#has a local area code

[propertyofkylar]

a while ago some rando kept trying to facetime me but i had no idea who it is so i never answered and i tried to find out who it was but never could. anyway that person just tried calling me and it reminded me of all this

[adaine-party-wizard]

gritting my teeth and stopping myself from getting involved in a Discourse on the misunderstanding webbed site because i know it won’t end well for me

[humming-fly]

Hey All I wanted to share a resource with my US peeps that I was sent recently that I think is really nicely organized!

my local student union put together this great list of folks to call on different funding committees in the House and Senate (originally organized to reach out about federal funding cuts to research, something that’s been effecting me and everyone I work with a ton), so take a look at this list and give everyone from your state a call!

(For those worried about clicking mystery links the lists look like this and goes on for several pages 👍)

Since it lists all of the members in those committees that means that there are multiple representatives per state in most of them, which means that even if you live in a blue area you can find those red seats that you can and should contact within your own state! (You should also be contacting the Dems too! We need that overwhelming public opinion right now)

Bonus scripts and motivational gifs under the cut for those that would like those resources!

If you’re nervous about calling here’s a script sheet (it mostly focuses on public research funding, since this list was made for the National Institute of Health cuts), but the most important thing is just to call, say your name and state/zip code, and a real quick bullet summary of your concerns!

As of May 13th 2025 here’s a new (and easier to use imho) script sheet!

Examples:

I’m worried cuts to the forestry sector will raise fire risk

I’m worried cuts to the aviation industry will make flights unsafe

I’m worried we’re firing people crucial to our national security

I’m concerned that cutting research funding and putting so many people out of a job will stagnate the economy

I think these funding and staff cuts will severely damage the United State’s ability to compete internationally

I’m worried these funding cuts will damage our public health

I’m alarmed at the risk of Medicare being cut

I didn’t vote for Elon Musk and am alarmed he’s moving without congress’ approval

My job has already been impacted by [XYZ] and I need the representative to do something about it

etc. - these examples are mostly just for funding and staff cuts, but you can also bring up more bullet points like calling out Trump’s embrace of Russia/calling himself a King/etc. as constitutional concerns you want this representative you’re calling to address.

Pick any or all of these to list off during the call and then just keep rolling!

And finally some bonus motivational gifs to look at while you work through the list:

[breelandwalker]

A Reminder to my U.S. Witches -

Whether you're a private practitioner or a witchy business owner, it is now more important than ever to KNOW YOUR RIGHTS.

Wicca as a religion is officially protected by Freedom of Religion under the First Amendment. This extends somewhat to other less organized pagan religions as well as the general state of Being A Witch, which is also protected by Freedom of Speech.

But we must remember that this only protects you from PROSECUTION, not PERSECUTION.

You have the legal right to present as a pagan or witch in public spaces and technically you cannot be discriminated against in the workplace for such things. However, we all know how that kind of bigotry disguises itself and the way things are going, resources for reporting and resolving such grievances may soon be in short supply.

You also have the right to own and operate a pagan-oriented or witchcraft-related business, provided that you obey all applicable tax codes and consumer protection laws. (This is why we have to mark so many of our goods and services as "For Entertainment Purposes Only," and I strongly suggest updating your disclaimers to include additional language if need be.)

Again, as we've seen, this doesn't always protect business owners from harassment or help them with seeking reparations if there's trouble. But it's important to know, as more and more "proclamations" roll out from the "new management," that executive orders do not immediately or fundamentally change the law.

This is nowhere near a comprehensive explanation of the constitutional rights and laws applicable to witches and pagans currently living in the United States. I urge everyone to familiarize themselves with all applicable laws in their area which deal with public gatherings, small businesses, consumer protection, public transit, loitering, search & seizure / "stop & frisk," and anything related to being detained by law enforcement for any reason.

Familiarize yourself also with social and legal resources in your area, just in case you or someone you know needs them. Talk to the elders in your local LGBTQ organizations as well - we've been there before.

Most importantly, build links and relationships with trusted people around you, whether it's your neighbors or your colleagues or like-minded people in the community. We all need to be looking out for each other and the more we know, the better we can protect ourselves, our homes, our livelihoods, our communities, and our rights.

(If anyone has any applicable links or information, PLEASE add them in comments and reblogs.)

Stay safe!

[reiding-writing]

Cold!reader who defends Spencer when’s someone’s making fun of his autistic traits, and the teams like “what?????”

STAGNANT — SPENCER REID!

why would someone ask spencer a question if they didn’t want to hear the answer?

late s8!spencer x cold!reader 1.2k fluff? cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — the cold!reader roster i have atm has me kicking my feet and twirling my hair, stay tuned

You step into the cramped precinct in a town that barely makes the map, the smell of stale coffee and old paper immediately hitting you.

The air hums with tension—murder cases tend to have that effect on a room. Your team disperses, each member diving into their respective tasks like clockwork.

You stay near Spencer, keeping an eye on the board he’s already scouring, his sharp mind undoubtedly miles ahead of everyone else’s.

It doesn’t take long for the local officers to start asking questions. You’ve seen it before: their curiosity morphing into disbelief as they’re confronted with Spencer Reid in full form.

This particular case involves a peculiar type of soil found on the victim’s shoes, and when one officer, a grizzled man named Officer Moore, offhandedly asks about its significance, Spencer lights up.

“It’s fascinating, actually,” he begins, his voice picking up with enthusiasm. “The soil contains traces of montmorillonite clay, which is common in areas with volcanic ash deposits. This specific type is unique to the western side of the county, and based on the composition—” He gestures to the samples bagged on the table, oblivious to the officer’s quickly fading interest.

Spencer continues, lost in his explanation, his words flowing like water over smooth stones. You watch the officer shift uncomfortably, his expression hardening into impatience. The moment Spencer pauses to breathe, Moore cuts in, looking at you with a smirk.

“Is he like this all the time? Never shuts up, huh?”

You freeze. The room, bustling moments ago, seems quieter now. Your team is too far off to hear, but you’re right here. Close enough to feel the sting of the comment.

Spencer doesn’t notice. Or maybe he pretends not to. Either way, it doesn’t sit right with you. The dismissive tone, the condescension dripping from the officer’s words��it sparks a heat under your skin that you don’t bother to hide.

“Are you stupid?” Your voice is sharp, like a knife scraping metal. Moore’s smug expression falters.

“Excuse me-?”

“You heard me,” you continue, stepping closer, your gaze fixed on him. “If you can’t keep up with what Dr. Reid is saying, that’s your problem. He’s giving you answers—solutions—that you clearly wouldn’t find on your own. So maybe try listening instead of running your mouth.”

Moore blinks, taken aback. His hand hovers near the cup of coffee on the table, forgotten. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah, you did.” you interrupt, crossing your arms. “And for the record, if he’s too much for you to handle, then stay out of his way, you’ll murk his IQ into single digits.”

The room is quiet now, the subtle hum of computers and distant voices the only sound. Spencer finally looks up, his expression unreadable. There’s a hint of surprise in his eyes, but mostly he just seems... confused.

Moore mutters something under his breath and stalks off, clearly not willing to press the issue further. Good. You watch him go, your blood still simmering.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Spencer says softly, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty.

“Yes, I did,” you reply without hesitation. “He was being a jerk.”

Spencer tilts his head, studying you. “People say things like that all the time.”

“Well, they shouldn’t,” you counter, your tone firm. “And if you wont put your foot down about it then I will.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, as if trying to decipher some hidden code in your words. Then, unexpectedly, he smiles—small and fleeting, but genuine. It feels like a victory, however minor.

—

Later, when the team regroups, the tension in the precinct has eased, though you can still feel a few lingering stares from the local officers.

Hotch gives you all the rundown of the next steps, his voice steady and commanding as always. You nod along, but your focus drifts to Spencer, who’s scribbling something in his notebook, seemingly unbothered by the earlier incident.

As the team breaks off to get to work, Emily sidles up beside you, her dark eyes alight with curiosity. “So,” she begins, drawing out the word. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?” you reply, feigning ignorance.

“That little showdown with Officer Grumpy Pants earlier,” she says, smirking. “Word has it you tore him a new one,”

You shrug. “He was being disrespectful.”

Emily raises an eyebrow. “To Reid?”

“To all of us, honestly,” you say. “But yeah, mostly Reid. He didn’t deserve that.”

Emily studies you for a moment, her smirk softening into something more thoughtful. “Awe how sweet,”

“Don’t start,” you warn, but there’s no real bite to your words. Emily laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender.

“Hey, no judgment,” she says. “It’s just... very human of you.”

“I’m not a robot.”

She gestures vaguely toward you. “Oh hush you know what I mean,”

You roll your eyes but don’t bother arguing. Instead, you glance across the room at Spencer, who’s now deep in conversation with JJ and Rossi. The earlier exchange seems to have rolled off him, as if it never happened.

But you know better. You’ve seen the way comments like that stick, the way they fester in that moment f hesitation before he speaks. You’re not sure why it matters so much to you—why he matters so much—but you don’t dwell on it.

—

The case drags on into the evening, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. By the time the unsub is in custody and the team is preparing to head back to the jet, exhaustion hangs heavy in the air.

As you gather your things, Morgan claps a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, Ice Queen,” he says, his tone teasing. “You did good.”

“Thank you? I was doing my job.” you reply, shooting him a bemused look.

He chuckles. “Not with the case, sweetness. Word is you went full gladiator on one of the locals earlier.”

“Word travels way too fast in this team,” you mutter.

Morgan grins. “What can I say? We’re a nosy bunch. But it’s nice to know you haven’t lost your bite now you’re saddled up to boy wonder.”

He gestures with his head towards where Spencer was sleeping on the jet’s couch, wrapped in a cheap blanket like baby.

You fight back the urge to smile.

“I never changed,” you say dryly.

Morgan laughs, but there’s a glimmer of respect in his eyes. “Sure you did,”

“No I didn’t,”

He nudges your shoulder, a whisper of “You’ll admit it one day,” before he walks off.

[funishment-time]

🧠 PLEASE DO NOT PIRATE THE HUNDRED LINE: LAST DEFENSE ACADEMY ON APRIL 24TH 🧠

WHY THO? ➡️ Kazutaka Kodaka has said on many occasions that this is literally make or break for TooKyo Games due to production issues and the resulting debt while making it. The company did not have money for ports or for additional languages, or physical versions in some areas. Additionally, he will likely leave the game industry if it doesn't sell. I suppose that final bit could be a joke, but I'd rather not risk it.

In short: to pirate The Hundred Line is not sticking it to Bethesda's spaghetti coding or EA's nonsensical manufacturing line of Sims DLC, but rather an indie studio.

But we're all short on money these days and shit's expensive. I understand. I get by on an income of lint and those mint chocolates you can eat at the Olive Garden. So while I ultimately can't control what you do, random citizen, I've provided alternate means to pirating on this post.

➡️ "I would like to try the game before buying it."

Here is the Steam demo.

Here is the Switch demo.

Both provide about 5ish hours of gameplay, both story and tactical modes, and it should be enough for you to make a decision.

➡️ "I would like to play the actual game."

Digitally, you can get it on Steam or on the Switch, as stated.

(Good news: it'll also be compatible with the Switch 2!)

Physical copies will be sold in the US and Japan. (Unsure on China.) Take a look online or at your local retailer! There's even a spectacular pre-order package with eggstras.

You can also try joining a Steam Family with a friend who owns a copy of the game. Of course, you'll have to sort-of take turns playing it, but it's better'n nothing.

If you're really desperate, see if you're qualified for a short-term pay-over-time plan from Paypal etcetera. I don't recommend it, but I assume we're all adults here. Make your own financial decision!

➡️ "I don't mind if I just experience the game."

Have a friend stream it for you over Discord or another platform! Pool money if you must to purchase one (1) person the copy.

There's also no restrictions on streams and no restrictions on spoilers, so...

...your favorite Let's Players or streamers might be glomming onto the game ASAP, if you don't mind waiting a bit.

You can also politely ask/suggest that your fave content creators, if they're small enough that they still listen to individual fans, play or stream the game. (Don't be annoying, though, and make sure they're into games like this first.)

➡️ "I would like a physical copy."

See the third bullet under "I would like to play the actual game."

There is sadly no official physical copy for Europe as of writing, so I would look at the other sections if you're over yonder. I believe you can import into Europe, though.

You might also be able to flash a cartridge or USB or CD or something of the digital version if you already own it please. (Don't make a cartridge of it if you didn't buy the game, like. That's defeating the point.) I don't quite know how this works, but I'm putting it here anyway.

➡️ "You're a bootlicker/I am owed this content/sorry Kodaka but I'm built different/Danganronpa sucks and this will too/I'm not giving money to a [racist implication about Japanese culture]."

ok

[dykeforhire]

The Gift of Opportunity

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Description: Rossi recommends Emily to a ‘special service’ after finding out she’s having a bit of a sexual dry spell.

Warnings: (18+) porn with plot, escort!reader, strap!on use, bottom!emily prentiss cuz imma freak like that.

Words: 11.3k (plot addict)

Available on AO3

Masterlist

Taglist: @agenderrat @leolionsblog @keepinggcomposure @prentisslvrsworld @sarahjohannson @prentgarcialuvr @seasonsmaywinter @lez-talk1 @mrsines @lcprentissmills @bjkbk

…

“Oh, come on…” 

“What?” JJ raises a brow, looking between Emily and Rossi curiously.

“Is everybody around here getting laid except me?” Emily groans, admiring the faint glow that seems to be emanating from JJ.

“Well, I’m not.”  Rossi butts in, and both women turn to him with a confused expression.

“Wow…” Emily raises her brows.

“I’m sorry, gallows humor, but it’s all I’ve got right now.” Rossi deadpans.

“You know what? I will take gallows humor over no humor.” Emily chuckles, reaching a hand out and patting Rossi’s bicep before spinning around and walking down the hall, continuing the conversation they’d been having prior.

…

A knock on Emily’s office door pulls her out of the pile of work she’d been shoving herself into for the past couple of hours.

“Hey, do you need something?” Emily asks, eyeing Rossi and the peculiarly devious expression he wore.

“No, just stopping in before I head out, I did want to ask you something though…” Rossi steps through the door, moving forward to stand behind the chairs in front of Emily’s desk.

“What is it?” Emily sighs, going through all the possible questions he could possibly ask in her head.

“Y'know, how we were talking earlier about not getting laid?” He leans against the chair.

“Yes.” Emily sighs, smiling to herself as she rubs at her temple.

“Well, I wanted to share one of my little secrets with you…” Emily’s eyes shoot up, brows creased.

“There’s this… special service, I haven’t used it in ages but, it’s an excellent establishment. Very clean, very well done, and very discreet.” Rossi’s hands make vague motions as he describes.

“Dave.. I am not paying for sex. That’s so very unethical, I can easily go out and find someone…” Emily shifts her gaze to her hands resting on the desk, trying to remember the last time she even had a date, let alone one that ended with sex. 

“I’m sure that’s very true. But, if you ever want something easier…” Rossi pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “Don’t hesitate to call, and make sure to tell them I sent you.” He places the paper on the edge of the desk.

With a quick smile, Rossi shows himself out. Emily scoffs, watching his form fade down the hall. She turns back to the pile she’d been working on, scribbling down a few notes before the glint of the paper on her desk catches her eye. She looks up at the open door and back to the paper. 

Straightening herself out, she reaches for it. Holding it between her fingers for a moment before unfolding it. Divine Feminine Valet, the card read in a shiny cursive font. Below the label, is a single phone number with a local area code.

“Jesus Rossi…” Emily shakes her head, her silver hair slightly disheveled from the stress of the day. She sighs, running a hand through the locks, brushing it back.

She takes the card and drops it into her purse beneath the desk, chewing her bottom lip.

Am I really going to do this? Emily ponders. Though the idea of calling an escort service to finally get a little action feels absolutely foul, she can’t help but wonder if it might be worth it… 

It has been quite a while… and she could definitely use the stress relief. 

No. Why would that even be a consideration? The weight of her conscience is knee-buckling. 

But, what if? Emily pushes herself up from the desk abruptly. Grabbing her bags and coat and heading out the door. 

As usual, she is the last to exit the bullpen. The sound of her heeled boots clacking on the tile, disrupting the peaceful serenity of the empty federal building. 

As Emily enters the parking garage, she remote starts her car, the engine’s rumble echoing through the concrete corridors. She slips into the driver’s seat and lights up a much-needed cigarette before peeling out.

