a quotation mark, slotting in behind him perfectly. He holds Cellbit close, eyelashes fluttering against the back of Cellbit's head.

"You were right," he admits, words muttered into Cellbit's hair. "He tasted horrible. I brushed my teeth, like, a million times, what the fuck?"

"I told you," Cellbit says. He squeaks as he gets a pinch to his side for his troubles, ouch. "Hey!"

'do it again...'

'DUDE WHAT THE FUCK?'

"Let me pick next time," Roier says. "My turn."

"Fine."

As if Cellbit could ever tell his husband no. He deserves everything and more... though all Cellbit can offer is killings in his honor. That's all he can give, but Roier deserves more. But it's what Cellbit can provide, and so it will be what he gives him.

Cellbit can't die. He's tried, and Death has sent him back to the world of the living with a tired sigh every time. Immortality is cool and all, but...

But Roier almost died in that ambulance. Bobby did die in the house. Richarlyson could die in the next great Avengers battle. Pepito...

Once upon a time, Spider-Man was a hero. But then his son died, not that anybody outside of a select few knew that, and he stopped working with the Avengers entirely.

Blood is crusted on Spider-Man's suit, hung in the secret panel in the bedroom closet right next to Deadpool's suit.

Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, yeah, but his home life is something entirely different.

"Stop thinking," Roier orders. "I'm trying to sleep."

Cellbit smiles into his pillow. "I'll try."

It's the least he can do.)

[kaidacresto]

Obsessed with the idea that Sunset Shimmer is an alicorn BUT. For my au she wont be, at least not a true alicorn. Shes in the same situation that Sunny Starscout is in! Not enough magic to completely transform in the Equestria Girls world, but has the shadow of alicornhood, only appearing at some points.

If girly had had her emotional moment music video in Equis then she would’ve been a full on alicorn but NOOOOOO you wanted FINGERS

———————

Do not re-upload, sell, or trace my art without my permission. You can use it as reference but you gotta credit me

[minticecodes]

A (late) piece for dmcweek2024 day 4! I was buzzing to put forward something for the week. Prompt was alt universe.

AU where Eva survived the fire and had to figure out a way forward, believing the twins dead. She becomes an RPG shopkeeper selling wares ranging from antique books to magical goods (Devil May Scry). She's also out for Mundus' blood.

Image descriptions are the same as in alt.

[ID: 7 Digital illustrations and sketches. 1: Coloured illustration of a bookshop at sunset. Eva, a pale blonde middle aged woman mans the bright patterned counter. She wears a turtleneck and red shawl, has shoulder length hair, and diagonal facial burn scar and scarring on her left hand. Light rays illuminate her gently smiling face. Besides packed books, on the shelves are potion bottles, statuettes, succulents, and a displayed katana. Roses and plants decorate the shop. On the counter are a thick hardback, bookscanner, and crystal ball. Cards are displayed inside the counter. On the wall hangs a price sign, featuring doodled vital stars (large star drawn with sunglasses), holy water and fortunes. Beneath it is a rose wreathed divinity statue display, with 2 red orb offerings in a dish. 2: Eva from behind, sitting hunched alone at a table where a birthday cake sits untouched. It's a two flavour cake. By her clenched hand are crumpled tissues. Caption: 'Vergil...Dante...happy birthday...' 3: Eva bracing the Devil Sword Sparda across her shoulders, aimed at the ground. She wears a bell sleeved, ruffled funeral/wedding dress with a slit for leg movement. A veil trails behind her like a ribbon. Close ups of her show the headpiece design; a pacifier made of a long bird skill, feather, rose, and four skeletal 'legs'. 4 & 5: Trish taking on teen Dante's image: a tan teen in black, with chin length white hair, a halter neck tank top, leather pants, kneelength boots and black polish. Her leather jacket collar resembles lightning bolts. She leans against an invisible wall, one leg bent to brace her foot against it. She looks askance with arched brows, lifting shades from her face. The 2nd image is a 3/4 profile with shades perched on her forehead and popped collar. 6: Helmetless portraits of Dante and Vergil in armour, expressionless. Dante's hair is shoulder length and falls across his face. 7: Full body of 2 somewhat lanky demonic knights. One (Nelo Angelo) in black and blue with droopy horns rests his palms atop his blue broadsword's pommel, the sword upright against the ground. He stands straight, staring ahead. The other in white and red and curled horns has a palm clapped on Nelo Angelo's shoulder, other hand at his hips. Somehow the eyes on his helmet express playfulness. At his back is the hilt to a flail, the spiked ball resting on the ground by his armoured heels. They're labelled '~16' . End ID.]

