#iris writes things

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

For the character ask game thing: Rei. Obviously. 1, 2, 12, 15, 16. I tried to limit myself and not just say "all of them" but if you want to answer more of them, go for it. <3

For this ask meme

Oh dear, you've given me a lot to think about (thank you, I like thinking)

✨🔪Rei🗡️✨

1. Canon I outright reject

Alright, so. I'm actually good with most of canon. Not because I'm such a big fan of it, but because of my tendency to overthink things and go "okay, but how can this still work."

We'll get to what I think doesn't work in a moment, but first I have a bone to pick with Aoyama's word of god, aka his answers in the interviews. My gripe is mostly that I think he doesn't think his answers through (in the cases where he doesn't just give a non-answer).

Some I can work with. I've come around to "Scotch was a sniper in the BO" because it opens up the possibility of sniper due Scotch & Rye, even though I think Hiro deserved his own speciality (and also Aoyama is never going to show us Scotch sniping, so that's just a waste of potential).

Some I am undecided on. Aoyama refuses to give us answers on Rei's family, even though it would be quite relevant for his character (someone with a family that supports him would not be so cripplingly lonely). I hope Aoyama won't botch that, but I will hold my judgement until then.

Some confuse me. What do you mean, Rei wanted to keep Sherry (who he recognised as Elena's daughters) alive, but give her to the BO?? Wouldn't it be a great source of intel for the PSB??

An then there's the things I just can't get behind. Aoyama means to tell me that the whiskey trio didn't exist, that Rei's outrage and betrayal at seeing Rye over Scotch's dead body was...born in the moment? That Rei decided on making revenge his whole personality based on...nothing prior? That he and Vermouth accurately recreated Akai from a grainy bodycam video? I can, of course, read Rei as that kind of instantly obsessive guy who doesn't actually know Rye. But it's just no fun, that way, so I refuse. It's better if there was a simile of trust that could be broken.

Now, ignoring word of god and returning to actual canon, we're not quite there yet, but when it comes to the way things are going atm, I fear we might eventually head for a ship I have no good feelings about: amua*u. I'm certainly biased, but Rei deserves better than to have a girl who doesn't actually know his true self, not his name, not his face; better than the microaggresions and racism that when he calls her out on, she defends herself with "I'm not as smart as you, bleh"; someone who doesn't say she hates spending time with him because it will get her bullied online. Rei deserves someone who will stand by his side, keep up with him, and loves him for who he is. This girl is not that, and if it comes to it, I will reject this ship. But for now, this is only a hypothetical, and I really hope Aoyama will reconsider.

(Actually, while I was thinking about this, I figured out something that is canon, but that I outright reject: Rei's "crush" on Elena. I believe that he loved her, but that he saw her as a mother figure, and he's most certainly not still pining over her, shut up Matsuda.)

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

Uh. Okay. What's a hill I could comfortably die on when it comes to Rei. Something that is mildly controversial, perhaps. Um.

I think Rei would look great with knives, but that's not really worth dying for, is it?

Hm.

I had a whole paragraph written about how I would like to see a more nuanced take on Rei, and not exaggerate things as much for comedic purposes, but I'm also guilty of that, so that would be quite hypocritical for me to say. And I try not to be that person.

Instead, I'll just stick with my guns. Rei definitely tops more often than Akai- /shot

12. Crack headcanon

Oh god. Hm. I mean. I think my beloved Demon Lord Rei (hail) counts as a crack interpretation of the character?

I don't really have crack headcanons lying around, if anything I usually go for the crack treated seriously approach and make an AU out of it. See also: way too many words on the sweater AU, which started with the crack take of Rei stealing Akai's sweaters.

Just for you though, I saw this

image just now, so today's crack theory is that Bourbon wears contact lenses. Maybe they're superspy contact lenses that block him from being identified in iris scans. And also this would explain (partially) how he was so comfortable dressing up as scar!Akai-

(See? See this is the problem, I'm trying to rationalize it again. Can't have pure, unadulterated crack in this house.)

15. Worst thing they've ever done?

Do you want an excerpt from a wip on that?

Throughout the years, Bourbon works whichever jobs the syndicate demands of him.

Fence, enforcer, honey pot.

Spy.

Torturer.

Executioner.

The list goes on.

Each of them ruins someone's life, some more directly than others.

Among the more insidious jobs, for its false promises of fortune to the desperate and destitute, is working at the casino in Las Vegas.