…

Arriving back at her apartment, Emily kicks off her boots and places her things on the kitchen table. 

Reaching around, she unclasps her bra, letting the heavy flesh fall from the uncomfortable confines of the underwire. Emily unbuttons her blouse as she pads down the hall, slipping it off her shoulders once she steps into her bedroom, the bra soon following.

Grabbing her ratty old academy T-shirt from the bed, she pulls it over her head, breathing in the warm scent of her laundry. She unbuckles her belt, letting the loose slacks fall to the floor and not bothering to pick them up.

In just a pair of panties and a t-shirt, Emily pads into the en-suite. She looks up at her dimly lit reflection, grazing her fingers over the lines in her skin. She sighs, pulling her hair back messily before bending over the sink to wash the day from her face.

Emily pats herself dry with the closest towel she could find before rubbing some creams into the soft skin of her face, making sure to drag it down to her neck and chest.

Exiting the bathroom, she drifts down the hall, landing in the kitchen. Grabbing a Tupperware of leftovers from the fridge, she tosses it in the microwave and pours herself a decent helping of wine.

The cushions of the couch welcome her with the utmost kindness, hugging her aching joints as if it were the touch of an angel. She flicks on the TV, settling on some ludicrous reality show. Basically, it’s just some background noise for her thoughts as she shovels the lukewarm pasta into her mouth. When you work for the BAU, you often forget about hunger until food presents itself to you.

After some time had passed, the dish emptied and her single glass of wine turned into the entire bottle, Emily sits in an uncomfortable silence. Picking at her cuticles subconsciously as thoughts float through her mind. 

The card that sits in her purse keeps calling to her, morbid curiosity itching at her like the hives of a poison ivy-induced rash she’d had as a child, all those years ago.

And after that bottle… things begin looking a bit more optimistic on the subject.

Would it really be that bad? It’s basically just a one-night stand with guaranteed results. And I’m sure the girls know what they’re doing… but what will they do? Oh god… what if they try something super kinky? My body doesn’t work like it used to, I’m not sure I could handle all that…

A sharp pain pulls Emily out of her thoughts.

Looking down at her hands, she notices a crimson stain smudging over her fingertips. Figuring she must’ve picked a little too hard at her nail bed, she gets up and walks over to the sink, washing the blood from the cracks in her skin.

Turning back to the living room, she pauses momentarily, staring at her purse on the table.

Chewing her lip, Emily moves towards the bag, digging inside to pull out the card. She holds it for a moment, just staring at it.

Trudging over to the couch, she plops against it. Picking up her phone, she unlocks it and opens the keypad, inputting the number. Swallowing down the anxious bile that threatens to spill out, Emily takes a deep breath and presses the call button with a shaky finger. Immediately dropping the phone into her lap and covering her face with clammy hands.

The line rings a few times before it finally crackles with an answer. 

“Divine Feminine Valet, how can we be at your service?” A raspy accented voice asks, seemingly that of an older woman. French.

“I- um… hello, David Rossi sent me… I’m not sure what that would mean to you but-”

“Ahh yes, a friend of Monsieur Rossi…” the voice cuts Emily off mid-sentence. “We’ve been expecting your call…Miss Prentiss, is it?” 

“Oh- um.. yes.” Emily chuckles to herself. 

God damnit Rossi, you ass.

“Well miss, it seems we already have a bit of information on file for you from Monsieur. When might you be looking to book your date?” Emily could hear the crackle of a cigarette and quick typing on a keyboard through the line.

“Oh… I’m not sure.” Emily bites her nails, thinking of all the ways she’s going to murder that man.

“I see… Well, how does tomorrow night sound? It’s a Friday after all!” The woman’s voice is light, her tone somewhat amused.

“I suppose that’ll do…” Emily sighs, resting her chin over her palm.

“Brilliant. Now, is this your cell I’m speaking with you on?” The clacking of the keyboard continues.

“Yes, it is..”

“Alright, you will receive a text message from your date tomorrow around midday, at least that is what I presume, she can be a bit unpredictable with timing... but alas.”

She? Has someone been picked already? Emily makes a tilted face, a bit confused. But then again, she isn’t familiar with how this type of thing works. Maybe this is always how it is.

“The message will tell you when and where to meet her. As well as all other details you’ll need to know.” The woman on the phone continues.

“Alright… and, what is the payment situation like? How much do I owe and how do I pay you?” Emily starts off to her purse, ready to grab her checkbook.

“No need, miss. It is taken care of.” Emily chuckles dryly again. That man is going to die.

“Okay then… is that all?” 

“Yes, all the other information will arrive tomorrow as I said. Have a good night, Miss Prentiss, and enjoy!” The line clicks and Emily is left with the dial tone ringing in her ear.

David Rossi, you are a dead man.

…

When Emily arrives at work the following day, she makes a B-line for Rossi’s office. Her boots clacking angrily against the floor as she trudges past the desks scattered around the bullpen, catching a few concerned glances from the agents. 

Without knocking, Emily shoves Rossi’s door ajar, causing him to jolt back in his seat.

“Nice of you to knock… what can I do for you?” Rossi’s hands fold together over the paperwork he’d been filling out, smirking slightly.

Emily scoffs, shooting daggers at him with her eyes as she turns to close the office door before stepping towards his desk and crossing her arms.

“I cannot believe you.” Emily tsks.

“What?” Rossi stares dumbly, mouth parted.

“Who in their right mind would give out private information regarding a government official to an escort service? Without their knowledge might I add!” Emily raises a concerned and questioning brow.

“I’m just trying to help out a close friend. We all have needs, Emily… I was just giving you the opportunity for a head start, and it appears that you took it.” Rossi leans back in the chair, bringing his folded hands to rest below his chin, aiming a pointed look at her.

“I- yes, but still-” Emily stutters and Rossi chuckles, turning back to his pile of work.

Emily is red in the face as she turns to leave the office, scoffing, but abruptly spinning back around. 

“And- thank you… by the way. You didn’t have to pay for that. I’m not sure why you’d want to…” Emily grimaces before looking back at the old man.

“Like I said, just trying to help out a friend.” He gives her a tight-lipped smile, nodding before looking down once again. Emily smiles faintly back at him, sighing before turning to leave once again.

…

The day is passing by at an agonizing pace for Emily as she sits at her desk, looking over files and a never-ending stack of forms and paperwork. The curiosity is itching at her again. Her mind racing with thoughts of who this girl might be and what she might do. 

Emily knows nothing will happen if she doesn’t want it to go further. But, what if the meeting does go well and they do end up sleeping together? Will they actually sleep together? Or will the girl just do her job and leave? It’s all too overwhelming, and Emily has begun developing a migraine.

A faint buzzing in the purse at her feet whips Emily out of her thoughts. She leans down to grasp the device, bringing it to her desk before looking at the notification.

‘Unknown number iMessage’ it reads.

Is it? Emily’s heart jumps at the realization, quickly unlocking the phone and opening her messages.

“Hey! Is this Miss Prentiss?” 

“Who is asking?” Emily responds.

“I’m from DF. We’re supposed to have a date tonight… if this is Miss Prentiss of course:)” Cute, Emily thought, smirking slightly.

“Well then, yes. This is she.”

“Great! I’m sure you were made aware I’d be texting you when you spoke with the Madam over the phone.” 

“Yes, she mentioned it.” Emily inhales deeply, feeling the stretch in her diaphragm.

“Ok, All you need to know for tonight is that we’ll be meeting at a restaurant called Divinità on Fielder St at 815. I suggest you wear something comfortable but a bit dressy, it’s a nice place.” 

“Okay, is that all?” Emily types with shaky fingers, the anticipation sinking into her nerves.

“From me, yes. Do you have any questions, Emily?”

“Not really. But, are there any… idk physical requests you have for me? Like should I have gotten a wax? Haha.” Emily groans at the embarrassing and likely very unnecessary statement. 

“Lol you’re funny, but no. How you like to present yourself is 100% your decision.” Emily lets out a sigh of relief. However, she will most likely do something about her situation downstairs when she returns home later. It’s been a while.

“And just so we’re clear…. Tonight’s happenings are fully on your terms. If you wish to continue with more intimate things after our initial date, your request will be fulfilled. But if you would like to simply call it off, that is completely alright. It’s all about your comfort:)” Emily flushes mildly at the statement. She didn’t expect an escort to be so… considerate? But then again, she hasn’t done this before.

“Okay, thank you. I will see you tonight then.” Emily shuts the phone off, placing it back in her purse, trying her hardest to return to her work and ignore all the inappropriate thoughts in the back of her mind.

…

Emily’s long day has finally come to a close. All files are neatly arranged for their next trip around the office and all necessary paperwork is filed and put away. She picks up the mildly cold coffee she made earlier in the day and tosses it back, swallowing down the remainder of it in hopes that it’ll perk her up for tonight.

Her text had been left on opened, and it’s been bothering her more than it should.

Making her way out of the office, she passes Rossi’s. Looking through the open blinds in the window to check on him. He looks up, catching her as she does so, and waves at her to come in.

“Hey stranger, you’re leaving relatively on time?” He raises a thick brow.

“Yeaaah… I’ve got plans later.” Emily smirks, resting against the doorframe. Rossi smiles proudly. 

“You’re actually going through with it?” His voice is chipper.

“Yes, David. I’m going through with it.” Emily flicks her hair back, putting her hand in the pocket of her slacks. 

“Good for you. It’ll be nice having you in a decent mood around here for once. Maybe some of us will finally catch a break.” He chuckles, and Emily scoffs.

“Goodnight.” She says monotonously, rolling her eyes and closing the door behind her with a laugh.

Emily struts down the corridor with a slight confidence, a faint smile gracing her lips. 

She checks her watch upon entering the elevator. Ten past six, plenty of time for her to get home and clean up before leaving. The restaurant’s name is familiar in Emily’s mind, though she’s never been inside. And if she’s remembering correctly, it’s only a short drive from her apartment. 

Upon arriving home and completing her usual routine of placing her things on the table and stripping herself down, Emily opts for a second shower. Just to freshen up. 

She scrubs her scalp with her favourite floral-scented shampoo, making sure to deep condition the lengths of her hair before lathering herself in soap and exfoliating. She then shaves all the necessary bits and dries off before applying her post-shave body oil and lotion.

Throwing on a robe, Emily blow-dries her hair, curling the layers so they form into a sort of feathered style. She rubs a creme over her palms before running her fingers through the silver locks, molding them into place.

Sauntering out of the bathroom, Emily opens the closet. Inspecting the items for something that would fit the description her date had given her. 

After plucking out a few dresses, and deciding none of them would be well-suited for tonight, Emily searched her drawers for her nicest pair of slacks. A black cotton pair with crisp pleats and an inseam that easily covers the majority of her feet in a taller heel. She pairs the slacks with a deep blue silk blouse and a crisp black leather belt, the silver buckle glinting in the low light of the bedroom.

Tossing her outfit choice on the mattress, she digs deep into her underwear drawer, searching for a decent set. She opts for an almost matching pair, black panties with a lace trim and a bra that is fully lace, the cups mildly see-through.

Pulling the garments on, she runs her hand through her hair again, pushing it to the side as she gives herself a once-over in the tall mirror across from her wardrobe. 

“Good enough…” she sighs.

Returning to the bathroom, Emily pulls out her makeup bag. Applying a thin layer of foundation and concealer over her skin before dusting a faint smoky-eye look on her lids, following that with a bit of liner and mascara, accentuating the already naturally long lashes.

Adding the final touches of jewelry and her favourite perfume, Emily then slips on a pair of black block heels and a long black coat that touches just below her knees. 

She looks herself over in the mirror one last time, zhuzhing up her hair and straightening out her clothes. Emily checks her watch.

Seven fifty-seven. Perfect timing.

Grabbing her bag and keys from the kitchen table, Emily makes her way out to the car, lighting a cigarette to ease her tense nerves as she drives.

She isn’t scared. Just so fucking anxious.  She is nervous about what the night will bring. Nervous but also curious as to who the woman she will be meeting is. Nervous about how she will react to inviting someone, a stranger, into her body, nonetheless her home, in the shadowed hours of the night. Will she tense up and blunder? Will she cut the night short and send the woman home? Or will she let herself go? Releasing all arms and just letting herself be ravished by the desire she hasn’t felt in so long.

A loud honk draws her out from the depths of her thoughts, the light long turned green. Emily lets the car roll forward, speeding off towards the restaurant.

The quaint establishment sits on a dim corner in the city, warmly lit by street lights and a few neon signs from neighboring buildings. The only parking available is on the street, but luckily, the meters turn off at six. 

Emily takes a deep breath, rubbing her clammy palms over her thighs and cracking her knuckles before climbing out of the car and locking it.

She prances across the street, slipping past a small crowd of people outside before pushing through the revolving entrance door. The air is smoky as she steps inside, and it smells like whisky and expensive perfume. 

It dawns on Emily that she isn’t sure what to do now. She is a few minutes early, unsure whether the woman wants Emily to grab a table for them or meet her at the bar.

Her prayers are soon answered when her phone buzzes in her hand.

“Ask for table 14:)” Emily’s heart pounds.

She turns to the host, giving him a shy smile before asking. He only nods in return, stepping away from his booth and walking down the dark corridor next to the bar and toward the back of the room. The walls are lined with small, two or three-person booths, all filled.

Except one at the far end of the row. 

A woman sat alone, a captivating young woman. No younger than 25, but mature. She sits poised, her mid-length dress sleek against her body, hugging the curves of her hips and waist. Her skin is smooth and her hair loose over her bare shoulders. 

If Emily wasn’t intimidated beforehand, she certainly is now.

As she steps closer, the young woman looks up. Glancing at Emily for the first time tonight. She smiles, teeth sharp and pearl-like. Emily can’t help but grin back, her chest flushing beneath the fabric of her shirt.

The young woman shifts, rising to her feet. She looks to be around the same height as Emily in her heels. Her leg, peaking through the slit on the side of her dress adds a teasing ambiance to the attire. And Emily definitely appreciates it.

“Miss Prentiss, I presume?” Her voice is gentle as she extends her hand for Emily to shake, to which she accepts, sliding her palm into the younger woman's.

“Yes! Hello…” Emily pauses, giving the woman a questioning look, realizing she hadn’t gotten her name.

“My name is Y/n, it’s lovely to meet you, Miss Prentiss.” She grins, squeezing Emily’s hand before sliding back into her seat.

Y/n… Emily repeats to herself internally. What a lovely name for such a beautiful girl. She thinks, slipping off her coat and bag, tossing them inside the booth before slipping in after it. 

“It’s lovely to meet you as well, Y/n.” Emily flushes under the younger woman's intense gaze, her warm eyes seemingly taking Emily in, studying her. Y/n giggles, resting her chin over her palm.

“Can I get you something to drink? Eat? Anything!” the young woman chirps, picking up the small folded menu from the edge of the table and passing it to Emily enthusiastically. 

She hums, looking over the menu before deciding on a drink and a simple appetizer, not wanting to bloat herself.

“Sure, I think I’ll just get a whisky neat and an order of fries.” Emily looks up from the menu, meeting Y/n’s awaiting gaze.

“Sounds good! I’ll be right back, hold tight!” Y/n shifts out of the seat again, slipping past the thick curtain that went to a backroom she is presumably familiar with.

Emily takes the moment alone to collect herself. Taking deep breaths and rubbing at her temples, attempting to shake the nerves from her system. She can’t battle the heat that's beginning to creep throughout her body at the thought of having a woman so attractive all to herself for a night.

…

When you return, Emily’s gaze immediately rises. Her piercing brown eyes glance noticeably over your figure as you set the glass and plate in front of her.

“Whisky and some fries for the beautiful lady…” You flirt, Emily smiles up at you softly in response. Her cheeks flush, and her lips curl into a bashful smile. You can’t help but smile back, finding the older woman’s shy nature somewhat endearing.

“Thank you.” She clears her throat, fingertips brushing against yours as she maneuvers the plate towards her. 

“You’re welcome…” you climb back into the booth, your knees knock Emily’s beneath the small table. “So…” you breathe out, resting your chin in your palm. “How was your day?” 

Emily chuckles, taking a brief sip from her glass. “My day was alright, rather boring with lots of paperwork but, that’s nothing too out of the ordinary these days.” she meets your gaze, tossing a fry into her mouth.

“Mmm, paperwork. How sexy.” you tease, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth with a smile. The older woman flushes once again, her eyes falling shyly to the heap of fries. 