Read more for some wordy backstory and sketches. TW for mentions of torture, abuse and solitary confinement surrounding the twins.

I had...so many more ideas that I'm leaving out to keep this short. It's fun to think how she'd mesh with the cast.

Like! her and Lady. Mother that lost her kid and kid that lost her mother. It writes itself how much unwitting projection can go wrong. And pretty much everything about her, the twins, and Trish :)

In terms of backstory:

After the fire she's alone. Her birth family disowned her long ago. She thinks about revamping the mansion but the idea of staying in that empty space with only memories for company is too much. So she eventually opens a small store.

Starts off paranoid and distant. Still is distant but gets entangled with the local community overtime. Greets people by name and they'll chat about how life has been going. This includes demon hunters and demons and supernatural beings living peacefully; her shop becomes a small safe haven to exchange information to stay safe.

Gets very good at forging protective charms. Haunted by the memory of the enchanted closet, smashed in and empty.

A regular is a schoolgirl who originally came to pick up reserved books for her father but stuck around because hey, this place is quiet and interesting, and the owner serves stellar teacakes. Great place to study. To Mary, Eva's kind, though odd, secretive and a little lonely.

I got inspired by Eva's association with the bangle/bracelet of time and the amulets for her fighting style. It's based around item crafting, like an RPG character slapping on every stat boosting item.

She stitches together different outfits for different needs Cardcaptor style. They're all exceedingly dramatic. It's not clear here but I wanted a bird motif to eventually come through. Phoenix motif, really.

[ID: Rough sketches: A magician esque outfit with vest, feathered tophat and cape. A longcoat with long skirt and long scarf at her back like a cape. The cape is tagged with 'spells stitched into fabric'. Close ups on the coat lapel show two pins (strawberry and wing), labelled 'charm lapel pins.' Close up of the shoes show sharp heals and ankle bracelets. Eva leaping in a black bodysuit and leotard, with feathery collar, quill behind her ear, and ballet shoes with a claw at the heel. Eva making a triangular 2 hand sign in a hooded cloak and longskirt. Around her shoulders are claws. At her hips is an hourglass. Above her heeded head is a clocklike halo. Beside her is a sketch of a woman with a lionhead mask. A funeral and wedding dress inspired outfit. Eva crouches, wielding the Devil Sword Sparda in scythe form. Her face is covered by a tattered veil. She wears a knee length ruffled dress, black gloves, and a long, ruffled cape. Close up of her left hand shows a ring and finger claws Rough comic. Chibi lady talks to chibi Eva. Lady holds up a black body suit with billowing sleeves and a cleavage window. Lady: "Eva what is this" Eva (smiling cheerfully): "Oh - that old thing!" Eva: "My old hunting outfit. Gosh I'd almost forgotten about it. Not the most comfortable thing - so skin tight..." However Lady fixates on 'my old hunting outfit'. The words go in one ear and come out as a younger Eva in a catsuit, pointing a gun with a serious expression, wind blowing through her hair. Lady stares into the distance, bewildered, and slightly blushing. End ID]

Meanwhile the twins are having a terrible time but they have each other, even if they don't remember they're brothers. I think it'd be sweet if they have a bond anyway. Everyone else thinks they're rivals at best.

(Nelo is Mundus' favourite to toy with as the proud, eldest son. But when he gets rough, Bianco butts in and acts up for Mundus' attention. This gets him sent to solitary confinement; Mundus figured out Bianco hates small spaces and designed an iron maiden for him. Others think Bianco is a brute who acts out for a fight. But that's ok. It means Bianco can keep buying Nelo time.) (When lucid, Nelo despises his own weakness when this happens.)

[ID: 2 Images. Nelo and Bianco Angelo in fisticuffs in a cartoony dustcloud, glaring at each other as they fight. They're captioned 'Mundus' most competent generals'. Additional text: 'silent, obedient, crushing force when apart. Perfect soldiers. ... until they're put together. Complement each other's battle style OR clash terribly. Nelo Angelo staring off, arms crossed and furrowed eyes somehow expressing being completely fed up. Behind him, Bianco and Griffin talk at each other. Griffin's glaring. Bianco has a hand up to gesture. End ID]

[lotus-n-l0ve]

𝐈 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

— Kyojuro Rengoku x Oiran!Reader

SYNOPSIS : Falling in love is a sin that you didn't want to commit but when he is Kyojuro Rengoku, what can you do?

WARNINGS : Historical au, prostitution, Tengen is not married, mention of sex, cursing, open ending, a little angst, 0.6k words.

LOTUS'S NOTE : I was reading a lot of Rengoku smut today and just couldn't stop myself but write this fic. The fic title is from the song 'Seven' by Jeon Jungkook. I'm so bad at writing notes. Reposting this for the seventeenth time and I am not exaggerating (⁠��⁠↼⁠_⁠↼⁠).

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 // 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Falling in love was the worst sin you could have committed. Oirans were not allowed to fall in love, in fact they were not allowed to have any kind of feelings. They sell their body and that's their business. Having any kind of emotions other than hunger for money is an inconvenience. But you dared to commit the painful crime. You fell in love, that too with a customer and how could you not?

Between the mass of beautiful women and men, your eyes fell on a pair of blazing ones. He was easy to spot. Where everyone else was having fun, choosing who to disappear with, he looked like a lost soul there. Anyone who takes a look at him could tell that it was his first time and had no prior experience.

However the tall, white haired man beside him seemed to be a pro. How he talked to everyone, his attitude, his confidence was enough proof. The blazing eyes, as if feeling your stare, turned in your direction and fell on your sitting form. The eye contact raised a different kind of emotion in your heart. What is this feeling?

The man beside him followed his eyes' direction and saw you. With an encouraging and proud grin, the white haired man nudged him your way. And that's how it all started. "Kyojuro Rengoku" that's what he introduced himself as, with a smile that can give a competition to the sun.

As the night went deep, you escorted the man to your personal bedroom. Not to be cliche but he was different from the other men you had entertained before. One after another article of clothing came off, exposing yourself to each other.

Even if all you did was, as usual, have sex, his touch didn't make you feel dirty. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman to ever exist. His warm and rough hand traced every line on your body with passion while yours marked his back with scratches. His lips colour you in the most alluring colour. In the end you were so dazed that at the end you fell into slumber without any fight.

The next morning you woke up with a clean body, instead of the usual sticky one, tucked safely under the warm duvet. A note filled out with neat cursive words spelling the most beautiful words anyone had ever said. At the end he wrote, 'See you soon, till the goodbye.' beside it was a cartoon-ish drawing of a crow.

You burst out in laughter. Who writes this kind of things to an oiran? He said see you soon. Does that mean he will come again?

From that morning all you could think about was Rengoku. From the loud cheers of children outside to the orange hue of sunset, everything reminded you of him. You had entertained many customers after that day but everytime you unconsciously tried to find the Hashira in them.

He returned two weeks later, this time without that tall friend. The events repeated again. You escorted him to your room, helped each other out of the clothes and got lost in each other. This time, unlike the previous one, you were desperate to feel him against you, for him to make you feel like you are not worthless.