I like to think that Rei has committed a variety of crimes for the sake of the job. Naturally, he wouldn't feel great about them, but what choice does he have? They're simply necessary to maintain his cover.

When it comes to bad things, there's probably a few that would make the list. Perhaps trying to kill Elena's daughter is somewhere on it. Perhaps he doesn't have compassion for her; Rei, after all, appears to be focused on specific people that hold his attention, not their surroundings.

If one asked him, though, under duress and the influence of a truth serum, he'd probably say the worst thing he's done is to drag Hiro along with him right down into hell. Got him interested in the police academy, and then the PSB, and then this mission.

The price was too high, but Rei only came to realise it after it had already been paid.

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves?

Rei is cripplingly lonely, struggles to make new connections, and eventually, his job will not be enough to stave off the dark hours of night. He can work himself to the brink of exhaustion, or even death, but it won't matter. There is only one of him, and so, so many crooks that want to exploit and kill and destroy.

And eventually, if he lives long enough, he'll need to stop and face all his life's mission has cost him. The countless hours of sleep lost because he'd rather work than face the nightmares. The lives of his friends, which he didn't get to see aside from the few times they went to visit graves. The thankless nature of it all, as he works in the shadows to keep the public safe. He can't ever be a Hiro hero, he won't be; the public would condemn him for his deeds.

(It's already started; his hatred for Akai has superseded the mission. If that's gone, too, what will he have left?)

And at this point, at this crucial junction, I hope he finds a new reason to breathe. Because otherwise, I fear he might break down and disappear.

[humanjarvis]

road trip

synopsis: you get revenge on caleb during his graduation trip.

tags: nsfw (mdni), semi-public sex, dry humping, caleb fucks around (figuratively) and finds out, caleb/mc are intimate before homecoming wings, caleb whimpers, caleb wheezes, caleb begs, caleb is pathetic, caleb comes in his pants while mc ignores him  pairing: caleb x reader, reader is mc but uses y/n word count: 968

a/n: i literally got up at 8 am on a sunday to write this i am not well 

As excited as you’d been to commemorate Caleb's last year of college, his graduation trip to the aerospace museum was off to a rocky start. 

Last night, he’d suddenly shut down your plans to celebrate your friend’s birthday before you went out of town, joining his friends’ road trip as his plus-one. He’d said you needed to get some rest before your 8-hour journey, but with the way his eyes went wide and nostrils flared when he saw your outfit, you knew that wasn’t the only reason. 

You’d spent the rest of the night and the next morning angry, and it only got worse when Caleb’s friends came to pick you up. One extra person had decided to come last-minute, meaning there weren’t enough seats for all of you, no matter how tightly you squeezed together. 

As the closest pair in the group, you were forced to sit on Caleb's lap. You’d seethed in unprecedented indignation as he guided you down on him, the scowl on your face widening the smirk on his. 

An hour into the drive, you’re still staring out the window in rage, Caleb's arms secured tightly around you, when you realize something. You know this route. You’d traveled it a couple years prior for your senior trip in high school on the way to some world-renowned aquarium. 

At your realization, your frustration turns into opportunity. The roads on this route are a pothole-ridden nightmare from years of government neglect, and you’re going to use this intel to make Caleb pay. 

Discreetly, you slide yourself further back on his legs, positioning your ass right over his crotch. You conceal your movements through a conversation with Gideon’s girlfriend that you bring to an abrupt end once you’re settled. It’s time for your game to begin. 

At first, you’re subtle. Matching the rhythm of the bumpy ride, you lightly jostle in Caleb’s hold, feeling his fingers flex around your waist. 

“Careful, pipsqueak,” he murmurs in warning. “Wouldn’t want you sliding off.” 

You don’t respond. Your earlier anger is the perfect excuse not to acknowledge him through this entire thing, and you silently bless your short temper. He’s going to unravel with your back turned, you facing forward, your eyes on everything but him. 

When the car hits a small pothole, you lean back into him, “innocently” grinding your ass into his crotch. Immediately, Caleb wheezes behind you, almost concussing both of you the way he falls forward in shock. 

“What are you doing,” he hisses when he recovers, his words more an admonishment than a question. 

Resolutely, you pay him no mind, striking up a group discussion about the museum. What kinds of planes do they have there? How big is it? Have any of you ever been? And all the while, you continue tormenting the man beneath you, using the cavities of the road to assist. 

On one particularly sharp turn, you grind your hips into him a little harder, feeling the outline of his bulge between your legs. At this point, Caleb has caught on. Taking heaving breaths, he leans into your shoulder with a soft groan, muttering, “Don’t do this to me, Y/N. Not here, please.”

As he whispers into your ear, his absence from the larger conversation takes center stage. “You alright back there, Caleb?” Gideon calls from the driver’s seat. “Need any water? A/C?” 

“I’m fine,” Caleb grits out, barely managing to mask his grunt. 

Smiling to yourself, you adjust on his lap as you peer through the windshield, taking in the busy scene ahead of you. There’s some kind of festival going on, it seems, and half the street is blocked by a colorful array of vehicles. The lack of space forces Gideon’s full-size SUV onto the gravelly edge of the road.

Perfect, you think. Time for the grand finale. 

Bracing your hands on Caleb's thighs for support, you let the rest of your body go limp, leaving yourself completely at the mercy of the rocks ruining Gideon’s paint job. Up and down, up and down, up and down you went, virtually bouncing on Caleb’s growing erection. 

“Please,” he whimpers into your ear, not daring to speak above a whisper. Another bounce, and his hands are grasping at your hips while he throws his head back, jaw clenched shut. 

Dutifully, you ignore his cries and your own sticky arousal, refusing to falter until you get what you want. 

As he grows even harder beneath you, Caleb’s pleas grow more frantic. “Y/N, please. I-I’m sorry for last night, just—please. Fuck, please,” he stammers, a tremor in his voice. 

Just as the final plea leaves his mouth, an especially deep pothole throws you from his lap and a few inches into the air. A second later, gravity sends you crashing back down onto his aching, straining cock, and you feel it. Caleb comes hard, mouth dropping open in a silent scream, eyes closing in a mix of ecstasy and shame. To avoid suspicion, he buries his face into your shoulder while he rides out the rest of his high, pitiful whimpers and groans drowned out by the chords of cheerful pop songs on the radio. 

Reveling in the way Caleb’s whines vibrate through your skin, you turn your head slowly, checking your reflections in the rear-view mirror. When the coast is clear, you press a soft, teasing kiss to his hair, to which he twitches under you.

You’re filled with a wicked, awful glee, but you keep your face a mask of nonchalance as you call out, “Hey Gideon, can we stop at a gas station soon? I need to freshen up.”

For the rest of the trip, the Caleb who’d been so proud to forbid you from going out couldn’t meet your gaze, flushing crimson every time he saw you. 

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Shuuichi loves Rei like a pair of well-worn boots.

When first they walked together, there was nothing but blisters. But with every step, with every mile, they've moulded each other, slowly but surely. Nowadays, he struggles to think he could ever pick any other; too well-worn are the grooves, too familiar the way they fit together.

They can still shine, even after decades of wear and tear. All it takes is care; it would be foolish to assume they would still work well together without continuous efforts to stave off their growing age.

And so it is that even after all this time, they still fit together snugly. Despite the troubles, it was a good investment, once upon a time.

Chances are, they'll march in lockstep 'til the day he dies; and if he's really, truly lucky, they'll be buried together too.

Thinking about old men shuurei…

Shuuichi with salt-and-pepper hair and eyesight that’s nowhere near as sharp as it used to be… wearing reading glasses as he sits in their living room, reading a mystery book he’s still fond of. He can make more than just stews and curry now, but he’s oh-so-very fond of the exasperated look his husband gives him when Shuuichi comes into the dining room with a pot of curry for the fifth time in a week.

What can he say? The neighbourhood children, his grand-nephews and grand-nieces, still all love curry. And so does his husband, despite the fond way he huffs when Shuuichi cooks it too often.

Rei with lighter hair, graying as well but less immediately obvious with how it blends in with the blond… a little wrinkled now, a little less sprightly than he used to be, but he still scrambles up onto rooftops to fix holes and leads local radio calisthenics. He may have retired, as much as he grumbled about having nothing to do anymore, but that doesn’t stop him from looking into cases every now and then. He’s kept his mind as sharp as he could.

Years of marriage, years of sharing their life in this small house they had built to their tastes decades back. They’re not quite the same people they were in their 20s, their 30s, but that doesn’t stop them both from loving who they are now just as deeply as they did when they were younger.

Their grief is still there, but their lives have grown around it. and it’s not as easy to idealize reuniting with loved ones as it was in their youth. They’ve changed so much, after all, and the ones they’ve lost wouldn’t quite recognize them anymore. So they hope that their loved ones have passed on peacefully, and perhaps even to reunite one day in a new life.

