#I should give it a fancy name but I couldn't come up with one so it's just zelink lol

[rotisseries]

r u interested in sharing a link to the 5 hour zelink playlist?

here you go!

[too-much-tma-stuff]

This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.

In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.

Masterpost

------

Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.

He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?

He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.

And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.

So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.

It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.

"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.

He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.

"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"

'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.

"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.

"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.

"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"

"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.

"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.

The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.

Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.

Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.

"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.

The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.

Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.

The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.

He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.

"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.

"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.

"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.

"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.

"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"

Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.

"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.

"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."

"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.

"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"

Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.

"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."

"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.

The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?

That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.

Part 2

[john-get-the-salt]

Packed Lunch (w/spencer reid)

Imagine: One morning Spence is in a rush to leave for work and forgets his lunch. You know he gets cranky when he gets hungry, so that only leaves one option.

Contains: secret relationship becoming not so secret anymore, funny Rossi, cute domestic Reid

It'd been exactly 39 minutes since Spencer left for work and you hadn't moved a muscle, standing and glaring at the bag sitting on the counter. It wasn't that the bag itself had offended you, as it was in fact just a harmless brown paper bag. What did offend you, was that it wasn't with Spencer like it should be. The packed lunch was no good if Spencer didn't pack it with him to work.

He'd been in such a rush leaving that morning that he zipped out the door without it. Whenever he stayed the night at your place you made sure to pack him a lunch, knowing that he wasn’t always the best at caring for himself.

Forgetting to bring lunch wasn't usually a big deal for most people. You knew that the federal building where he worked had a cafeteria.

But this was Spencer Reid you were talking about. And Spence hated the cafeteria food. On the occasion he forgot his lunch he'd just go the entire day living off coffee and whatever snacks were hidden in his desk. Then he’d go back to either his apartment or yours, starving and with a nasty headache.

This meant without his lunch he would most likely not be eating today. And as you thought about how stressed and overworked he'd been lately, that did not sit well with you.

So it was decided. You would drop his food off.

He was just in the office for the day as far as you knew, so you were moderately sure you could just leave it with the front desk or something and have them take it up to him.

The two of you had been dating for several months but agreed to keep it secret from his coworkers for now. Spencer was adamant that in his line of work he could never have any secrets, and for once he wanted to have something all to himself. You couldn't even begin to understand how he did what he did, so that was an easy request to grant.

You had since then discussed telling his co-workers about your relationship as you two became more serious, but the right time hadn't come up yet. Plus it made you giggle when he told you the tales of his co-workers trying to set him up or making fun of his lack of romantic life.

This all meant you couldn't just stroll into the building and announce to everyone that you were dropping food off for your boyfriend, Spencer Reid. You would need to quickly and discretely drop the food off and then be gone without a trace.

No harm in that at all. Right?

You quickly got dressed and grabbed the lunch. Living within walking distance of the BAU headquarters was extremely handy, especially today. It was a nice day and you enjoyed the weather as you walked.

It only took about 15 minutes before you were pulling the doors to the government building open, immediately being hit with a rush of cool air. The inside was full of people who looked like they really meant business in their fancy suits and stern faces. You sudden felt self conscious in your normal ‘civilian’ attire, and scurried up to the front desk to get this over with.

The lady at the front desk seemed disinterested, and barely looked up when you stopped in front of her.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi, yes. I was hoping I could drop off this food for my boyfriend. He works here and forgot it this morning and he always gets cranky when he's hungry and-"

"Ma'am we don't deliver food."

"I know I just-he's going to be hungry and I can tell you what department he works for and maybe someone could run it up to him real quick."

She pulled open a binder from her desk, sighing heavily. "Can I get his name and your name?"

"Oh, um, his name is Spencer Reid, and mine is but I don't work here I'm-"

"Here. You're already a registered visitor."

She handed you a clip on badge with Visitor printed on it in big bold letters. "Give that to security, then elevators are to the left and there's a directory on the wall. Have a good day."

Before you could even argue she was dismissing you and addressing the person in line behind you. So you forced your feet to move and head towards security. You felt like a fraud walking amongst agents and other government workers, and you kept your gaze down to avoid eye contact. After your purse got checked and your visitor badge got scanned you shuffled to the elevators.

You paused in front of the directory on the wall, squinting at the dozens of names listed. Where the fuck was the BAU?

You must've looked as confused as you felt, as someone stopped beside you.

“Ma'am? Do you need help finding something?"

You turned towards the voice, coming face to face with a kind-looking older man.

"Oh! I do actually, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course, what department are you looking for?"

"Um, the BAU?"

"Well I can definitely help you there."

He pressed the elevator button and the two of you waited for a moment before the doors opened and the elevator emptied. He gestured forward and you gave him an appreciative smile before stepping in. He followed along with a few other people. It remained quiet as the elevator rose and stopped at occasional floors, people getting in and out.

Eventually it stopped at floor 6 (totally making this up idk) and the man announced this was the stop.

You followed him off the elevator and onto a floor that was still busy, but nearly as much as the lobby. Straight ahead, down a little hall, were a set of glass doors with BAU printed on the front. You chewed on your lip as you stared the door down, contemplating.

How were you going to casually drop Spence's lunch off without creating suspicion? You couldn't exactly just walk right in and hand it to him without people questioning who you were.

"Can I help you find anyone in particular?"

"Oh no that's okay, you've helped plenty. I don't want to keep you from your business."

"Please, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't help?"

This was so not the plan. But what other option did you have? You hadn't accounted for this scenario, you were positive you wouldn't make it past the front desk. But now here you were, and you needed to make sure this food got to Spence. Plus it probably wasn't smart to aimlessly wander around an FBI building. With your luck someone would think you were a terrorist or something. And you were not a terrorist.

"I didn't think you were, but my confidence in that is now wavering."

Oh my god. You said that last part out loud. To an FBI agent.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, I did not mean to say that out loud. I swear I’m not a terrorist. I have this terrible habit of saying dumb things when I’m nervous.”

Could this get any worse? All you wanted to do was drop your boyfriends lunch off and now you were talking about terrorism with an FBI agent.

To your relief, the man just chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve heard plenty worse. Now who are you looking for?”

At this point you were ready for the earth to just swallow you whole and you were deeply regretting ever leaving the apartment.

“Spencer Reid,” you said simply as you held up the bag in hand. “I have his lunch.”

“Spencer? He’s just through these glass doors, follow me.”

At this point, you didn’t care who saw you. You didn’t care that it sounded like this man knew Spence, and may or may not think you are a terrorist.

You just wanted fo give Spence his lunch and get the fuck out of dodge.

Following the stranger through the glass doors, you found yourself in a much quieter area. The entrance led out onto a catwalk from where you could see clusters of desks below you and a little coffee bar against the wall.

"I'll just set the lunch over here-"

"(Y/N)?"

You looked up at the voice and found your boyfriend standing below you at a desk, a concerned look on his face. He left the group of people he was standing with and jogged up the steps towards you.

"Hey, is everything ok? Did something happen? Are you ok?" His eyes were wide with concern, words coming out fast as he glanced over you. His hands automatically reached for yours, something the two of you did without thought.

"I'm fine, my love. You just forgot your lunch," you held up the paper bag. "I tried to drop it off at the front desk but the lady just gave me this pass and told me to bring it up. Then I almost got lost but this nice guy stopped and helped but I was so nervous I accidentally said something about terrorism and I know I shouldn't drop by unannounced but I also know how cranky you get when you're hungry and I-"

"(Y/n)," he cut your anxious rambling off, smiling in relief that everything was ok. "Thank you."

You smiled back up at him, relieved he wasn’t upset. "You're quite welcome. And I must say I feel so official with my badge even though I absolutely do not belong here."

He laughed. "I think you fit right in."

"Well I-"

"Reid?"

You both froze and became suddenly re-aware of the current setting. You looked up at your boyfriend with wide, worried eyes.

Spencer sighed, though that dopey smile of his remained on his face. "I think our secret is out."

He intertwined his hand in yours and together you turned towards the voice. Standing with varying looks of confusion and smugness were a group of people you recognized as his co-workers.

"Who's this?"

Spencer cleared his throat. "Um, guys this is… my girlfriend."

You gave a hesitant wave, trying not to shrink under the intimidating gazes. The office was quiet for a moment, before someone else burst into the room

"Did Reid just say girlfriend?!"

"That's correct, babygirl," one of them spoke up. "Pretty boys got himself a girlfriend."

The blonde gasped, before rushing forward and grabbing you into a hug.

"It is SO nice to meet you!"

You laughed as you hugged her back.

“It's lovely to meet you too, Penelope. All of you.”

She released you and you turned towards the rest of the team.

“Spence is always showing me pictures and talking about you guys, I hope you understand us wanting to keep it quiet for a while. But I've been really looking forward to meeting you."

A man with a stern look in his eye stepped forward, holding out a hand. "Aaron Hotchner," his eyes seemed to soften as you shook his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

That broke the rest of the team out of this trance and they all gathered forward to formally introduce themselves. You shook everyone's hands and giggled as they ogled at the fact that Spencer had caught himself a girlfriend.

You learned, with a laugh, that the man who'd helped you find your way was in fact David Rossi, one of Spence's coworkers. I’m your anxious mess you hadn’t recognized the man.

You explain to everyone that you were just dropping off Spencer's lunch, but you weren't getting away that easily.

Penelope and JJ convinced you to stay, and you all spent the lunch break sitting around a conference table chatting. Hearing stories about Spence on the job had you cry laughing and you happily indulged his friends in some stories of your own.

The entire time Spencer kept a tight hold of your hand, smile never wavering as he watched his favorite people laugh together.

His family.

[norrisleclercf1]

Come Home To Me

Pairing: Lando Norris x Long distance!Reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: None, just fluff, Lando cries

Words: 2.3K

Requested: Yes/No

Long distance was always challenging. But what if you're dating someone who rarely stays in one place long enough. What if they're traveling from country to country every year, and when you can visit, he can't? Love is supposed to give its challenges, but this was a challenge you are losing, and this wasn't something you wanted to happen.

You have been dreaming of living in America for school, but you never once thought you'd meet a boy and fall in love with him, much less travel the world after him. Meeting him was a dream. You went to Dubai on vacation with your friend, a terrific wealthy heiress. It was after finals, and you were in a club, unaware of what was going on, much less than a trendy sport was in town for the end of the season.

When people flooded the club you were in, you danced and danced before stumbling to the bar. You proceeded to spill your drink all over this guy at the bar. He laughed, telling you it was okay. You couldn't ignore how he was so light-hearted and easygoing. Even covered in some alcoholic drink, he made you laugh and danced with you.

When your friend was ready to go, you waved bye, but he stopped you and grabbed a marker.

"Call me." Winking, he sends you off. Waking the following day, you don't remember much except those brilliant eyes, goofy laughter, and his curly hair. Looking at your arm, you smile, seeing what he had written on your arm. Lando, call me. With his number followed after it.

It took you almost a year to figure out who he was, as he never told you his last name. You honored that, as he did tell you he was famous and wanted you to know him, not the guy he shows off to the world. You found out who he was when your friend Vivian, who took you to Dubai, brought you to something called Formula 1.

Her father was a big wig in the sport and decided to give you two paddock passes and explore the city. Thankfully it was a break, and you walked around the fancy town of Monaco. Vivian has an apartment in the city and told you, you could stay with her.

"Honestly, Y/n, stop worrying about why the guy hasn't answered you. All you have told me is his name." Vivian whined as you just smiled at your phone. "Viv, he's famous, and I don't want to ruin anything." You explain, but she rolls her eyes, worried.

"Okay, come on, let's go. I'm starving." You agree and head to the private hospitality for the drivers, bosses, and those who are big names.

"Do you even know any of the drivers?" You ask Vivian, who shrugs as she is more into business, set to inherit her father's business when she graduates. "Nah, many of them have girlfriends, but there is one charming Ferrari driver." Both laughing, you walk into the air-conditioned building and head to a table.

"Hey, can we order a burger or something?" Viv looks up from her menu and nods. "Yeah, they can make things off the menu, but I agree this is all so fancy." Slapping the menu down, she takes a sip from her water.

Your phone pings, and you must fight Vivian off from grabbing your phone. Seeing the notification, you blush, as is it from Lando.

Lando: sorry, super busy for the next couple of days; I miss you; we should see FT real quick.

You: I wish I could. I have no privacy because I'm at some super-rich sport event for the weekend.

Lando: Really? What super-rich sport and where?

You: Oh, something called Formula One. I'm in Monaco

Read

You stare at your phone, wondering why he has left you on read, but you just shrug and place your phone down. Placing your order and talk with Vivian about your upcoming classes and her latest boy toy.

"Fuck, that's my Charming Ferrari driver and his friends." Vivian chokes on her water which has you turning. You don't know who she's talking about, but you notice a particular person wearing a bright orange sweatshirt. "Viv, the guy in the orange sweatshirt. See him?" You ask, facing her, trying to control your emotions. "Oh, yeah, Daddy told me about him. Lando Norris. Oh, he shares the same name as you-" She stops talking as you stare at one another.

"Holy fuck, no." She whispers, leaning closer. "Did you know?" She asks which has you slapping her arm. "Of course not!" You hiss, running your hands over your hair. "He never told me his last name, and every time he visited me at Uni, we met and did lowkey stuff." You whisper before you both freak and throw your menus up as Lando and 3 other people sit beside you.

"What do I tell her?" Lando sighs, fixing his hat to wear it backward as you and Vivian throw on your own hats and sunglasses so Lando wouldn't recognize you. "The truth." You hear a slap, and someone curse in Spanish.

"Oi! You lied to her, not me. Why are you slapping me?" "Because Carlos, we've been talking for almost a year, and I want to ask her out, but...what if she's mad I lied." Lando mummers. "Just call her, and tell her you are in Monaco too. Not that hard." The man named Carlos explains.

It's silent until your phone blares out the ringtone that Lando had set for you when you last saw him. You and Vivian try to turn the phone off with hurried hands, but it doesn't work.

"Y/n?" You screw your eyes shut and lower the menu locking eyes with Lando. You don't even think as you grab your bag and rush out, leaving Vivan behind, who yells after you, and Lando, who stands staring after you, the phone still pressed to his ear.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was 3 months of barely talking when Lando finally showed up at your apartment when Vivian opened the door with just a towel and messy hair. She about died when she called for you. "Hurt her again, or lie again. And I'll have my father destroy your career." She threatens as you come into view.

You looked how you felt, hurt and sad. You had no right to feel hurt, but you still did. Sad because your heart ached from barely talking to Lando, and he looked the same as you. Eyes red, hair messy, and just downright miserable.

"Can we talk?" You nod and point to the couch as Vivan hurries down the hall and closes her door, but she was totally listening. "I wanted to tell you, just never thought you'd show up at a race." He rushes out, ripping his hood off as you blink, trying not to cry.

"I have no right to be angry, Lando. You told me you wanted it to be a secret, just....maybe a part of me hated you couldn't tell me who you are." Lando nods as he swallows thickly and clears his throat. "I hated not talking to you. I've missed you like crazy. Watching you run and me not chase after you was....horrible." With a sigh, you wipe a tear and clear your own throat.

"I've missed you too. This not talking thing was painful, and I never should've ran. I was embarrassed, and your friends were all there. I panicked." Lando laughs slightly and rubs his hands down his face. "They've been giving me hell about that ever since. That's why I'm here. Go out with me?" You blink at him and then laugh.

"Yes, but right now, we tell each other everything. No more secrets." Lando nods and moves, sitting beside you as you spend the entire night talking.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you coming to visit soon?" Lando asks, voice sleepy as the time zone between the both of you was brutal. Didn't help he was traveling. "Lando, I have finals and then graduation. I can't." You sigh, walking through a sea of people trying to reach your area.

"Fuck. I hate this!" He curses, making you flinch at his tone. You both had this argument occasionally, as Lando wanted to move to Monaco with him while you were applying for your Masters's program. "Lando, calm down. I know you want me in Monaco, but we agreed that night that I would chase my degree and decide where to settle down." You reason making your boyfriend sigh heavily in your ear.

"I know. I know. But, I want you to come home to me. I hate not seeing you, touching you, just being next to you." You want to roll your eyes but can't help the smile tugging on your lips.

"Even if I moved to Monaco, you're traveling half the year anyways." This has Lando groaning as this was how the argument ended each time. "Okay, how was your day." You look up, hand over the paper to the woman before you, and continue as you find your seat and settle. "Fine. Hey, Lando. I've got to go. The class is about to start, so talk to you later. Bye!" You hang up before he can tell you he loves you and sighs, looking outside.

"Ma'am, the train is about to leave." You look up at the pretty woman who smiles and nods, ensuring your bag is secured. It would be a 4-hour train ride before you showed up to surprise Lando and give him the good news. "Thank you." The lady smiles and walks off, checking on the other passengers.

The ride was somewhat peaceful, but Lando kept trying to Facetime with you, but you didn't want to give away where you were. So you kept hitting ignore and then just decided to turn your phone off. When you hear the squeak of the wheels stopping, you look out and see the familiar buildings of Monaco and the ongoing construction. Gathering your bags, you shuffle off the train and into the warm sun, smiling.

Keeping your phone off, you start the walk to Lando's apartment. Max wouldn't be around, and he was in London visiting family, so it'd just be you and Lando. The walk was peaceful, as it was a break for Formula 1, so not many fans were wandering around the city. You type in the code and hope it doesn't alert Lando to you entering his building. Turning on your phone, you wait patiently for it to power up.

You giggle, seeing all the notifications from Lando, and click on his face as that familiar ringing tone fills the silent elevator.

"Are you mad at me?" Not a hello or hey baby, but him asking if you're mad at him. Sometimes you forget that while Lando is successful inside, he's still like any insecure 20-year-old trying to understand life. "No, Lan. I'm not mad. I just turned my phone off to get some work done." Lando sighs and then laughs and looks away and smiles. "Sorry guys, it's Y/n." That's when you notice his headphones are on, and he is most likely streaming.

"Are you streaming right now?" You ask, laughing as you get dropped off at his floor, walk to his door, and stop outside. "Yeah. Say hi!" He turns his phone as you wave, knowing people can barely see you in his camera. "Where are you right now? That doesn't look like your dorm." Turning the phone back around to face him. "Oh, I'm home." You smile and hit the doorbell, which you hear through his phone, and he turns around, confused.

"No. No, you are not." He drops his phone, and you hang up, waiting at the door. You laugh, hearing the pounding on his feet and the door thrown open. "Stop." He whispers and moves, crushing you in a hug as you drop your bags, hugging him back. "I'm home." You whisper into his neck.

You pull away and can't help but laugh, seeing Lando with tears in his eyes.

"Baby? Why are you crying?" Wiping his tears, he sniffles and hugs you tight, burying his face in your neck. "I've missed you. Fuck, you have no idea." His words are muffled by your neck as your hands tug his curls slightly, and fingers cradle his neck. "Well, I have some news." Lando pulls away and nods but helps you into his place.

"Give me a second." He whispers and kisses your cheek before going into his gaming room to turn off the stream. You get settled and sit on the couch, holding an envelope. Walking into the room, he stops and eyes the envelope.

"Are you pregnant?" You snort a laugh, shake your head no, and watch him sigh in relief. "I mean. If you were, I'd marry you here and now, but I'd like to wait before we have kids." He explains, but you just let him ramble. "Lando. Stop." He stops talking and stares at you, unsure how he should act. "Just open it." Placing it in his hands, he flips it around and carefully peels it open.

"Y/n L/n, we are please to welcome you to the school of Paris International Affairs and-" He stops and takes a deep breath trying hard to not cry again. "And can't wait to welcome you in the fall." He stops and looks up at you.

"I'm moving to Paris. So, I'm a 4 hours train ride instead of flying. I graduated early, so....." You smile, and he laughs, leaning over and kissing you. "So, you have the rest of spring and summer to be here with me." You shake your head in agreement which has him tearing up again.

"You're home." He whispers and pulls you into him, holding you like you'd disappear. "I'm home."

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 2

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 3

The waves hit the boat gently as you wait for the sound of people to get quieter. Once the cawing of birds is the most prominent sound, you jump out of the boat onto the shore. You walk up Amakane Island and keep your head low as you pass by stalls and people.

You get to mask stall which is thankfully empty at the moment. A jagged fox mask with the lower half missing and gold accents catches your eye. You put it on right as the vendor comes back to the stall.

You smile excitedly at the two men feeling more confident with your identity hidden. The mask showing the bottom half of your face is a necessary sacrifice. Body language is a double-edged sword for lying that you've learned to wield expertly.

"Hello, are you the vendor for these masks? I really like this gold one, I couldn't resist trying it on. How much is it?"

The vendor sees the mask you're wearing and laughs nervously.

"Hello dear customer but I'm afraid it broke when two other customers were fighting over it. You could come back tomorrow, and I could give you a mask with that same color or you could pick a different mask now."

You skirt around the offer and distract him with more questions. It's not like you have any mora to pay with. Your tone is sympathetic and sweet.

"I'm sorry to hear that happened. If you don't mind, I would like to know why they were fighting over it."

"Well as everyone knows, gold is heavily associated with the creator and that happened to be the last mask. The Yashiro guard that usually stands guard is escorting them to the prison."

"Oh, I see. Actually, do you mind answering some of my questions? You see I'm a traveler and I like to listen to stories about the creator. Each region has their own variations about the creator so I'm curious about Inazuma's!"

Your smile is bright, and the man seems to perk up at your words. He begins explaining about acolytes, praying times, the creator's image and even more.

Simply put the playable characters are acolytes and it's a high honor if they have been awakened. Which is a fancy word for saying that you pulled and won them.

No one knows the creators real name meaning you can still live on as Y/N. They believe that after creating the world you were now resting inside a different world. That now that you were awakening acolytes, you would be arriving soon.

It's when he mentions sacrificing that you feel dread pool inside you. This is a cult; you have a fucking cult. Ironic how Ei almost sacrificed you to yourself.

After getting all the information you needed from the man, you walk away. Still wearing the mask without paying for it. The vendor will probably realize in a little while, but you would be long gone by then.

You look back at your boat wondering how you could get rid of it. Ei saw it meaning that she'll be able to recognize it as long as you have it nearby.

You look at Byakko Plain where a teleport waypoint should be. If you could get to it, activate it then your plan of discarding the boat should work.

As you walk across the sand and soft waves from Amakane to Byakko you see 3 treasure hoarders and a nobushi. Right in the middle and right in your way.

Could you outrun them? Probably not. Fight them and win? Maybe the treasure hoarders but that nobushi is dangerous. Your only choice is to retreat and have one of your acolytes defeat them. It felt weird referring them like that but this whole thing is bizarre.

Just as you turn around, you hear them yell. The nobushi pulls out his sword, a treasure hoarder takes out throwing knives, another a crossbow, and the third uses a paddle.

You have no choice but to fight. Gritting your teeth, you skid across the sand to avoid getting hit by the knives and arrows. The nobushi sprints and slashes his sword to hit you at the same time the paddle treasure hoarder rushes after you.

You jump away just in time to see them hit each other instead of you. The sword stabs the paddle guy right in the stomach and the two other treasure hoarders freeze at the sight. The nobushi pulls the sword out unfazed.

The two treasure hoarders watch in horror as paddle guy coughs up blood and falls to the ground.

"What the hell man?! Why would you stab him like that?!" The treasure hoarders start yelling and aiming at the nobushi. The nobushi glares at them and starts walking toward them. The blood on his blade glints in the sunlight and you try not to think about the blood that is splattered on your shirt.

Using the argument between the nobushi and treasure hoarders, you pick up the paddle. The nobushi will probably kill both treasure hoarders and attack you again.

It's better to take out the nobushi and fight the treasure hoarders then run away. As you sneak up behind the nobushi, the treasure hoarders see you and stay silent.

The nobushi prepares to swing and cut down the treasure hoarders. It exposes the back of his neck, and you swing the paddle hard. Your hit lands and the paddle breaks from the force.

The nobushi falls to the ground leaving you exposed as you pant from the strength needed for the blow to be effective. The treasure hoarders stare at you in some shock as they tremble from their life so close to being over.

"So, uh truce?" You offer as you stand up straight. They look at their weapons and look back at you. Their hesitance unnerves you and you drop the broken paddle remains. They get a dangerous glint in their eyes now that you're unarmed.

You smile and pick up the nobushi's sword in a flash. Pointing it at them, you spoke with a drawl.

"Which do you think is faster? Your shitty aiming knives and arrows? Or this sword that's almost as tall as you?"

You touched the teleport waypoint as you watched the treasure hoarders run away. That sword was heavy as hell and only the adrenaline coursing through you in that moment gave you the strength to lift it so easily.

You held a small bag of mora, an old handguard, and 3 treasure hoarder insignia. You opened the bag that you got from the house you woke up in. You put it all in and close the bag. You didn't expect that enemy drops would still exist. The blood on the materials stained your hand and left you a chill.

Watching the teleport become gold you open the screen and open the map. You click on the first teleport waypoint you opened on Kannazuka. The same one where Ei found you.

There were two options, both had the words 'teleport waypoint' but one was gold. You pressed the gold option, and your vision went white.

Pressing your hands to your eyes, you open them slowly. It actually worked. You teleported to Kannazuka island. In a daze you walk to the waverider and summon the boat. You open the screen and teleport back to Byakko Plain.

Your eyes close automatically as you teleport. When you open them again at Byakko Plain, you look to see the boat gone. Pushing down the relief at it working, you try to remember what you needed to do next.

The cold wet feeling of blood on your clothes was creeping you out. Plus your clothes were so unique that Ei could definitly recognize you from it.

You pace the path as you think. The small amount of mora you put in your bag was all you had. But how much could a shirt, pants, and shoes cost? A potato was like 100 mora so the price should be around 4,500 mora. And even that's the least amount it can cost.

You open your bag to check the mora and instead of seeing inside the bag, a screen is there. It's the same screen you see when you open your bag in Genshin.

Well at least you won't have to worry about weight or food expiring. But unlike the bag you have in Genshin, this one is nearly completely empty. So, it's not connected to the bag you have in your account.

You look to the bottom and see 108 mora. You select the insignia and handguard. You try to trash them to see if you can get any mora from that. The game warns you nothing can be recovered, and you cancel the trashing.

Maybe you should just steal? It's your only option at this point. No one would be willing to accept help from a bloody masked stranger, nor will they accept 108 mora as a down payment. You really wanted to avoid stealing more than this mask. Clothes take a long time to make considering how the technology here isn't as advanced.

You trip over something small and pointy almost falling face first into the ground. You catch yourself and look to see that it's.

"Ushi?"

The cow moos at you and before mooing at a group of people running towards you.

"BEEFCAKE!"

Itto runs and picks Ushi up in a twirl nearly smacking you in the process. Kuki and his boys catch up as they breathe heavily. The only thing you can think as you watch Itto baby Ushi is.

'Dear god the game did not do him justice.'

Itto is huge, as tall as the nobushi you fought, and his muscles are nowhere near as flat as his game model.

"Boss, be more careful! You nearly hit them when you threw Ushi!"

Kuki scolds Itto as she points at you. Itto stops and looks at you in surprise seeming to finally notice your existence. Putting Ushi down Itto ruffles your hair and laughs.

"You mean this kid? C'mon if Ushi didn't nearly hit them, something else would."

"Sorry about him, he'll call anyone shorter than him 'kid'."

"It's fine, the bull, uh Ushi, you called him? Didn't hit me."

"Either way sorry about that compadre, but it's a good thing it didn't hit you. As an acolyte if he did hit you, you would probably be six feet under."

As gruesome as Itto's words sound, his actions are the opposite. He has an arm slung around your shoulders and a bright smile. Kuki who is usually more composed seems to be smiling judging by the crinkle at the edge of her eyes.

"Wow, you're an acolyte? Makes sense, a lot of vision users are. My name is Y/N, what are yours?"

Itto perks up at that and releases you. He stands in front of his gang facing you. The sun makes his red horns glint as he spreads his arms animatedly.

"I'm Arataki 'The One and Oni' Itto! I have many names but for time's sake I'll skip them this time to introduce you to the Arataki Gang."

He points to each of his members as he introduces them. "This is Shinobu Kuki, my deputy. She has a permit for everything - literally everything and is also an acolyte. Ushi is the auxiliary member; I call him Beefcake. Akira, Genta, and Mamoru are my boys and have been some of the longest standing members of the gang."

"You mean the only other gang members."

Shinobu corrects him. Spinning around to face her Itto shushes her a comically number of times. Not very quietly he whispers to her.

"Hey, hey don't ruin it for me. A new person is the best to get to join the gang."

Those words make you perk up as you watch Itto continue whisper-yelling at Shinobu. Honestly you wouldn't mind living as a member of the Arataki gang. It's not a criminal gang like the one you were in, in your old world. In fact, it would be even more fun than a normal job.

But there's no way you were staying in Inazuma with Ei hunting you down. You need to steer the conversation away from this into something more productive.

"Sorry if this is rude to say but are your horns real? This is my first time in Inazuma, so I've never seen anything like it before."

Itto abandons Shinobu's side to stand in front of you and comb his hair back with a proud grin.

"Indeed, they are real. Guess you didn't realize my clever wording in my title as the 'One and Oni' Itto. I'm a red oni and the best one there is!"

"That's why you have those red markings right? Plus, your clothing and accessories have all those horns too. So cool!"

Your voice heightens in a way that is similar to a fan. His reaction is just what you wanted. With a smile he juts out his thumb at himself as Shinobu shakes her head.

"Glad to see you recognize my awesomeness! Go ahead and praise me some more!"

"Don't encourage him anymore or else we'll be here for hours."

"Relax Shinobu, an amazing oni like me wouldn't let them stay out here for so long. C'mon Y/N we'll lead you to the city!"

Rubbing the back of your neck, you look down as you sheepishly admit.

"I don't think I can go in with clothes like these. Some treasure hoarders and a nobushi attacked me on my way to the city. So now my clothes are all cut up and dirty."

"What?! That's horrible, I swear if I see them, I'll-"

"Calm down boss, let's get them a change of clothes and then you can go after them."

Shinobu also seems a bit pissed at your story, interesting.

"We should have a spare uniform with the other materials, right? We can get the clothes along with the materials."

"But what if they got hurt? We can't have them walking like this! Akira, Genta, Mamoru! I'm gonna need you three to get the supplies and the old uniform. Shinobu and I will keep our new friend Y/N company in case anyone else tries attacking them."

You inwardly sigh in relief at not having to walk. Your heels still hurt from the electricity.

The boys hesitate as they give you a glance. Unlike Shinobu and Itto who seem to have an instant liking to you, the boys are unsure. Shinobu tries to explain to them.

"I know boss gets scammed nearly every time something like this happens, but I have a good feeling about Y/N. It's like I've meet them before, almost like an old friend."

The boys nod and leave feeling more assured with Shinobu on your side. Itto pats her back with a grin.

"You explained it almost as well as I would have."

"But maybe you should have gone with them. It'll be difficult to carry all those materials by themselves."

"Ah, have more faith Shinobu. They'll be fine. The shrine will look great."

This talk of materials and a shrine give you an inkling of what they're doing but you question them to be sure.

"By shrine, do you mean you're making a shrine for the creator?"

"That's right! It's almost the anniversary of the creator awakening the traveler, so we wanted to do something special. But it'll take some time for the boys to get back with the stuff. Why don't we have some fun in the meantime?"

That smile on Itto's face turns competitive as he stares down at you. It's infectious and before you know it, you have the same grin.

"What game are you suggesting? It would be fun to try an Inazuma game. You'll probably need the extra help of it being familiar too."

"Oh hoho! Shorty's got jokes! I'll take you on in any game. But since you want something Inazuma style then beetle fighting is the obviously best choice!"

Shinobu sighs affectionately as she watches Itto explain how beetle fighting works to you. She can't help but feel drawn to you and Itto feels the same way.

You find a huge purple reddish beetle and carefully carry it to the stage Itto set up.

"That's a good one Y/n, seems like the beetle likes you."

Shinobu comments as you bring it into view. The beetle moves in your hands as docile as a lamb and you pet the hard shell.

"That's great to know. Hope you won't be too mad when I beat Itto's ass."

"As if, just be prepared for him to challenge you to a 100 more matches."

"He wouldn't actually do that right?"

Shinobu adjusts her mask as she stays silent.

"Right???"

She only laughs as Itto bounds up to you both holding a good-sized purple beetle.

"I can tell this little guy has a beetle fighting spirit like no other! Be prepared to lose Y/N!"

With both beetles on the stage, the fight begins. Or that's what you would think if Itto's beetle wasn't immediately defeated.

You give your beetle a nice pat for a job well done as Itto picks up his beetle shocked.

"Alright, I lost that time, but this next round will be different. He just got stage fright is all."

Another round goes and you win again. Itto challenges you again and surprise, surprise you win again. This loop goes on and on until the boys arrive with the clothes and materials.

You cheer tiredly as Itto finally stops challenging you to help his gang with building the shrine. You pick up your tired beetle and hold him close to you as you watch them begin building.

Itto's beetle pinches your leg lightly to get your attention. You smile at the purple beetle and hold him too. Now out of battle the two beetles are friendly with each other.

"Never again Shinobu, that was at least 35 rounds."

"37 actually but hey, who's counting?"

You chuckle at her words and watch as she takes the uniform from the boys. She walks back and hands you the clothes.

"There's a small stall right on the outskirts of Inazuma City. You can change there."

You look at where she's pointing and thank her before going to it. You enter it and take off the mask. After changing clothes, you look at yourself in the mirror.

The outfit itself was Inazuma style with near unnoticeable patches. You never imagined you would be wearing clothes like this in Teyvat. Putting on the mask and looking back into the mirror, you feel more like a part of this world.

Was it because without it you would be hunted? Were you just able to disassociate better with it on? Or were you truly so isolated from the person you wished to be, that living with a mask and an altered identity was more comfortable?

You shake off those thoughts and leave the stall. You get back to where the Arataki gang is building the shrine. Your shrine. And sit beside Shinobu who is supervising to make sure they don't accidentally kill themselves.

You casually chat with Shinobu slowly bringing the conversation to the topic you want. You finally get to say the sentence that will serve as information bait.

"Actually, I'm trying to find a boat to Liyue. I want to keep exploring."

As much as you would love to stay in Inazuma a while longer to look around, Ei isn't the only one you were worried about. Yae, Heizou, and Ayato were all threats in their own right.

They're all good at sniffing out lies and mysteries. And you happen to be the biggest one, especially with this mask.

But Shinobu never got to reply to your comment as Sara approaches you all. Her stare is intimidating as she glares at Itto. Her voice has that same crisp professionalism that you remember her for.

"What is it that you all are doing here? The residents are complaining that your noise is distracting from their daily activities."

Itto gives an annoyed huff and stands up to face her.

"Me and the gang are building a shrine, thank you very much. I never do anything to attract more trouble, seriously what do you take me for? Like obviously I am the trouble, duh."

The way Sara examines the half-built shrine is similar to a stranger looking at a little kid's art piece.

"At least you're doing something productive for once. Despite that, you still need a permit to build one."

Shinobu sighs and stands up. Sara examines the permit from Shinobu before handing it back to her. Just as Sara was about to leave, she finally notices you.

"And who is this? You didn't drag them into your shenanigans, did you?"

The accusatory tone in her voice directed towards Itto made you smile but Itto's sputtered defense was what made you laugh. Sara watches you before approaching you.

"What is your name? I don't think I recognize you as a local or as a frequent traveler. I'm Kujou Sara, general of the Tenryou Commission."

"It's nice to meet you Sara, I'm Y/N. This is my first-time visiting Inazuma."

You smile innocently at her knowing how strict she was at her job. She went silent before saying.

"Your hair, your jaw shape even your smile is so similar to the creator."

Your heart drops when you hear that. Shinobu and Itto look at you too, they can see the resemblance. But your smile stays on your face with ease.

"I've heard that before but thank you for the compliment. Being similar in those features is a blessing."

Your tone is wistful like a shy admirer. Sara's suspicions seem to ease but she becomes curious instead.

"Where are you originally from? How often are you compared to the creator? Were you born with those similar features or did your face naturally change into it?"

With each question Sara gets closer and closer. Her tone has a rare curiosity and just a hint of reverence. It was a good decision to be wary of the cult and all the acolytes. It seems like most of them would react the same way Ei did if they saw your face.

"Your presence. If I'm not wrong, it feels exactly like how the creator would control us."

Her tone becomes cold and as you had no time to answer any of her questions, the suspicion has tripled.

You jump back as lightning flashes right where she was as she retreats a step. She stares at you waiting for your answer. Shinobu and Itto seem to fade in the background as you stare at Sara.

They all want answers. Answers that you don't have. The truth will only be seen as a lie and what lie could you possibly tell them that-

Oh.

That could work. Yes, it can definitely work.

You sigh and turn your head to the side while lowering it a little.

"I was hoping to keep quiet about this longer until I was sure of it but if you insist then I should tell you all the truth. Especially Itto and Shinobu since they've helped me out a lot."

You spin a story on how you woke up with little to no memories at a little shrine near Ritou. You rest your cheek on your hand as you recall how you heard the most beautiful voice state that you were now the creator's oracle. How you were told that you were not going to be controlled but be a way for everyone to communicate almost directly with the creator.

As you finish, they all stare at you with in slight suspicion but no hostility. You smile to yourself as you realize that they are willing to believe. That they could be convinced of your lie.

You play with your hands as you solemnly tell them that you understand that they may not believe you. That the creator even warned you of this being the most likely possibility.

Your smile is gentle, and your voice is a little hopeful as you explain that by communicating with the creator you could prove your status as an oracle.

"Prove it. Show us that you are truly the chosen oracle of the creator."

Sara says firmly.

"I want to believe you Y/N and I hate agreeing with Kujou chicken but I'm serious about the creator. I'll need to see this proof too or else I'll having to actually knock you with Beefcake as revenge for lying by using the creator. I speak for Shinobu and the gang."

You can see Shinobu roll her eyes at Itto's theatrics, but she doesn't interrupt. You smile and nod your head.

"Of course! Using the creator like that is blasphemous. I just need a small shrine to pray in private. If anybody sees or interrupts me, it could make the process go wrong."

Sara accepts that and leads you to a small temple in the middle of Byakko Plain. Which most definitely did not exist when you were still just a player.

You walk inside and stare at the murals that decorate the walls. It's you, undoubtedly so. Some are beautiful, while others are hauntingly sad. You can't help but let your eyes linger on the mural of you embracing a crying Thunderbird that was slowly becoming a Thunder Manifestation.

Probably Kapatcir, the Thunderbird that bonded with Ruu on Tsurumi Island. You never bothered to really memorize this kind of stuff but perhaps being the creator has made you automatically recall everything.

Sara leads you deeper into the temple until you stop at a alter. The altar itself is beautiful. A cobblestone base with Sakura, Amur Maple, and even some Otogi wood used to make the structure of it.

It reaches almost as high as the ceil and the trees wind around a statue of yourself. The statue depicts you with a peaceful expression and clasp hands.

You try to ignore the blood stains that cover the base of your statue. You go into a kneeling position and clasp your hands. Sara leaves the temple and it's only when the light from the door is gone that you relax.

The candles around your altar keep the temple bright and you open the screen.

You already know from experience that simply telling them private information will just lead you to be more suspicious. Instead, you switch out their weapons. From fully leveled weapons to dull blades, you close the screen.

You leave the temple and head back to where the gang and Sara is waiting. You hear the sounds of Itto trying (and failing) to challenge Sara to a rematch as you get into view.

Shinobu sees you first.

"Y/N! Did you finish praying?"

You nod with a gentle smile.

"I did and they answered my prayer. As we know, the creator can really only affect the acolytes so please take out your weapons."

"Gladly, I mean their grace gave me a wonderful fully upgraded Whiteblind that makes me even more powerful than I already am!"

Itto summons his weapon and holds it over his shoulder in a pose. Yet in his hands is a level 1, one star, Waster Greatsword. Shinobu sighs and breaks it to him.

"Boss look at your weapon."

"What? Why would I? It's fine, the creator gave me it before they even- Oh my archon, this isn't my claymore!"

As Shinobu and Itto squabble, Sara looks at the Hunter's bow that she now has. It's so unlike the Sacrificial bow that she normally wields. She feels weak with it, like the creator deemed her unworthy of their gifts.

Looking back up at you, she speaks with a small sadness that doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"It seems you are telling the truth. I apologize for doubting you. There has never been anything on an oracle appearing, so I was suspicious. Could you please pray and ask-"

"Y/N! You have to speak with the creator again! There's no way I can wield this hunk of junk. Not when I know that my great Whiteblind that was given to me by the creator is somewhere out there."

Itto shamelessly cuts Sara off. You laugh and reassure them.

"Don't worry, I'll pray and ask them to change it back. It was only temporary after all."

You leave quickly to the temple and change the weapons back. Shinobu didn't bother taking out her sword, but you still gave her, her correct one back.

You get back in time to hear Sara announce her departure to see Ei.

"I must report this to the Almighty Shogun. The existence of an oracle could mean a great deal of things. Including the chance that the Almighty Shogun can inquire the creator through you as to why she has not been awakened yet."

You didn't pull for her before and you certainly won't after how she chased you. Ei could even take you awakening her as a sign of approval of hunting you.

And there's no way you can let Sara tell Ei about your existence yet either. You would be seen as suspicious due to being found on the same day the 'imposter' was found. You needed a firm reputation as the oracle before you could ever meet Ei again.

"And I have to stop you from doing that. You see there's a reason the creator wants to keep my oracle status quiet. The creator wishes to not only see the world but all the acolytes naturally. Lumine is a famous traveler, people naturally act differently around her. But I'm not well known so everyone's true or normal attitudes are revealed to me. They want to see them as their truest self and warning the Electro Archon beforehand will go against the creators wishes."

Yes, it contradicts how you want people to be aware of you being an oracle, but it's works better than you would expect. Sara is too devoted to go against the creators wishes so she'll stay quiet. Shinobu is trustworthy and will keep quiet to please the creator.

But Itto and the gang? They'll either boast or let it slip easily. Anything that is told to stay quiet or secret almost always gets spread even faster. And since no one would dare speak to Ei casually nor will she actively look for information, Ei will still be oblivious. Only Yae could possibly let Ei know and you plan to be gone by then.

Sara keeps her head down as she speaks.

"Our truest self? Truly, the creator thinks far ahead than anyone else. Can I ask you a favor? How does the creator view me? I treated you with suspicion when you were only doing the creators will. Is that my truest self?"

You reach out your hands and grasp both of hers. She seems so sad and resigned that you can't stop yourself from using your title to speak plainly.

"Sara, the creator has seen you and your truest self is not what you believe. They see just how devoted you are to the Electro Archon and to them. The way you take your job seriously to protect the people of Inazuma, how you do your upmost to preserve their will. They wish that you would grow more when it comes to your emotional state, but they love seeing you take pride in your work. There is nothing to fear."

The way you tilt your head makes it obvious that you're staring directly into her eyes. Your skin, your hold on her hands, that piercing but warm gaze. