#I made this at 3 am I’m so sleep deprived

[pequins]

hear me out hear me out a schlatt fic where hes up late editing and reader is in bed waiting for him so they go check on him, telling him to come to bed and stuff, but when he doesnt, they climb on the chair, sitting on his lap so they block the view, and schlatt obv is now turned on and then they get freakyy 😈 perchance afab!reader, f!reader ‼️

nonnie you’re so smart come kiss me

cont: sleep deprived perfectionist schlatt, afab!reader, unprotected sex & creampie

an: any typos were the work of my opps and i am not liable for them (i wrote this after staying awake for 27 hours)

word count: too many

Jay leaned back in his chair, letting out a low groan as his muscles ached from the prolonged sitting. He had spent the whole day recording and editing a vlog for his channel, unintentionally neglecting you and his need for rest in the process. He was exhausted, his eyes strained from staring at the screen for so long.

he glanced up the time on his screen, wincing as he saw how late it was, 3:46 am? He could’ve swore it was just 9, “jesus..” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. despite his eyes burning from lack of sleep and extensive time staring at a screen, he was determined to finish this video before going to sleep.

meanwhile, you were watching him from the door frame, leaning against it with a disapproving look. Although you understood his dedication to his work, you worried about the toll it was taking on him. “Jay, it’s late, you gotta sleep sometime or you’ll go crazy.” you said, he sighed, glancing at you with a mixture of fatigue and stubbornness. “I know, I know. I’m almost done, just let me finish something real quick.”

you sighed, sounding similar to that of a disappointed mother, knowing that ‘real quick’ is just his way of excusing hours more of work. you approached him, standing behind his chair and gently resting your hands on his tense shoulders. “yknow, the video will still be there tomorrow.” you remarked, silently pleading for your giant boyfriends comforting presence while you slept.

he groaned quietly as you began to massage his shoulders, feeling a few knots that had formed after hours of hunching over the desk. your touch was soothing, and for a moment, he was tempted to drop everything and curl up with you in bed. unfortunately, his perfectionist tendencies were too strong, the thought of leaving a project unfinished being simply unbearable. “I promise I’ll come to bed in just a minute,” he said, eyes remaining fixed on the screen.

you grew increasingly frustrated with his relentless dedication to his work, your touch transitioning from a therapeutic massage to something more intimate, your fingers tracing along his collarbone and neck, causing a shiver to erupt from him. you leaned down, your breath tickling his ear as you lowered your voice to a sultry whisper. "come on, you work too much.”

he let out a shaky exhale, his eyes closing for a moment as he focused on the sensation of your touch. “baby..” he muttered quietly, his breathing getting more uneven. your hands slowly slid down his chest, sending a shiver down his spine as you played dirty. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, his resolve to finish the video slowly crumbling.

“what do I have to do to get you off this damn chair?” you asked, smiling as you heard his uneven breaths. your touch was like electricity to his senses, sending a shiver down his spine that made it difficult to focus on anything else. he felt his resolve weakening, the allure of your words was almost too much to resist.

“toots, i’m—“ he stopped himself, clearing his throat. “i’m almost done, you’re distractin’ me.” he said, his voice strained and breathless. you smiled, continuing your assault on his senses, your fingers slowly running down his chest “cmon,” you whispered, your lips hovering near his neck. “take a break.”

schlatt's eyes widened as you abruptly climbed onto the chair, straddling his lap in a way that certainly had his attention. he could feel the heat radiating from your core as you settled on top of him, the weight of your body against him making his shorts suddenly feel much tighter, his hands instinctively finding their way to your hips.

"you're playing dirty, y'know." he said, his voice betraying a hint of a strained breath. you could practically feel his resistance faltering as your presence made it hard for him to focus on anything else. he tried to keep his eyes fixed on the screen, determined to finish his video, but you both knew you had him right where you wanted him.

with a sly smile, you leaned forward, your body pressing against his chest as you kissed along his exposed collarbone. "i think you've worked enough for tonight, don't you?" you purred, your fingers tracing along his jawline. a low groan escaped his throat, the growing pressure in his boxers making him painfully aware of your closeness, his resolve was quickly crumbling.

he knew he should resist, but the allure of your body against his was overtaking his logic. "cmon, come to bed," you whispered, hands trailing underneath his large sweater. "you need to rest." your body against his was driving him crazy.

he could feel the heat of your breath against his skin, the teasing igniting a fire within him. his heart was racing, the room suddenly feeling unbearably hot. he tried to focus on the screen, to resist the pull of your kisses, but his determination was slipping away with each passing second.

"dammit toots..." he exhaled, his voice strained and low, his body already reacting to your every touch. your close proximity was making it difficult for him to think clearly, his usually sharp mind becoming foggy with want. you gently pushed yourself off of the chair with a coy smile, taking a step backwards, gesturing for him to follow.

he grumbled, reluctantly pushing himself off of the chair and standing up, his body protesting the movement after being stuck in the same position for so long. he followed you silently, his mind still fighting to hold onto his work, his body fighting the urge to give into your allure. you led him into the bedroom, the dimly lit room feeling much more intimate than his claustrophobic office.

you stopped when the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips, inviting him silently. the air was heavy with tension, the desire between you both palpable. his gaze hungrily trailed over your figure, his hands twitching and clenching with restraint.

he reached out, his hands roughly grabbing your hips, pulling you flush against him. his grip possessive yet filled with a tenderness that betrayed his usual rugged exterior, sending a shiver down your spine. his hands began to roam your body, finding their way under your shirt, exploring every inch of you with a hungry desperation.

his touch was electric, igniting a fire within your core that spread throughout your body. his breathing was ragged, his lips now pressed against your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. “fuck, i need you" he muttered against your skin, his voice low and rough, his body pressing you down against the bed.

he loomed over you, the weight of his big body pinning you to the soft sheets. his hands continued their exploration, pushing your shirt up and over your head, discarding it on the floor. his mouth returned to your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your chest, down your stomach. his hands slowly unbuttoned your pants, sliding them off and discarding them as well.

he looked down at you, his gaze taking in every inch of your body, his eyes dark and dilated with need. "you're so fuckin’ beautiful." he said, his voice a low growl, his hands now digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. he positioned himself between your legs, pressing himself against your heat. you reached up, his words sending a thrill through your body, your fingers tangling in his dark hair.

he let out a guttural moan as your fingers gripped his hair, the sensation heightening his already sensitive state. his hands gripped your hips, lifting them up, positioning himself closer to you as he trembled with restraint. "i need you, right now." there was a possessive edge to his words, a hint of vulnerability that betrayed his usually guarded nature.

his hands ran over your body, tracing patterns on your skin, desperate to feel you, to claim you. he abruptly pulled your soaked panties down to your ankles, almost drooling at the sight of your bare pussy. he slatternly slid his gym shorts and boxers down to his ankles, briskly freeing his thick cock, tip already shiny and leaking precum.

he braced himself on your hips as he roughly slid into you, gripping at your hips so tightly they’d probably bruise, pulling out just to the tip before thrusting back in. "fuck" he groaned, eyes glassy and desperate as he soaked in the needy moans erupting from you. he threw his head back, letting out deep, gutteral groans as your cunt tightened around him.

the sound of his breathing grew heavier as he continued his movements, reaching deep inside of you, brushing against all the right spots. each movement forced a strangled moan to escape your mouth, mouth agape as your breath was knocked out of you with every thrust. His thrusts became less rhythmic and more sloppy, the sensations almost too much.

"oh god—“ he moaned, his voice cracking as he pounded into you, just hearing you was enough to send him over the edge. It didn't take long for you to become cockdrunk, gripping at the sheets to stay grounded as you mewled and trembled.

his pace faltered, groans getting louder and more gravelly as he chased his high. you whimpered as you felt him abruptly release inside of you, his chest heaving as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, breathy kisses on your collarbone. you both huffed, giggling with what little breath you had left after the intense high.

[bugdna]

I hope this hasn’t been done before

[lovecoredeity]

I lied: I probably will be posting a proper commission sheet sometime in the coming week, maybe this weekend, it all depends on what like I’ve got going on (as I’ve said June is a really busy month so if anything it may be late June before I’m like opening commissions) sorry in advance for that!!

[alienzil]

Nanny Danny

“That is a whole ass baby,” was the only thought running through Lex Luthor’s head when the scientist proudly showed him the tube containing Project KR. It was not remotely the sort of thing he would normally think and most definitely not what he had expected to be thinking the first time he saw the clone.

He’d been pleased when he’d read the reports indicating the success of KR after years of failures. Lex had poured millions of dollars and literally his own blood into ensuring a clone of the alien could be made, one that would be under his total control instead of the unknown aspirations of Superman.  He’d wanted to see the fruits of his labors personally but this…

It. No, not an it. He scrunched his tiny face and smacked his lips and…did he smirk? Was that HIS SMIRK on that baby’s face?! No. No. Babies this small didn’t smile or smirk. They passed gas and their sleep deprived and addled parents mistook it for an intelligent response. He’d heard enough inane conversations in the Lexcorp office about the various progeny of his employees to pick up on that but still. This child had Kryptonian DNA, not to mention his own contribution. Surely, he was far more advanced than the dribbling potato shaped lump of an infant whose pictures he’d been forced to smile and nod over when Mark from accounting had rudely shoved them in his face at the last quarterly budget meeting. Yes, that was definitely a smirk. His, that was his smirk.

“So as you can see its growth is well within expected parameters and we’re planning to start phase one of accelerating the maturation process tomorrow once the testing is do-”

“Take him out.”

“Sir? The testing can all be accomplished while it remains in the tube. There’s no need to-”

“I said, take him out. The project is cancelled.”

“What?! Mr. Luthor you can’t!”

“I think you’ll find I can. Now get me my son.”

*****

Two years later

“Call them again”

“Sir, I’ve called them seven times. They won’t answer.”

“Then call another agency!”

“There isn’t another agency, Sir”

Lex glared at his assistant who stared back at him impassively. Mercy stood by the door staring off into the distance and pretending she didn’t notice him being bested by his own secretary.

He stopped himself from shouting again and took a deep breath before asking, “Then what, exactly, do you propose I do Mrs. Anderson? Adjust my entire schedule around naptimes? Find a toddler size lab coat and safety goggles and bring my son with me to tour the new clean energy project on Thursday? Perhaps buy a tiny business suit while I’m at it for the next board meeting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything of the sort, Mr. Luthor. I’m telling you that no childcare agency in Metropolis will return my calls anymore. Most won’t even answer.  You’ve gone through 27 nannies in the last 3 months. You need someone better suited to your son’s…special needs.”

Lex snorted. “Special needs might be a bit of understatement. He can lift a car over his head and his favorite word right now is No.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Thank you for…clarifying the situation, Marjorie. If there’s nothing else, you can leave.”

His secretary didn’t move. She looked at him like she was waiting for something and now that he was paying attention, he saw she was holding a file.  “Did you have a suggestion?”

Looking pleased with herself she responded, “Actually, yes, I did.”

“Well?”

She set the file on his desk and flipped it open. He looked down at the first page and raised an eyebrow, “What am I looking at here?”

“This,” she responded pulling out the top set of papers and spreading them out, “is the employee file and background check for Daniel J. Fenton, an intern that started in our engineering department about 4 months ago. He has one sibling, two parents and several close friends he regularly meets with. His current supervisor has nothing but good things to say about him and reports he gets along well with all his coworkers.”

She set out the next set of papers, neatly arranging them on the desk to be easily seen. “These are newspaper articles and screenshots of social media posts regarding a small town vigilante locally known as Phantom. The same small town, Mr. Fenton is from coincidentally. Also coincidentally, Phantom made his first appearance only a few weeks after Mr. Fenton was involved in a minor accident in his parent’s home laboratory when he was 14, the medical records for the incident are included.”

“Hmm,” Lex said observing several photos of Phantom and a younger Fenton arranged in order of similar poses and facial expressions and printed out side by side.

“Finally,” she said handing him the last set of papers directly, “this would be a report from the lab Mr. Fenton works in from an incident that happened yesterday. A test with a new protype went wrong and started a fire. Everyone evacuated per protocol when the alarms went off but one of the other interns was working on a programming issue off to the side of the lab while wearing headphones and didn’t hear the alarm or notice the fire. Mr. Fenton noticed his absence and returned to the lab to get him out.” She stopped talking and let him look at the last several pages in the file, a series of photographs of the lab.

“Is this ice?”

“Yes, it is. It’s several inches thick and covers half of the lab. It completely put out the fire leaving minimal damage.”

“This machine was moved?”

“It was. It was very close to the flames and would have required replacement if exposed to extreme heat or cold. That particular piece of equipment also weighs several thousand pounds and was bolted to the floor.”

Lex read through everything in detail then clasped his hands under his chin and stared at the photo of Daniel Fenton for several moments before turning back to his waiting secretary.

“Have HR send Mr. Fenton up. I’d like to offer him a promotion.”

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny- pt. 10

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9]

“This you?”

Danny glanced at the stone tablet in Spoiler’s hands and groaned, Phantom form flickering with embarrassment as his face got even more neon green. It was indeed him.

——

The first Atlantean and Ghost King encounter went something like this:

Imagine Danny, sleep deprived. Easy enough. Now, imagine Danny, trying to corral a ghost that had a penchant for sea life.

“Alabastor, I swear to Ancients, if you don’t get back here, I’m gonna make you into ghost sea-food boil!” Danny yelled as he chased Alabastor through the ghost zone. The crustacean shaped ghost cackled, skittering along the Zone.

"Make me, Phantom! You have not seen the might of the sea!"

"That's it, soup-time, crabby!"

Danny dove after Alabastor, chasing him face first into a temporal portal and right into the sea.

"BEHOLD!" Alabastor rumbled, claws raised and sea churning around him. Danny flew at him, noticing the screaming people below. He quickly raised a dome of clear ice to protect their entire city before returning his attention back to the giant crustacean. The distraction cost him, as Alabastor blasted him with a beam of his power. "THE MIGHT OF THE SEA!"

"SOUP!" Danny bellowed back, Alabastor's power forcing him into a giant crab form, aside from, hilariously, his head. Danny, always quick to adapt, slammed a massive claw straight into one of Alabastor's eyes and popped open the Fenton Thermos with a feral grin. In but moments, Danny manages to soup Alabastor but not before slamming him down onto the unbreakable ice Danny had just made.

Carefully turning by skittering sideways, he unmelted his ice.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly to the gawking civilians below.

"Suh-ree? What is suh-ree?" A brave woman asked.

"Oh," Danny uttered as he realized that he should probably switch languages. His giant crab body and small itty bitty human head swayed in an unsure motion. "Sorry means "my apologies." I had not meant to involve you. I am Phantom."

"It is alright... thank you for protecting us... God Phantom?"

He grimaced. "Not a god."

"King, then." She stepped forward. "May I ask of the ice?"

——

Spoiler, sensing weakness like the Riddler to a riddle, leaned in. "Did you know they have a traditional dance to honor the god that gave them the unbreakable ice that protects Atlantis to this day? It goes like this," Spoiler stepped back and did the dance, complete with exaggerated arm movements and, embarrassingly, the scuttle walk Crab!Danny was forced to learn with his new crab form.

"We shall never speak of this again," Danny huffed.

"But King Phantom, the God of Eternal Ice and Protection, how could we not celebrate your iciness?" Spoiler simpered, Black Bat not too far away and shaking with laughter. The purple donning vigilante did the scuttle dance once more, picking up bottles as she went a small circle around one of Bludhaven's rock beaches.

Danny scowled and plucked the tablet away from her, hair flowing an a more agitated direction. His jumpsuit burned brighter. "Why are you two menaces in Bludhaven? I thought your territory was in Gotham."

"Nightwing asked for back up and we were in the area." Spoiler, blessedly, stopped the walk to answer him. "By the way, are you and Danny dating?"

"Pardon?" He asked, insulted but highly amused.

"Oh, you know, he has your number, and you only ever talk to him outside of us, and how you guys have a high level of communication." Spoiler said leadingly.

Oh, Danny knew what this was about now. He found out their identities and now these two are interrogating him because he liked them best. They thought they were so clever. Well, they clearly haven't gotten to know Danny at all if they thought he was going to make good decisions.

Danny tilted his head, making sure his face gets as eerie as possible, shadows elongating and eyes burning just that much brighter. The neon green of his face shone even brighter against the suddenly dark landscape of the place. Black Bat stood up, laughter seizing immediately. Spoiler tensed.

"I have a riddle for you. You are good at those, are you not?"

Spoiler blinked but gamely said, "Bring it."

"What do these things have in common? An arguing couple, papers on a stranger's desk, and Star City's robbers."

"..." Spoiler slipped into her solving mode. "Stolen goods. Stolen hearts?" She guessed.

"No. The answer is that they're all none of your business," Danny snarled. His form flickered. "Keep your questing away from Danny- Daniel, vigilante. Your duty is to protect your city and help her," Danny swept an arm out. "Stick to that instead of inserting yourself into places you are not wanted."

Then, with a toss of an ecto-crossed recorder that held the verbal report he'd promised Nightwing towards Black Bat, Danny blinked out of the visible spectrum and flew above the two.

"... Shit, I think I pissed him off."

Black Bat nodded. "He was defensive."

"Yeah... did you hear that slip? Oh, they are so dating."

Danny grinned. He couldn't wait for Tim to interrogate him soon.

——

"You're kidding."

Danny shook his head, maniacal grin still on his face hours later. He'd taken the liberty to call his best friends before classes started for the day.

Tucker groaned. "Danny, I can't believe you're messing with Batman. Why are you like this."

"Look, I need your help."

"Oh no, keep me out of your dumbass plans, Fenton," Sam pointed at him through the screen, immaculately painted black nails threatening.

"Okay, if you go along with my plan, I'll give you Dr. Isley's number."

"Deal," Sam said immediately, changing her tune at a drop of a hat. Or, at a drop of a number.

"What about me?" Tucker asked, offended. "I deserve compensation for my work too, dammit!"

"I'll give you Tim Drake's number and persuade him to let you have a crack at Wayne Industry's tech basement."

"Deal, what are we doing?"

Danny's grin spread even wider. "We're dating. And, you two? You're Phantom's exes. Tucker, you say good stuff about me. Sam? You make up terrible things about me. But we're all dating each other and I'm dating Phantom on the side."

"I hate you," Sam deadpanned. "But fine, it's not that hard. I've got tons of embarrassing stories about Phantom. You better get me that number, Danny, because you know Dr. Isley was my gay awakening."

"For Tim Drake, I'd be willing to puff up your ego." Tucker said solemnly.

"Perfect. I'm cleaning his brother of ectoplasm today. so expect a call later! Love you guys!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, boyfriend." Sam clicked off the call.

"Think Tim Drake would be interested in a date?" Tucker asked Danny.

"Nah, I think he's got his heart on Benard."

"Damn," Tucker sighed. "Guess I'll have to mend my broken heart with the tools of a state-of-the-art lab, right, Danny?"

"Yep, see ya!" Danny hung up. Today was going to be a good day.

[primofate]

Confessions Series - Part 1: Overheard [Genshin Impact Male Characters]

Note: Welp I had the itch to write again so here I am. Though sleep deprived because baby keeps waking up every 3 hours to feed... I wanted to do this haha. Based on @soulprompts “I love you” prompts. What other character should I do?

Warnings: haven’t written in a while please excuse and tell me about pronoun slips, I’m sleep deprived, not proofread, some are just concepts of liking someone, having a crush on them, while some are full blown love confessions. SOME ARE ANGSTY, chose only the male characters I wanted to write for instead of forcing myself to do all of them.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader  

Other works in this series: (Part 2 - Description)

Scenario: Talking to a friend about how you feel about him. Unbeknownst to you, he was listening, hidden round the corner. What does he do?

Aether

“He’s sweet,” You simply answer when asked what you like about Aether. “I mean, he’s a simple guy. He’s not a mystery, it’s not hard to read him nor to get along with him. I guess that’s one of the reasons why a lot of people like him.” 

“Uhuh,” your friend drawls, their head lazily resting on their hand. “but you don’t just like Aether. You seriously LIKE him,” 

You’re rendered speechless by the statement for a second, tripping over your first words, “Well--I mean--” and as if realizing you’re making a fool of yourself by speaking in garbles, you recover. “Yeah, I guess...” You don’t know why you admit to it, but it’s not like your friend didn’t already know.

What he does:

Is tempted to immediately walk up to you and reconfirm the conversation.

Stops himself for a minute and replays the whole conversation in his head, probably once, twice and maybe a third time.

Second guesses himself, but when he finally goes through all possible options, he realizes there’s no mistaking the overheard confession.

All the while, Paimon is nagging him to go talk to you. “You didn’t hear wrong! Stop thinking too much, hurry and go!” Ends up being pushed out into the open by his flying companion.

“Erm...Ahem” he coughs into his fist. “I...didn’t mean to eavesdrop...Y/N, sorry, but... can we continue this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere...a little more private?” and the shy smile he gives you is a tell tale sign that he had most likely felt the same.

Albedo

“His schedule is always busy. He has his hands full with Klee, on top of all the work he needs to do,” was your excuse to your friend when asked why you haven’t confessed to the alchemist yet. “I don’t think Albedo has time for this type of thing, you know? He doesn’t need a distraction.”

What he does:

His logical side agrees that he doesn’t need a distraction.

But the other part of him doesn’t mind if its you.

Pauses for a moment, thinks about it for a second, before confronting you about it just minutes later.

“...Schedules can be made flexible, Y/N,” you jump at his sudden voice. “Just as distractions...can sometimes be a good thing,” Albedo stretches a hand out to you. “...Care to test how good of one you can be to me?” 

Alhaitham

“Y/N, Alhaitham is FAR from stupid. There’s no way he hasn’t figured out that you have a crush on him,”

“Shush!!” You swerve around to your friend, ducking a little, as if that would help you become invisible. “People could be listening, besides, if that’s true, then it’s even worse. It means that he knows, and probably has no interest in me, so let’s just forget about it, ok?” 

What he does:

..................................No he doesn’t know. Sure he’s smart but............he could be dense when it came to these things. That, or he just didn’t know what to do.

Does not confront you about it immediately. In fact he turns around and walks away without being spotted, opting to think about his next steps instead of just rushing into the conversation.

Lo and behold a few days later he’ll show up in front of you with his usual stoic expression.

“Y/N,” he starts, and you freeze on the spot, looking up at him, blinking. 

“Y-Yes?” You haven’t seen nor heard from him in days and as usual, you attributed it to him being busy. Little did you know that he had been mulling over how to talk to you.

“I heard your conversation with (your friend) the other day,” straightforward was his answer to everything, even in this particular situation. 

It takes you a few seconds to internalize his words. You’re not even sure which conversation he means. You talk to (your friend) a lot. Your brows start to furrow in confusion, until he clarifies. 

“...I wouldn’t say that I completely have no interest in you,” he starts, and your shoulders tense up, now realizing which conversation it was. You could feel your cheeks start to burn, all you wanted to do was run away. 

Alhaitham holds back a sigh, “...Anyway, here is no place to talk about this... I’ll meet you at Puspa Cafe tonight, if you’re free,” 

You’re FAR from stupid too, and knew exactly what he was trying to do.

Ayato

“Besides why would the Lord Commissioner even look at someone like me?” you hiss at your friend who was trying to persuade you that Ayato also had the hots for you. It just seemed a little delusional to you.

“He takes the chance to rile you up every time he sees you. He’s obviously doing it on purpose,” your friend counters. You roll your eyes up to high heaven.

“He does that to everyone...” you conclude, knowing that Ayato had the habit of--though you don’t know if intentionally--giving his servants a scare. 

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to be so jealous,” your friend quips back, you send them a quick glare before going back to doing your own work.

What he does:

Doesn’t even bat an eye. Smirks as he hears the whole story. 

Confidently reveals his presence to the two of you, chuckling.

“Jealousy doesn’t usually paint a beautiful colour,” he starts, the overly pleasant smile on his face. You straighten up immediately, eyes changing into saucers when you realize he had heard the whole thing. You open your mouth to explain, but he beats you to it.

“But I must say it looks a little different on you, Y/N, almost charming,” The side of his lip quirks up the slightest bit into a subtle grin. You bite your lip, there he is again trying to rile you up, maybe (your friend) was right. 

“...Is there anything I can do for you Lord Commissioner?” you ask, trying to stray away from the subject. He only chuckles. 

“You’ll find that there are a LOT of things you can do for me, Y/N. Start by accompanying me to tea, hm?” He wasn’t really asking, it was almost a command. 

You wished your friend snickering on the side would just shut up.

Cyno

“...He’s a little intimidating don’t you think? I don’t know why you like him so much,” your friend comments, slacking off on their pile of paperwork. You roll your eyes at them. 

“Maybe because he works hard, unlike other people,” you shake your head a little. 

“As General Mahamatra he’s supposed to work hard. Just admit that you have weird tastes.” your friend counters, still procrastinating on their share of work.

“Okay, so what if he’s a little vicious in his ways? He’s just doing his job. Now, it would help me if you started doing yours as well,” 

What he does:

Doesn’t know what to do.

Stands hidden for quite a long time. The subject has already moved on and away from him.

Torn between revealing himself now or later. 

Can’t think properly so exits from the situation and comes back later that same day, when you’re still working with your friend.

As he approaches your table, your friend notices him first. (Your friend) nudges you with their elbow, tilting their chin up to let you know that someone was approaching. 

You pick your head up, and feel yourself go rigid when you see that it’s Cyno. At first you think to yourself that he might not be here to talk to you, maybe he’s just about to walk by...but he stops in front of your table and you’re left to wordlessly look up at him.

There’s a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“...I value the high praise that you give me,” he starts and you immediately want to duck under the table and hide.

He heard. 

“O-Oh, G-General Mahamatra, you heard that...It’s...nothing, hard work deserves to be praised...” you avert your gaze down to the papers you were working on, pretending to continue and be busy with them. 

There was an awkward pause, your eyes darting up towards him for a second, checking if he was still looking at you, before breaking away again and furiously flipping through papers.

“...Do you want to play some TCG?” 

“Huh?” You end up with an incredulous look on your face, trying to gauge if he was serious. His face is still blank, but the usual tenseness in the way he carried himself gave way for a barely seen relaxation. It was hard to spot, but it was there. 

You ended up sighing a little in what you could only describe as relief, giving him a lopsided smile. “Sure, but go easy on me, I haven’t played in a while,”

“That’s fine. Perhaps a daily practice session will do you good,”

Dainsleif

“Mysterious, aloof, disappears into thin air... A man like that? You probably should stay away, Y/N. You don’t know what he dabbles in,” (Your friend) warns, looking at you with genuine concern. 

“Perhaps he has some secrets...but I don’t think he’s a bad guy at all. I’ve spent some time conversing with Dainsleif here and there,” you continue to wipe the tables, not noticing that the man you were talking about had long entered the tavern already and was now standing behind the two of you.

“At least he’s handsome, there’s that,” (Your friend) adds. 

“Sure, but that’s not the only reason I like him,” you laugh.

What he does:

Wonders if he heard the conversation right and overanalyzes what you mean by “like” him.

Either way it stirs a strange emotion in him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Prefers to get things over with and thinks there’s no harm in confronting you immediately.

You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Thinking that it was a customer you turn around with a pleasant smile, only for it to slowly dwindle down into a shocked expression.

Dainsleif.

“Y/N,” he nods his head towards you casually. You gulp, force a smile, and nod back. “Hi, you’re early today,” just as your friend slips away from the conversation. Dainsleif doesn’t even spare them a glance.

He doesn’t have much to say about your comment of him being early. He doesn’t particularly know why he was early today either. Perhaps...fate would have him hear the conversation between you and (Your friend).

“Yes, well, it looks like there were benefits to being early today,” he meets you eye to eye, the intensity in his gaze almost makes you blush from your neck all the way up to the top of your head, but you fought the giddiness back. 

“...What can I get you?” there’s a shiver that threatens to run up your spine, wondering if your deflection was successful. Dainsleif closes his eyes momentarily, before opening them with a strange sense of courage. 

“Your company,”

Diluc

“It’s been years,” (Your friend) says, the two of you looking up at the massive oak tree of Windrise. They glance at you from the side of their eye before continuing. “Are you still in love with Diluc?”

There’s a breeze that passes, almost melancholic, and partly whispered of sorrow. “...I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.” You pick your hand up to rub at your arm. “Jean, Kaeya, Diluc and I...So many things have changed since we were kids...but I don’t think that spot for Diluc will ever go away,”

“Does he know, at least?” (Your friend) asks and you half scoff. 

“I’m not sure, I get the feeling he does, but doesn’t act on it. Which is why...maybe the only way to solve this emptiness is to leave Mondstadt altogether.” 

“Out of sight, out of mind huh?” (Your friend) claps your back, and turns around to start walking away with you.

What he does:

Internally a mess of emotions. Doesn’t know where to start. 

but he’s just standing there and he’s stuck watching (your friend) and you turn around to come face to face with him. 

He looks at you, a wave of memories and emotions flashing through his mind all at once, it almost overwhelms him. 

“D-Diluc,” you stutter, heart freezing in your chest. You see him take a steadying breath in, prying his gaze away from you and over to (Your friend).

“(Your friend), could you give us a minute?” he asks. (Your friend) obliges, passing you a quick glance before going ahead on their own. Another breeze runs by, ruffling his long red hair. 

“...I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” you start, and yet he doesn’t say anything, prompting you to continue talking. “...You don’t have to think about it too much, it’s just silly--”

“I wasn’t sure,” he cuts you off, eyes drawn to the ground now. “I wasn’t sure...if you really felt that way.” 

The statement somehow exasperates you. “You weren’t sure? All those times I stayed by your side when everyone else left--” then it hits you. “Or were you scared, Diluc?”

The quick grimace in his expression tells you the answer. His reply comes a few seconds later, “I was, I still am,” but he picks his head up, and finally looks you straight in the eye. “...but this time...” his fists clench on his side. “This time give me the chance to show you how much I really care about you,”

He was not going to lose you too.

Itto

“Seriously?! Itto? Arataki Itto? Are you for real?” (Your friend) announces to nearly half of the food stall, the other customers swerving around to look at the two of you. 

"Oh, say it a bit louder why don’t you?” You roll your eyes at your friend and continue eating.”

“Sorry. I just--Out of all the people you could choose, your huge crush is on that big brute??” your can tell by the look on your friend’s face that they think you have weird tastes.

What he does:

Butts in without even thinking of the conversation. Has no clue what’s going on.

“Crush?!”