As a child, Rei so wanted a family who loved him. As a teen, Shuuichi so wanted his family to return to what it was before. In his twenties, Rei would’ve thought himself lucky if anyone bothered to keep his ashes when he died. In his thirties, Shuuichi half-expected his corpse would be thrown into the ocean, never to be found.

Now though, Rei has a dizzyingly large extended family he wouldn’t have even dared to long for as a child. Perhaps the Furuya family register still only has himself and his husband, but the Seras welcomed him as one of them regardless, and one day he’d be entombed in a proper family grave with his husband.

Now though, even if his father may never return, Shuuichi finds his peaceful days certainly have, with the fall of the Organization both he and Rei ensured with bloodied hands. He’s not enough of a good man to feel guilt at living when others deserved it more. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still appreciate it, every sleepy morning he awakes to his husband warm in the bed next to him.

They can have a calm ending together, after everything.

[decodedlvr]

Don’t think about you and Eddie in your mid 30s’, your little baby is sound asleep in her crib, you’re in the kitchen stirring the sauce for tonight’s pasta

hair in a messy bun, chipped nails, in a pair of Eddie’s sweats and a bleach stained covered shirt minding yourself

until Eddie comes up to hold you from behind, swaying you both to the melody of Iris, him singing in your ear with such passion and rasp—

“And I'd give up forever to touch you

'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be—

And I don't want to go home right now

—And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am”

You smile sadly, unknowingly your tears are drenching your face and neck, thinking of that memory

because he’s not there. he died years ago, but you still feel him. you still see him in those big, brown eyes of your little girl who’s staring at you from the kitchen table

“You ok mama?”

“Yeah baby, I’m alright” you nod quickly, sniffling, drying your tears with the collar of your shirt, plating your meals to sit at the table, “Was just thinking about—

“Daddy?”

You look at her fondly, rubbing the side of her face, “Yeah, I was thinkin about daddy. You know he loved this song”

“I know.”

You stare at his empty placemat internally voicing “I love you”, meanwhile Eddie’s right there, staring right back at you with that same wide beautiful smile

“I love you too sweetheart.”

Yeah, you’re crying aren’t you? I told you not to think about it.

[iriscasefiles]

today i finished scripting a first draft of the final episode of starship iris. this means i now have a rough draft of the whole final season.

...i was gonna say something about needing to process my emotions by lying down on my floor for a while but it's night now and probably what i should do is process my emotions by sleeping.

[iris-honey-bee]

Just a quick König thought

I really like the idea of him being super pathetic and desperate when it comes to you. That man is so incredibly anxious that he isn’t talking to girls, he’s not getting his dick wet- not until he met you. So loving and patient.. kind and soft. He’s the kind of man that’s rutting his hips into the bed as he merely touches you, how he’s spreading your legs to just catch a glimpse at the ethereal beauty between your legs. Meanwhile the bed slightly rocks with the force of him grinding against the bed. Cumming in his sweats before you even let him touch you. It’s his idea to go slow.. he knows that once he gets a taste metaphorically and physically that it’s over for him. That’s all he’s going to want to do and he will be done for.

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Alright, let's break down the options in order of likelihood:

Option A: Rei steals the sweaters. This one's first because I agree with you, op, if Akai tried to steal Rei's clothes there'd be hell to pay. That does leave the question why Akai even has a cream sweater like that, considering it does not fit into his colour palette. I propose this could be a sweater Mary sent her idiot son so he wouldn't freeze before he was done with his mission. He doesn't usually wear it, but for stakeouts in the cold you could sometimes see a bit of cream poking through these days (you can bet he didn't wear it as Rye because he had a cool guy persona to maintain). Rei stealing it is kinda accidental - it's early, he's slept maybe two hours if he's lucky, and yeah, sure, he can't remember the comfy cream thing in his hands but it surely isn't Akai's. Maybe Kazami brought him more clothes. Is this a stealthy ploy by Akai to make sure he stays warm? Who knows. (Even when he's not wearing it anymore, the warmth lingers. Maybe he's caught the flu.) He's not giving that sweater back btw.