“And how was your day?” Emily counters, swallowing down a few more fries before leaning back in her seat, watching you attentively. She wears a tiny smile, moving her hand up to fiddle with the delicate gold chain around her neck.

“Mine was alright too. Slept in, spoke with a few… friends, did a little online shopping, and then I got ready and came here, to see you.” Your eyes span across her face as you speak, taking in her faint mannerisms.

“Am I your only… date, for today?” Emily’s face is curious, her brows curving with the question. “Sorry, I don’t mean to snoop about your work… I’m just curious.” Her hands motion in defense, coming to rest over the table.

You raise your free hand from its place in your lap, trailing over the wood before running your fingers over Emily’s svelte digits. Her skin is soft and warm and the tendons twitch at your touch. 

“It’s okay to be curious, and yes… you are my first and only client today.” Your fingers travel up the dorsal side of her hand, gliding over the veins and circling the bone of her wrist before coming back down and lacing your fingers between hers. 

Emily faintly smiles at your apparent comfortability, glancing down at the scene developing before her. She flips her hand over, allowing you to trace over her palm. You can feel the warmth of her skin, the crevices slightly damp with sweat. Figuring she must be feeling a speck of nerves about tonight.

In the beat of silence, you take a moment to absorb Emily’s appearance. She isn’t your typical customer, that’s for sure. She is breathtakingly gorgeous, not like the wrinkly old fellows you typically see. Her eyes are warm, inviting pools of deep chestnut that you could stare into for ages. A certain comfort lurks with them, but there’s something else too, something within the depths that attracts you dangerously. And that outfit she’s sporting doesn’t help, either.

When you got the call regarding your appointment with a certain Miss Prentiss, you’d been excited. Finally a new client. Her file was rather empty, not much to read into except that she is fifty-five, into women, and has a rather high-profile and demanding line of work. The file also mentioned she is a friend of Mr. Rossi, an old familiar face amongst the girls in the company. 

“May I ask about your work, Miss Prentiss?” The tone in your voice is subtly diplomatic, drawling as you circle her open palm with your fingernail. 

“Go for it.” 

“What is it that you do? You can be vague if you’d like. Just curious.” You laugh, mocking her phrasing from earlier. Emily chuckles in response, fingertip tracing the lip of her whisky glass. 

“I work for the government. FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit, actually. It isn’t necessarily a secret… a quick Google search and you could probably find my picture, if I had my badge on me I’d show you, but it’s at home.” Emily scoffs, taking a sip of her drink. That will be an indulgence for later, you think.

“Oh, that’s awesome! I bet you're a busy woman, taking down terrorists and shit.” You beam at her, taking a sip of your cocktail as well.

“That and analyzing and investigating crime scenes, creating profiles that’ll assist in finding and collecting an unsub, amongst a few other things” There is a hint of pride in her smile that makes your stomach churn, her sharp white teeth on full display.

“That sounds insane, I don’t know how you guys do that sort of thing.” 

“I think I could say the same for you, honey… but I’ve put myself into some off-the-wall situations for work so… I digress.” Emily gestures, head tilting to the side.

You can’t help but laugh, touché.

The conversation flows easily after that, mostly easy questions with easy answers. You find that Emily is quite a pleasant date, she is so effortlessly funny and sweet, not to mention incredibly charming. It feels like you’ve known her for much longer than half an hour. If it weren’t for your compromising line of work, you might consider taking her on a real date.

Emily looks down at the plate, a singular fry left resting on the porcelain. She looks up at you with a quirked brow. You smile, leaning forward and letting your mouth fall open. Emily takes her time placing the fry in your mouth, lingering for a moment. Her finger nearly brushes against your lip as you pull away slowly.

“You know…” you speak gently, chewing the fry and swallowing before speaking again. Emily’s gaze watches you attentively. “You’re very attractive.” 

“Oh… stop.” Emily grimaces, burying her face in her hand.

“What? I’m serious… you’re fucking gorgeous, and you’ve got yourself all dolled up just for me.” your hand pulls from hers, reaching up to brush a misplaced hair from her cheek. Emily shifts narrowly from the cover of her hand, mousy eyes peering at you from between her fingers. A flimsy smile graces your lips, as well as a faint chuckle.

“Thank you… you’re a doll.” She mumbles, her hand falling away from her face, letting it land on her glass. She picks it up, locking eyes with you as she tosses the remainder of it back, downing it without a single grimace.

You watch her throat bob as she swallows, your hand moving to play with her fingers again, aimlessly.

“Tell me, Miss Prentiss-”

“Emily… call me Emily, please.” She cuts you off, her voice somewhat calloused in desperation. “I’m not sure how much longer I can put up with that title.” She chuckles.

“Okay… tell me, Emily, how do you feel about me asking some more… personal questions?”  There is a challenging glint in your eyes as you await her answer.

“I would like to think of myself as an open book tonight, so fire away.” She smiles, leaning onto her elbows, holding your hand between the both of hers.

“When was the last time you slept with someone?” Emily sputters at the abrupt question.

“Oh- um…” She clears her throat. “If I'm being honest, I don’t really remember. Maybe around seven months ago?” Emily looks up at you with a pitiful expression, your mouth falls open slightly, somewhat in disbelief that a woman like her isn’t getting all the action in the world.

“Was it good?” You raise a brow at her, and Emily flushes.

“I- eh-I guess? If I don't remember it off the top of my head, it couldn't have been that good. Most likely just a quick hookup at a bar or something.”

“Good… okay, hypothetically speaking, if we were to go home together tonight, would you rather it be your own home or a hotel?” Emily’s face twitches, her expression stirring.

“Oh boy, uhm… I think I’d personally feel more comfortable in my home, just because y’know… I've never done this before. I’m usually not keen on inviting anyone into my home to be quite honest, but in this situation, I think I’d rather be in my place.” Her brows worry for a moment.

“Of course, and like I mentioned before, how tonight goes is one hundred percent up to you, Emily.” Your hand squeezes hers, attempting to settle any nerves she might be feeling. She simply nods, seemingly awaiting your next question.

“Do you have any preference on how things go in the bedroom?” 

Emily stills, her breath catching subtly. You notice the flush starting to creep up her neck, the palms of her hands beginning to sweat again.

“I’m not entirely sure… I think it kind of depends...” her eyes wander, looking down at your intertwined hands. “Do you have a preference in the bedroom?” Emily asks, her voice shy as her eyes raise, holding yours in a deep stare.

“Hm, well… I’ll be whoeeever you want me to be. But, personally speaking…” you whisper, leaning over the table, fingers scratching over her forearm as her gaze shifts to your newly exposed cleavage. “ I like to be in charge.” Emily shudders out a breath, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

“And what about you… Miss Prentiss? Do you like to take charge or do you like to be dominated?” Your head tilts as your eyes trail over her flushed face, lips curling into a devilish smile.

Emily doesn’t say a word, she just sits, her eyes on your mouth as her chest rises and falls rapidly.

“Well, if I’m profiling you correctly,” you chuckle amusedly at your joke. “I’d say you want me to take away all the pressure.” You drawl. “Want me to boss you around so you don’t have to think. You walk around all day telling everyone else what to do, but when does Emily get to be told, hm?” Your voice is nearly a sympathetic whine, you give her a pout.

 Emily’s fingers twitch on the table, her eyes rake over your body once more before meeting yours. The color of her irises, noticeably darker under the guise of her dilated pupils.

“I- you..” Her mouth flaps open and closed, trying to find the right words. You just stare at her, patiently waiting, fingernails slipping beneath the sleeves of her top, raking against her hot skin. 

“Would you like me to take you home, Emily?” you husk, nails digging into her forearm. Her eyes dart across your face for a moment, jaw slackened. 

“Yes.” Emily whispers so quietly you almost don’t hear it, but you do. Her gaze is timid, and it brings out a certain moxie within you. A determination to do everything in your power to give this woman what she wants. What she needs.

With that, you rise from the seat, grabbing your bag and taking her hand in your own, pulling her up from the booth. She hurriedly grabs her coat and bag, not wanting to hold you any longer.

Your grip on her hand is strong as you tug her down the corridor and out the front door. When you turn around to ask if she drove, she's already pulling her keys from her purse, face flushed and chest panting. You smile, nodding for her to lead the way.

Emily fumbles with the key as she tries to start the vehicle, her hands trembling with excitement. She nearly rolls the car at the speed she rips out of her parking spot, you hear a few honks as she speeds off. You look over at her brightly, chuckling.

“Someone excited?” 

“God, yes.” Emily sighs, her knuckles whitening as she grips the steering wheel forcibly.

You reach over, leaning against the center console as your hand runs over her trouser-clad thigh. The muscle of it clenching beneath your touch as you give it a rather harsh squeeze. Emily hums, her lip catching between her teeth.

“How long until we’re at your place?” you ask, playfully running your hand up and down her thigh, trailing your fingers teasing along the crease at her hip when you reach the apex.

“Five minutes.” Emily husks, her foot pressing hard against the gas pedal, you can feel the rumble of her engine vibrating through your body as she races down the familiar streets. You can’t help the adrenaline that rushes through your veins at the recklessness. The recklessness that you’ve caused. She wants you badly enough that she is willing to risk a life. Lives even.

Emily whips into her driveway with a screech of tires against the pavement, the hard stop practically jerking you from the seat.

“Jesus…” you look over at her with wide eyes, hand still gripping at her thigh. She turns off the ignition and looks back at you with a mixed expression, lips parted and eyes hurriedly searching your face. 

“We’re here.” Emily smiles tightly, her hand patting the top of yours as she slips out of the car. You quickly follow, the beep of her car's locking system startling you as you step closer to her. 

Her hot breath clouds around her in the cool night air, you take her hand as she trudges up the pathway towards her front door.

You press against her back as she unlocks it, your face burying itself in her soft hair and breathing it in. She smells absolutely heavenly, and you cannot get enough. Emily stiffens as your nose touches the back of her neck, her keys clattering to the floor. She quickly bends to pick them up, your eyes catch the curve of her ass in the slacks, tightening perfectly as she crouches.

When she finally manages to open the door, you're practically shoveling her inside, hands gripping against her waist as you step into the foyer. Before the door even clicks shut your mouth is on her, pressing sloppily against the hot skin of her neck. 

“Oh-” Emily gasps, her hands climbing to grip at the back of your head. Her body crashes against the door, coat and bag falling to the ground.

Your hands run over her sides, landing on her hips and pulling them against your own. Emily groans, her hands moving to grasp at the sides of your face, pulling your mouth up to connect with hers.

You can taste the whisky on her as you run your tongue over her bottom lip, enclosing your mouth around it and sucking gently. Emily’s hands tighten in your tresses as the kiss deepens, the passion growing into a blazing pit of burning desire. 

Emily lets out a faint whimper as your body presses further into her, your thigh coming to rest between hers, applying slight pressure to her pelvis. Her kisses falter as she tries to grind herself against your thigh, the thickness of her pants doing little to assist. 

“Mm, you sound so pretty…” you break the kiss for a moment before delving right back in, fervently. Paying close attention to how Emily’s body reacts to every little movement, every little touch. She moans into your mouth when you grip her ass aggressively, pulling her crotch against your thigh.

“Fuck, Y/n… wanna.. mm.. bedroom.” She murmurs against your lips, trailing her palms down your chest and coming to rest over your half-exposed breasts as she leans back, giving you a once-over before tugging you in the direction of her bedroom. 

“Yes, ma’am!” Emily chuckles at your enthusiasm, bumping the bedroom door open with her hip before immediately pulling you in for a passionate, slow kiss. Her lips slide deliciously over yours, hands resting at the junction of your jaw and neck.

Your hands move over her abdomen, sliding up the sides before landing at the front of her blouse, fingers tweaking at its buttons.

“May I?” You whisper, nipping at the older woman’s bottom lip.

“Please…” Emily gasps, connecting your mouths again, eagerly.

You begin unbuttoning the blouse with expert precision. The soft fabric falling loosely around Emily’s torso. Your hands slip beneath the garment, running over the smooth, warm skin of her stomach. Fingers running over the ridges of her ribcage as she breathes heavily, you swear you can almost feel her heartbeat from down there.

Emily’s hands slip into your hair once again as you move up towards her bra, thumbs brushing against the lacey underwire. Her nails claw at your scalp, the pleasurable sharpness of it pulls a moan from your throat.

Emily’s hip bumps into the corner of her dresser as she begins moving both of you towards the mattress, she giggles, correcting herself and dropping down onto the soft cushion. She looks up at you with dark eyes, her lashes fluttering, chest heaving. 

You take note of her see-through bra as you hike your dress up, crawling over her and settling on her thighs. Emily’s hands reach out, resting her palms against the smooth skin of your legs.

“So beautiful…” you bend down and press a chaste, wet kiss just below her sternum. “Mm, I could devour you.” You press a few more kisses over her chest, Emily groans, pulling you back up to her mouth. 

Her body practically writhes beneath you, heat radiating from her mostly clothed skin. Your hands travel up towards her breasts, palms sliding over the hefty cups before giving them a generous squeeze. Emily hums, her blunt fingernails raking over your back, bare from the low cut of the dress. 

“Sit up for me.” you whisper, leaning back in her lap to make space. You pull the blouse from her shoulders, aggressively and toss it across the room. You tilt forward and kiss her again as your hands trek down towards her waistband, tugging her belt loose and unbuttoning the trousers. You can feel Emily smile into the kiss, her tongue flicking out against your top lip.

Emily’s hands slide over your bare thighs, slipping under your dress and pushing it up. You slip away from her mouth for a moment to let her pull the thin garment over your head, leaving you practically nude in front of her.

Her eyes are glossy as the trail over your body, her chest rising and falling unsteadily. Her fingertips trace over the lines of your stomach and chest, the sensitive skin twitching beneath the gentle touch.

“You’re perfect.” She mumbles feebly, her eyes darting across your skin as she cups the underside of your breasts.

“Now let’s see you, baby.” You bend towards her, lips mere inches away from her neck as you wrap around her and unclasp the lacey bra with practiced ease. The fabric falls from Emily’s chest with a shudder, her skin pebbling with the new exposure, dusky pink nipples standing proudly. 

With a groan you grab a rough handful of both breasts, squeezing the mouthwatering tissue. Emily mewls, head rolling back as you trail sloppy kisses over her neck and down to her freckled chest. 

“Fuck Emily, you’re so fucking sexy.” Your voice is muffled against her skin, your lips closing around a nipple soon after. She tastes sweet again the drag of your tongue, circling her stiffened bud before nipping gently and moving to repeat the ministration on the ladder breast.

“Hmph- Y/n, kiss me.” Emily huffs, the skin over her clavicle burning with a muted red flush. Your neck arches up at her request, connecting your lips with blazing force. Your heads lull together in the motions of passion, mixed saliva spilling onto cheeks and chins. 

Your hands move to grasp her shoulders, pushing softly so that she falls back onto the mattress. The feeling of your bare breasts pressing against her own is positively nectarean. 

You grind down into Emily’s lap, she lets a soft moan slip past her lips and into your mouth. 

Abruptly, you pull back, sitting up and staring down at her pitiful condition. Panting and flushed, hands grasping at whatever part of you she can reach.

“Where are you going?” Her face worries as she sits up on her elbows. 

“I have an idea, I’ll be right back” You cup her face, giving her a gentle kiss before swiftly climbing out of bed, tiptoeing quickly out of the room and to the foyer where you’d left your bag earlier.

Quickly re-entering the room, Emily looks up from her perch at the edge of the bed. A bright smile lingers over her face as she loosens her grip on the silken robe she’s tied around herself in your absence.

“You’re back.” She chirps excitedly, leaning back against her palms, the hem of her robe slipping open and revealing only a pair of panties. My god. 

“Well look at you…” you husk, eyes wandering daringly over her figure.

“Why did you have to get your bag?” Emily chuckles, raising a brow.

“Hm, well for one…” your hand dips inside, digging around for a moment before pulling out your speaker. “I like background music when I’m having sex… adds a nice touch.” You send Emily a wink, pressing the button and letting the speaker come to life. She only groans in response, her legs shifting together as you busy yourself with selecting a playlist.

The slow sensual tune of ‘Still Loving You’ by Scorpions begins vibrating through the small speaker, Emily turns to you with a gasp.

“I love this song…” She sheds the robe, her hands wrapping around your waist as you crawl over her on the bed, she stretches up to kiss your jaw.

“Mmm, me too.” You sigh, letting her kiss down the sides of your neck. A sharp breath rips through you as her teeth pinch the skin of your collarbone. Emily giggles, her arms sliding down to squeeze your ass, kneading the supple flesh.

Your hand comes up to rest just above her cleavage, gently teasing down the valley before shoving her into the mattress. She lands with a gasp, her head lulling to the side as you attack her throat. Sucking, kissing, biting the sensitive skin. 

“Oh-” Emily whimpers, her hands planting themselves in your hair, fingernails digging into your scalp. You shift quickly, letting your knee slide between Emily’s, spreading her open so you can easily slot yourself between them. Her calves wrap around your waist, pulling your hips against her clothed center.

“Needy, needy, needy…” You mumble against her chest, wrapping your lips around her nipple once again and sucking.

“Yes.” She pants breathlessly, watching as you descend her torso. 

The sound of her moans mixed with the growing heat and faint music is Shangri-la in your mind. Every little sound and reaction you elicit scratches deliciously at the ever-growing avowel to take this woman into a state of blissful euphoria. To give her anything and everything she wants.

Emily sits up on her elbows as you begin kissing along her panty line, tongue twirling over the curve of her stomach. Your hands slide lower, brushing over her smooth thighs, down and around her knees, then back up. 

The tips of your fingers barely breach the hem of her panties just above her hip and she is already rolling her hips towards you. 

Scooting further down the bed, you sit back on your heels as Emily’s leg moves to rest over your shoulder. You press a delicate kiss to her inner calf.

She smiles dazedly up at you through her lashes, you give her a smirk back, hands sliding over the outside of her thighs, and trailing over her hips before finally looping around her waistband and tugging gently. 

Emily lifts her hips urgently, slackjawed as she lifts her legs over your head so you can slip her panties the rest of the way off.

“So pretty,” you whisper, crawling between Emily’s open legs and settling into your stomach, taking in the sight of her heated sex. Red and swollen with want, her scent forming a heady, lust-filled fog over you.

You dip lower, neck craning as you slide your nose down the inside of her quivering thighs, trailing a path of gentle kisses and nips against the sensitive skin in your descent.

“Such a tease-” Emily gasps, her hips gyrating, desperately seeking that delicious friction.

You keep on until your nose brushes against Emily’s sex, placing a kiss over the trimmed pubic hair, and around her outer labia. You raise your thumb to your lips, dipping inside to collect a decent amount of saliva before running it over her slit. Emily’s breathy moans cloud your mind with an insatiable hunger. A desire to taste and tease and fuck till she’s begging for mercy.

You feel the sting of your salivatory glands as they swell, flooding your mouth with hot liquid. Your tongue slips past your lips, wetting them before leaning in and dragging the hot muscle over her awaiting cunt. 

Emily gasps as you flatten your tongue over her clit, circling it with an iniquitous slowness that drives her half mad. Her fingernails claw at your scalp, tugging you impossibly closer.

“Fuck, that feels so good…” Emily whines, letting herself fall back onto the pillows as your tongue dips inside. You hum against her pussy, she twitches at the vibrations, the hand in your hair clutching tighter as she grinds herself eagerly against your face.

You let your legs fall off the side of her mattress, planting your feet on the floor. You tug Emily to the edge of the bed, your mouth never leaving its sloppy perch over her sex. 

Emily shrieks as she slides over the covers, your hands wrapping around her hips and lifting, holding her still against your incessant tongue. 

You draw circles over her clit with the perfect amount of pressure, taking turns swirling it in each direction. Emily’s hips stutter as you swipe the hypersensitive spot at the apex of her slit, the majority of your musings decidedly concentrate there. One hand leaves her hip, sliding up towards her breast and wrapping around it, pinching her nipple between your knuckles.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum…” Emily moans, twitching against you as you roll her nipple between your thumb and index. Your tongue licking pointed stripes over her slit, dipping inside and repeating the process over again.

“That would be the plan…” you snide, Emily jerks at the vibration.

Easing up on her nipple, your hand slides further up her chest, over her neck, finally landing at her mouth. Your fingers slide over her parted lips, awaiting acceptance.  

Emily opens further, allowing you to curl your fingers inside. Her tongue swirls languidly over your digits, soaking them thoroughly with her hot saliva. She hmphs when you pull your hand away, but quickly quiets down once she realizes where they’re heading. 

Emily pants, her climax already rapidly approaching, and you haven’t even gotten your fingers inside yet.

Pulling your mouth away, you glide your slick fingers over her slit, spreading her apart and dipping a single finger inside.

“Oh, fuck.” Emily sucks in a breath through gritted teeth, hissing as her hips buck against your hand. 

You begin pumping into her slowly, letting her adjust as you reattach your mouth to her sensitive bud. She practically chants your name as her hips roll determinedly, using your face to push herself further toward her climax. You pull out and slip a second finger in when you think she’s ready, pumping in and out steadily, curling your fingers deep inside, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot that sends her spine arching into the air.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Emily’s breathing is erratic, her body shaking at the intensity of her impending orgasm. Her thighs quiver as they clench around your skull, trapping you there, your movements unrelenting.

Emily’s body seizes up, and you can feel her pulsating around your fingers as she cums. Her quiet moans puffing out with each strangled breath.

“I love the way you sound cumming for me, baby.” You mutter against her, voice low and raspy as you press a few soft kisses to her mound and up her abdomen, climbing over her body once again.

Your arms bracket her head as you lean down to kiss her passionately, tongue slipping into her mouth and curling against hers. You groan as Emily sucks the muscle into her mouth, lavishing the taste of your mouth mixed with the taste of her pussy.

The familiar synth-type intro of ‘Martian Cowboy’ by Toyah begins playing as she releases the muscle and pulls you back in for a chaste kiss.

“Mm, this is a good one too…you’ve got quite the taste for such a young thing.” Emily murmurs, breaking away and brushing the messy hair away from your face.

“I’m an old soul.” You roll your eyes sarcastically, Emily chuckles.

“Thank you, by the way… that was- incredible.” Her gaze wanders across your features, a blissful expression resting across hers.

“You think I’m finished?” 

“Oh?” Emily’s eyes go wide.

“I…” you press a kiss to her bottom lip, “am definitely not…” a kiss to her top lip, “a one-and-done type of girl.” You nip at her bottom lip before running your tongue over the swollen skin.

“What else are you gonna do to me?” She whispers breathlessly, her words fanning across your mouth.

“I have a few ideas…” you lean into Emily’s hand as it rests against your cheek. “But you have to give me the okay before I do anything.” Your brow raises to an arch.

“Okay. Tell me what you want to do.” Her curiosity is adorable, the faint sparkle in her dark eyes even more so.

“How do you feel about strap-ons?” A smirk curls into your lips at the statement, and Emily’s eyes flash with a surge of want. She certainly wasn’t expecting that.

“Like… you want to fuck me with one?” Her brow raises, chest fluttering with an excited inhale.

“If you’ll let me…” you trail off, leaning down to press a wet kiss to her chin, she hums in response, seemingly in thought as she runs her hands over your back.

“I think I’d like that…” She finally says after a moment.

“Yeah?” You meet her gaze with an excited smile, your voice dropping a slight octave.

“Yeah… fuck me.” Emily sighs, her brows knitting together as she leans up, pulling your mouth to hers. Lips locking with one another in a fierce open-mouthed kiss, tongues and teeth clashing. You groan into Emily’s mouth as her nails claw at the back of your neck, pulling your body tightly against her, the disparity in her touches quickly making a return. 

Your knees scoot underneath the older woman’s thighs, pushing them up so that they’d wrap around your hips. Emily lets out a sharp moan at the feeling of your pelvis brushing against her bare sex.

The recovery make-out session does not last very long. The way Emily grasps at you, writhes against you, kisses you with such hunger… it’s all so very tolling, and your body can’t help but succumb to its desires.

“Be good and hold on a second for me…” You slip away from Emily’s grasp with a quick kiss, your body immediately missing the warmth. 

Slipping back off the mattress, Emily gives you an inquisitive look. Her eyes follow your movements as you pad over to your back on the floor. Reaching into the bag, you pull out a black leather harness, a silicone cock of the same color, and a tube of lubricant. 

Emily rolls onto her side, sizing up the toy from afar as her fingers toy with her breast, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. You slip into her ensuite with a faint smile, making quick work of making sure the toy is thoroughly cleaned and prepped for her.

When you reemerge, Emily stares at you silently, watching with prompt attention as you step into the harness, fastening it snugly over your hips before securing the cock in the o-ring. You have to admit it is rather flattering on you, and the way Emily is looking at you furthers your confidence on that note.

“You look… sooo sexy.” Emily groans, flicking her silver hair to the side as she moves to crawl to the edge of the bed, meeting you halfway.

“gonna look even better with my cock inside you.” You counter, your hands grasping at the sides of her neck, tugging her in, and kissing her hard. She loses her balance slightly at the pure force of it, her hands reaching out to steady herself against your shoulders as she whimpers into your mouth.

Your hands slide down towards her breasts, palms smoothing over her hardened nipples before squeezing at the meaty flesh. Moving down her sides, your nails leave faint red streaks across the pale skin as they go. Emily shivers as they scratch over her hip bones, causing them to jolt forward.

Her ability to kiss you back with a similar consistency has begun to lessen, the feeling of your hands roaming her skin is too much to bear, and the fact that she can feel your strap-on probing at her thigh does not help.

“Lay down on your belly for me, love.” Your request is nearly a whisper against her lips, she nods eagerly, turning away from you and doing as told. 

Pulling a pillow from its place near the headboard, Emily tucks it under her arms, resting her chin over her forearm. Your eyes rail over her form, pale skin stark in contrast to the dark color of the duvet. The muscles in her back flex idly as she shifts into a comfortable position.

Your hands trail over her spine as you hum, leaning down to place delicate kisses on her shoulder blades. You move to straddle Emily’s ass, the delicious pressure of your weight draws a deep mewl from her chest. You run your palms over her back, pressing into the muscles, massaging gently.

“Mm, that feels nice.” Emily mumbles, her voice stifled against her arm.

“I bet it does, baby.” You bend down, leaving sloppy kisses over the erogenous zones of her back. Emily hums, her fist clenching the pillow to steady herself from the tickle of your lips.

You let yourself fall onto your elbow, chest pressing against Emily’s back. Your nose brushes against her messy hair, breathing it in. She smells sweet and delectably like a woman, you press a kiss to the junction of her shoulder and neck.

Your hand travels down her sides, caressing her with a teasing softness. The same hand strides further down, coming to rest atop her ass. You squeeze it gently before slipping between her parted legs.

“Please…” Emily whimpers into the pillow, you press a few more wet kisses to the back of her neck.

“Please what, Emily?” Your breath is hot against the shell of her ear. You let your tongue flick out, swiping over the burning cartilage as you rub slow circles over her clit. Emily inhales sharply, the sensitivity between her legs reaching its zenith after her previous orgasm. 

“I want it… want you. Please, Y/n.” Her voice trembles, hips rolling slightly in an attempt to gain more friction. 

“You want my cock, baby?” Your vulgar words send a tangible chill down Emily’s spine, her back arching against the mattress, pushing her ass into the air to coarse your fingers back inside.

“Yes. God, yes.” You smile at Emily’s eagerness, pressing a few gingerly kisses to her sweat-dampened neck as you shift to mount her. You nudge your knees between Emily’s quivering thighs, urging them to spread further apart and accommodate you.

You reach across the mattress for the container of lube, flicking it open and squirting a sizable amount into your palm. You wrap your hand around the shaft, spreading the gel accordingly.

“How do you want it, Emily… hm?” Your hand presses into the base of her back, forcing her stomach into the mattress whilst your other hand steadies the base of the dildo, stoking it along her slick entrance. “Gentle… or merciless?” You just barely press the head of the cock inside before swiftly pulling out. Emily lets out a breathy moan, gripping desperately at the bedsheets while her contorted, open-mouthed face presses into the material. 

“Answer me.” your torso bends over her, hand sliding from her lower back and up to the base of her neck. The hair at her nape sticks to the sweaty skin, it glistens as you brush her thick locks to the side and run your tongue over her protruding vertebrae.

“Slow first… I’ll let you know when I want more. I just need you inside me right now.” Emily gnarls through clenching teeth as her head turns to the side, eyes screwed shut and brows furrowed. 

“Good girl.” You hum against the curve of her jaw, kissing it before sliding back into your previous position. A hand holding onto the curve of her ass as you bring the head of your cock back to her pussy, swiping it over her entrance before pressing forward, sinking in halfway before pausing and allowing her muscles to relax around the girth.

“Oh-” Emily gasps, the exquisite burn of the stretch settling deep inside of her belly.

Leaning over her once again, you begin slowly rolling your hips, bottoming out. Emily groans as your weight compresses her, the feeling of your hot skin sliding against her from behind fueling the blazing fire that's growing more and more with each thrust you give. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” Your fingers tangle in the hair at the base of her neck, tugging on it just enough so her head would lift from the pillow but not enough for her to be uncomfortable.

“Feels so good… oh, fuck.” Emily’s face scrunches up as you hit that particular spot deep inside.

Wrapping your arm underneath her belly, you reach down to rub her clit as you pick up the pace. With every thrust, Emily whimpers. The soft, breathy noises are music to your ears, urging you on. Your knees press her thighs even further apart, eventually impelling her to lift onto her knees slightly, the new position allowing you to go even deeper. 

“More-” Emily pants, her moans growing louder. You immediately oblige, gripping her shoulder and pulling her body into you, your pelvis slapping against her ass. Your other hand continues working her clit, pushing through the faint atrophy burning in your muscles.

Emily smiles as you fuck into her, jaw slack and face flushed. You can see the sweat beading at her temples, and the vein in her forehead protruding as she struggles to keep her breath.

“So pretty and taking my cock so well… you like it when I fuck you like this, Emily?” You growl into her ear, hips snapping at a nearly devastating pace. 

“Yes- fuck… I love it.” Emily’s arm slips from under her pillow, darting out and landing on the back of your thigh, nails digging into the flesh.

You groan at the sharpness, your head falling against her shoulder. You can already feel your own orgasm building at the way the harness rubs ever so slightly against your clit. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on while doing your job, and she hasn’t even touched you. To be honest, she probably won’t need to. Just the sounds of her moans and the feeling of her body as you pound into her alone might be enough to finish you off.

When thrusting from this angle begins getting a little too uncomfortable on your aching abdominal muscles, you slip from between her legs, pulling out of Emily completely.

She whines at the loss, her head whipping around to look at you.

“On your back...” Your hands grip her waist, flipping her over and quickly throwing her legs over your hips. “Wanna see your pretty face while I fuck you.” You smirk, sliding a bit more lube onto the strap.

Emily hums, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches you. Her hands swipe through her messy hair before moving down to your knees, scraping her nails over them affectionately.

Lining yourself up with her pussy and pressing inside, slipping all the way to the base with ease. Emily arches off the bed with the intrusion, you lean down and press a kiss to her sweaty, flushed chest. Trailing them up to her clavicle and neck, but hovering over her lips as you start rolling into her again.

Emily’s mouth falls open in a silent moan, her breaths fanning across your lips. You hold her eyes with a deep stare, a hand coming to rest over her throat. A whimper falls from her as you press your fingers gently into her pulse points, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Look at me.” Her eyes shoot back open at the tone of your voice, deep and raspy. Moving your free hand to her lower belly, you press down slightly, feeling for the toy’s movements inside of her.

Emily lets put a guttural moan at the pressure, her ankles locking around your back, allowing less room for you to move back, only forward.

“Hmph- fuck, Y/n. I’m gonna cum, don’t stop- please, don’t stop.” Emily’s arms reach up for you, wrapping around your shoulders and holding you tight against her as you fuck into her ruthlessly. Her hand tangles into your hair as you suck at her neck, while the other claws at your shoulder blade.

Bringing your hand back up from her belly, you lick your fingertips, sliding them back down to her clit and rubbing sloppy circles over the bud as you lift your head, watching her face as she’s taken over with pleasure from your ministrations. 

“Come on, baby… so good, so pretty like this.. gonna come for me?” You whisper against her chapped lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her chin as she nods frantically. Unable to form the proper words. All that leaves Emily’s mouth are tiny little whimpers and moans as you fuck into her. 

You keep up the pace until Emily’s body starts to tremble, and her pussy begins clenching around the toy, stifling your movement. Your hand holds its movements over her swollen clit as she falls over the edge for the second time tonight, her body twitching aggressively underneath you.

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck-” Emily chants, her hand moving to grasp at your hand on her clit. Holding it still and pressing it down hard against the bud.

“Holy shit…” You breathe against her lips, eyes wide and body thrumming with adrenaline as you feel her body reacting to the pressure. You feel almost lightheaded as you lean in to kiss her, licking over her mouth before locking your lips together in a passionate embrace.

“You’re telling me…Jesus Christ-” Emily’s body falls limp, her belly twitching intermittently with aftershocks. You chuckle, kissing her bottom lip gently.

Emily sighs into the kiss, wrapping her arms around you once again. You don’t even care that the skin between you is drenched with sweat, your mind is simply clouded with visions of her. Of Emily.

‘You’re the Only Woman’ by Ambrosia plays softly in the background as you let your weight fall against her chest, catching your breath.

“Thank you… again.” Emily giggles, her hand petting the top of your head, her fingers running through the locks.

“It was my pleasure. Thank you.” You rest your head on your hand that’s propped up beside Emily’s head. Your eyes trail over her dazed face, admiring your handiwork. Her eye makeup- smudged, lipstick- gone, spread across her chin and cheeks and guaranteed that it’s also all over your face as well.

“What?” Her brows furrow in question.

“Nothing… you’re just beautiful.” You smile cheesily and Emily blushes, snorting at the compliment in disbelief.

“It’s true.” You swat at her shoulder, she gives you a sarcastic eye roll.

“How does a shower sound?” Emily asks, brushing a fallen lash from your cheek.

“As long as you’re in there with you… brilliant.” You smile, teasingly. Now it was Emily’s turn to swat at you.

“If you’re gonna fuck me in the shower, too, you’ve gotta give me a minute.” Her eyes sparkle as she smiles at you, and it has to be the most endearing thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“Okay…” You roll off of her, slipping the strap out of her gently. “You can recover while you give me one.” You shoot her a wink, climbing off the bed and walking towards the bathroom.

“Done.” Emily flies off the mattress at lightning speed, dragging you into the ensuite in a fit of giggles and kisses.

...

a/n: HII!! i hope you guys enjoyed reading... this shit took me forever to finish, but i am very happy with the finished product so... yeah

feel free to leave a comment or some constrcutive criticism!

Also lmk if you see any typos… i was so tired proofreading this.

[rinky-dinky-dink]

Star Sanses But There's More Of Them

Figured I would make a sort of master post for my Star Sanses interpretation! This is just an idea I'm playing around with, I don't plan on making a proper storyline for them at the moment. Just me exploring characters!

Long post ahead-

General:

All five members have star badges, per Blue's insistence ("So they look more like a team!" Ink liked the idea of them all sharing a design element, and Sugarplum thought the idea was fun, so Dream and Red were outvoted). The badges are equippable items to give each member a bit of a boost in combat (exact stats have yet to be decided).

Combat:

The five of them end up a pretty efficient team in fights, especially against Nightmare's Gang (plus Error sometimes). Even when Dream is occupied fully with Nightmare, and Ink's attention is on Error - Blue, Red, and Sugarplum manage to hold their own even as incodes. Combat roles (per the rules of DnD, for no real reason) are as follows:

Dream is the leader, he maintains party focus and morale, and generally decides the strategy going into a fight. His ability to sense the feelings of others allows him to monitor his teammates even during combat, so he can call for a retreat if necessary. (Switches to/also serves controller role, when needed.)

Ink is the group's striker, he's fast and he hits hard with precision, but it can be difficult for him to focus on more than one enemy at a time. Stays up close to the opponents, falls back behind the others on occasion to refill his paints or regain his bearings. (When fully necessary, he can use his brush to take broader strokes and serve as controller with color coded AoE attacks. Can serve as leader in extremely rare situations, but that's not nearly as fun, so he's content to let Dream do it.)

Blue is the defender, he's the tankiest of the group despite his shorter stature. He has the highest base defense of the group's three incodes, since he's essentially a Papyrus. Not much aggression in combat, preferring to help cover the others as they attack. (Can switch to striker role, if necessary.)

Red is the controller of the group, his bones and blasters let him cover a wide area from a safer distance. His stats still aren't great, so he hangs back from up close combat, and relies on Blue to help maintain the distance, especially when he gets tired and needs a bit of time to recover.

Sugarplum is also a controller, technically speaking. He focuses less on direct combat and more on effects, usually ACTing to lower an opponent's AT, DF, or speed. He also hangs back from direct fighting most of the time, and heals the others (mostly Blue) when their HP gets too low.

General Team Dynamics:

Dream: The leader of the group, as agreed by everyone else. He's friendly and easy to get along with, so he serves as a good "face" for the team. (Ink also thinks Dream having his own "gang" is a fun parallel to Nightmare!) Keeps the group on track when on missions, when the others' antics (affectionate) threaten to veer them off course. He's nervous about the responsibility this sort of role comes with, and whether or not his aura is skewing his teammates' evaluation of him as a leader, but he's determined to do his best.

Ink: Local menace. Bastard. Usually the cause/intigator of the team's distractions. Here to have a good time, occasionally at the expense of others. Sends cursed memes to the team groupchat at 3am. Luckily the others don't mind his sense of humor (Red thinks he's funny as hell sometimes), and Blue's general enthusiasm usually just serves as fuel to his fire. Will randomly give his teammates a thoughtful gift (a trinket he found somewhere that reminded him of them), and then steal food off their plate before they can say "thank you." Overall he's having a good time, and the others have just accepted this weird eldritch paint skeleton on their team.

Blue: Underswap Sans! As peppy as ever, always there to cheer on his friends and tell them he believes in them. Tends to get caught up in his own excitement sometimes, but means well! His ability to befriend even the more hostile residents of the multiverse makes him the glue of the team, keeping everyone together and on the same page even when Dream and Ink argue, or Red is a bit too abraisive. Since being exposed to the multiverse and joining the team, he's changed his focus from being a royal guard back home, to being a hero alongside his friends. There are people to be helped, and he's found the recognition he's always wanted but couldn't quite achieve back home. He's still technically a sentry back in Snowdin, and still has to return relatively frequently to keep the whole multiverse thing under wraps, but his brother helps cover for his absence. (Papyrus isn't super fond of the whole concept, especially not Ink, but he supports his brother 100%.)

Red: Underfell Sans! The designated grump of the group, he still hasn't really shaken off the defensive habits he learned from back home. The "tough guy" of the Stars, he's generally not a bad guy once you get past that wall he keeps up. Is steadily improving, unlearning a lifetime of defensiveness and distrust is difficult. (His jacket is heavy, and he would drop it over a teammate's shoulders in lieu of a weighted blanket if they needed it though. Just don't go spreading those kinds of rumors about him.) Has not told his brother about his multiverse-hopping escapades with the other Stars, partially out of worry that his universe will start bleeding out into more peaceful ones. He's dodging that particular conversation with everything he has.

Sugarplum: Underlust Sans! Doesn't really live in his own universe anymore, spends 99% of his time in the Omega Timeline. Doesn't like to talk about his universe, dodges any questions in relation to it (luckily in multiversal etiquette it's considered rude to ask questions about someone's universe, unless invited to do so). Didn't start out as much of a fighter, and still doesn't quite match up to the other Stars, but he can hold his own in a pinch. All the fighting and training and running around burns energy, which helps keep his soul from acting up. Wine aunt energy, always up to date on drama in the OT. Generally pretty chill, with an easygoing attitude that lets him help Blue smooth things over when conflicts arise in the team. Drinking buddies with Red, can relate to having a messed up universe he'd rather not discuss.

~~~~~~~~~

Dream -> @/jokublog Ink -> @/comyet Blue -> @/popcornpr1nce Red -> @/underfell Sugarplum -> @/nsfwshamecave

[forthelostones]

𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 ➺ 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 #11

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. 1,000 of you, this means more than you all realize. my journey with writing has been so complex and you all make me believe in myself - thanks for believing in me. much love!

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. rather be alone by leon thomas ft. halle ♫

For a moment, it became apparent that my hands were made to hold her by the way our exchange of breath aligned perfectly. I closed my eyes if only for a second to macerate in this moment. I raise my hands to show her it wasn’t intentional. “Sorry, it’s cramped in here now I didn’t realize, should we go?” 

“Only if you would like to.” She said. 

She was toying with me now, seeing if I would take the bait, which I did because I loved it when women entrusted me with the sole responsibility. Before I could reply my phone rang and I had never felt a greater sense of relief. 

An unknown number with the local area code came across the screen. “Hello?” 

“Abby?” I melt at the sound of Nora’s voice, but not in a good way, in a I’m-guilty-way. 

I crook my finger in her direction to leave the club so I can hear Nora clearly. 

“Nora, hi.” I said. 

“Is this a bad time it sounds like you’re out?” 

“No, it’s fine, uh probably can’t talk long. I got tied up in work and wanted to text you, um, yeah.” 

I stood in the parking lot gasping for air letting the clarity cleanse me from the stuffy venue. I lean onto the passenger side door and see my new addition trailing behind. 

“I was thinking about you that’s all.” 

“Good, we still have to plan out our date night.” 

She walks up to me with her hands extended behind her back, strutting like a panther in the darkness covered by a singular lamp, and stops in front of me — not even a foot away. 

“Anything you want me to wear?” 

“Can I think on it?” 

“You absolutely can, chat later.”

I tuck my phone back into my pocket to see her even closer with my back flush to the truck I just stand there unmoved. 

“I’m sorry for touching you in there. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“I know you didn’t mean it.” She closes in. 

My gaze lies down upon her, my arms to my sides, and temptation in my face I was shuttering with inability. I reach for the handle and open it, forcing myself out her way.

Nora’s voice on the other line made a wave of disgust shutter through my body — one that I hadn’t felt in a long time. 

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

My fist gently tapped against the large entryway as the moon settled into the sky and my watch read for 2:45 a.m. After a moment, a glint of warm light illuminates within the curtains of what I assume was the living room. I stood desperately in my checkered boxers and A&C sweatshirt

“Who is it?” She groans. 

“Your stupid neighbor,” I croak full of instant regret. 

“Abigail, is everything okay?” 

She flicked on a porch lamp that shinned on me like a police spotlight, preparing me for the inevitable interrogation. Her arms cover her chest as she stood cozy in a two piece silk set with a matching robe and a patterned scarf tied around her fro. 

“Um, in a poor romantic attempt to apologize, the best thing I could do was knock on your door at the most inconvenient hour because I couldn’t sleep. I can’t wait ’til the morning to tell you how sorry I am for earlier.” 

“Come in,”  

Nora’s home was painted a rosy blush color, which I didn’t expect. I imagined something more exuberant like a creamsicle orange or dusty yellow but this fit her perfectly. Ornate gold frames with family photos were collaged on the walls over a tan sectional with a range of pink throw pillows. The whole space was the epitome of comfort. She directed me to matching loveseat near the window that overlooks the front corner of the lawn. I sink into the seat and she rubbed her eyes awake to adjust to me in her space. 

“Abby, we all have responsibilities and I respect that.” She uncrosses her arms. 

“I feel like I blew you off and that is not a true depiction of me. I—I am more than my work, I don’t just blow off the people I care about because of my career.”

“I don’t doubt that Abigail,” Nora smiles. 

Before I knew it Nora was sat in my lap, smoothing my hairs down as my hands rested on her thighs. She reached under my chin to lift it to her coal eyes slightly.  

“May I kiss you?” 

I could only nod as I calculated how long it had been since my lips were pressed against another woman’s. Her lips were buttery, slipping across mine, awakening out of my mania. I glide my fingers across the seam of her shorts over her thigh letting the fabric slip under them. My clit tingled with a savory anticipation as Nora’s tongue entered my mouth and she feathered the hair at the nape of my neck. As I returned the favor and removes herself from my thighs leaving me with my lip parted and suddenly cold.

I sat breathless at the swift interaction in a daze of the events that just occurred. She stands sweetly with a partially lit smile. I had never had a woman be so forward with me and take the initiative in the way Nora has.

“I know you’re busy, we’re grown, and I don’t take things personally.” 

I stood up adjusted my boxers subtly or so I hoped. “Well, thanks for that reassurance, I feel stupid now so I am going to leave.” 

We both walk back to the door and I linger in the frame. 

“Would it make you feel better if I made the plans for our date?” 

I stammer. “I mean, no, I got that part. Your job is to show up as beautiful as you are now.” 

She opens the door wider and perches on the tips of her toes to kiss me one last time. This was the moment I settled into the most, dragging my hand gently across her jawline, craving even more. The worst part of it thoughwas that I wasn’t craving Nora at all but someone else entirely. 

✧ ━━━━

You were reeling over last night and the close proximity to Ms. Anderson was all you could wish for. The way she gripped you was unfamiliar because the way Ellie put her hands on you wasn’t in the way Ms. Anderson did… it was with intention. Not holding you just because she could but holding you to connect and make you feel safe. You felt heavy in your bed remembering the scent of her, replaying each move she made, her sunken eyes, it was all so intoxicating. For the past forty minutes you had her contact open ready to change the events of tonight possessing a sliver of courage. 

There was high emotional stakes, you knew that, especially after Ellie took the initiative to end things. It wasn’t grand or particularly a shock, it was what it always was, just Ellie. 

“I love you, you know that.” She says through gritted teeth. 

“Love you too. I thought you would be happy to see me,” 

Your stomach dropped at the sobering image of your girlfriend. She pressed her lips together like a boss that was going to fire you. A lump formed in your throat at her stoic nature that you rarely had the pleasure of seeing anymore. 

“Ellie,” You whisper. “What is it?” 

“We need to end this now.” 

“Our relationship?”

“Before I make the move I think it’s best we split now, even if I will still be around town.” 

Sure, you knew this was coming but you thought it would be you, it was simpler now to detach from this wasted partnership and move on. Living in the moment even if it was with your new boss would you had a risky crush on. 

“Fine.” You shrug. 

“That’s it — fine?” 

You scrub your hands over you face and exhale, sick of pretending that you cared anymore, sick of this relationship and trying to understand if it was healthy or not. 

“Ellie what do you want me to do? Get on my knees and beg you to love me differently?” 

“I mean you been wanting this haven’t you? I knew it deep down, I did.” 

“If I say yes would that appease you?” You snapped. 

She shrugged with a disgusting smug look on her face with her hands gripping her hips. 

“What I think is you want me to follow you because I take care of you, make your life better, give you a sense of direction.” 

“Oh there it is, the fucking queen has arrived. Yes, I don’t have a pointless four-year degree, been employed since I was nineteen by the way, and I’m not rich — whatever. The same old regurgitated shit we been over before! You got me one gig, congratulations.” 

Her voice trembled, this was the Ellie you grew to know, unmanaged anger and buried trauma. Her skin bursting with anxious hives and eyes full of helplessness. 

“I hope this attitude is fixed when I see you at work next week.” 

You push the door up into the frame as hard as you can let it to finally allow a warm tear to slip out of the corner of your eye. It had hurt, but what’s going to hurt these next few weeks is your ex and boss you clearly are attracted to in a power struggle. 

The familiar cherry Anderson & Co. truck rattled into your driveway, this morning you were the client, it was your demolition. Since Abigail had never done this before the unusual circumstance left you both with an added layer of awkwardness after last night. Your parents had gone to run errands and Abby was left to continue the demo on the bathroom. Knowing her she brought her own cup of coffee but you pulled out the French press just in case. 

The click of the front door welcomed in a pristine and smiling Abby holding a toolbox in her right hand. You traced the outline of her veins through the spaces of her tattoos marveling at how much her muscle bulged from the weight of the box. “‘Mornin.” 

You smile dryly to which Abby ignores and hurries into your bedroom. It looked better this time, less boxes, your bed was made, clothes were in their respected place. You met her in your bathroom where she already had a blueprint pulled out. You two haven’t chatted about the demo since the consultation really so now was the time to, although you didn’t want to because you didn’t care, you wanted her attention. 

“Made you coffee.” You grin. 

She looks at you through the mirror where you stood in the door frame. 

“Thank you sweetheart, is it okay if I had a cup right now before…” 

“Of course, you want cream or sugar?” 

It wasn’t an inherently a sexually charged question but the way it left your lips it could’ve been. 

“Cream, thank you.” 

Abby explained to you the way this was going to go. “So listen, this maybe inconvenient to you for a while, this bathroom won’t have any water or power for the time being. It will be completely out of order and that’s that. First thing I am going to start by doing is tearing up some of this tiling.” 

“Can I watch?” You ask childishly. 

“Sure but I could give you a lesson instead?” She grins. 

She hands you the coffee mug with 1/4 left in it and you move it to your desk. You both get layered up in protective gear ready to begin gutting the bathroom. With a blade Ms. Anderson begins to trace the caulk lines inside of the shower carefully. The shower was large enough for you to both be standing inside but small enough for you to brush up against one another. You tried to huddle away but her eyes gestured for you to come closer and you had no choice. Shoulder to shoulder she explained the small details and periodically turning to make sure you understood. Like actually understood.

“So, what we’re doing here is preparing to remove the tiling without ruining the wall too much,” 

Her blunt fingers trace along the seams with the knife following shortly behind. You’re both in the shower, sure fully clothed but you thought of that night in her house, imagining you two. 

“Gonna remove this grout. I’ll need a tile drill next.”

You both step outside of the tub as she drills into the wall and it was amazing to see her level of concentration and precision. In all honesty, you never understood how Ellie could be passionate about her work and be good at it. Abby moved with a veteran pace, the tiles dropping at her feet, and body covered in flakey residue. 

Two hours pass and you are suddenly sitting on top of the toilet seat talking with Abby after an overly extended break. 

“When you book Ellie for whatever job you have next, please don’t let it be here.” 

She leaned off the wall. “Okay, why?” 

“She broke up with me.” 

“Damn,” She groans. “I’m sorry.” 

You inhale as if shards of glass we’re entering your lungs. It felt painful despite the fact that you wanted it to be over, it still hurt. 

“We weren’t good for each other.” 

“I can take her off and place up an ad to find someone else it won’t be hard. I don’t want you to be overly stressed at work if she’s around.” Abby’s voice got a bit deeper than usual as she grew stern and authoritative — protective.  

“Ms. Anderson, I promise you it’s fine, the battle is my own. Plus you still owe me.” 

Despite your efforts to lighten the mood she wasn’t swayed. She moved into the doorway and took off her gloves and set them on the toolbox. She rubbed her palms together and crossed her arms, in her favorite stance. 

“I’m serious.” 

You freeze. 

“Abby,” 

“If she disrespects you or says anything outlandish I won’t hesitate to step in. Now what you do outside of me is your business but in this my job is to protect you first. Do you understand me?” 

You straighten up and place your hands in your lap and nod. Fire blazed through you seeing this typically sweet woman transform before you eyes. She composed herself with a deep breath.

"She's professional if anything."

"Don't defend her, I've seen how she speaks to you. Take it from me, you'll be glad in a few years you clipped yourself away from her."

You advert your gaze to the floor. If Ms. Anderson could see it how long were you pretending?

"I'm sorry it's not my business, I've just noticed your change in energy as of late, I felt it immediately."

You choke back a tender sob, refusing to cry in front of your boss over a shitty ex. Abby made it incredibly difficult to not throw yourself into her arms right now. Maybe that's the main piece you and Ellie were missing this whole time, you never felt each other.

Her feet shuffle closer to you and you raise your head with glass eyes. "Oh," she sighs apologetically and yet full of pity.

You poor young thing, you have no clue, you imagine her thinking. You pull yourself up directly in front of her, the lack of space reminiscent of last night. Abby's hand reaches for the door, her left foot stepping back and you follow stepping forward. She softens her eyes and traces the outline of your mouth intently. You step forward this time filling in the gap just as the creaking of the garage erupts.

Neither of you react as you tie into each other an invisible string pulling you closer. The distance of the thread growing shorter. “I’m going to go check on them.” You say, not exactly wanting to leave.

“Perfect. I’ll come down to say hello.”

You both taking a whisper and speaking almost robotically. Shoving away every human urge.

Your left hand brushes by Abby’s waist as you move past her in the doorway. The woman turned quicker than you thought because there she was with her body pressed into the back of yours. Light enough to want more and close enough to feel the rise and fall of her chest.

[nanenna]

Have some crack.

"Well, what has everyone's capes in a twist?" Zatanna asked as she walked into the cafeteria in Mount Justice. She found Green Arrow, Black Canary, Martian Manhunter, and Superman off to the side watching the goings on with various expressions of amusement. Batman was closer to the center of the room, just inside a circular area that had been cleared of tables and chairs, the current Robin held firmly in his grasp. Just on the other side of the clearing stood Wonder Woman, arms tensed to keep the Lasso of Truth tight in her grip, some sort of creature languishing at her feet.

"I take it this is the problem?" Zatanna crouched down to get a better look at the small creature. Judging from the head of snow white hair, the creature was face down, making it hard to judge what kind of creature it was. The body was black, with a white stripe near the middle, then more black that twisted, curled, and tapered off in a tail. Honestly between what looked like pointy ears sticking out just past the hair and the long, sinuous tail she could almost believe the creature was a lamia or naga.

"Just had to tie this little guy up with the lasso?" Zatanna smiled as she looked up at Diana, it was certainly a sight to behold.

"This creature has proven itself formidable," Diana responded with a wry grin.

"Do not harm him, he is my new pet," Robin demanded haughtily. Batman's shoulders drooped ever so slightly.

Zatanna smiled at the boy, "Well I'm just going to do a quick identification spell to make sure you know how to properly care for your new pet." She stood up and took a step back, "Uoy era erutaerc fo rennam tahw?"

GHOST

Well that was… odd. And shouldn't be possible. That wasn't one of the answers the spell even could give, it should've come back with something more specific, there were several categories of ghost after all. "Uoy era tsohg fo dnik tahw?"

GHOST

"Fascinating," Zatanna whispered to herself.

Batman gave one of his grunts, with Robin looking very close to demanding answers himself if Zatanna didn't take that grunt as an invitation to explain.

"I think we'll need to call in a specialist." Because what else could she do? For a spell to come back that insistent yet generic meant something about this "ghost" defied her own abilities. She quickly sent off a message, one that couldn't be ignored.

"What kind of specialist?" Superman asked, having moved to where a table and some chairs had hastily been pushed aside before Zatanna got there.

"Oh just our local necromancer, he should be able to get a better read than I can on our little friend here."

"Necromancer?!" Green Arrow asked in shock.

Zatanna sighed,"Necromancers aren't inherently evil just because they work with the dead."

"My pet is not dead," Robin said with a growl while crossing his arms. It was completely adorable.

"I'm afraid our little friend likely is, I'm sorry to say. But that doesn't mean he's not still alive."

Robin crossed his arms harder and pouted, though she's sure he would insist it was a glare.

"A pet that's already died once and come back is a pet that can't ever die again," Zatanna said with a wink.

"Alright, I'm here," a robotic voice announced flatly.

Zatanna turned and smiled, "Hood!"

"Todd," Robin stated angrily.

"Code names," Batman scolded tiredly.

"We are waiting for a so called specialist," Robin continued, "we don't have time for whatever nonsense you've come here for."

"Yeah, I know." Red Hood flicked Zatanna's message back at her, which she simply caught and dissolved. "You're lucky I was already geared up."

"I hope your regular gear includes spell components, our little friend is turning out to be quite the enigma."

Red Hood looked down at the creature. "Huh." He crouched down to get a closer look while Zatanna moved to sit on one of the tables.

"What the fuck?" Red Hood stood up, moved to the side, crouched down again, and tilted his head, he also shot off two more spells.

He looked up at Diana, "The fuck you'd find this thing?"

"Language," Superman scolded while trying to hold back a laugh.

"You're not my real dad," Hood shot back. He stood and rolled his shoulders. "Seriously though, where'd you find it?"

"Robin found it in one of the vents," Batman offered quickly.

"The demon brat would," Hood said through some fuzzing static. "But what the fuck even is this thing?"

"You're the expert," Zatanna reminded him.

"Since when are you a necromancer?" Batman demanded.

"Before the duffle bag, after these," Hood stated confidently as he summoned an All Blade.

Zatanna couldn't help casting a little spell of her own, it wasn't often one got to see them in use.

Batman looked constipated, Robin looked confused. "Do not you need to be in the presence of true evil to use those?"

Hood shrugged, "That's what Ollie's for."

Green Arrow started to protest, but Black Canary elbowed him. Superman hid a laugh behind a cough, Batman did not try to hide the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Let me rephrase that," Hood stated. "There are not one, but two whole billionaires here, can't get more evil than that."

Batman's shoulders drooped, Green Arrow did protest this time.

"You're right, two-and-a-half."

"You say that as if you do not have a trust fund," Robin sneered.

"Legally dead," Hood replied. "Now stop distracting me, demon brat."

"I'm not a distraction," Robin grumbled.

Red Hood used the sword that was still in his hand to poke the creature.

"Do not stab Harold!" Robin demanded. Batman grabbed the kid before he could lunge at Hood, a blade suddenly in his hand.

"It's a diagnostic stabbing," Hood defended.

Robin looked too confused to answer to that. So did a few of their onlookers. Zatanna just nodded along, a diagnostic stabbing. To be fair, if she had swords that were attached to her soul she could probably do the same thing. She was rather glad she didn't, that just didn't sound pleasant.

Not that Hood was actually stabbing the creature, mostly he was laying the flat of the blade against… Harold. But she knew that according to Hood that was enough and would tell him a lot.

"What even the fuck?" Hood murmured.

"We were hoping you could tell us," Zatanna teased.

"Everything is coming back nonsense, like this thing's writing in his own answers on a multiple choice test."

Zatanna nodded, that really is how her own attempts had felt. "Is he even a ghost?"

"Yeah, pretty sure he's a ghost. Still can't figure out what kind, he could be anything. Poltergeist, shade, yuki onna…"

"Yuki onna?" That wasn't a common type of ghost, Hood wouldn't have mentioned one without reason.

"He's ice type."

"What?"

"Ask him yourself," Hood motioned to the creature with his All Blade.

"Alright, I will." Zatanna hopped to her feet and approached the creature again. "Epyt ruoy s'tahw?"

PRETTY AND BOSSY

Zatanna couldn't help laughing at that.

"What'd you get?" Hood asked, clearly confused even through the voice modulator.

"Pretty and bossy," Zatanna answered with another chuckle.

Hood's voice modulator burst with static. "Wow, okay, not the question I told you to ask, but sure."

"He's just a little guy, it's not his fault she confused him," Green Arrow defended.

"You hear that, demon brat? Your new pet likes girls that are pretty and bossy."

"Don't be so closed minded, he might like pretty boys who are bossy," Black Canary said with a laugh.

"Okay, okay," Zatanna waved everyone off as she got herself back under control. "One more try. Uoy era tsohg fo epyt tahw?"

Zatanna blinked, then blinked again. "Was that…?"

"I think it was the Pokémon symbol for ice type," Hood confirmed.

"……. How?!" That made not a lick of sense! That's not how that spell even worked.

"Writing in his own answers on a multiple choice test," Hood repeated.

Zatanna pressed her lips together. "You know that means whatever he is, this guy's powerful. That's not just something you can do casually."

"What's more worrying is there's no way for this little guy to be that powerful. Human, less than two years dead."

"There's no way that little thing is human," Green Arrow scoffed.

"Wow, rude," Hood said. "Just because he died he stopped being human, I see how it is. Racist."

"Ghosts don't even start to mess with their self image for at least a decade, and that's only if they have the mental flexibility to get past their death. There's no way someone so freshly dead would look like that, not without some sort of curse involved."

"Could be, it might explain the weird results, or at least some of them." Hood dissipated his sword, then reached up and pulled his helmet off. He held it out to Diana, "Hold this for me, please?"

"Certainly," Diana said pleasantly as she finally relaxed her posture and accepted the helmet.

Harold didn't react to the lasso loosening.

Hood crouched down again and poked Harold. The little ghost huffed out a deep sigh, like he had the weight of the world on his tiny shoulders. Hood poked him again, "C'mon, stop playing dead, we all already know how dead you really are."

"All the way?" Zatanna asked with a snicker.

"Exactly." The poking and prodding continued, "I don't even know why the lasso worked, no matter how magical it is you have to be physical to get caught in it. Why is a ghost so physical? Just density shift."

Harold seemed to have had enough, he turned and bit Hood's finger.

"There we go." Hood stood up, bringing Harold up with him. Now loose, the lasso slipped off, leaving Diana to wind it back up. Harold bit a few more times, moving up Hood's gloved hand as he did so. His strangely squishy face was scrunched up in concentration.

"That is such an uncanny valley face," Zatanna commented. It really was, but dealing with any spirit was often like staring right at AI art, somehow they never quite got it right and had trouble with any kind of fine details, unless they obsessed over a particular detail and got it hyperrealistic.

"Eh, kinda cute I gess. I can see why Robin wants him for a pet."

Robin shrugged off Batman's hold and stepped forward, "And I'm ready to take Harold home. You may visit to detail his proper care."

Before Hood could hand the ghost over, he chirped and warbled before winding up Hood's arm, around his neck, then up to Hood's head, where he snuffled around in Hood's hair.

Hood blindly grabbed for the little ghost, "C'mere, Harold, your boy wants you."

"Curse or no, he is still a person and should be treated as such," Zatanna said as she leaned back to watch.

"When the curse is lifted and he is capable of making decisions he will be allowed to make his own decisions," Batman promised, though he looked quite grim and reluctant about the whole thing.

Hood finally got his hand on Harold and pulled the little ghost down. Harold flopped over so he was being held like a baby and snuggled up to Hood's chest, giving off happy little trills and warbles.

"Alright, little pest, go be someone else's annoyance." Hood held his arm out towards Robin.

Harold let out a pitiful whine and latched onto Hood's hand with his stubby little paws, looking up at the necromancer with big, wobbling eyes. Literally wobbling, as in his big, round eyes were literally changing shape like a cartoon character. It was like watching a train wreck.

Robin held his hands up, "Harold, are you ready to come home?"

Harold turned and hissed at Robin, his face morphing and stretching into something with far too many teeth and big, dark eyebrows. He swatted at Robin with his stubby little paw, missing by a mile, then turned back towards Hood and half slithered half floated up his arm to curl around the necromancer's neck like a particularly stubborn scarf.

Hood sighed, "I was afraid of that. Sorry kiddo, the dead prefer other dead for their playmates."

Robin scowled, "TT Harold, you could've had a good home with me, but as you have made your choice I will respect that."

Batman looked relieved.

"Yeah, no. I'm not calling him Harold."

"I like the name, it suits him," Zatanna said.

Hood absently scratched Harold's head, causing the little ghost to purr happily. "I'm gonna call him Vanilla."

Zatanna held in a snort, using all her willpower not to start humming a certain song.

"It's probably for the best I take him anyway, he should probably be under observation since he's just so weird."

"Keep me updated?" Zatanna asked.

"Yeah, sure. I'll drop updates in the server." Hood waved her off as he picked up his helmet and put it back on. "C'mon, Vanilla, you're gonna love the zeta tube." He wasn't, Hood was going to have a heck of a time getting the little ghost go through with him.

Zatanna turned to Diana, "Since I'm here, how about lunch?"

"Lunch sounds lovely," Diana answered.

- - -

Later Zatanna was checking the JLD discord server to see what the others were up to. Hood, of course, was keeping everyone updated.

Red Hood: Why is a ghost falling asleep?

He had attached a short video that was indeed Vanilla nodding off. The little ghost's head kept drooping before he caught himself and blearily blinked back awake, for some reason all this while holding a honey mustard squeeze bottle. The video ended when his jaw unhinged like a snake for a toothy yawn.

Red Hood: Sleepy little guy.

He'd attached a selfie of himself lounging on a couch with Vanilla snuggled up to his mustard bottle asleep on Hood's chest.

Red Hood: aewrsdtgyu

The next picture was Hood in pretty much the same position, only now there was a very alive looking teenaged boy with pale skin and messy black hair still clutching the mustard bottle curled up on Hood's chest.

Red Hood: He has a pulse?!?! WW: Congratulations on your first adoption. If he has blue eyes you're even keeping on theme. Red Hood: Fuck you, I'm not adopting him!!!! WW: How disappointing, I expected you to take responsibility for your own consequences. Zatanna: You already gave him a name. Red Hood: So did the demon brat. I'm gonna go throw him at bruce before he wakes up. Zatanna: Good luck! WW: Tell us more of your new son when he wakes. Jason Blood: What's this about adopting? Jason Blood: Oh, what a little cutie. You can be undead father and son. Red Hood: Fuck all of you.

Zatanna smiled to herself, Hood was definitely keeping the boy. She needed to get him a gift of some kind, something to welcome the newest member of the bat-clan. And also an excuse to get close enough to look the boy over again, she was sure he'd give the most interesting results.

[withbroombefore]

I saw a poll earlier about participation in regular in-person activities, with numbers that make me wonder if a lot of people don't know what the options are or how to find them. Here are some that I have always found welcoming to new people; for me, these are ways to leave my apartment and get some human interaction without having to make much conversation (there is a reasonable amount of that if you want it, but since it's understood that you are there to do an activity, the thing you are doing is the point rather than pure socializing). A search for "[activity] [location]" should tell you what's available in your area.

Contra dancing: This goes at the top and gets explanation because it's my favorite. I grew up doing this and love it very very much; I always look for local dances when I move somewhere new. Most dances are very beginner-friendly (though there are some exceptions), and zero dance experience is required to participate. Many will include a lesson for beginners in the half-hour before the main event starts, and there are always instructions throughout the evening. You truly do not need to know anything going in. The convention is to switch partners throughout the night, and it's completely okay to attend alone and ask people you don't know to dance. Try Contra Dancing has a search tool by zip code. Typically $8-15.

Community theatre tech: Acting is an option if that's your thing, but in my experience, tech is easier if you're looking for an activity because there's not usually competition--you often can just volunteer without needing to worry about auditions or casting. Roles like run crew (where you move set between scenes and such) don't require any prior knowledge, and plenty of the other tasks can be learned with a little training. If you turn up reliably, the word will spread--good techies are invaluable. Free to participate.

Community band or chorus: Prior experience in playing an instrument is necessary for the band; for singing, it depends on the type of chorus. Some are auditioned, others are just thrilled by any participation. May require dues.

Shapenote singing: A more niche one and another of my personal favorites (I ignore the religious lyrics and treat them as poetry). This can take some time to pick up, but many places have a small monthly sing that is very welcoming to new people. fasola.org has lots of information about the tradition and where to sing. Free, optional donations accepted.

Library events: Find your local public library's website and look for a calendar or events page to see if anything appeals. Typically free.

Crafting groups: Yarn stores and other craft supply places often have regular open gatherings (typically free) and/or classes (may cost money for teaching and supplies).

Games: If you have a local game store, check their website for events. Or search "[location] [chess club]" or whatever is your thing. Usually free.

Dance: Depends on what is available in your area. A studio where I am has a monthly swing dance, with beginner lessons before, for $10.

Sports: I don't really do these but they presumably exist and can be found like the other things.

The important thing is to just go do the thing. It will probably feel awkward the first time--that's normal! These are all spaces where the point is for people to show up and participate. They want you to be there, and they want you to come back! Otherwise they can't keep existing. Several of these (contra dancing, shapenote, a lot of crafting groups) are especially excited about new people and younger participants and will be thrilled to teach you how to do the thing. And the only way to make it feel comfortable is to plow through the first awkwardness and go back until you decide if you actually enjoy it or not. When you find a thing you like, keep going, and after a little while you end up with a community of people to see regularly who share your interests. This is what humans are supposed to do.

[wannaeatramyeon]

The Crew Heads with Reader: The Keeper

G/N. This is dumb. (Jake Kim, Eli Jang, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo). Masterlists

Same storyline: Bro Code | Dinner | Shopping | Television | Gacha | Board Games | Suits

If you turn left at the traffic lights, then continue on the path for another mile, you'll arrive at a block of apartments.

The facade is a little dated, the area unremarkable though safe. To the right is a sleepy high street, and the other side are more residential buildings.

It's peculiar in how unpeculiar it is. There's nothing that stands out-

Hold on.

That's not entirely true.

Dig further below the surface, past the stuttering lights of the convenience stores, the ajummas nattering on the sidewalk, the mom and pop diners favoured by the locals and you'll find that, in fact, the area is deeply peculiar and odd.

Maybe everything was built where ley lines connect.

It's a magnet for gangsters, congregating in groups and hanging around menacingly. Frequented often by freakishly strong people, whose monstrous strength strikes fear into the heart of many.

Yet here, they just loom quietly in the shadows, causing no harm and presence intimidating enough that there is very little crime committed under their watchful eye.

That's because what is known about this particular place to a specific and violent subset of people, is that it's neutral territory.

Peaceful territory.

No blood can be spilled. No gang fights. No violence.

Unless it's committed by yourself, of course. It's the number one unwritten rule amongst all the other unwritten rules.

(As agreed to and acknowledged by all parties. Thank you for your cooperation.)

When one of the men stretches your patience too thin and you want to slap them upside the head, then surely it's your god given right.

Not that you would but no-one could or would blame you.

.

.

Maybe oddest of all, however, is the collection of strays you have acquired.

One by one, they have come across your path and fallen for your questionable, awkward charm. Found you during their time of need, whether that is looking for someone who listens and empathizes, tells them to cut the crap, or can simply make them smile.

Managed to begrudgingly strike up a makeshift sort of truce with the other men, if only for your sake.

And you, well.

You're known as The Keeper.

.

.

For most who hear about The Keeper, it conjures up terrifying images of a beast of a man. Muscle-bound and able to snap necks without blinking an eye.

The Keeper is actually none of these things. Although you don't mind the rumours that swirl about you.

What The Keeper is, is very very bored and yawning, you scratch your left asscheek as you wait for your strays to select their lunch.

.

.

Look-

You don't get paid from your job for another two weeks and you really can't expect Sammy to foot the bill for everything.

He goes above and beyond to give you the best of the best, but if it was up to him, would give the other three straggler-ons nothing and tell them to fuck off.

It's only because of you that he reluctantly ignores the way Johan sneaks dog treats into shopping trips, Eli adding cute little dresses, and Jake an extra something or other for a member of Big Deal.

(Not that Samuel minds too much about the latter though he would rather shit in his hands and clap than admit it outloud.)

He pays for it all with little complaint - actually no, that's not right. He complains a lot and holds it over their heads (but not yours) at every opportunity.

But he pays.

So today's lunch is your treat.

Even if your meagre bank balance only stretches to four ramens and maybe a sad drink to share between all of you. It's the thought that counts, ok.

.

.

"Yenna has a cream for that," Eli says, clocking your itchy butt, "you want to borrow it?"

You shake your head no and tell him thanks anyway.

"Your hair looks good," you add with a smile, ruffling his blonde wolfcut mullet with the hand that was on your ass a second ago.

Eli doesn't notice, or decides not to comment, instead runs his own fingers through his hair self consciously and clutches his ramen (Carbonara Buldak - a rare spicy treat when he doesn't have to share with Yenna) tighter.

"You think so? I thought it might be too light."

"You could pull anything off."

You force the smile to remain on your face, not that you're bitterly jealous or anything.

"Thanks!"

.

.

"Buldak?" A familiar voice sneers and you both sigh and turn your head to the duo still standing in front of the display.

"What's wrong with Buldak?" Jake responds, frowning.

"Nothing." Samuel reaches pointedly for the 2x Spicy packet.

Jake's eyes narrow. 'Nothing, if you're a pussy' was silently insinuated by Sammy and heard loud and clear by Jake.

He replaces his Spicy Chicken Buldak and matches his choice to Samuel's.

"This might be too mild," Samuel adds nonchalantly, grabbing the 3x Spicy instead and wanting to one-up that bastard even with something as juvenile as this.

"You win. Hope your asshole burns, asshole." Jake gives him a playful smirk, returning the Buldak for a Shin Ramyun.

Samuel raises his eyebrows in surprise at Jake's choice. His face turns proud and victorious. "I'll be fine."

As Jake walks away, Samuel glances nervously at his own noodles.

.

.

"That jjajangmen smells good," you comment besides Johan, both cooking your ramen on the machine in the store.

On instinct, he moves closer, defensively, protecting his own food, shielding it from hungry eyes-

Then clarity hits. It's you.

"Wanna share?" He offers, willing all the survival instincts he has honed from the last couple years to be quiet.

"Nah, I'm good." You bump goodnaturedly into Johan as thanks and rest your head on his shoulder, waiting for the food to finish.

He shrugs and averts his gaze. "You're the one that paid," he mutters by way of explanation.

You see through his deflection and notice his ears turn crimson.

.

.

The five of you are a sight to behold.

Slurping noisily on noodles; Samuel bright red, beads of sweat down his neck as he tries to choke down his ramen, Jake and Eli chuckling together at that poor pathetic moron, Johan growing restless as his was finished a good while ago but nevertheless finding Samuel a source of entertainment too.

All sitting side by side, taking up the window seats that provide a perfect people-watching view.

The roads are almost bustling at this hour and the buzz of the streets spill into the store.

"That's The Keeper," A small group of men whisper to each other, bowing in respect to you as they pass through the entrance.

You smile back pleasantly, hiding your confusion. They must just be friendly.

.

.

Mid-mouthful, you spy a blonde walking on the other side of the road.

He's hard to miss, with a spring in his step and whistling. His suit is equal parts expensive, impeccably tailored, and tasteless.

Your eyes connect.

Goo Kim gives you a cheery wave, a loud, joyous 'HEY!' and calls out your name.

You wave back and his grin grows when he spots your companions.

His arm moves even more erratically and he cackles, the loud hyena shriek heard despite the distance and through the glass, when the Crew Heads grumble and flip Goo off.

[winniewritesstories]

thinking about....soldier boy (ben) with a doe-coded reader ⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ all sfw | can be read as gn!reader ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ

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⟡ you're a supe with the power to communicate with animals

⟡ you live in the woods near a small rural town, in the new england area. most people leave you alone - your supe powers aren't the most useful for vought. the locals think you're some kind of witch or woodland nymph and give you space, too

⟡ your little cottage is always full of animals, both domestic and wild. deer, foxes, sparrows on your lawn, cats that come and go, rescued dogs of all sizes lounging on your porch.

⟡ butcher & the boys need your help with finding the deep, hoping you can communicate with sea creatures (you've never tried before) to find him and help then track down homelander

⟡ ben is dragged along against his will, grumbling the whole drive there. when they pull up to your cottage, wisteria growing around the doorway, rose bushes with bees buzzing around, he rolls his eyes.

⟡ the front door opens, and there you stand, wearing a little blue or pink or yellow dress, a small kitten hanging out in the pocket of your apron, no shoes on

⟡ you don't ask who they are or why they're there; you just give them a beautiful big smile and greet them, half a dozen dogs following you out the house

⟡ ben has never seen anything so perfect and pure in all his life

⟡ you invite them inside, make tea and serve it with biscuits you just made. there's a robin living in your lounge and what looks like a domesticated mountain lion laying on the bottom step, eying your guests warily

⟡ you listen intently to butcher, wide eyes blinking earnestly, lips slightly parted, and ben just watches you the entire time, taking you in...

⟡ your cheeks, freckled from spending so much time in the sun; the way animals of all shapes and sizes flock to you for safety and comfort; how you're always padding around your home or garden or nearby forest barefoot, curling your toes into the grass. the way you tend your garden, picking flowers to weave into your hair, greeting the bumble bees, making polite conversation with passing crows. the soft tunes you hum or whistle, or the way you sing softly to yourself and your animals as you go about your day

⟡ ben is a goner. practically drooling at how pretty and soft and innocent you are.

⟡ he's obsessed with you after that first meeting, basically following you around like another dog. if you weren't so gentle and affectionate with everyone and everything, you might find it creepy or unnerving or irritating

⟡ but you don't mind him at all, finding his company nice and his attentiveness endearing (he's not the first wild animal you've tamed, after all)

⟡ he basically never uses your name, resorting to any one of a hundred nicknames - princess, dolly, fawn, sweet girl, kitten, pretty girl, my love, little dove

⟡ as you get more comfortable with each other, he'd lay his head in your lap by the fire or under the warm afternoon sun, and you'd scratch his head, playing gently with his hair

⟡ the first time he hears you giggle he actually melts, his heart thawing at the sound, wishing he could bottle it and replay it forever and ever.

⟡ when it gets cold and you wrap yourself in a soft sweater which is too big for you, sleeves covering your hands and he wants to wrap you up and whisk you somewhere warm (although he secretly loves the cold now, getting to hold you close - 'here, dolly, i'll warm you up', he says, pulling you back to sit in his lap, big, strong arms wrapped around you)

⟡ you don't get angry or upset often, but when you do ben thinks it's the most adorable thing ever, the way you huff and pout and stomp around lightly, whining at ben 'don't be mean' and he melts and kisses your nose and says 'i'm sorry, princess', because he can't be teasing or angry with you when you look so sweet

⟡ he finds himself talking to the animals the way he'd seen you do, even if he couldn't understand them. one morning he's sat on the porch, watching you pick vegetables, and he starts talking to the dogs by his feet about the weather and wonders if he's finally cracked

⟡ he basically becomes another feral dog that you tame and becomes an added guard dog to your already large pack. growls at people in the street if they bump your shoulder, stares down frenchie and butcher when they visit, and if he had a tail it'd definitely wag every time he looked at you

⟡ learns how to make tea just the way you like it

⟡ loves, loves, loves to make you blush, watch you get shy and flustered over the silliest little things. drives him mad the way you bite your lip, looking down at your feet or fiddling with your hands, cheeks flushed pink

⟡ never considered himself an animal guy before, but now he befriends all kinds of creatures, thinks twice about buying leather or wool, and even brings home a stray cat he found in a dumpster once

⟡ your favourite love language is physical touch, and you absolutely adore showering ben with affection; butterfly kisses, nose kisses, pressing your forehead against his. sometimes you'll be lay under a willow tree or in bed, and you get all smiley and giggly and plant kisses all over ben's face, shoulders, chest, anywhere you can reach. as you sit back, face flush, hair tousled, slightly breathless with a giddy smile, ben's heart twists almost painfully in his chest, realising how much he loves you and how much that scares him

⟡ he secretly loves the fact he can be gentle and laid back with you, dare i say soft. after a lifetime of fighting, he likes to unwind with you and your animals, and you make him feel much more human. you don't want to use or abuse him, don't need him to be soldier boy, or a hero, don't need him to be anything other than just ben

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notes -

thank you for reading!! first little h/c set like this, please let me know if you like it!! ᡣ𐭩

[not proofread]

[stevespookington]

We are heading into severe weather season in the US soon (and by soon I mean tomorrow) (disclaimer, this is all general advice. pay attention to the official weather sources in your area for alerts and important information. I am not an expert, weather info is just a hobby for me.)

National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA)/National Weather Service (NWS) has (for now anyways) the Storm Prediction Center (SPC) which is a great source of information to stay weather aware.

The SPC puts out Convective Outlooks. These show where thunderstorms and severe weather have the potential to pop up. (With temperatures warming up, the movement of warm air leads to convection in the atmosphere which results in thunderstorms and sometimes severe weather. There is a good blog post going into more detail here)

Specifically, the outlooks are:

Day 1 Outlook (today and early tomorrow morning)

Day 2 Outlook (the next 24 hours following early tomorrow morning)

Day 3 Outlook (the next 24 hours)

Day 4-8 Outlook (the next days, but these are never too certain due to the way the models work)

These outlooks are timestamped with Zulu time aka Coordinated Universal Time (UTC). You can see how that compares to your local timezone here.

Today (3/13/25), the weather outlook is okay, just a slight risk of thunderstorms across the US. However, Friday (3/14/25) and Saturday (3/15/25) both have a widespread risk of severe weather including strong winds and tornadoes.

If you are in any of these colored regions, stay weather aware! Now, this doesn't mean you have to panic, but keep an eye on the weather reports in your area!

I tend to check the SPC in the morning so I know when I have to really be paying attention to the weather for the day/coming days.

Below is more info on the color coding which you can read more about here. (In addition here is a powerpoint from the NWS with more information "12 Things You Need to Know: Severe Weather Outlooks")

Tips on staying weather aware, it's important to have access to several weather sources.

Check the SPC for updates!

Find your closest NWS Forecast Office via zip code on weather.gov

Keep an eye on the local news and local weather reports

Consider getting a weather radio! (info here from NWS) This is good for if you lose power/internet as you can check the automated radio stations near you

Check the radar (I use the radarscope app) but you can check online with websites like radar.weather.gov or wunderground.com

Ryan Hall Y'all is a youtube channel that livestreams during most severe weather outbreaks

More weather info:

Severe Weather 101

How NOAA Satellites Help Us Stay Ahead of Severe Weather Season

How to Use and Interpret Doppler Weather Radar

TropicalTidbits - Info on hurricanes and other tropical weather

NWS - Emergency Supplies Kit Info

Weather Prediction Center - similar to SPC but more generalized

What to do During a Tornado (via NWS):

Stay Weather-Ready: Continue to listen to local news or a NOAA Weather Radio to stay updated about tornado watches and warnings.

At Your House: If you are in a tornado warning, go to your basement, safe room, or an interior room away from windows. Don't forget pets if time allows.

At Your Workplace or School: Follow your tornado drill and proceed to your tornado shelter location quickly and calmly. Stay away from windows and do not go to large open rooms such as cafeterias, gymnasiums, or auditoriums.

Outside: Seek shelter inside a sturdy building immediately if a tornado is approaching. Sheds and storage facilities are not safe. Neither is a mobile home or tent.  If you have time, get to a safe building.

In a vehicle: Being in a vehicle during a tornado is not safe. The best course of action is to drive to the closest shelter. If you are unable to make it to a safe shelter, either get down in your car and cover your head, or abandon your car and seek shelter in a low lying area such as a ditch or ravine.

NOAA and NWS are under threat from everything going on right now. (Hundreds of weather forecasters fired in latest wave of DOGE cuts.) They provide vital services and do very important research about our weather and climate. While 5calls.org does not currently have a template centered on NOAA/NWS, they have similar ones that you could reference, modify, and use. (I have modified one below that you might consider using.) (5calls.org also has other very important scripts that you might use for other issues.) Please consider calling your representatives and telling them how important weather information is to everybody and that they should be protecting it, not defunding it. Not only for severe weather, but for climate change research and more.

Hi, my name is [NAME] and I’m a constituent from [CITY, ZIP]. I'm calling to demand that [REP/SEN NAME] oppose any legislation, or efforts by the executive branch to dismantle or abolish the National Weather Service or the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. The recent reduction in staff is unacceptable, and will put Americans' lives and property at risk to severe weather. Reduced warning capabilities will put lives at risk and could potentially make response and recovery more hazardous and more expensive. Thank you for your time and consideration. IF LEAVING VOICEMAIL: Please leave your full street address to ensure your call is tallied.

While this is geared towards the US, a lot of this information can be applied via resources specific to your country. And finally, to quote Ryan Hall, Don't be Scared, Be Prepared.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 4

MDNI // 18+ content

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | extra: dinner date with Minho

full master list for additional installments

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: ?k (part 4)

Chapter Summary: Officer Jeongin takes you from your cell to do depraved things to you in the station shower.

Important Trigger Warnings ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Contains CNC, fear play, knife play, blood kink, piss kink (I’ve put the following emojis at the beginning and end of the part containing piss so you can skip if you prefer ‼️⚠️💦 ), oral sex, p in v sex, anal penetration with and object, use of color code safeword system, degradation, no aftercare.

😳😳😳😳

“Get up!” A stern voice penetrates your sleep and you yelp when you feel yourself being dragged by your hair.

“Ahh!” You cry out and open your eyes. You’re met with a sinister smirk and dark eyes. “Wakey wakey.” He hums as your eyes widen in terror. Officer Jeongin. Why does this young man look like a demon? Or a psychopath?

You swallow hard. Your mouth is so dry.

Then without a word, he drags you naked from your cell. “Where are we going? What are you going to do to me?” You squeal desperately, flapping your limbs around.

“You need to piss, and you need to wash that dried cum off you.” He replies matter of fact.

You’re dragged past the main station area where the desks are, and then past the interrogation room where you had been earlier. Your mind flicks back to Detective Minho and Officer Seungmin and your pussy clenches.

Officer Jeongin barges through a door at the end of the hall and pushes you inside. You fall to the floor, your naked body slamming hard against the cold tiles. You immediately curl into a ball. What the actual fuck is happening? What have you got yourself into?

You sneak a look up at the officer as he steps inside the room and pushes the door closed behind him. A thrill courses through you. A mix of terror and arousal. You know this is going to be sexual, forceful, degrading.

Officer Jeongin nods his head to towards the toilet behind you, and you scramble over to it and try to relax enough to relieve yourself, using the moment to look around the bathroom. A urinal on the opposite wall to where you’re seated, a porcelain sink to the left of it either a small mirror attached to the wall above it. To your left is a shower stall with a pale blue shower curtain.

Your eyes drift back to the officer who hasn’t taken his eyes off you. You cough uncomfortably and proceed to finish your business. Once you’re finished you wash your trembling hands at the sink, soaping them and rinsing them before looking up to meet your reflection in the dirty mirror. You’re really here. You’re really living out your ultimate fantasies. You’re really going to get fucked in a filthy bathroom by a deranged, hot, pretend police officer.

At that exact moment Officer Jeongin’s face appears in the reflection behind you. Your eyes widen in fear as he presses a knife against your neck and his body presses against yours. Your stomach is pushed against the cold porcelain of the sink uncomfortably. He has an erection. You can feel it against your back.

“Now listen to me very carefully.” He whispers against your ear, his menacing eyes locking on yours in in the mirror.

“You are going to do exactly as I say. You’re not going to fight me. You’re not going to scream. You’re going to let me do… everything. I. want.” He licks your ear causing goosebumps to form over your entire body.

“Got it?” He smiles brightly with a twinkle in his eye.

You swallow and nod.

“Good. Now get in the fucking shower. You smell too much like a cum slut.”

With the knife still pressed to your neck, Officer Jeongin turns you and pushes you into the shower stall, forcing you to your knees facing him while he flicks on the shower taps. You whimper as the cold water hits you, but you’re thankful that it warms up quickly. You watch as his hands reach for his belt buckle, undoing it and retrieving his cock. Your immediate thought is that he’s going to make you suck it.

“You’re such a filthy little thing… all that dried cum on you.” He clicks his tongue. “So I’m going to treat you like you deserve. Like a pathetic little whore.”

‼️⚠️💦 A stream of piss hits your chest, surprising you and making you flinch.

“Is this what you like, hmm? Like to be treated like filth?” He laughs manically as he continues to urinate on you.

You sob loudly as his urine hits your body and runs down between your breasts. It’s so utterly filthy. The entire scenario makes you feel pathetic. You shouldn’t want to feel this way. Why does it turn you on so much when it’s making you cry? Is it because it’s helping you forget - no, let go - of all the anxieties and emotions you keep inside? Is it because you have always wanted to be degraded in this way? Is it that you just don’t want to think, or do, anymore? ‼️⚠️💦

You’re not given much chance for introspection because Officer Jeongin is pulling you up to your feet as he steps inside the shower fully clothed, save for his cock out.

“Turn around. Against the wall.” He growls, manhandling you with ease. Your cheek is pressed hard into the tiles and the knife is back at your throat. You’re trapped with no way to escape. You whimper, an actual, real feeling of dread seeps through your body. What if he actually hurts you?

Using the arm he is holding the knife with, he holds your body in place with his forearm across your shoulder. His other hand slides the head of his cock up and down through your ass crack.

You close your eyes preparing for when he penetrates you, but voices at the door cause him to pause.

“Not a sound little mouse.” He whispers as the bathroom door opens and two men enter. They can’t see you due to the shower curtain, and as far as they know, it’s just an officer having a shower.

Officer Jeongin releases his cock and unclips something from his belt. A baton, you assume, when you feel cold metal slide through your folds. You eyes ping open and you try to stay as quiet as possible as he pushes the tip of the baton into your ass.

You’re shaking. You want to cry out, push him away, maybe use your safe word. But at the same you want to whimper and push your ass back onto it for more and have him make you take it.

“So I’m assuming Jeongin’s taken her somewhere for some fun.” It sounds like Changbin’s voice.

“Then it’s the Aussies, then we all get one more chance with her.” The second voice adds. It sounds like Officer Han and you want to call out to him. But you also… don’t want to. You’re confused as fuck right now.

Jeongin pushes the object a little further into your ass, and despite your fear and racing heart, your eyes roll back into your head. The stretch, fuck it feels good.

You almost let out a moan when he pulls the baton out slightly and then thrusts it back in harshly. You bite your lip drawing blood, and Jeongin leans in to lick it off. “Shh. Don’t fucking make a sound.” He whispers when the two officers start to laugh uncontrollably about something someone did at lunch.

You nod vigorously, making sure Jeongin knows you aren’t going to make a peep, then he starts to actually fuck you with the baton. You’re fully aware that the blade is so close to your skin that if you make a sudden move, or sound, you risk being cut. Officer Jeongin doesn’t seem the type to be fazed by a little violence or blood. The thought scares you, and you try to run your mind over which boxes you ticked on your application. Did you sign up for knifeplay? Blood kink? Fuck! You don’t even know!

The voices quieten as they eventually exit the bathroom. Leaving you alone with Jeongin.

“Time to tear you to shreds.” He sneers.

“Orange!” You cry out of nowhere, surprising yourself as well as Jeongin.

He lets go of you immediately, pulling the baton from you and turning you around. His entire demeanour shifts to concern and gentleness.

“Tell me what you need.” He says kindly.

You blink rapidly. You don’t even know why you even said it. He wasn’t hurting you. It felt good. But…

“I-I guess I just w-wanted to make sure you’d stop…if I need you to.” You stammer.

That’s it. You just need reassurance that if things went too far he’d honour your wishes. “You play your role so well…that…you seem like an actual psycho.”

He chuckles softly. “It’s okay, y/n. I don’t want to do anything against your will. And, look.” He flips the knife, grabbing it around the blade and squeezing a fist around it. “It’s not even real.” He grins.

How the fuck did you not notice? Upon closer inspection it’s obvious, but his acting made it feel so real.

You sigh, taking in the man in front of you. Drenched with his police uniform sticking to his body. “I want you to keep going.” You declare. “But for fucks sake take these soggy clothes off.”

He tilts his head and the deranged look is back. But this time you trust him entirely and you allow yourself to give in to both the fear and pleasure wholeheartedly.

Jeongin flips the knife again, holding the handle and pointing the tip of the faux blade to the little hollow at the base of your base of your neck. He licks his lips as he drags the knife down your chest, between your breasts, and down your stomach. Your breath hitches as the blade reaches your pubic bone.

“You know,” he whispers as he runs the blade edge between your folds. Your chest heaves, and your hands find purchase on the tiled wall behind you. “I have a real knife, if you want to play with that too?” He locks eyes on you.

“Yes.” You whimper.

“Yes, what?” He leans in and kisses your neck. Fuck! You’re so wet you can feel your slick between your thighs even with the shower still running.

“I want you to fuck me while you hold a real knife to me.” You cannot believe the words that just came out of your mouth. One minute you were frightened and now you’re asking for a real, actual knife - that actually cuts skin!

He looks at you long and hard. Then slips the fake knife in his belt. His fingers grasp another item, and as he pulls it out your eyes bulge. It looks shiny, so very sharp. So real.

“Undress me then get on your knees.” He demands and shuts the water off. You unbutton his shirt, pulling it from him quickly, as he slips off his belt and shoes. Then you remove his trousers as you drop to your knees.

He grips a fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other holds the knife close to your neck.

“Choke on it.” He instructs.

You open your mouth allowing him to thrust into your mouth. He’s rough with his motions, forcing you take all of him repeatedly. You’re starting to shiver from the cold now the water has been shut off, and your making the most obscene choking sounds as your throat is used in such a brutal way. He seems to get more aggressive as tears fall down your cheeks. You feel like a filthy slut. You feel dirty and used.

“You look like you were made to take cocks down your throat.” He pants. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you when you sucked the other officer’s dicks earlier. Ngh…such…a…slut.” He punctuates each word with a hard deep thrust. “Fuck! You’re gonna make me cum.” He hisses.

“Up. Face the wall. Hurry.” He manoeuvres you back into the position you were in earlier, with your tits pressed against the cold tiles and the side of your face smashed against the wall.

He kicks your legs apart and sinks himself into your sloppy, desperate cunt, and fucks you deep and hard without any moment to adjust. But you’re so wet that there’s no resistance.

He’s so long that he hits your cervix hard every single time making you cry out on each impact.

“This is what you want, isn’t it? A cock deep in your cunt. So many cocks have been in here today. I’ve never seen anything like it. Insatiable slut.”

He’s right. So many cocks have been inside you today. And you want more. You want to be fucked over and over by these men.

Jeongin starts to fuck you harder and the knife digs into your neck, cutting the skin slightly. You cry out, but it’s not in pain. It’s in pleasure and when he nicks you again you scream and come hard around the police officer’s cock.

Jeongin laughs manically while he continues to pound into you. “You’re so fucking sick. Coming like that because I made you bleed.” He whispers low against your ear.

He pulls out and you turn and slide your back down the wall, collapsing from the intensity of your release. You feel blood trickle down your skin.

Officer Jeongin hovers over you, and with his thumb swipes the blood from your body and takes it into his mouth. He’s just as sick as you.

He pumps his cock until thick ropes of cum splatter across your face and he growls in satisfaction at his work.

He leans down with one last instruction. “Stay here and count to fifty before you even think about moving.”

Then he’s gone, leaving you in an exhausted heap on the shower floor. You’re covered in cum, blood, tears and a satisfied fuck out feeling buzzing through your body.

…….

A/n: this honestly didn’t turn out as good as I wanted it to, but I really wanted to give you something. I am so sorry if it was a bit rushed, or not as dark as you were expecting. This type of smut is challenging for me to write.

>>> next up… the Aussies 🥰 (spoiler double pen one hole 🤭)

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[centrally-unplanned]

Recently I have heard a bunch of people discussing Sarah Paine, a professor at the US Naval War College. Dwarkesh Patel uploaded a bunch of her lectures to his YouTube, Noah Smith (jokingly) referred to her as the One Good Historian, etc. She appeals to, in particular, the "neo hawk" camp around rising competition with China.

She had a video on Japan in WW2 which, given that that is my area of expertise, I thought I would watch...and it is weird, man. She has the cultural bent to her analysis - she approaches analyzing Japan's strategic decision-making from in part their cultural obsessions with bushido, the imperial system, etc. This is an "old guard" approach that modern historiography tends to downplay - for example, interviews with captured POWs (who didn't surrender) during the war generally showed not that they were motivated by a deep code of honor (though ofc it was there), but by propaganda from their own government that if captured the US would torture and execute them. Bansai charging makes a bit more sense now, right? But Paine isn't dogmatic about it, and it isn't like the cultural factors played no role in Japan's thinking, so this is a matter of taste.

But much more off-putting are these sort of "communist menace" vibes that run through it, where she portrays Japan as inordinately concerned with the communist forces in China as some sort of big threat. That just is not true, they did not consider them very relevant, and it leads to a bunch of weird statements. Like okay, ~27 minutes in, we have this quote:

[China in the 1930's] is a mess. It is coalescing into a bilateral competition between the Nationalists under Chiang Kai Shek and the Communists under Mao Zedong, fighting with increasing dosages of Soviet aid. And the Japanese are appalled with all of this, and so it is time to surprise everybody again in 1937 - when they invade all the way down the Chinese coast.

Essentially pitching a narrative of growing communist/nationalist civil war provoking Japan into action to intervene. Which, I am sorry, what? This is a map of China in 1937

With Nationalist China/The KMT ruling most of the country in some form and the Communist forces ruling a rump state fortress in the mountains. By 1934 the civil war was pretty much on a standstill, and in 1936 (involving a kidnapping of Chiang, diplomacy baby!) they even signed a ceasefire to unite against the Japanese. And while she can weasel-word her way out of this, most people's read of that phrasing of "Soviet aid" would think it was going to the Communist forces to help them, right? But that isn't true! The Soviets in the 1930's were giving far more aid to the Nationalists, backing them as the obvious winners and hoping to court them as an ally against Japan.

There was no rising communist threat in China in the 1930's - instead there was a growing unity in China under the KMT to oppose the Japanese that was causing Japanese military planners to fret. Which would justify Japan's "surprise intervention"...if they did that intentionally, but they didn't! The war was started essentially by mistake, and Japan (and China) both tried to negotiate a ceasefire multiple times before it spiraled out of control due to aggressive local commanders.

(This also is the case for Japan's "other" surprise she mentions, the invasion of Manchuria - it was a strategic ploy to expand the empire, yes, but by the local 'Kwangtung Army' in open defiance of the government's orders! Not exactly 'high strategy'.)

In isolation any one of these - and other examples in the video - could just be awkward phrasings or interpretive differences, but in aggregate I think this is a level of revisionism that I can't stomach as being in good faith. It is just one video but these are pretty basic mistakes to be making. I don't think this person is a good historian, which definitely makes me question her expertise on the present-day CCP.