You and your friend startle, swerving around to see none other than the oni with his hands on his hips. “Y/N?! You planning on crushing me?!” then he guffaws with laughter, slapping his knees in the process. “Yeah right, you’re no match for me!”

Your previously gaped open mouth slowly closes and your shoulders relax, sighing. You’re a little disappointed he doesn’t get it at all. Your friend shakes their head with a long sigh. “You stupid oaf, we don’t mean it that way...” 

Itto’s head tilts sideways, a genuinely confused look on his face. “No? Then... Watcha all talkin about?” 

You grab your friend’s arm and pull them forward the slightest bit. “It’s not important! Actually, we better get going--”

“Y/N has a CRUSH on you, idiot! Y/N LIKES you!” Your friend explodes, patience long gone. 

Itto blinks at the confession, his eyes darts towards you, “...Oh,” then there’s the slight tugging at his chest, he can’t help but beam and smile silly. “Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself Y/N! I like you too!”

You’re not sure if he really understood the confession in its entirety. 

Kaeya

“It’s all just fun and games with Kaeya. It doesn’t mean anything,” you laugh sheepishly, yet you rub the back of your neck a little.

“...Do you want it to be just fun and games?” your friend chides, and there’s a moment of silence. The two of you just sitting there already knowing the answer, it’s almost uncomfortable, until your friend sighs. 

“...Let’s change the subject,” 

What he does: 

responds immediately. Will not wait a second longer to come out of his hiding place and ask about what he just heard.

“How about let’s not?” Kaeya emerges out of nowhere, slipping into the seat next to you at the cafe. His poise is confident and instantly his head lazily places itself into the palm of his hand, gaze lingering at you. 

“Snowflake, I had no idea you felt like that,” his voice is smooth like ice and you bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.

“...I didn’t say anything though?” you countered, trying to evade the conversation. Your friend watches on with interest. 

“Silence speaks volumes, Y/N,” Kaeya scoots even closer to you, your shoulders touching each other. However, he maneuvers his arm around to lay on the seat behind you. “So if you’re opposed to what I’m about to do, better speak up,”

He leans closer, inch by inch, he waits for you to say something.

You stay silent.

He grins.

Scaramouche

“Hat guy? He’s brutal. But who am I to comment on your tastes, Y/N. You’ve always been weird,” (Your friend) chides, watching as you go over the bookshelf again. 

“Stop calling him that,” You murmur under your breath, more focused on finding the right book for your research. “That’s not his only distinctive feature, you know,” you continue, still engrossed in looking for a book.

“Oh? What else are his “distinctive features”?” (Your friend) drawls, rolling their eyes. 

You hum a little, then plop on the ground cross-legged, wanting to get a better look on the last row of books of the Akademiya’s library. “...His eyes,” you simply answer. “They’re a beautiful shade of violet-blue...He’s always glaring at someone half of the time but he actually has very pretty eyes,” 

There’s silence and you finally get the peace you need to concentrate. However, that silence is broken by a voice that you know all too well.

What he does:

is amused.

thinks its cute pathetic.

will still look angry but will have a hard time actually being angry.

will be cocky.

“My eyes, huh?”

It’s hard to completely turn around in your sitting position, so you do the best you can to turn, side eye landing on Scaramouche’s form. He has his arms crossed as usual, but there’s a smug smirk on his face. “Didn’t know it was that fascinating to you, bookeater,”

It was supposed to be an insulting nickname for you, who always had your nose in a book, but you took no offense to it at all.

You didn’t know what to say, so you continued staring at him. He being the anti-social person that he was, just stared back. There was a big gap of silence before he felt that it was becoming too awkward. 

“...What’re you looking for?” he blurted out.

“...A book...”

“Are you stupid? Of course you’re looking for a book. I meant what’s the title?” There his usual sneer was back again and he unfolded his arms to look at you unimpressively. 

“...A History of Inazuma: Volume 2...” you meekly replied, slowly realizing that he actually heard you praising him.

“You’re in the wrong section,” the exasperated sigh he gives out causes you to wince, and you turn away back to the bookshelf as if to shield you from all this embarrassment. 

“If it’s about Inazuma, you should just be asking me,” you blink as your peripheral catches sight of an outstretched hand. You tilt your head to see that he’s offering his hand, but his face is blank.

“...Well? Come on. I don’t have all day,”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling, something about the way he said it sounds threatening, but also slightly playful. But that’s just the way he was. 

You accept his hand, and he pulls you up easily.

Xiao

“Oh so that’s why you’re coming over more frequently...” (Your friend) grins, and you wave your hands around to tell them to quiet down. Adepti had good hearing after all.

“Well, I’m also coming over cause Verr Goldet needs more help these days in the kitchen. You guys are getting so much customers these days that Yanxiao has a hard time by himself,”

“Uhhuuhhhhhh, sure...was it also Verr Goldet who told you to try and master the Almond Tofu recipe from Yanxiao? Cause you’re awfully hell bent on trying to learn that recipe, according to Yanxiao,” 

You fall silent, feeling heat crawling up your neck. “I--” You start, searching for an excuse, but realized there was no escaping this one. “I just want to do something nice for Xiao, that’s all,” you innocently quip. “I...I know I can’t help him much, but maybe just cooking his favourite dish will help, even a little,”

(Your friend) smiles a little, knowing that the adepti probably heard everything. “That’s nice of you, Y/N. You must care about him a lot,” 

What he does:

once upon a time he would do absolutely nothing. because getting involved with humans is something he shouldn’t do.

But now he bides his time, and observes if it’s safe to open up. 

He wouldn’t outright thank you at first, but he’ll slowly show up in front of you a little more everyday.

He’s rather awkward, so at first he only nods his head as thanks when you leave the bowl of almond tofu on the ledge.

Eventually when he realizes you’re not going to stop cooking for him he goes the extra mile to do something simple for you too.

He places a stalk of your favourite flower on the ledge, right before you come to put down his bowl of almond tofu. 

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Check it out here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BVD1VVFP

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Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

[worldlxvlys]

complicated (part 3)

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttt, semi-public sex (kinda ? is it?), oral (fem receiving), degradation, choking, rough sex, spanking, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, squirting, cursing

a/n: previous part

when i woke up the next morning, my throat was practically screaming at me for water.

i had on one of chris’s shirts, which was long enough on me to get away with not wearing any pants.

i gently removed chris’s arm from my waist, careful not to wake him up, before getting out of bed.

i made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water.

suddenly, i heard a voice from behind me, making me jump.

“you guys were pretty loud last night” matt said.

my eyes widened at him, mouth hanging open as i blinked at him. i didn’t even know how to respond.

“so, i take it it was good then?” he said as he crossed his arms.

i narrowed my eyes at him, confused as to why he was asking about my experience with his brother in bed.

“it was nice, he was really sweet” i nodded at him.

“sweet? i thought you liked it rough” he tilted his head at me.

my eyes widened at that, my heart speeding up at his words.

yes, we’d talked about our kinks and the things we liked in bed. it happened to come up in one of our late night conversations, i just assumed he’d forgotten about the lewd things we talked about in our sleep deprived state.

clearly, i was wrong.

“you said you liked to be degraded and thrown around” he said as he made his way over to me.

“he do any of that?” matt asked.

“no” i whispered.

“guess i’ll have to, then” he spoke as he turned me around, pushing my front half to rest on the island in front of us.

he got on his knees behind me, pulling my panties down.

“matt, we- right here?” i asked in shock.

he ran his fingers through my folds, making me bite my lip to suppress my moans.

“nick just went to bed a few hours ago, he won’t be up any time soon” he spoke as he played with my pussy.

“w-what about chris?” i asked, struggling to contain the noises i wanted to let out.

“let him walk in, i want him to see the way you like to be fucked” i moaned in response, my hand flying to my mouth as it echoed through the room.

“like a fucking whore” he spoke before diving into my pussy.

i folded my arms on the island, resting my head on them as i tried my best to muffle my moans with my hand.

his tongue lapped at my wetness, the sounds of his lips smacking against each other and his mouth slurping my arousal echoing through the kitchen.

“f-fuck, matt! ohhh my god” my voice wavered as i tried my hardest not to yell.

he gave my ass a slap, making me let out a low moan.

i pushed my ass further into his face, making him groan against my pussy.

he pushed his tongue into my soaked entrance, fucking his tongue into me.

i gripped onto the edges of the table, pressing my forehead into it as my legs began to shake.

matt’s fingers dug into my thighs, his grip bruising.

“i’m close, matt” i moaned out.

“yeah? cum on my face like the dirty girl you are” he spoke against me.

i rocked my hips back into his face, practically riding it as one of his fingers began to circle my clit.

“matt, i’m-” i cut myself off with a moan as my orgasm hit me unexpectedly. i released all over his face, coating it in my pleasure.

when my legs began to give out, matt picked me up bridal style, carrying me to his room.

he closed the door behind us, and placed me down onto his bed.

i pulled my shirt off, throwing it to the side as he mirrored my actions.

i was left bare in front of him and he was left in his boxers.

“beautiful” he whispered as he brought my lips to his in a bruising kiss. his lips danced against mine as his hands wrapped around my waist.

suddenly, he flipped me over, pushing me down onto my stomach.

“tell me, you like being fucked by me and chris, not even a full day apart?” he asked as he pulled down his boxers.

“matt-” he left a harsh slap to my ass, making me let out a low moan.

“you were louder last night, am i not making you feel good?” he asked, slapping my ass again.

“you are! you are! please, matt!” i screamed.

“you sure? cause you were moaning like a little bitch last night” another slap.

“you didn’t answer me, ma” another slap.

“i- what was the question?” i asked as he slapped me again.

“haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already acting dumb?” another slap.

he rubbed his hand against the irritated skin, soothing it.

“you want my cock?” he asked as tears began to form in my eyes. “fucking beg for it” he spoke.

“please, please, please. i need it so bad, matt. so fucking bad, please fuck me” i babbled, my brain going fuzzy at the thought of him buried inside of me.

without warning, he entered me from behind, making me cry out.

“fuck, matt! holy shit” i wailed as he thrusted into me harshly.

“still want this?” he asked as he plowed into me, holding my arms behind my back.

“yes, please! don’t fucking stop” i whined in response.

he leaned forward so that his body was flush against mine, wrapping his tatted arm around my neck.

“yes, yes, yes, holy fuck matt “ i chanted as my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

“he make you feel like this?” he asked as he bit my ear lobe.

i was losing my grip on reality, in my own little world due to the amount of pleasure i was feeling.

he squeezed his arm around my neck, choking me while he bit my ear lobe harder.

“answer me” he rasped into my ear.

“i-i mean, he made me feel good but-” every ounce of sense i had left in my brain was gone, i could barely even answer a simple question logically.

“that’s not what i asked” he said. “answer my question, or you don’t get to cum”

“no! no, he didn’t” his hips slammed against mine as he continued to fuck me into the bed.

“who makes you feel like this baby?” he asked.

“no one, just you” i groaned out.

“louder”

“just you, matt”

“fucking scream it”

“just you, matt. no one else makes me feel like this” i yelled, tears streaming down my face.

“please, i’m gonna cum! please let me cum!” i cried out.

“go ahead, i’m right behind you”

my toes curled as my face scrunched up in pleasure. my mouth hung open, but no sound came out as i squirted, my juices shooting onto the sheets.

i shook and twitched as matt shot his load into me, letting out low groans.

after a few minutes of just laying there, matt pulled out, kissing my shoulder.

“you ok?” he whispered as i turned onto my back.

“yeah, that was fucking insane. holy shit” i spoke as i continued to catch my breath. “sorry about your sheets”

“are you kidding? that was a hundred percent worth it” he grinned at me.

“stay here, let me go run a bath” he spoke before kissing my cheek.

once the water finished running, we got into the bath, and helped wash each other off.

he gave me a massage, helping my aching muscles to relax, and placing kisses all over my shoulders and back.

he whispered soft praises in my ear, reminding me how much he loved me and how good i did for him.

once we finished, we dried off and he dressed me in a clean pair of his clothes.

“want something to eat?” he asked when we were ready.

“yeah” i answered.

matt helped me to the kitchen, as i was limping due to the soreness between my legs.

when we got there, we found chris standing by the fridge.

the three of us all looked back and forth between each other, not knowing what to say.

suddenly, chris broke the silence, “well you just got your shit rocked, huh?” he spoke.

after just staring at each other for a minute, the three of us bursted out laughing.

🌀🌀🌀🌀

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

[scuderiasundays]

the one where the stars aligned

summary: 3 am flashbacks to packed pizzerias, comfortable silences, and post-race kisses + a little insta au at the end 💌

words: 871

a/n: writing fics is my form of self care. i’m seeing a lot of lando love so i thought i’d whip something up! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega , @monzabee, @ssainzz, @holllandtrash, and @diorleclerc just because. feedback appreciated as always. hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

"Come on, put down the melatonin gummies and lend a hand," Lando's voice beckoned, as he motioned for you to join him. It was Lando's brilliant idea to start building shelves for his prized helmet collection at the ungodly hour of 3 AM. Despite feeling drained from a full day of traveling, jet lag refused to let either of you rest. As you took in the sights of Monaco in the dark, your mind couldn't help but picture everyone sound asleep in their beds—a stark contrast to the state you and Lando were in, blasting Burna Boy and diving headfirst into a DIY date night.

You plopped down beside him, and he handed over some screws and posts. To be honest, you had no clue what you were doing, so you just sat there, watching your boyfriend hum along and niftily arrange the pieces. There was a particular air about Lando when he was focused: his slightly creased forehead, furrowed eyebrow, and bitten lip. He caught you midthought and playfully said, "Less staring, more doing," as he handed you the instruction manual.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation or the fact that your two-year anniversary was coming up, but you found your mind aimlessly wandering. Lando had entered your life at a time when you least expected it. It all began on an evening out in London, which your friends now playfully referred to as "The One Where the Stars Aligned."

You had found yourselves scrambling for a last-minute table at a quaint pizzeria one of you had discovered on TikTok. The restaurant, a charming hole-in-the-wall, was filled to the brim with lively conversation and the aroma of freshly baked pizza. Your waiter hastily directed you to a 10-person table at the heart of the bustling scene, disappearing before any of you could say a word. The long table was already occupied by a few guys who looked to be your age. Reluctant but ravenous, you found yourself settling beside one of them. Throughout the night, you and your mystery man talked nonstop, effortlessly volleying back and forth. The rest, as they say, was history.

There were countless reasons you loved your boyfriend, but a few things really stood out. Lando's attentiveness was unmatched. If a conversation made you uneasy, he would pick up on it and hurry to your side, ready to rescue you from any situation. If he noticed a Netflix show had you on the verge of tears, he would edge closer to you on the couch and quietly slide over a box of tissues. If you were lost for words to congratulate him on an impressive drive, he would kiss you simply to shut you up.

Even though Lando's job required him to exude confidence and poise in public, behind closed doors, he was just as much of an introvert as you. Whether sitting side by side in his driver's room, with him editing photos and you buried in a book, there was an ease to the silence that never felt uncomfortable. It was your way of recharging your social batteries, soaking up each other's presence without the need for constant conversation.

You had also grown to love the people Lando surrounded himself with. He was big on quality time and always sought to spend as much of it with you as possible. Initially unsure if his friends would appreciate your constantly hanging around, you were pleasantly surprised when they warmly embraced you into their circle. "I'm just glad he's found someone else to bother instead of P and me," Max jokingly said during a double date at the driving range.