These events repeated again and again, and each time you were more eager to see the flame hashira. His visits were not constant. Sometimes he would come twice a week and sometimes he would disappear for months. Nights that you spent fucking turned into sharing about your days and passionate love making.

Even before you knew it you were in love. In love with the flame hashira. But it was not a luxury that you could afford. You were an oiran, a sex worker, a whore and on the other hand he was a well respected and well loved hashira, everyone's hero.

© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarize any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.

All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.

[uncreativeuser27]

22 hours later lmao (my longest drawing ever)…

This is based on a K2 idea I’ve had a while, but only seen written once or twice (I think)

For an idea that came out of nowhere, I sure do have a lot to say about it lmao. Please show any appreciation you have with comments, likes, reblogs, ANYTHING. I BEG of you, I have no one to show this to in real life, and I’m scared of strangers in the internet /hj /lh

More information and ranting under the cut if you want to hear a sad, pathetic artist out /j

Basically, it’s how they decide to close off their roleplay game: with a wedding to unite the two kingdoms! That wedding being between King Kyle and Princess Kenny. I imagine they tweaked the story as they got older (yes, they’re older in this drawing, if you can’t tell from their designs and Stan’s blond hair. They’re nothing that pisses this fandom off more than shipping children when they’re children lmao /hj)

Small headcanon for a high school AU: They end up doing a lot of tabletop roleplay (like their own spin on DnD), for big events like this, they will go back to their roots of LARPing.

I had an idea while drawing it that Stan and Cartman formed a bet about if Kyle would actually kiss Kenny or not. The concept is based on the idea that Kyle has a crush on Kenny and Stan thinks it would be a perfectly romantic way to confess, but Cartman thinks it would be too gay and that Kyle would never ruin something like that. I’ve been watching the show starting from the first season, and I remembered how much Cartman would go through to win a bet (and also how many bets were formed, which was a surprising amount), so it seemed fitting

Stan wins the bet. Obviously.

I just haven’t figured out how I’d want to write it, so I might write something if I can flesh it out well enough.

A few drawing comments about this, uhh. I totally traced the gazebo lmao. I found a random photograph of a gazebo that looked like they were selling it, and I tried to free hand it, but after an hour, I just gave up and traced it. Don’t hate me, please. I promise I’m not a fraud. I just suck at perspective and backgrounds :’) it’s also my second drawing with a genuine background (that isn’t abstract or barely detailed). Also, the sunset was such a last minute decision. The sky was supposed to be blue, but that felt boring, and I LOVE dramatic lighting

I think that’s all. Please tell me about my art. This took forever, and I have 0 friends that I can show this to in real life without getting weird looks, so if you have any thoughts at all, you can tell me. I’m on my virtual hands and KNEES /hj

(Yes, Kenny’s wig fell off)

[cookie-de-baunilha]

I love this thread so much, this is super interesting.

I love John but he truly is, as I like to call, “the Barbie of English colonialism”, and there’s no denying that lol

I guess you can admire the loyalty but he is sided with a power that ultimately is against him and has killed men like him.

YES, exactly. I’ve been saying this: it’s really damn ironic that the social political values that John upholds are rooted in the same conservative values that would make society™️ (and the status quo he so dearly stands up for) turn its back on him in light speed if the secret of his sexuality was ever uncovered.

I wanted to hit him on the face when Richardson asked him about his opinions on slavery and he acted all arrogant like of course I’m against it!! how could you possibly think otherwise?!? like he was some kind of abolitionism agent hmm excuse me sir, you were the Governor of Jamaica???? Why should Richardson think you are against slavery, I wonder? Lmao

He can condemn slavery on a personal level all he wants, but that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t do anything meaningful about it with the power and influence that he has.

Ok, gonna stop here because I’m not digging this hole now.

Anyway, I like the idea of a modern AU that deals with John being privileged and not challenging the status quo unless it benefits him somehow. Cop/PI John fits really well with this concept.

Because I haven’t seen many alternatives besides him being a cop, here’s an idea for a nice character development in a modern AU: he starts as a detective but then something happens and he begins to see how fcked up the whole system is and starts questioning things (including his privilege and elitism); eventually he drops the police force and becomes an investigative journalist.

Not sure if investigative journalism ever showed up on modern LJG AUs, but it’s an interesting endgame if you want the character to end up as more disruptive and less conformative.

Definitely feel like John Grey would be the kinda guy to say “oh they just had to listen to the cops and do what they said and they would have been fine” when asked about police brutality.

As much as he is not like the institution and goes against the institution when he wants - he’s gay, he protects a convicted traitor, his son isn’t a legitimate heir to his titles etc. - he is very much still supportive of the institution.

I guess you can admire the loyalty but he is sided with a power that ultimately is against him and has killed men like him. John isn’t a shaker. He has power and prestige and family as long as he keeps his head down.

Like John would be the kinda gay in the modern world that wouldn’t “flaunt his gayness” and “isnt like those gays who act like freaks”. He’s born with enough privilege that life is easy enough. I’m mean he’s not entirely without sympathy but still you know what I mean?

TBC a character analysis of LJG vs. James Flint and how/why their characters do/don’t support the British Empire with a side of class analysis…

[suzukiblu]

Day eighteen of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

“Definitely somewhere nice,” Tim says, trying not to get distracted by watching Kon drink the last of his smoothie. Why is this bastard  so attractive all the time, anyway? Tim doesn’t think Superman is attractive. Superman is just, like, generically and creepily too-perfectly handsome. Like a Ken doll or AI art. Kon looks like somebody with an actual personality. 

Tim is aware that Superman possesses an actual personality, yes, but it’s one that he spends half his life fucking lying about in one direction or another, so Tim doesn’t think it should even count at this point. Kon is honest. Genuine. Superman? Superman is sincere, maybe, but also is the asshole who’s let Kon think he doesn’t have a secret identity and left him to rot in a shitty lab and only just took him to the Fortress for the first time. 

Robin hasn’t told Kon his real name either, but at least Kon knows he has one. He can’t tell him his identity, but he was clear about that from the start and clear about its existence. Superman doesn’t tell Kon much of anything, Tim’s realizing. 

He wonders if Kon even knew the Fortress existed before Superman took him to it. He wonders if that’s the only time Superman's ever told him anything about Krypton. 

Considering what a big deal gets made of Superman being the last member of a dead civilization and dying race, you’d think he’d fucking care about telling his only genetic relative about it. Or just care about that relative, if nothing else. Which–look, Supergirl isn’t actually Kryptonian, she’s a protoplasmic matrix from an alternate universe who was loosely based on one, and Steel is an unenhanced human inside his armor. But Kon wasn’t just based on Superman, though, didn’t just take up the “S” out of respect–Kon was made directly from him, and made to be him. Has actual Kryptonian DNA in him and personal reasons to maybe care about Krypton as more than a very brief mention in someone else's history; has Superman’s DNA, and is probably the closest thing Superman’s ever going to get to seeing another Kryptonian who isn’t a probably-murderous Phantom Zone escapee. 

As far as Tim can tell, though, Superman thinks Kon’s an accessory more than anything else, and not even one he particularly cares to trot out. Like a stray dog in his neighborhood that he occasionally pets or leaves some kibble out for, but hasn’t bothered getting vaccinated or actually taking inside. Superboy isn’t his sidekick or his partner or anyone he supports outside of the occasional temporary emergency; he’s just some random kid he spares a moment for every now and then. Not a consistent presence in his life; not someone he considers a responsibility in his life. 

Tim exhales, carefully packs up the thoughts that are a little bit too “supervillain” for this stage in the process, and goes to find the clerk, who’s very happy to sign them up for a plan and accident insurance and sell them the phone and case and also some screen protectors and earbuds and a UV sanitizer and electronic wipes and then one of those PopSocket grip things with a neon-tinted sunset and some palm trees silhouetted on it. Tim seriously considers getting Kon a tablet too, but maybe that can wait a week or so; Kon’s looking a little overwhelmed right now. 

. . . then again, they’re already here, so . . . 

One tablet and a new set of screen protectors and another case and additional accident insurance later, the clerk is delighted enough that Tim knows they make commission and Kon is staring at him in obvious bewilderment as he pays for it all. 

“Hey, Tim,” Kon says very slowly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but do you maybe have, like, some impulse control issues?” 

“No,” Tim lies as he programs his civilian number into Kon's contacts, then hands him his all set-up new phone and takes the very full bags with everything else in them from the clerk. “Wanna go walk around a little?” 

Specifically, go walk around until he spots something else he can justify buying for Kon. Maybe more jeans, if nothing else. He can say it'll be easier than having to buy Kon a new outfit every time they want to hang out. 

Not that he won't be doing that anyway, given half a chance, but Kon doesn't know that. 

Yet.

“Um, sure,” Kon says, and they head out of the store, leaving a very pleased salesperson behind with their commission. “You know, I can carry those, you don't have to–” 

“I'm kind of enjoying it, honestly,” Tim says with a shrug. He actually is, if only for the novelty factor of being the one carrying something for Kon for once. Kon turns red again and Tim immediately finds a new reason to enjoy carrying the bags. 

“Uh,” Kon says, glancing down at his new phone and turning it over in his hands. “Okay.” 

They walk a little as Kon plays with his phone, downloading apps and rearranging icons on the screen, and Tim keeps an eye out for tempting stores. They just ate, technically, so lunch can probably wait until they've hit another one or two. They could go to a movie, maybe; it'd reinforce Kon getting used to him paying for things. Wouldn't really get him anything material, though, and Tim's really trying to do as much of that as he can right now. Just in case Kon loses interest too quickly, he means. 

Well, he's got other identities to use, if he needs them. He can keep trying until Kon stays interested long enough to get him to the full execution of the lifestyle change. Tim can be patient, if it takes a few tries. He definitely wouldn't have picked his actual identity for this plan, if he'd thought of it sooner. 

. . . hm. Jewelry, maybe? Kon only really wears the one earring, but that’s just in the field anyway. Maybe he’d be up for some more accessories off it. The piercers obviously are out, but it’s still an option. Or boots or shoes that aren’t actually a part of his costume, or some new sunglasses. Salon and beauty supplies are an obvious no, art supplies definitely aren’t gonna appeal, he doubts the record store or comic shop or bookstore would either, he’s not even going to glance at Victoria’s Secret, he doesn’t know about the game store, and they’re definitely not going to the Hallmark Store or Yankee Candle. 

Or, god forbid, Bath & Body Works. 

Clothes are probably the best bet at this point, yeah, Tim is pretty sure. They can hit up a department store or something, maybe. Or maybe . . . well, he’s not sure, because he actually has no idea how Kon would want to dress if he weren’t in costume. Like, at all. 

He also doesn’t really know if Kon has any interests or hobbies beyond, like, watching Wendy the Werewolf Stalker and hitting on pretty girls. Does he? Like, what does he actually do in his downtime? 

Considering Tim is ninety-four percent certain Kon would die for literally anyone on the team, including himself, it’s a little weird to not know what he does to just . . . relax, or whatever. 

Okay. Start with jewelry, shoes, and clothes, and then use the browsing and window-shopping time to subtly interrogate Kon about what else he’s interested in checking out. That’s a reasonable plan of attack. He’ll take Kon to the cheesy airbrush T-shirt store or goddamn Build-A-Bear, if the bastard wants, that’s–

Hm. Actually . . . 

Well, it might be a stupid idea, or at least an idea Kon would think was stupid, but . . . 

Tim adjusts his route as he rolls over the idea currently in his head. Maybe it is stupid, but it’s, well . . . date-like, isn’t it? Like, it’s something he’d definitely have done for Steph or Ariana if he’d thought they’d like it. And this still isn’t their first date or even really a date at all, because Tim has standards and Kon deserves them, but that doesn’t mean he should be half-assing things here. 

Also, literally any excuse to buy Kon something, at this point. Even a kind of silly thing. 

“I want to check on something,” he says, and Kon glances sidelong at him again, looking curious. 

“Check on what?” he asks. 

“That'd be a spoiler,” Tim says, then crosses over to the toy store across the walkway. “Over here.” 

“Aren't we a little too old for this place?” Kon says, squinting skeptically up at the brightly-colored sign. “Actually I'm pretty sure I was born too old for this place.” 

“Who cares?” Tim asks, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“. . . alright, valid response,” Kon allows with a wry grin, then follows him into the store. Tim hasn't been in a toy store for anything not Robin-related in ages unless he counts the occasional game store visit, and even that he hasn't done in a while, so it is a little weird walking into one again. Still, he's got an idea and he's on a mission, so it's whatever.  

He glances around and finds what he's looking for pretty quick on a top-to-bottom wall of long shelves, then heads towards them. Kon keeps following him, looking around with badly-concealed curiosity. 

It occurs to Tim that Kon has possibly never actually been in a toy store before. He didn't make it sound like he had been with that “born too old” comment, at least, so unless he got roped into an appearance to promote some Superboy action figure or another . . . 

Not that Tim knows anything about any theoretical Superboy action figures or anything. And he definitely doesn't own three. 

. . . look, technically the one came with the–never mind. 

Tim looks over the wall of shelves while Kon looks at basically everything else, then makes a triumphant noise when he spots what he's after. He wasn't sure they'd have one. He transfers all of the shopping bags to one hand, leans down and plucks his find off the shelf, and then straightens back up and wags it at Kon with a smug smirk. 

“Gift shop stand-in,” he says. Kon blinks at him, then at the soft and fluffy stuffed goat in his hand. It doesn't particularly resemble the clay idol from the museum except in the sense of also being a goat, but it's still on-theme, Tim figures. 

“Huh?” Kon says. Tim pushes the goat at him. Kon takes it, looking bewildered. 

“I'm getting it for you,” Tim clarifies. “Consider it me making good on an IOU and also commemorating how good you are at your job.” 

Kon blinks again. Tilts his head. Looks down at the goat in his hands. 

Maybe it is a stupid idea, Tim thinks with a flash of uneasy self-consciousness. Maybe Steph or Ariana would've gone for something like this, but they're both girls, and Kon's a lot more concerned about looking “cool” than either of them ever were, and actually, presenting a guy he barely knows even counting the superheroics they're both regularly doing together with a fluffy little stuffed goat with white fur and stubby horns and, Tim is belatedly realizing, a brown heart-shaped spot over one of its eyes, is probably not the smoothest move anyone has ever pulled. Like–as far as flirting goes, a kid's toy is probably the literal antithesis of sexy or interesting, and Kon's used to, like, confident older women and beach bunnies in little bikinis and the celebrity treatment, not like, stupid kiddie stuff. 

Well, there's a reason Tim wouldn't have picked Tim Drake for this plan if he'd actually set the whole thing up in advance as opposed to just tripping face-first into a convenient opportunity. 

“I mean, if you want it,” he backtracks uncomfortably, suddenly feeling more than a little embarrassed about the whole idea. He'd thought it was date-like enough, getting somebody you were flirting with a stuffed animal. Though in retrospect usually that's, like, teddy bears on Valentine's Day and flowers and chocolate are involved, not just a freaking random goat you just plucked off a mall toy store shelf and–

“Uh,” Kon says, flicking his eyes up from the goat to look at him again, and his face is suddenly very, very red. “Okay. Sure.”