Option B: Akai steals them. This solves the colour palette issue, because Amuro Tooru definitely owns cream sweaters. Bourbon probably owns way-too-expensive cashmere sweaters (and for completion's sake, Furuya Rei probably owns white functional wear). In this scenario, either Akai's stealing them as sort of a challenge ("you have no right to call the Kudos out for their terrible security, I nabbed this one from your place. Your dog even licked my face."), and a sort of survival training (because if you can survive an angry Rei, you can probably also like. Deal with a couple of rabid dogs or bears or something like that). Alternatively, Akai was out as Okiya Subaru, somehow got wrapped up in saving Rei's cover, as he does, and ended up getting blood all over his nice jacket (don't worry, it's not his own). This leaves Rei with the societal obligation to have the thing dry-cleaned (at a PSB facility, because he's not explaining the stains to the nice old lady two blocks down). Also there's an obligation to make sure the stupid FBI agent doesn't freeze to death while he's still useful ("You brought a gun, but no change of clothes?? Idiot."). So he gives Akai-as-Okiya his spare sweater, a fluffy white affair that shouldn't look good on Akai, but kinda does for Okiya (Rei can't quite discard the possibility this was all a ploy on Akai's part to get his clothes). Anyways, he makes a point to arrange for a hostage clothing exchange, makes Akai swear he'll bring it back dry-cleaned as well. (If he lies awake, wondering how Akai would look stained in white, wearing his sensible clothing, that's because he finds it hard to fall asleep at all, these days.) Akai returns the sweater clean, but smelling faintly of smoke. Rei almost rips his head off (but starts wearing that sweater more often).

Surprise! There's an option C: there's two sweaters. This comes in a variety of flavours, though in all honesty, Kazami is the most likely culprit. You see, Furuya has sent him shopping again (Bourbon needs more variety in his clothing, if he wears the same thing twice Vermouth will make concerned comments about his financial state - you don't want Vermouth "concerned"). So he's gone and there's this really nice cream sweater. It's warm and soft like Furuya and white is really his boss' colour. And hey, they also have it in his own size, too! They can be matching! So he grabs both of them, and sure, it's a little expensive, but nothing's too expensive where Furuya is concerned. Smash-cut to Kazami presenting his newest haul. As is usual, some clothes are discarded (nope, he still doesn't like the scarlet dress shirt, even though it would go great with his cream blazer), but most he keeps. Kazami takes it as the improvement it is. There's a strange glint in Furuya's eyes as he notices the two sweaters, and with a comment about the thoughtfulness, he requisitions both of them. There goes Kazami's sweater :(

(Years later, he sees Akai at some sort of function to celebrate the takedown of the BO, wearing that same sweater, and he gets it.)

Alternatives to option C include: Akai bought the same sweater to mess with Rei. Kazami buys two sweaters because he's a good agent and he can see they're stealing each other's clothes. Camel gifts one to Rei to thank him for his help, and because there's a buy-one-get-one-free kinda deal he gives the other to Akai (he would've liked to give one to Jodie instead but they didn't have her size).

Option D: Coincidence?

ever since i saw this post asking if akam was wearing the same sweater, it got me thinking. who will be the one stealing the clothes and who keeps finding their clothes stolen?

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Maybe its just me, but the way Lily wrote a Doctor being fine and enabling Iris and Kiera in...basically everything wrong with their sisters relationship down the line is just...quite telling of what she thinks doctors should do and shouldn't so. She has Iris basically rely on Kiera to commuicate via...blinking and looks and points and Kiera's telepathy kicked in each time to speak for her sister, which any Doctor would take the obvious BS in Kiera getting full sentences out of blinking and looks and have Kiera removed from the room so they can focus on commuicating with Iris and helping her with ways to do so, but no, Kiera insists on how Iris hates being seperated from Kiera and they have to be kept together and....the doctor just takes Kiera's word for it, and allows Kiera to continue speaking for Iris without checking if its what Iris is saying. Almost like Lily hates that a doctor once said Lily and Courtney shouldn't be left in the same room together alone, which that situation is obviously different to doctors seeing what's caused Iris to go mute and then help her commuicate, but like, given how Lily throughout the fic is making it out like a sibling depending forever on another sibling and being way too close even for siblings is a good thing....

[circumstantialsimultaneity]

how do people do things they enjoy when theyre on their own. genuine question. my friends are always like "oh im actually gonna take the night to myself to chill and watch a movie i might do some hobby stuff too ^_^" i admire that so much like so so so much. when im by myself i stare at the wall and watch paint dry.

[mark-the-snark]

Behold:

Harry du Bois if he was in ace attorney! Maybe I'll make Kim sometime.

[littleluscinia]

Hitomi, post Mizuki Route: Iris... I don't know how to tell you. But the truth is your attempted killer, So Sejima, ... is actually your father.

Osiris:

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Rei always knew that Rye's intellect and his ability to plan ahead were what made him dangerous. He was really rather hoping he could avoid being the target of those skills. And yet here he is, having played right into Akai Shuuichi's hands.

(They're nice hands. Reliable. Steady.)

The sweetest kind of defeat, to slip a ring on the hand of the architect of his own downfall.

[humanjarvis]

three things

“oh my god, how is it already 6:50? it was 6:10 the last time i checked,” you ramble, practically shoving your left earring in.

fiddling with his cuff link, sylus chuckles unhurriedly. “that’s how time works, sweetie.”

“shut it. we’re gonna be late,” you whine, whipping around to rummage through your handbag. “we’re gonna be late, and…”

pausing your panicked search, you look around the room forlornly.

“keys,” he drawls mercifully, paying your lost expression no mind.

“right. keys,” you sigh in relief, snatching your discarded keychain from the coffee table. “now where is my—”

“wallet?” he teases. sauntering up behind you, he wraps an arm around your waist and slips the leather case into your hands. “right here.”

frowning, you lift it to eye level, glaring at it suspiciously. “i swear, i left you in my purse. how did you even escape?”

an amused hum sounds from behind you.

“well, that’s it, i think.” pausing, you scan the room around you to double-check and give him a frazzled nod. “okay, yes. i’m ready, let’s go!”

you make it a total of two rushed steps before sylus blocks your path, wordlessly cocking an eyebrow.

“what?” you wheeze, heartbeat pounding in your ears. “sylus, we have to hurry! our reservation is at 7:00!”

in front of you, crimson mist suspends something small and black in midair. “phone,” sylus says, voice dipping with a fond sigh.

“oh. yeah. i guess i do need tha—”

dangling helplessly above you, your phone blinks to life with a new message. but before you can grab it, it rises several inches higher in the air.

with a lazy smirk, sylus settles his eyes on you expectantly. “are you forgetting something else, kitten?” he asks, checking his watch with a playful tsk. “we don’t have all day.”

for a moment, you gape at him, too flustered to play his guessing game. but as your stalemate continues, the gleam in his ruby irises clues you in.

slowly, you approach him, running your palms along his chest. “you’re right. how could i forget?” you whisper with a small smile. standing up on your tiptoes, you brush his cheek with a sweet kiss. “thank you.”

[yardofangels]

hai, what do you think readers reaction would be to seeing König in a proper tailored suit for the first time? whether it's for a date or taking her to a friends wedding. love your writing btw! ^_^

OMG BABY'S FIRST REQUEST (its me im baby)

so glad you like my writing!! hope you enjoy this :3

----

SHE WOULD LOSE IT

she stumbles on him in bathroom or the bedroom lazily doing his tie up, unaware that she's staring from behind the door frame. his sleeves rolled up to his forearms because he cant stand the feeling of the cuffs tickling his wrists (god forbid wearing cuff links), accentuating his fuck-off large biceps.

reader just wants to jump him. he looks so handsome, a suit is the most timeless way to flatter a man. and flatter it does. she swears he has more of a waist than she does, the way it pulls in and sticks tightly to his chest and hips, she can see every single muscle rolling under the white fabric, reminding her of how they roll when he... yeah! his shoulders contorting as he smooths out the tie and flicks his collar down, she can't take her eyes off it.

and lord, there is something so satisfying about seeing her usually roughed-up and careless man all prim and proper. no scruffy stubble, no dirt under his nails, no hair covering his forehead. the fabric just CLINGING to him everywhere it matters, and as he shifts slightly on his feet, purely acting from his subconscious, his thighs tense. jesus christ, the material was almost too tight. did they fuck up his measurements or something? was he even able to move?? surely he could move enough to...

she's struggling to keep it together.

konig notices a flash of movement in the corner of his eye, and it came as no surprise for him that it was her. he turns around with a grin on his face, able to read what's on her mind.

"you like it, schatz?"

stupid question. but, a rhetorical question. he cuts her off before she can respond, leaning down to give her a quick kiss.

"of course i like it." she mumbles while touching up his hair. even after slicking it back, a few strands were falling over his eyes.

his aftershave is circling around her, making it harder to concentrate.

"i am still not sure about this...look. feels too fancy for me." konig shifts on his feet again, staring down at the ground. he never liked dressing up, not ever. makes him feel out of place.

"maybe a little, but that's alright, baby. it won't matter when it's on the floor."

[bluecubeblues]

so are we like, disembodied voices to you guys?

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