Your bond with Flo had also grown stronger, as you joined her for one-on-one horse-riding lessons at the stables. She would share stories about little Lando, granting you intimate glimpses into his past that, without him knowing, made you love him even more.

Lando went above and beyond to introduce you to the other drivers too. You often third-wheeled on Carlando outings, intervening when they bickered like an old couple. On some nights, he’d arrange actual double dates with Carmen and George, the three of you trying but always failing to convince Lando to try some sushi.

You were the first person he FaceTimed when Daniel had confided he’d be back on the grid sooner than expected. “If this leaks, I’ll know who to hunt down,” he giggled while munching a chicken quinoa wrap, his staple pre-race meal.

Lost in reverie, you hadn’t even realized you’d zoned out until Lando waved his hands frantically in front of you, snapping you back to reality. The shelves were now magically built, showcasing the colorful helmets he’d raced in and swapped over the years.

“What were you thinking about, babe?” He asked as he stepped back to double check that the shelves were even.

“Just how much I love you,” you replied as you gave him a peck on the cheek.

If you could be anywhere in the world, you’d still choose to be right there with him, watching the sunrise paint your apartment the warmest shade of orange. You closed your eyes and silently prayed that you and Lando would always be this close, forever and ever.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by ciscanorris1, alex_albon, and 41,113 others

landonorris: a few of my favorite thingssss

yourusername: not even pressed danny ranks higher than me! he’s back like he never left 🙌🏼

danielricciardo: bisous

landonorris: nobody compares to you, baby!!

flonorris1: don’t have too much fun without me, lovebirds 🧡

heidiberger_: what a flight! let @yourusername and i know if anyone wants to join our “my boyfriend has a distinctive laugh” club

yourusername: more like the “i couldn’t get any sleep because my boyfriend kept cackling” club 🫠

fan2: the wags are spilling tea and i ADORE them

barbiethemovie: she’s everything. he’s just ken.

mclaren: in lando we trust 🫡

[thenewrises]

have more sleep deprived rambles about a vn (MDNI 18+)

so, with exploring dark romance vns i have been going through itch.io and discovered The Kid at The Back! i have so far enjoyed the plot and am excited to see where things will go, i adore the art style and of course… i am an emo lover. so! the author of the vn does not plan on spoiling anything as to keep us guessing on the lore but i thought i can at least compile everything we know so far in one place where i can update!

the author has also said they are not confirming theories or anything, so this is all food for thought rather than searching for confirmation. i just enjoy compiling info and sharing it so others who may enjoy lore can have something to read off from :)

tw: mentions of abuse, bullying, and violence

day 1 info

1. sol does not like hands on his neck. most likely something to do with his past or something, possibly an altercation with family since it seems he does not like “talking about his past” or his family

2. some sort of event in the past where sol met the mc. i think it was from childhood but i could not say the exact timing. but whatever it was, it made sol so dedicated to the mc that he literally thinks they are soulmates. some guesses: maybe we saved him from a bully in the past? maybe we stood up for him when no one else did? we shall find out!

3. sol always wears a necklace with a key on it, i’ve been wracking my brain to figure out where the key could go to. some guesses: our apartment, a box of something (maybe we gave him something he keeps locked up), a secret room where he keeps our things or something dedicated to us (since we know he does take stuff from us as momentos… like ok sol)

4. sol seems to come from a very well-off family to the point of bullying. he also probably get bullied for his style, but i think it also has to maybe do with family reputation. maybe the family is well-known in some area of the upper class/1%, or maybe the family is infamous for not great things/investments. we’ll learn as we go, but i can at least say with confidence that man has money

5. he does not like bruising on his face, becomes extremely insecure about it and even possibly humiliated. sad to say, i believe he may have experienced possible intense abuse from his family along with bullying. he has low self confidence or low sense of self, i think he thrives on being reassured. he is easily jealous and possessive (which is also a yandere trend) but i think it has to do with years of being overlooked, hurt, and ridiculed

conclusion and other sillies:

i think as days get released, i’ll add onto this or confirm anything we learn. i do believe crowe is the second love interest, which makes the most sense. i think crowe may have some unfinished conflict with sol or his family, but that’s more just a possibility i think about. crowe seems normal but idk… i also have some suspicions but what do i know!

i look forward to day 2/3 release, but remember to be patient! the author i’m sure is working hard, so let’s all patiently wait together and enjoy any side content we receive as we wait.

also fun side note, sol and i have some of the same piercings which was so funny to me (one of his ears has a double helix and three ear lobe piercings… like me…. goofy)

[snaileer]

Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3

Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)

The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.

He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, “Oh feel free to continue arguing my morality like I’m an object, my music’s on full volume.”

Dick looked uncomfortable, “We weren’t-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why you’re…. here,” Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if they’d share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.

“Surely the world could have done without a second Drake,” Damian cut in before Danny could even start.

“And we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,” Danny glared, “Factory defects and all.”

Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.

Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Tim’s phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, “I have a list, if you want it.”

He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.

To Do in Gotham:

1. Get to Gotham

2. Find original - don’t freak family out

3. -Find- Talk to Bruce

4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox

5. Get safe house

6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)

7.

8.

9. Leave?

“What’s number seven and eight?” Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didn’t change.

“Don’t know yet,” He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didn’t believe him.

Didn’t matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.

Bat guilty.

About time he believed him about something.

And Danny didn’t care about Damian’s opinions one way or another.

He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, “Welp that’s it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I don’t think Vicki will accept my ‘you got new legs Lieutenant Dan-ny’ joke, all that,”

Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, “All’s well in Clone Town!”

Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.

Number 7: Find Ra’s Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.

Number 8: Stabilize yourself.

Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.

—

Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jeweler’s store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.

He was making Tim’s life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.

Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.

Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.

He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.

The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Tim’s by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.

Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.

“You could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?”

Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.

“Thought it was best to stay out of sight. We’re not exactly a daylight hero.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “Already annoyed with Vicki Vale?”

Tim nearly growled, “That is your fault,”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it’s not hilarious.”

“You’ve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!”

“Lucius can handle them. It’s not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.”

Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.

Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Fine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?”

“Yes.”

“I am not staying in the manor. You can’t make me.”

Dread filled him as Tim smiled, “Not a problem.”

Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, “This is so not what I meant and you know it.”

Tim’s face betrayed nothing, “Look, none of us are happy with this situation-“

Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.

“But..” Tim continued with a pointed look, “It’s my fault, and I get that. So…compromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when I’m done, we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”

Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.

“Fine.”

Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, “Ok, here’s my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- I’ll take this,” he plucks the phone from Danny’s hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Danny’s glare, “Thank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy who…”

Tim’s voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.

Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Danny’s suit still didn’t have.

Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.

Danny slouched further into the silence.

It felt like being left behind by his parents.

They had bigger priorities.

Archaeology.

Ghosts.

Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.

He’s nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.

The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.

The officer assigned to the case is a vet.

The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.

The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.

The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.

Best of all?

It’s not in Gotham.

Danny smiles as Ted Tobin’s plan fills in, piece by piece.

—

Ra’s Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.

Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officer’s life the night before his case-closing arrest?

—

“Detective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,” Ra’s’ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, “It seems I was wrong.”

“Oh well, you know me…,” The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, “Always butting into things when I shouldn’t. It’s kind of what we do.”

“Tell me, Timothy,” Ra’s says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, “What does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-“ Ra’s pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.

“Well, we’ll start there. First of all, as I’m sure you just found out, I’m not Timothy,” Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Ra’s gives him as he turns around. “And secondly, the officer wasn’t what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.” Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.

Ra’s al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?”

“You are curious. So much like the detective, and yet… my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.”

Danny scoffs, “Oh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.”

Ra’s’ stare doesn’t change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.

“You wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Ra’s?” Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. “The difference between me and him,” When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, “Is that I’m stronger.”

—

Bonus Scene:

Dick stared at Tim’s clone as he left, sweeping past the original’s bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.

“Are we sure he’s Drake’s clone? He seems… less of a fool,” Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.

He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.

Damian turned back to his breakfast, “I retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.”

[diejager]

hi i love your work so much omg

…what do you think of the scenario of monster!141 x (platonic, if you want, it’s probably for the better) reader that’s made up of thousands of worms/spiders/or whatever creatures. reader is always covered up in clothes that cover up the entire ‘skin’ and they speak extremely weirdly/like everything’s speaking all at once and the voice is just sounding from the mouth but also in the torso? and legs? . the thing is that reader is shy or something and doesn’t want to admit that they’re just a hive mind of creatures, but it’s just kinda obvious not really (well obvious to monster 141). 141 doesn’t really want to comment on it because they’re just nice like that and find ways to help Reader get through some situations lmao (help i’m sleep deprived and i made this thought in 3 AM ish).

i give you a piece of 🧀

Many

Pairing: Platonic Monster 141 + König & Horangi x monster!reader

Cw: spiders, blood, military inaccuracies, canon-typical violence, cannibalism? Eating human, hive mind monster, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.9k (A/N): I’m gonna be honest with y’a, I went on a spree and completely forgot what you first asked for but uh… I used some of your ideas and I hope it’s apparent enough?

For someone as decorated as you were, you were awfully timid, shying from human and hybrid interaction like a plague. Perhaps it was unintentional, the stiffness in your shoulders or the constant coverage, but to the world around you, you were nothing but an awkward person whose social cues were lost to time after more than a decade in the force. Starting your days covered head to toe, black over more black, or khaki and brown over more khaki and brown depending on the situation of your stay and deployment. 

Despite your social anxiety, your voice stayed strong and unwavering in the field, a cold, monotone voice that would coordinate the team if needed —you were a prolific intelligence specialist, that found your calling in intelligence gathering from the deepest and darkest pits, and an infiltration specialist that was sought out for your proficiency and successful operations worldwide, especially the undercover Ops done in secrecy. You’ve led a few clandestine Ops with Laswell for 141, the Station Chief letting you lead and direct them, trusting your insights and they always resulted in successful missions, coming back bruised and battered but alive and securing the cargo (or whatever they were sent there for). 

That meant that they knew you, your voice, your confident tone when you directed them, your unwavering decisions and your helpful guidance, but they hadn’t seen you until a few months ago. You were officially assigned to Task Force 141 as their Intelligence and Infiltration specialist, working on and off. This would be the first time you actively moved to the front, standing beside them during infiltrations, slipping into the enemy base with efficiency and silence. You moved as if you were a part of the shadows, melting into the darkness and disappearing from any camera and scans, your body invincible to infrared cameras or heat sensors. 

You moved with fluid motions, your body incredibly - scarily - flexible and seemingly aware of everything around you. To humans, you were probably the most skillful and abnormal human, born with talents that far rivalled those of hybrids, and a saviour to some for being able to keep them alive even through the hardest moments of their capture; but to monsters, to hybrids, you were special, a different type of creature that held a different category in the classes, one that humans knew little outside of the government and military. 

Whereas humans saw you as a stiff and socially awkward human that covered their whole body, TF141 knew better, they could sense it a mile away, the difference in you, the odd aura and smell you projected. Soap and König had mentioned it in the past, in the bustling Mess hall where they shared a table, Soap had noted that you smelled off, of something dead yet alive and König only brought the oddness of you holding thousands of different scents, musks that didn’t originate from one place, but from around the world. 

Gaz and Horangi gave off-handed comments about sudden movement under your clothes, a slight - near invisible - ripple under your neck or on your arm, their eyes zoning to the smallest of movements. Gaz brought it up first, his voice hesitant and confused, frowning down at his plate when he mentioned it to the others, only to feel reassured that he wasn’t imagining it, the small ripple that no one else perceived, when Horangi shared his own observations. Horangi had seen small black spots moving over your shirt and under the tight mask hiding your face, tiny-legged creatures climbing over you and vanishing under your clothes as if they were never there. 

Rudy was the best at understanding people, sympathising with both monsters and humans, but you just seemed lost, a shy creature that always hid from others when you weren’t needed. He and Alejandro remembered when they spoke to you after an Op, catching up to you before you fled to hide in your room, your tone was soft and shy, but it seemed to come from everywhere, never staying in one place as if there wasn’t a source to your voice. One moment your voice would come from your face, and then the next, it’d be down your abdomen, every word you spoke came out of a different area, but your chin never moved, face still and unmoving. 

They brought it up to Ghost, who’d sit with them at their table, pushed against the wall for privacy around human soldiers, since he - leaving out Price - knew you best, having worked with you a few times in the past where they needed your expertise in infiltration and hostage securing. They had hoped that Ghost could give them a few insights on you, whether it be about your kind or your uniqueness, they wanted something - anything - to quell their growing curiosity. Not only was Ghost one of their only sources of information, but he was also a paranoid one, always demanding an operator's file before and after they joined, his mind going through loops to calculate the danger of the new addition. Ghost was a guarded and walled-up character, ensuring that they wouldn’t betray him in the long run.

Unfortunately, Ghost knew as little as they did, Price was stricter with your information, keeping it under a hard lock and key. Only he and Laswell held information about you, your little quirks and details were a secret to anyone who wasn’t in the higher-ranked stations or the commanding rank and station chief. They had nothing to go on but theories, little hypothesis until Price or Laswell - whichever caved first to their incessant pleading - disclosed your personal file. So they did what they could with their observations, combining up with different monsters they’ve crossed paths with. You could’ve been one of those crossbred hybrids where they coupled for specific perks, or an experiment, seeing that you had an aversion to physical touch and human interactions. The least possible one, by far, was that you were an Eldritch being, a creature of horror and madness. 

“Classified for now, sergeant,” was all Price had told Soap when he cracked, his puppy-like excitement getting the best of him. “You’ll have to ask them, yeah?”

That left them with little to no choice but to watch you more closely, to observe their surroundings for any clues and to note anything bizarre since they couldn’t necessarily outright ask you. You fled seconds after anyone tried to start a conversation, head down and feet moving too swiftly to not seem like you were avoiding them or any long discussion as if you knew what they were planning. You seemed to have eyes at the back of your head, reacting instantly when one of them would follow you wherever you went, slinking from one shadow to the other, trying their best to hide from your sight and sense, but you were an expert in your own right, knowing and aware of undercover tactics when one was used against you.

Fortunately for them, other clues helped, subtle signs that most people wouldn’t even catch. The first one was small, jerky spiders that weren’t local to the UK or any continent, they weren’t like any arachnid they’d ever found, that was the first thing they noticed when they came across one, but the true challenge was to catch one of those pesky things. They were quick and small, evading them as if they had a mind of their own, their bites painful if one of them tried to grab it with a hand, the tiny fangs piercing through the thick material of their gloves, but once Soap got his paws on one, he made sure to keep it in the glass container. The spider was small, its exoskeleton so dark that it seemed to swallow any light rather than reflect it, a shade of black so black that it didn’t let any colours out. It didn’t look hairy, the shell so smooth and spotless that it seemed like two circles if they ignored the scrawny legs. 

Those spiders were almost everywhere, yet they went unnoticed by the people walking around the base and them until now. Other than the spiders, your aversion to physical contact and socialising, and favouring your privacy much more than anyone on the TF. You didn’t eat with them —you never seemed to eat at all. Your voice moved so often that the possibility of you having many mouths came to mind a lot. Your body was extremely nimble, bending in odd - sometimes painful for others - ways. Over other observations, everything they took notice of you were things that were inhuman, it made you a minority in the military - much like them - and a mystery to your team. 

They went on for months, unbothered that they might have seemed slightly obsessive, a stalker following his obsession. They weren’t worried about others calling them out, humans would chalk it up to monster stuff with a sneer and look the other way when Ghost or König glared at them. That didn’t escape you, Price or even Laswell’s eyes and ears around the world. 

“You boys don’t know when to stop, hmm?” Price wore a frown, brows cocked questioningly. His tone was one of a tired and relenting to their months-long search. “You’re lucky they weren’t mad about this.”

“So you’ll tell us, boss?” Ghost hid his excitement better than the rest, his chest rumbling lowly and eyes narrowed darkly, but not with a dangerous gleam. 

“Better if you see it yourself,” he sighed, crossing his arms, hunching against his chair, lip quirking at a corner. It was a cheeky lopsided smile, teasing them with having to wait longer. “It’s hard to explain in words. It’s quite the sight.”

And a sight it was! Watching you melt to the ground, your body scattering in thousands of small spiders that moved towards the body lying before you. You’d been paired with Ghost and Soap for this Op, leading them down a path you knew didn’t have any hostiles, getting intel back from the many spiders scattered around the area. They were the first to watch you eat, arachnids swallowing up the bodies, devouring them at record speed. You ate flesh and bones, ligaments and tendons melted by your acidic bite that only left clothes behind as an indication that someone died here. They were the lucky ones to see you eat, to bear witness to your monstrosity in the flesh and your moment of weakness where you had to sustain yourself, shedding off the shape of a human body.

It left Soap filled with awe, seeing you break away in thousands of individual bodies and come back together as one, and Ghost’s mind strewed with questions, some answered when you told them that you were self-conscious, a hive mind made up of spiders to form a body. You weren’t hiding away because you were afraid of them or that you hated socialising, you were simply too self-aware of your making, of the natural fear of eight-legged creatures. So you hid, shying away from people, thinking that they’d hate you for being what you were, a colony of undocumented spiders working as one. 

Horangi, Rudy and Alejandro caught you in action on the second covert operation when you were given the signal to lead your small squad into enemy lines. They watched the clothes you wore ripple, little critters bulging out from under your protective gear and rolling down your body in waves, black masses dropping off and separating. You were spread around the place, everyone acting as an extension of your mind and body, and they were —thousands of spiders sharing one mind. You shrank lightly, your body mass lower than it was with your body spanned across the area, working as your eyes and ears from afar like cameras worked for Laswell, except that your reach was farther and more potent. 

It was expected, but not less surprising to the three, watching your body shorten and little spiders crawl all over you. It would’ve made the hardiest monster shudder in fear or repulsion, feeling hundreds of legs moving about over their body, it would’ve made them slightly apprehensive, knowing from Soap and Ghost that your bite could be acidic, melting tough muscle and robust bone. It made more sense as to why you were so nimble and so observant, you had parts of yourself scattered around, working to map out everything and see everything. You were what made you so sought after for your skills in clandestine missions and covert infiltrations, it was scarily inspiring.

Gaz and König were the unlucky ones, being in the wrong place at the wrong time to see you “die”. With how unlucky his streak with helicopters was, it wasn’t a surprise that he was falling from another one, his wing bleeding from a bullet wound, the copper piercing through the meat and grazing the bone. It had him handicapped for the next few missions, staying on base until it healed completely unless he wanted to cause a bigger issue with his third pair of limbs. You were medevaced, watching Gaz grunt and groan, holding his wounded wing against his chest with a face screwed in pain. He’d been in an unfortunate situation, being purposely targeted by the enemy, and the situation couldn’t get any worse. 

The helicopter was shot down, and the flares deployed too late to stop the missile. It was a fiery mess, there was screaming and the loud crack of metal breaking, you could hear Laswell yell out in the coms, her worried and frantic voice trying to reach you and Gaz in the falling blaze. Most harpies feared fire, the flames burning their feathers and scarring the skin, making it impossible to regrow feathers on some rare occurrences. Gaz couldn’t remember much after the fall, waking up in pitch darkness, his skin crawling with shivers and invisible hands. He couldn’t make out left from right, he didn’t know if he was lying face down or on his back, and he wasn’t even sure he was conscious, seeing that all he could see was black. Then he felt sudden movement, a prickly sensation covering his body until light broke through.

He could feel his arms and his legs, he could stretch his wing out when he sat up, he wasn’t burned or hurt more than what he had before the crash, but he couldn’t see you when he looked around. He palmed the ground, feeling around the rough floor for you, your small, black spiders. You were on and around him, slowly climbing off him and flocking to a large mass. Your clothes were gone, burned to ashes in the mess while you shielded him, taking the brunt of the heat and burns. He swallowed down the quake that wracked his body and rushed to you, frantic to see whether or not you were in pain. Rather than forming back into a human, your appearance resembles more of a large mammal on four, clawed legs. Seeing that you were fine - or so he thought - he called back for evac, getting cover with your prone figure guarding him until the other helicopter and support came back.

König’s accident was more vicious than Gaz’s, losing control of his urges, letting himself shift and rampage through the area, ripping apart both enemy and ally. You were another body in his path, his claws tearing through your chest with sharp, bloodied hands. The others panicked, watching you scatter into pieces, falling apart from the seams as if someone had pulled out the only string that held you together. Instead of blood and guts, intestines that should’ve called out in a bloody mess, you broke apart, some fell to the ground, crushed under König’s weight, and others clung to him, swarming to stop him before he caused more chaos. 

It looked like a futile attempt from outside viewpoints, watching the beast stumble blindly, his face covered, your thousand pairs of legs locked to keep his mouth closed from causing more harm to others with his serrated teeth made to gnaw through bone and break flesh and muscle to consume and feed his big appetite. They could only stare at König trash around, limbs slowly being locked together, bounding his arms from flailing and slashing at people and his leg from blindly ambling and rushing towards his next victim. You rippled around König, a mass becoming a full-body restraint containing the hybrid’s grunts and growls, unmoving and unrelenting against him. 

You kept König’s rampage in check, keeping him contained while they moved both you and him to the aircraft and back to base where they could wait out the shift, the burst of rage in the hybrid. Gaz had thrown you a bundle of clothes after König fell asleep, you slipped off and crawled to your clothes, reappearing in a human shape under all your protective layers. Although they knew you could take extensive damage and survive unscathed, they still worried, would your strength still held together with a chaotic mix of human resilience and percht invulnerability.

You seemed to have let yourself go a bit, letting Soap or Gaz drag you around the base, letting Rudy and Alejandro strike up a conversation, letting Ghost or König sit with you in silence, and letting Horangi get the jump on you and follow you soundlessly because he was curious (and answering his questions). You might not eat with them, but you swallowed down your fright and agreed to sit at their table while they ate, digging into their preferred meal and occasionally replying to their friendly banter. You were still nervous about spending so much time in public, the looming fear of being faced with disgust from your allies was still possible, but you - with the supporting pat on the shoulder from Price - worked through your storming thoughts and insecurities. 

Tag list: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel

[thejakeslayla]

╰─▸ ❝ three am ❞ - ,, jake sim

pairing bf!jake x gn! reader ୨୧ genre fluff ୨୧ warnings kissing, making out ୨୧ wc 1,4k ୨୧ just a little bit of beta, writer is sleep deprived req; prompt 19; (both waking up in the middle of the night and going on an adventure to find the perfect snack) prompt 9 (taking a photo of them smiling or in their element); prompt 14 (brushing strands of hair away)

as the clock struck 3 a.m., you made the decision to change into more comfortable clothes and head to bed, or at least attempt to do so. it was weekend, nothing to for the following day, yet you couldn't shake the guilt of staying up late. it’s like ruining your sleep schedule on purpose. you had already swapped your jeans for sweatpants, considering that you still needed to eat, and you didn't want to accidentally stain your pjamas.

you had been texting jake an hour ago, but he had stopped responding, leading you to assume he had gone to sleep. as you left your bedroom, a knock on your front door startled you. your eyes widened in fear; it was so late, and you wondered who could be knocking on your door at this hour.

your instinctive reaction was to message jake. you were already holding your phone, so you unlocked it and opened the chat with him. 

your messages filled with panic; "oh my god," "someone is knocking at my door," "what do i do," "jake, oh my god, i'm about to lose it. help."

to your surprise, you received a response, making you think that perhaps jake hadn't gone to bed yet. "just open the door," you gasped at his message.

‘ARE YOU INSANE THIS PERSON WILL PROBABLY KIDNAP ME OR KILL ME I WONT,’ you replied anxiously.

‘y/n.’ ‘open. the. door.’

you didn't understand, but a glimmer of hope made you consider that maybe, just maybe, it was jake. you cautiously approached the door, still fearing the person on the other side, and slowly opened it slightly, allowing you to peek at the intruder. 

the weight on your heart lifted, and the fear disappeared when you saw jake’s silly smile. you loudly groaned and finally opened the door.

"i'm also happy to see you!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he could enter your apartment. "i missed you," he added as you hugged him.

"you're insane, and i hate you. you scared me half to death," you said, pretending to be offended.

“you loooooove me,” he teased, swaying your bodies left and right. “anyways, i’m taking you on a date.” 

“a date? it’s late, jake.”

“don’t care, didn’t ask. put your shoes on, please.” 

you sighed, unable to say no to your adorable, puppy-like boyfriend. he was your soft spot, and he knew it, often abusing it, albeit in a loving way. jake was a pure soul, never even considering hurting you in any way. you quickly put on your shoes, and minutes later, you were outside on the quiet streets of seoul. as the world grew quieter, the streets came alive in a different way. the distant traffic hum became a soothing melody, and the cool breeze on your face, jake’s hand holding yours being the only source of warmth.

feeling the chilly air, jake pulled you closer, his body warming yours. soon, you entered a busier street, with neon signs flickering like distant stars, hurting your eyes if you stared too long. some music from nearby clubs revealed cities nightlife.

you walked in silence until jake pulled a pair of airpods out of his pocket and handed one to you. the music was already playing when you comfortably placed it in your ear. it took just one song for jake to start moving in rhythm with the music. taking advantage of the nearly empty street, he turned to you.

"y/n, let's dance," he said, making you chuckle, almost causing your airpod to fall out, which you had to readjust.

“dance?” you answered too late, as he had already moved away and spun you around. you couldn't help but laugh even more. you couldn't refuse; the melody forced you to dance on its own. for the entire song, you danced around, still moving forward. you didn't know where jake was leading you, but you didn't complain.

another song played, and jake began singing and even rapping loudly. you laughed heartily, enjoying the moment as much as you could. when the chorus rolled in, you both sang along, still somehow dancing. jake enthusiastically gestured while singing the lyrics, which only made you laugh even more.

at some point he even let go out of your hand to focus more on the song, soon after you were recording him and taking pictures, you were basically his hypeman, somehow shouting the adlibs. 

at some point, he let go of your hand to focus more on the song. soon, you were recording him and taking pictures, essentially becoming his hype person, enthusiastically shouting the adlibs. his moves were smooth and pleasant to watch, and you weren't laughing at his dancing skills; you were genuinely impressed. but when he suddenly twerked, you couldn't hold back your laughter and had to stop, nearly collapsing from laughter. 

he laughed alongside you. "please, don't tell me you got that on video," jake said after a minute or two of both of you laughing.

“i got it perfectly, don’t worry.” 

from an outside perspective, you probably looked like two idiots, dancing and singing to songs no one else could hear, laughing as if it were the funniest thing on earth. however, you couldn't be bothered to think about other people; it felt like it was just you, jake, and the music, creating cherished memories together.

you both gradually calmed down, still swaying to the beats as you walked. then, jake pulled you into a 7-eleven, mentioning that he was hungry.

“what are we feeling like eating?” he asked as you strolled through the instant noodles aisle. you quickly grabbed a pack for yourself, and jake followed suit. the argument at the self-checkout couldn't be avoided, but your boyfriend eventually won, claiming that he was the one treating you on this date and that he was the best boyfriend who needed to pay.

soon, you were sitting outside, near the microwaves and the self-cook ramen station. jake had you fill your cup with water first, and you didn't argue against his "best boyfriend" claims because, after all, they were true. as you waited for your cups to be filled, you swayed your hips to the music still playing in your airpods. jake quickly noticed and flashed you a bright smile.

the lyrics expressed a mutual desire in a singer's relationship, willing to do anything for their significant other. it was slow and perfect for the moment. you looked into jake's eyes, focusing more on the song's meaning. in the meantime, he placed his hands on your hips, swaying with you. you felt incredibly safe and loved in this precious moment between the two of you. a romantic song played, and you both gazed at each other with overwhelming love surrounding you. 

you couldn't resist leaning in and asking for a kiss. the tenderness in it felt different, and as his lips met yours, you were instantly flooded with butterflies in your stomach. it felt intimate and more passionate than your previous kisses. unconsciously, you wrapped your hands around his neck as you continued to sway gently, the loud beep from the machine preventing you from having a full-on make-out session in front of the store and the unfortunate cashier who could witness it all.

as you pulled away, you smiled at jake, feeling an abundance of happiness and love that seemed boundless and uncontrollable. both of you turned your attention to your cups, mixing the noodles. soon, you were seated, both slurping on the ramen.

“‘so good,” jake said, with his mouth full. “it hits different during nights like this.” he added after swallowing. 

you nodded, your cheeks full of noodles. he laughed at your adorable appearance, and you responded with a puzzled head tilt. "nothing, you're just cute," he said, perfectly understanding you without the need for words.

you swallowed your noodles, not responding verbally. instead, you reached out and brushed strands of his hair away as you saw him struggling to keep them out of his eyes, his hands occupied.

you both continued to eat as if nothing had happened, but jake's heart was undoubtedly racing from your swift action, his cheeks reddened, and his eyes widen. both of you were certain that this wasn't a fleeting relationship. this late-night date had made you both realise that this was something more, that you both loved each other unconditionally, and that you were both serious about your relationship, wanting to be together until the end.

requests: open; prompt list © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

[freakspectors]

HELUVAKINKTOBER: DAY 3 - BUKAKKE.

A Chuuya Nakahara | BSD x Female Reader Smut Fanfic.

warnings ; smut , bukakke , sex toys , mutual masturbation , degradation , praise if you squint , overstim if you get a magnifying glass , dazai mention (you can't escape him) , minor crack , nowhere near proofread , it's 1 AM on a school night please don't mind errors.. , etc .

author's note ; girl i feel so dumb. like mid fic writing i re-looked up bukakke and found out it was MULTIPLE MEN cumming on someone's face when i couldve sworn it was just one person. IM SO EMBARRASSED. but anyways.. i'm half awake, if this is horribly written, i'm sorry, and if you find it funny, thank you. i'm funniest when I'm sleep deprived.

heluvakinktober 2023 m.list .

“Fuck yeah, Doll. Touch yourself just like that..”

Chuuya moaned, leaning back into the cool leather of his office chair. You continued to ride the Dildo under his desk, rubbing tight circles on your puffy clit as the Executive before you stroked his length right before your eyes. His strokes were languid, almost teasing. You felt your mouth and pussy moisten at the sight of pre-cum coating the tip of Chuuya’s penis, the warm lighting of his small lamp making it shine beautifully.

He taps his cock on your right cheek, chuckling as a sticky ‘plap’ sound is heard in the obnoxiously silent room. You were fighting your thoughts — the urge to wipe the wet feeling off your cheek and lick it up, finally getting a taste of the redhead on your tongue. Chuuya interrupted your thoughts immediately, as if he were an empath.

“If you move your hands anywhere other than that pretty pussy of yours, there will be some punishments; and I don’t think you want that. Do ya, love?” Chuuya asked. His tone was insincere, shamelessly mocking you with a wide smile plastered on his annoying face. You wanted to retort, but god, were his reprimands attractive. You whine out a defeated ‘No’, sighing as a boisterous laugh rang in your ears. “Good girl. Now ‌keep bouncing f’me.”

Jackass. There was absolutely no wonder why that Dazai fucker hated his guts; who would like this son of a bitch?

That’s what your mind said. Your body, however, quaked for him. Your pussy pleaded for Chuuya’s dick, fingers, tongue, anything other than the cheap plastic he had made you ride. It was pathetically obvious, too, the once pristine tiled floors now coated in a pool of your slick. You wished for Chuuya's sick and twisted game to end, for him to fold you in half and have sex with you until you were senseless—

You hadn’t noticed how sensitive you made yourself while you were fantasizing about Chuuya like a schoolgirl, your clit raw and cunt mush from how hard you pleased yourself. You could’ve cummed just now and you wouldn’t be aware of it. But you couldn’t stop. Your body wouldn’t let you, not after the gorgeous sight before your very eyes.

Chuuya looked disheveled. He leaned all the way back in his chair, his hands tangling in his copper locks as his chest heaved while staring down at you. His moans got louder, louder, and louder, sure to worry anyone that so passed by the Executive’s office. Your gut was put on a spin cycle, the tight feeling in your abdomen returning for the umpteenth time that evening. You flicked, spun, and rubbed your clit as quickly as you could without it hurting, until his left, gloved hand gripped you by the hair and pulled your hair back.

“Open your fucking mouth, baby. I’m gonna glaze you so goddamn much you’d qualify as a fuckin’ donut — Oh, fuck..” the Executive groans. His words were so quick, you could barely understand his sentences. But words hadn’t been the reason for your nearing climax, no. How he handled you so roughly, the way he spoke to your quivering body. It was all too much to handle and process; soon enough, you’d reach the peak of your arousal.

It did. It hit you like a bullet train.

Thick, creamy white globs gushed around the dildo as you clenched around it, moaning out Chuuya’s name as if it was he you were riding like Paul-fucking-Revere. The redhead curses your name, visibly close to his own arrival. You could count how many times his cock twitched before he came; it was almost like everything was in slow motion.

One.

“FUCK.. Take it all, bitch, I want every drop of my cum on your face..”

Two.

“You’re gonna look like such a slut after all this.. I’ll take so many pictures of you just like this and — Shit!”

Three.

And your vision goes black. Well, white.

@ HELUVAKU 2023 . do not share or repost .

[musings-of-miss-j]

no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

part six: in which you wrangle out information about the doctor's segments, discover a library and obtain the favour of its obscenely wealthy resident

a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will most likely not be romantic interests)

notes: is the burn even burning. slow burn, gn neutral reader who is occasionally referred to as 'miss', smart-ass reader with just a sprinkle of social anxiety and a healthy dose of skepticism

warnings: blood and organs. are we even surprised at this point

series masterlist

as always, let me know if you find any pronoun slips!! oh, and friendly reminder that reblogs help circulate my work much better than likes <3

word count: 4628 words

*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  

“They are not clones,” he replied dismissively. “Have you nothing to say to explain yourself?”

“In that case, how precisely do you define them?” You prodded, all anxiety at your lateness forgotten in the face of this engrossing new mystery. “I’m assuming you created them. How, if not by cloning?”

The Doctor crossed his arms and stared you down. You gazed back up at him, resolute and unmoving in your curiosity. You looked different today, he noted; you apparently still hadn’t found your cloak judging from the fact you were wearing Childe’s, damn him,and the shadows under your eyes were more pronounced than usual. He frowned behind his mask. Had you not gotten enough sleep? Perhaps he shouldn’t have kept you in the lab so late; after all, sleep deprivation would make you more prone to committing foolish blunders in the vicinity of his precious experiments. He couldn’t have that.

“My segments are none of your concern,” he said with an air of finality.

“Doctor, as your apprentice, am I not entitled to having any questions outside my realm of expertise answered by you?”

Oh, you devious thing.

With a dismissive wave of his gloved hand, the Doctor swept past you towards the reflux apparatus he set up the night before.

“Provide an acceptable excuse for your tardiness, and perhaps then I’ll be more accommodating.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, unsurprised by his persistent give-and-take mentality, and made your way to your array of petri dishes. Under different conditions, the fungi growing within them developed a multitude of characteristics; under direct sunlight, tendrils of green plantlife snaked through the mycelium, when submerged in water the fungi formed tiny yet distinctive fins, and many other such phenomena.

“I had an encounter with Lady Eight and Lord Eleven after the lab session.”

“One that lasted well past midnight?” He asked, stealing glances at you as he set up the next step of his current experiment.

“Yes,” you confirmed with a disdainful roll of your eyes. “Hence my lack of punctuality. I had to entertain guests.”

Outrage flared in Dottore’s chest. How dare they intrude upon you at such an inopportune time? Of course, he conveniently dismissed the fact that he was the one who kept you so late in the first place; as far as he was concerned, he was entitled to your company. You were his apprentice, after all.

“Understandable enough,” he conceded.

You shot him a look. “Well? Your… segments? What are they, precisely?”

He muttered something unintelligible before responding.  “Iterations of myself at various ages.”

“I counted seven of them. Are there any more? What purpose does their existence serve? How did you create them?”

“You’re terribly inquisitive today, dear student,” he drawled, holding a test tube to the light and swirling the contents. You frowned. Did he intend to leave your questions unanswered? You really were awfully curious. “Count yourself lucky that I’m in fine spirits today.”

Visibly brightening, you rested your chin in your hands and your elbows on the workbench as you waited for him to go on. You never did seem to notice that he was always in a good mood whenever it came to you and your ceaseless inquiries.

“You counted correctly, there are indeed only seven of them,” he began, preparing a solution for the day’s work with the various test tubes in front of him. “I created them using techniques similar to those utilised in ancient ruin guards, but imbedded with my consciousness and the ideals I held at different phases of my life. This allows me to approach any problem from multiple perspectives, and prevents me from becoming restricted to familiar cognitive patterns.”

You hummed thoughtfully, brow furrowed as you mulled over his answer.

“But how did you ensure that the segment’s outlooks are exactly the same as the ones you used to have? Does your current personality not create some sort of bias and alter the way in which you view your… past self?”

The Doctor nodded his approval; you were asking the right questions.

“I am not heralded as a genius for nothing,” came his amused reply.

“That is a wholly unsatisfactory answer,” you grumbled, but let it slide. “Why haven’t I seen them before now?”

He elected to ignore that.

 

You managed to wriggle out of the Doctor’s snide remarks that you were getting lazy and make your way to the dining hall on time, for once. A restock was absolutely necessary; you’d run out of food in your dorm, and considering the sizeable journey you had to make to reach the dining hall it was a much easier endeavour to just hoard quick meals like an animal going into hibernation. Besides, you didn’t want to leave Arlie waiting, either. While you still didn’t know what kind of power she held, nor to what extent it would affect you, you were far from excited to have her demonstrate that power if you somehow managed to displease her. Even the Doctor, Childe and Signora appeared more manageable; at the very least, you knew exactly how they could make your life miserable if they wished, while Arlie was shrouded in mystery save for her dizzying, razor-sharp grace. Her special brand of courtesy felt like it would leave you scarred and bleeding out if you didn’t watch your step; a knife’s edge you had to dance around and an irresistible enigma for someone as relentlessly inquisitive as you.

After loading up a plate and sliding one of the chefs a tidy stack of mora to have packaged meals sent to your dorm, you slid into the seat across from Arlie at the table by the window you were somehow consistently lucky enough to snag (luck had nothing to do with it, really. She made damn sure no one else would sit there). Clearly she’d arrived some time ago, judging from the empty pot of coffee in front of her, and she offered you a nod of acknowledgment as you sat down. After your first meeting, she’d abandoned the purple robes that had were meant to serve the purpose of disguising her as an electro cicin mage, and now whenever you saw her she donned sleek, finely-tailored suits. You couldn’t say they didn’t look marvellous on her.

 

“I was expecting to see you at dinner, not this early.”

“The doctor was an in amicable mood,” you replied, buttering your roll and slathering on a layer of too-sweet jam. Mona had perfected both the art of astrology and jams; you missed her and the flawlessly balanced confections she’d make during the rare instances she had the mora to spare.

“Why are you staring at that bread roll as though it made you an orphan before your very eyes?” Arlie’s silky voice took on a bemused edge, snapping you out of your reverie. You were more than a little surprised by her question; you liked to think of yourself as somewhat difficult to read. Perhaps you were, but nothing escaped her searching gaze.

“I was just ruminating over my research.” It no longer unsettled you how smoothly the lie flowed from your tongue.

Annoyance spiked in her chest. Inconceivable, that you would entertain any thoughts that didn’t involve her. You smiled slightly. “And your ever-cryptic identity.”

She shook her head, laughing quietly. The previous frustration quickly dissipated. “Cheeky, aren’t you?”

“Tastefully curious,” you corrected with a laugh of your own.

“It’s hardly as if you’re the most comprehensible of people, either.”

You grinned. “I’m inclined to disagree, Arlie. Why, I’m an open book!”

“I’m having trouble translating your pages, then.”

“Linguistics isn’t your area of expertise, I take it?” You teased, lifting your fork to your lips. Casual conversation with Arlie felt less like balancing on a tightrope over a clearing swarming with tigers  and more like finding that one of the tigers was actually quite civil and pleasant company, if you overlooked the teeth and claws and minded your manners.

“I’ll gladly learn if it means understanding you better.” Her silver-tongued reply and suave smile had you blushing and taking a moment to collect yourself.

“And you have the unprecedented confidence to call me cheeky,” you quipped.

Savouring the lapse in your composure, she replied bracingly. “Being timid doesn’t get you anywhere. Listen. Request forms will be issued later today. Make sure to submit yours before midnight.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Ah, I see. To restock any necessities we might have exhausted, yes?”

“Precisely.”

Fantastic. You needed a new turtleneck sweater after the eventful dissection with the Doctor left if bloodstained beyond repair.

“I assume the Regrator is the one responsible for overseeing such matters?”

She frowned behind her mask. Just what did he have to do with anything? Why would you bring him into the conversation? Or anyone, for that matter? “Yes, that’s right.”

You shot her a puzzled glance at the sudden frigidity in her voice. Maybe she held a grudge against him, you reasoned; it was entirely possible that she was one of his higher-ranking subordinates. Or maybe she was a Harbinger who held contempt for one of her colleagues.

“The palace truly is a self-sustaining community,” you remarked. “Do soldiers and recruits ever leave for anything besides missions?”

“No. Snezhnaya is far from a forgiving place, and there’s safety to be had between these walls.”

So the Fatui were effectively isolated from the rest of Snezhnayan society, then. You vaguely remembered from an introductory politics lecture that such physical separation between civilians and the ruling body could easily cause unrest and eventually conflict, tearing the nation apart. Oh, well. Hopefully your diploma would be complete long before that happened.

 

With food in your stomach and the usual vague wonderings about Arlie in your head, you returned to the lab.

“Oh, good,” Dottore remarked without looking up from organ modification he was performing. He insisted that it was enhancement, optimisation, and you firmly maintained that it was nothing but needless meddling. “You’ve finally returned. Come here and help me locate the damned tricuspid valve.”

“Surely you’re not so old that your eyesight is failing, doctor?” You asked, removing your leather gloves in favour of the horrible yellow plasticky pair. With a contemplative hum, you leaned over the countertop to survey the bleeding heart (ha, ha) more closely. Remarkable, really, how precise the Doctor’s incisions were; even you had to swallow your pride and admit that he truly was the best of the best, the epitome of perfection so highly sought after by any academic. Noting the blood dripping onto the floor, you winced. Perfection tampered by a thorough indifference to anything that wasn’t his research would be a more accurate description. You batted away his hands and took the scalpel the two of you were always fighting over, making a clean cut through the right atrium and gently peeling away the torn muscle until you could see the flimsy tissue you were looking for.

“There’s your valve,” you said, handing him back the scalpel with no small measure of reluctance. The rules dictated that he’d get to use it for the rest of the day since he got it first, after all.

He ran his bloodied thumb along the edge of his mask before going back to poking delicately at the tissue. You grimaced, watching the white leather of his mask stain crimson where he touched it.

“Flawless,” he murmured.

“Yes, quite,” you agreed, surveying the heart over his shoulder. It had clearly been removed by someone exceptionally skilled, every slice through the tender flesh perfectly made.

Ironically, Dottore was referring to your work. And you, in general.

 

You left the lab tired but satisfied. The day’s experiment had involved lifting several heavy mechanical components; ruin guard’s remains, to be precise. To your eternal chagrin the Doctor hadn’t struggled in the slightest, although you knew for a fact his sleep schedule was deplorable and he so rarely ate anything at all; in fact, you’d made a habit of discreetly leaving plates of food around the lab for him. A dish of vegetable stir fry you’d made in a sleep-deprived haze when your stomach rumbled loud enough to wake you and most likely every one of the castle’s inhabitants, a bowl of fruit, an exquisite chocolate mousse Anya had whipped up for you, and other such snacks scattered throughout the lab far away from any dangerous chemicals. Not that you’d admit to bringing them for him, much like how he’d deny having eaten any. What a strange, prideful pair the two of you made.

Your (well. Childe’s) coat snagged on something as you walked back to the dorm, yanking you back and forcing an obscene curse from your mouth. You crouched to inspect the source, and to your surprise found it to be the edge of a door that was left cracked. It would’ve been invisible if it were closed, and hooking your fingers into the narrow gap and pulling yielded no results. The door didn’t budge. Intrigued, you knelt fully to inspect the wedge; upon running your fingers up and down the seam you discovered a series of tiny, circular indents in the wood.

“Eureka,” you whispered softly. A similar mechanism could be found in several other places in the palace after careful inspection, and to your amusement they all required the same pattern to unlock. Terrible security. You tapped the indents in the order you’d long since memorised, and allowed a tiny, smug smile to overtake your lips when the door swung dutifully open. You slipped inside. The sheer height of hundreds of rows of bookshelves made itself known, and you let out a tiny ‘oh’ of astonishment. A library. The most beautiful one you’d ever stepped foot in, at that; even the House of Daena with its towering arches and marble couldn’t compare to the soft, weathered charm of this place, all hand-woven rugs and big windows framed by velvet curtains, plush armchairs and an array of tasteful stationery littered across every surface, cream paper and deeply coloured quills and ebony ink. You stood frozen in the doorway, taking it all in. If only you’d discovered this place long ago. A quick inspection of the books on the shelves revealed a myriad of genres and topics, even a few analyses bound in leather of subjects you’d itched to study but couldn’t because they were forbidden by the Akademiya. You glanced furtively around. Silent as the grave. Before you could lose your nerve, you quickly began pulling tomes from the shelves and stowing them in your leather satchel; surely no one would complain if you borrowed a few until the next time you could visit this miraculous place. Looking back, you were appalled by your own bravado.

“Oh? And what have we here?”

You froze, a book on the intricacies of destroying Visions halfway in your satchel. Oh, curses.

“Nothing but a curious student, sir,” you replied as smoothly as you could, turning to face the owner of the voice: a well-groomed man dressed entirely in black, from his raven hair to the shimmering jewels studded on the high collar of his shirt. Nauseatingly wealthy, that much was obvious from the fineness of the fur he wore and what seemed to be a diamond ring on his finger. The part of your brain that wasn’t panicking at being caught wondered if he’d let you test whether it was real or not; a simple and visually pleasing procedure to determine the refractive index was all it would take.

The stranger picked at his gloves, watching you over the rim of a rather excellent pair of glasses (you could tell from the set of the lenses in the frames; seamless as the door you’d unlocked to get into the library.)

“Really, now? A thirst for knowledge is all that drove you here, then?”

You swallowed nervously. Just how would you get yourself out of this predicament?

“The door was ajar, and I couldn’t help but wonder what might be inside.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“And how did you manage to open the door all the way?”

You bit back the smug smile that was threatening to appear. Best to downplay yourself so as not to seem too clever; a man this rich would obviously be powerful too, and nothing good could come of revealing your assets to him.

“I don’t know, sir,” you replied, injecting as much cluelessness into your voice as you could. “I just pulled it open. My apologies for intruding, it wasn’t my intention.”

“That would be believable if I were just a touch more foolish. Unfortunately for you, I’m not convinced by your innocent act.” He smiled. “At all.”

Rich and intelligent. What a bothersome combination.

“I suppose my only defence is that I was unaware this was a private library,” you conceded, re-shelving the tome. The wistful look in your eyes as you did so was quite amusing, he thought.

“And how do you plan on earning my forgiveness?”

“What are my options?” You countered without missing a beat.

Hm. Not bad, he thought approvingly.

“Why not introduce yourself? I’d quite like to know the name of the thief who knows how to break into a library I thought impenetrable.”

You cleared your throat, embarrassed, and fidgeted discreetly with your gloves.

“I wouldn’t call myself a thief, sir. I fully intended on returning these once I had read them,” you protested, then gave him your name. “I’m an apprentice of the Doctor’s.”

Subtle realisation dawned on the man’s face.

“Oh, I see. The infamous ‘Trixy,’ no?”

“That… is indeed the nickname Lord Eleven insists on calling me by.” You were going to kill him, you really were.

He smiled. “I thought Dottore was exaggerating when he referred to you as ‘overly cunning.’ It looks like I was wrong.”

You frowned slightly at the casual use of the Doctor’s name. Archons. Just my luck, being caught nicking books from a Harbinger’s library.

“I am the Regrator.” Reaching towards you, he took hold of your hand and kissed the back of it. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, sir- my lord,” you replied, flustered by his greeting and your mistake. “Truly an honour. Allow me to once again extend my apologies for imposing myself on your property.”

“Not to worry, one apology was quite enough,” he replied with another smile. How quickly he changed his tune; a moment ago you were quite worried he’d do much worse than throw you out, but now he was all class and geniality. These two-faced Harbingers really would be the death of you, forcing you to switch between subtle defensiveness and gracefully accepting compliments.

“I’ll see myself out,” you said, breaking the impending silence. “Thank you for your hospitality, my lord.”

“No, no. Stay, I insist. In fact…” He took hold of your shoulders and steered you towards the fireplace, nudging you into a chair. “Why not take a seat? If my memory serves, today you’re to receive the requests forms, is that right?”

He grinned, satisfied, when you nodded in confirmation.

“Lovely. Tell me what it is you were going to have brought to the palace, and I’ll ensure its timely delivery.”

Your eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch.

“And what do you gain from providing me this assistance?”

“Your favour,” he replied promptly, so matter-of-fact that you thought you’d misheard. Well. If he was going to take the first shot and be such a flatterer, then you could certainly play along.

“Why, you’ve already gained it by extending your cordiality,” you said, lifting a gloved hand to your mouth to hide the grin threatening to overtake your features.

Regrator laughed, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. The flickering glow of the fireplace threw the planes of his face into sharp relief, all razor-sharp angles that could cut through diamond. Unsettled, you took to pulling at the fingertips of your gloves for a moment’s respite from his eerie black gaze, glinting like the surface of a bottomless lake at night. Maybe, just maybe, masks were preferable.

“You’re something of a smooth talker,” he remarked. “Perhaps I’ve met my match.”

“I couldn’t hope to live up to your articulacy, my lord, though I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be so humble. I understand that you’re quite the genius in your own field, no?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Whatever gave you such an impression?”

“It’s not often Dottore goes larking about others’ intelligence,” he replied with equal amusement, watching the swirling clouds of snow outside the stained glass window. Now that caught you by surprise. Surely the Doctor, legend of the Akademiya and one of the arrogant men you ever had the displeasure of meeting, wouldn’t bestow you with such praise.

“I’m clever enough to get by,” you settled on saying, fingers itching to check your pocket watch. It had to be late, but the Regrator imposed a strange aura that compelled you to follow what little etiquette you knew of. The moment you realised this, however, you made a point of taking your watch out and checking the time. The only nonsensical rules you would allow to influence your behaviour were those that could eventually be explained; the laws of science.

“Terribly humble,” he murmured, repeating his previous statement with a touch more gratification.

“It never pays to be egotistical without good reason,” you concluded, making to get up. “It’s been a pleasure, my lord”-

“Sit, sit,” he said firmly, cutting you off. “You won’t have time to submit the request form now,” he pointed out. ‘You might as well stay and tell me what it is you need so I can take care of it.”

You cursed softly under your breath. He was right, unfortunately, and you really were in dire need of several necessities. Resignedly, you sat back down. The Regrator’s pleased twitch of his lips didn’t escape your notice; clearly he’d planned this out. Sneak.

“Much obliged,” you muttered, not without a healthy amount of resentment you didn’t bother hiding.

“But of course.”

He stared at you expectantly, that maddeningly unbothered half-smile never budging from his lips. You bit back a sigh. Best get this over with.

“Well, for starters, I need at least seventy grams each of qingxin, violetgrass, mourning flowers and lumidouce bells. Oh, and ten grams of sunsettia seeds. Other than that, one kilogram each of copper, crystal marrow and white iron, and as many chaos devices and spectral husks as you can afford.”

“That sounds similar to Dottore’s usual order, yes,” he mused. “But forgive me for asking… why the sunsettia seeds?”

“Sunsettia trees can be coaxed into growing under very harsh conditions, and I happen to quite like the fruit,” you answered with a shrug.

The half-smile widened just a touch.

“I see. Everything else on your list seems to pertain to laboratory work. Are you certain you won’t require any… more personal items?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Although, the doctor did say you would know why I didn’t receive the standard uniform for Fatui recruits,” you added as an afterthought. He blinked, as if caught by surprise.

“Why, it’s quite simple. You’re not considered a recruit at all.”

You stared unabashedly at him. “What?”

“It’s true,” he continued, toying with the fine silver chain of his glasses. “Your file simply has 'scholar' written as the rank.”

“How ambiguous,” you bit out, dragging a hand down your face. For all their bluster and pomp, you’d decided that the Fatui were a ragtag group of disorderly misfits with no sense of how to run such a large and influential organisation. ‘Rank: Scholar? Seriously? Keqing’s voice in your head pointedly asked if you thought you would me more up to the task of filing accurate records on thousands of people. You mentally grumbled.

“Quite fitting for a mysterious person like you.”

You lifted your head to shoot him an incredulous glance. “Yes, absolutely, my lord,” you muttered sarcastically under your breath. “My every action is so veiled in mystique, I can hardly see a metre in front of me from all the smoke and mirrors.”

The Regrator chuckled quietly.

“Clearly you understand that brevity is the soul of wit.”

“Just bursting with wisecracks, my lord,” you deadpanned. “It’s time I should be going.” Rising from your chair, you cast a longing glance across the library. “…Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask for permission to visit your library now and again?”

“Permission granted,” he conceded with a nod and twinkle in his fathomless eyes. “You’d be a welcome guest at any time.”

With a grateful ‘thank you’ and a brief smile, you hurried out of the secret door and back to your dorm.

As far as you were concerned, morning had yet to begin if it was almost noon. The sky was completely clouded over, not a glimpse of the tenuous blue visible through the layers upon layers of cottony white. In your professional opinion, if the sun wasn’t visible then the day hadn’t even started; hence why you were still in bed savouring your only day off of the week.

With a contented sigh, you pulled the blankets up to your chin and settled in a more comfortable positon, the battering of the wind against your window and the distant crowing of ravens forming a lulling symphony. Sleep was just around the corner.

A crash startled you out of your pleasant half-awake reverie, the suddenness of the movement quite effectively acquainting your skull with the wooden headboard. You muttered a string of curses, electing to ignore whoever had the unparalleled audacity to make such a noise and go back to sleep. The intruder wasn’t as agreeable about your plan, unfortunately.

“Rise and shine, Trixy!” An all too familiar voice rang out. You groaned and buried your head beneath the covers. Maybe it was a hallucination that would disappear if you ignored it. Hallucinations weren’t tangible, however, but Childe very much was, judging from how he shook your shoulder and prevented you from slipping back into your slumber. You made a half-hearted attempt to bat his hand away.

“Heavens’ sake, Childe,” you rasped, curling up tighter and willing him to go away. The use of his name rather than a snidely bit out title, or worse still, just his rank, gave him pause. You congratulated yourself on managing to shock him long enough to allow yourself to settle back into the mattress. Not even a moment later you felt a freezing pair of hands grab your ankles and pull.

“H-hey!” You kicked and thrashed, but Childe just laughed and tugged you out of bed. You could’ve sobbed. “What do you want?” You grumbled, crossing your arms.

“Awww, it’s almost as if you don’t want me here,” he said with a pout, watching you rub your eyes and push the hair out of your face. You were softer around the edges like this, he thought, hackles lowered slightly and the suspicion in your eyes worn away by sleep.

“You’re slow on the uptake, but know that I’m proud of you for finally coming to a correct conclusion,” you deadpanned. “Now tell me what’s so bloody important that you saw it fit to wake me.”

He grinned brightly. “It’s your day off, isn’t it? I wanted to take you to the city!”

You opened your mouth to snap out a scathing retort that would probably have him leaving the room in a huff, then closed it again. He looked so hopeful, all wide eyes wrinkling at the corners from the wideness of his boyish grin. You wanted to kick yourself for going so soft on him.

“Alright,” you conceded. “Let’s go to the city.”

*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  

taglist: @shikanosn, @viridian-coffer, @vvzhyxx

if you want to be added or removed from the taglist then just send me a message!! in a similar vein, if you want to be mutuals then dm meeeeeee

[arminaneka]

Nanami x fem reader

Note: GUYS IM BACK FOR NOWW IT HAS BEEN SO LONG😭 (I’ll probably disappear again after this post)

——————————————————————————

You were currently 5 months pregnant waiting on Nanami to get home, he hasn’t been home for 2 days straight because of some unfinished work.

You guys have been together for 2 years and engaged for 4 months, you made one of his favorite dishes for dinner and put it in the toaster oven to keep warm hoping he’d come home to it still warm. You were so excited for him to come home you felt like you were going to burst.

You sat on the sofa watching Tv while waiting, after a while you got a text from nanami, your face lit up unfortunately it was just filled with sad new. The text stated that he wouldn’t be coming home until the next morning. You felt so devastated but you knew that it was your hormones making you feel this way because usually you’d understand when he has to work late.

You’ve been touch deprived for 2 days and you thought tonight you’d finally feel better but you were wrong. Before you knew it you started crying. You felt so selfish for crying over something so dumb and foolish.

You decided to go to bed since he wasn’t coming home for the night. You went into the bedroom and went into the bed, you covered yourself and drifted off to sleep.

3:26 am

You were awoken by the sound of movement in the room. You knew exactly who it was judging by the smell, it was nanami..

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you” he mumbled. “I thought you weren’t gonna be home till 7?” You got up and turned on the light. “It’s okay I wasn’t really sleeping anyways” you laughed. Looking at his face you saw that he was injured and he also had a stab wound. “Before you worry yourself and the baby I’m fine. Just a little scratch” he told you.

Not in the mood to argue with him you pulled him into the bathroom and took out the first aid kit. “I said I was fine honey” you ignored him and cleaned his stabbed wound and wrapped it up. You then proceed to clean the bruises on his face and put a plaster on them. “Why were you crying?” He lifted up your chin to see your red eyes.

“It was nothing just my hormones” you tired to laugh it off feeling way too embarrassed to tell him why you were actually crying.

“You never cry over something dumb I know you, tell me what’s wrong baby” he placed you on the bathroom counter. “I just missed you that’s all… and your touch and your voice and everything about you” feeling a little embarrassed that those words left your mouth. “You missed me huh?” He smirked. You nodded and put your hands around his neck. “Good thing I’ll be home tomorrow” he whispered in your ears as he took you back into the bedroom.

Sorry for the mistakes 😔

[cvrnelians]

smile like you mean it - chapter five

You knew filing for divorce would be no easy feat. But filing for divorce from Roman Roy?

"No easy feat” might as well have been synonymous with “impossible."

warnings: drug use, alcoholism, miscarriage, Roman and the rest of the Roy family being awful.

chapters 1-3 // chapter four

music

chapter five

10 ways to get someone to like you: A foolproof guide

If you want to be liked, be likable.

Roman scowled and slammed his laptop shut, carelessly tossing it to the end of the bed. 

“What a stupid fucking article.”

He got up and stretched, his limbs still rigid from a heavy sleep. If there was anything positive to come out of the complete and utter shitshow that was the day before, a good night’s sleep took the cake. Rest was something Roman didn’t get a whole lot of lately, but when he did sleep, he slept hard. 

Prior to becoming COO of Waystar Royco, he had always been a heavy sleeper. It wasn’t unusual for him to get eight hours of shuteye even after napping all day. He had a copious amount of (not-so-fond) childhood memories in which Connor, Kendall, and Shiv jumped on his bed in order to wake him up. They often had to hit him with pillows and shake him to the point of nausea to get him to finally open his eyes.

Well, they didn’t really have to. 

There were a small handful of differences between now and then. 

Although he would never admit it, his job was a big source of stress for him. The most pathetic thing about it? Most days he didn’t accomplish even twenty five percent of what his colleagues did. And what he was able to do completely exhausted him. It was a lot to live up to, being the inheritor—and now a figurehead—of a monster he hadn’t created; a monster he wasn’t even sure he wanted to keep feeding. 

Another major difference between now and then was that Kendall no longer needed to shake him from a dead sleep in order to make him feel nauseous. All it really took was watching him walk into your room in the middle of the night, casual as could be, to put Roman into a not-so-ideal headspace.

“Acting like he was reuniting with an old friend or some shit,” he mumbled under his breath. He got into the shower, his mind going a million miles a minute as he continued talking to himself. “I’m Kendall,” he mocked. “I’m better than everyone now, didn’t you know? I went to rehab. I drink green juice. I’ve read The Secret. I don’t have stress anymore because I never see my own children. Look how stable I am now.” 

This was the one downside of being so well-rested. His brain actually lived up to its potential. His mind simply refused to slow down. No matter how hard he willed himself not to think of you, he only thought about you that much more. Not that this was all that different from any other day. Roman thought about you all the time, sleep deprived or not.

He liked you. Okay? Even with your cheap clothes and your shitty attitude and your refusal to sit next to him in the car, he had some…feelings when it came to you.

Ew.

He hated it when you were upset with him, and he hated it even more when you weren’t around.

From the first time he saw you, he liked you. A lot, actually.

Roman liked you a lot.

He had gone to your room the night before to say he was sorry discuss how hypersensitive you were being in response to the hilarious things he said, but he stopped short in the doorway. 

As it turned out, you were busy. So as any gentleman would, Roman said fuck that noise and booked it back to his room. That was the second time you made him run that day, you little jerk.

He wondered if he should take bearing witness to that stomach-turning embrace between you and Kendall as a sign. Perhaps he should never apologize to anyone, for any reason, ever again. Not even to those who deserved an apology. Not even to you. If that was what he got for trying to be the bigger person, having to watch his stormcloud of an older brother get what he wanted without even having to try, well…what was the point? 

“Likable. Likable? What does that even mean?” he asked himself. 

Why would the author of that article automatically assume the people reading it were the unlikable ones? What kind of introduction was that? Why should he have to shoulder the responsibility of someone not liking him? Why should he have to do all this work to win you over? Why was he even worried about it? You should be the one trying to get into his good graces. You should be the one typing stupid questions into Google at seven o’ clock in the morning, not him. It didn’t matter that he called you a run-of-the-mill, ladder climbing, H&M wearing plebeian (or a coffee gopher). It didn’t matter that he had driven you to the brink of a full blown mental breakdown under his tenure. It didn’t matter that knowing he was the one that made you cry felt like a punch to the gut.

...which didn't even turn him on, by the way.

None of it mattered. He shouldn’t have to apologize for a thing. You were obviously sleeping with Kendall. Kendall! Even if you weren’t working for him, sleeping with Kendall would still put you in the wrong in any context. You were trying so desperately to make Roman believe he was the problem, just as everyone else did. You little gaslighter. 

You weren’t seriously going to leave over a couple of little insults, right?

Right?

He was so distracted by his own thoughts, he somehow managed to get a concerning amount of shampoo in his eyes. 

“Ow, FUCK!” 

Following five stressful minutes of washing his eyes out (or trying to, anyway), he slumped over and held his hands over his face, allowing the water to run directly over his head. He could still picture you crying on the plane, which he had been doing on a loop for the past several hours. He could concede that he came off a little unpleasant at times, but it was more of a defense mechanism than anything. Deep down, Roman knew he didn’t take anyone seriously simply because no one else took him seriously. But you had wanted to be taken seriously, and did everything to earn that. 

You were having some relatively fun banter prior to the moment he turned on you like a feral dog. When he was finished with his cutting little monologue, you looked like you had been slapped. Seeing you so upset and proceeding to mock you for it…

Ugh.

This was not uncharacteristic of Roman, but it wasn't necessarily his proudest moment, either. It made him sick to his stomach, as a matter of fact. 

A lot of things about the past few days made him sick to his stomach.

He could remember having a similar feeling from when he was growing up. Everything would be fine and dandy until he would say or do one little thing to set Logan off, and then bam: 

First came the hurt, then came the ridicule. 

“Oh, you’re crying now? You’re crying? Why don’t you just go tell Kendall about it? I’m sure he’d love nothing more.” 

Roman cringed at his own words.

First came the hurt, then came the ridicule. 

And then he was alone.

If you want to be liked, be likable.

He would never say it to you directly, but if he could, he would.

"I’m sorry I made you so sad."

☽ 

“You have no idea how things will turn out, and it’s very juvenile. It’s fucking dumb. You’re being dumb!”

You cringed as Kendall’s words bounced around in your head.

Last night had been very interesting, to say the least.

For several hours now, you lay flat on your back, slipping in and out of a restless sleep. When you did become lucid, you simply stared up at the impossibly tall vaulted ceiling. It was painted and preserved beautifully, gold borders encasing rich shades of red and blue. You reached your arm up, pretending to trace and retrace the intricate patterns with your fingers. Exhausted yet unable to sleep, you needed something mindless and soothing to wind yourself down. 

Sadly, your efforts were to no avail. Your mind was still racing, hyper focused on what transpired the night before. It was jarring to think that just a simple “so, how have you been?” from Kendall would open a Pandora's box you had no clue even existed. You didn’t have much time to concentrate on it, though. At that moment, two things happened at once.

You felt a stab of panic as you received a notification that your flight was now boarding. You couldn’t believe it. You had missed your flight. You had dissociated to the point of having missed your flight. And before you could even sit up, you were startled by a loud banging noise against your door. It sounded like someone was ramming something into it full force. You weren't even sure who you were hoping not to see at this point.

Not since Kendall went absolutely ballistic on you.

“Knock, knock!” a familiar voice yelled. He didn’t bother actually knocking, nor did he wait for you to respond. He probably thought the unpleasant crash was sufficient enough.

You were almost relieved.

Enter one Roman Roy.

But he wasn’t alone. In front of him was the culprit, the battering ram that nearly gave you a heart attack, in the form of a large metal breakfast cart. If that wasn’t bizarre enough, he was dressed in athletic wear. He looked out of place in such a grandiose room, like you were playing a beginner’s version of “I Spy.” 

I spy with my little eye something reprehensible.

“Here comes the breakfast fairy,” he said in an awkward, singsong voice. He slowly rolled  the unsteady cart towards you. “Here to um…y’know. Bring you breakfast. Breakfast just for you.”

A wheel broke off as he made his way over, making coffee spill onto the tray. He cursed as he shakily lifted the tray up off the cart and reached over to hand it to you. You gawked at him. “Okay, that’s what I get for saying that. That was fucking stupid. I didn’t say that. You don’t remember me saying that.” 

“You brought me breakfast?”

“It would appear so,” he said cheerfully. “Like a good boy.”

“I missed my flight,” you blurted out awkwardly. 

He paused for a second, taking a deep breath before reverting back to his typically rude delivery. “Yeah, not my problem. Can you please just take the tray? It’s really heavy.”  

“I missed my flight,” you repeated. 

He ignored you and slowly set the tray on your lap. He lifted the lid to reveal a pretty solid breakfast as far as you were concerned: a single poptart and two comically large cups of coffee. One was black, the other a latte with a poorly drawn happy face carved into the foam. You would have laughed if you weren’t so stressed out. All of this buildup for a lone pastry and an alarming amount of coffee.

“Where’s the second poptart?”

“I ate it. Obviously. Don’t be ungrateful,” he snapped. “You like wildberry, right? You seem like you would like wildberry. A little fun, a little different. Spice up your life, or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, breaking the poptart into several pieces before taking a bite. “You could have the most elaborate breakfast in the world, and yet you’d prefer to have this?”

“What? I may be rich but that doesn’t mean I like exclusively rich people things. Have you seen rich people food? I mean, probably not but…” 

You tentatively picked up the latte. “Did you poison this? Did you spit in this?”

“Hah, you wish.”

“I wish?”

“I mean, I can if you’d like,” he said, leaning towards you.

“No!” you yelled, making him wince. You lowered your voice. “Sorry, no. I think I’m alright.”

He reached down to pick up the other mug. “This one's for meee.”

“Of course it is.”

He gasped, cradling the side of his face with his palm in mock excitement. “Uh oh. I have an idea. Do you want to spit in mine?”

“I hate this conversation," you sighed. "You’d probably be into that, so I’m gonna say no.”

“Well, how do you know for sure that the cool one is yours?”

You shrugged. “Because I’m cool.”

“You sure about that?” 

“And I know you like your coffee black.”

“Touché,” he said, leaning against the wall across from your bed. You both drank your coffee in silence for a few moments.

“Did you bring this from home?” you asked, pointing to the poptart. 

“No. I made that lanky muppet go buy me a box.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Wh...Wait, are you talking about Greg?”

“Yeah, I figured I would send Gumby on a little errand since I apparently can’t do that with you anymore. Since you’re—” he made air quotes with his fingers—“quitting.” 

“Wait, does he even know how to drive in the UK? How did he even get to a store? We’re miles from—” 

“I told him I would make him sleep outside if he didn’t figure out a way to score me some. I have no clue how he got all the way out into the city so fast. Can you believe that? Being tall does have its perks, I guess. His strides had him moving at the speed of light, apparently.” 

You gawked at him again, horrified. 

Poor, poor Greg.

You dropped the remaining pieces of the poptart on your plate. “I’m not hungry anymore.” 

“Oh come on, it’s funny. Don’t let his efforts be in vain.” He took a big gulp of coffee. “Anyway. I was thinking...”

“Why are you dressed like that?” you asked.

“Like what?”

“Like a fitness influencer.”

“I was getting to that. Don’t interrupt me.”

You leaned your head back and groaned. 

“Okay, drama. Calm down. We’re all supposed to go golfing this morning, but I hate golf. I'm pretty sure you do, too. You told me once. So I thought maybe we could, like. I don’t know. Pretend to go for a run like we usually do? Talk? Only if it’s not going to cut into your busy schedule, of course. Ms. Newly Unemployed.”

“Roman, what could you possibly want to talk about? If you’re going to try and convince me to stay, don’t waste your time.”

“I was thinking we could get to know each other, at least a little bit. That way, I would know what to put in your reference letter when you blow this popsicle stand.”  

“Yeah. Like you would write the letter yourself,” you mused. "Like you even could. You can't even reply to an email in a timely manner."

“Hey!”

“Fine. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. Like I said, I missed my flight and am feeling like a total idiot. Bet you’re really getting off on that one.” 

He stared at you for a few seconds, like he was thinking carefully about what to say next. 

“What?” you asked.

He sighed. “I’m not getting off on it as much as you might think.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“I don’t know how you perceive me exactly, but I have a general idea. And I know this might come as a shock, but like I said, I’m really not that bad. I mean, okay. I am. I am. But not in every situation, not always. I’ll have you know, I do have my moments.”

“Yeah? When?”

“Right now, maybe? Look, I brough—”

“Brought me breakfast. Yeah. I can see that.”

“Which I still haven’t gotten a proper thank you for, by the way.”

“I’ll give you a proper thank you when you give me a proper apology.”

“Fine. Okay, I’m sorry I was a little unreasonable with you yesterday. I’m sorry I, uh…manhandled you when we were getting into the car. Or tried to. Like, really, really tried.You’re pretty strong, you know that?” 

“Is that all?” you asked, cocking your head to one side.

“And I’m sorry for what I said about you and Kendall. And calling you names. I didn’t mean it. That about covers it, right?”

“And?”

“...being a dick?”

You considered not even bringing it up, but since you decided to quit your job, you simply did not care anymore.

“Aren’t you sorry that you lied to me?”

“Wait, what?” he asked, on the verge of laughter. “I didn’t lie to you. Lie to you about what?” 

Your conversation with Kendall rang loud and clear in your ears.

“It’s so good to see you. I wish you could’ve been on the flight with us, but I know you got held up. Work comes first.” 

Work comes first? What did that have to do with there not being enough seats on the jet? 

“Got held up?” 

“Yeah, Roman told us you guys were swamped.” 

“I…I mean, yeah. I’m always busy, but we flew separately because Roman told me there wasn’t enough room on the plane for us.” 

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” 

“Yeah, he said there were some issues with the seats. A few of them needed to be repaired, so there wasn’t enough space for everyone.”

“Are you…oh my god,”  Kendall scoffed. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Ken, I don’t—”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Roman, why did we fly here separate from everybody else?”

Roman choked on his coffee, making him stop to clear his throat. “I already told you, there wasn’t enough space for our sparkling personalities on Dad's favorite plane.”

“Not enough space?”

“Yep.”

“You sure about that?”

“Look, no matter what evocative bullshit you send my way this morning, you can’t change my mind. I’ve already decided. I want to make things up to you. So, if you’re upset that I maybe told a little white lie, I’m sorry.”

“So you did lie, then?”

He eyed you sheepishly.

“Sort of. How did you figure it out?"

“I don’t get it. Of all things, why would you lie about that?” 

“I don’t know, maybe it had something to do with me not wanting to hang out with my family in a torture chamber for hours? What if we crashed? You think I wanna die surrounded by a bunch of scorpions?”

“They’re your family!”

“Unfortunately."

“If the two of us crashed together, you’d have died alongside someone that doesn’t even like you. How is that more appealing?”

"Oh, how you wound me," he said flatly. “That may be so, but you don’t annoy me. Not to mention, you only sting me if I sting you first. It’s refreshing.”

You didn’t have the mental bandwidth to analyze that one this morning.

“Alright, fine. But your apology tour isn’t quite over yet.”

“You do know I don’t have to apologize to you at all, don’t you? You’re leaving. You’re basically nothing to me.”

“And yet, here you are.” 

“What can I say? I’m just such a nice guy.”

You both stared at each other for a second before launching into hysterics.

Roman sighed as you both attempted to stop cackling. “You know this is the most you’ve smiled at me in…like, ever? Is that poptart really that good?”

“I just feel relieved is all.”

“And why is that?”

“Why do you think?” you asked. "I'm finally freeing myself from your reign of tyranny."

"Do you really hate me that much?" he asked, setting down his mug. “We have fun sometimes, don't we? I mean, we got into a blowout argument yesterday and now we're totally fine. Even when we argue, I still don't feel like we're enemies. And believe me, I have a lot of those. Are you sure you want to leave?”

The way he was looking at you was truthfully making you a little sad. But as per usual, he wasn't thinking logically. You were practically attached at the hip every day. Of course there was some level of familiarity between the two of you, even amidst all the chaos. It was easy to mistake for friendship, given how often you were in communication, given how much you did for him. But that was your job.

You had to stop yourself from smiling.

Not anymore, it wasn't.

“Roman, the way we communicate is super dysfunctional. You’ve made me cry multiple times. Yes, I’m sure I want to leave.”

“Ugh," he groaned. "Okay. Look, as far as I'm concerned, you're king shit of fuck mountain right now."

"Excuse me, what?" you laughed.

"What you say goes. Pick a number, I'll increase your salary. Lay out some ground rules. I'm not the most ethically sound person in the world, but I do know how to compromise when it comes to doing what's best for business. And you're probably the only person who can tolerate me, so."

"Roman, I don't think I can come back from yesterday. That was way, way too much. But it's not just you. Last nigh—"

"I was wrong," he interrupted you. "I usually am. Shocker. But here's the thing: you're kind of like...invaluable, to me?" It came out as more of a reluctant question than a statement. His voice was shaky and small as he continued on. "You've, um...helped me a lot. In more ways than one. And I don't want you quitting and just going to work for Kendall again, because I don't really trust him."

"Roman, I can assure you that is not something you will ever have to worry about. Last nigh—"

"Just don't go, please."

You would've been more annoyed with him constantly interrupting you if his voice didn't sound so pitiful, if he didn't look so pitiful. You were caught off guard by the groveling. Not necessarily put off by it, but certainly surprised. This was possibly the most vulnerable you had ever seen him. And the whole breakfast thing; since when did Roman go out of his way to do something deliberately nice for you? It was very obviously to serve his own purposes. He didn't want you to quit, but it didn't seem to come from a bad place.

You had observed him for a second too long, it seemed. He cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure. Just like his kindness, Roman's willingness to be vulnerable also had a very short shelf life.

"If you expect another apology, you can fuck off. And I know you do expect one. But don't actually fuck off, you know what I mean? Out of everybody here, I want you to fuck off the least."

"Wow," you said flatly. "That's amazing."

"I know. I can't believe it, either."

☽ 

kendall 👀👀

@pearlstiare // @ay0nha // @theladyalicnt // @littleladdty @spacebaby1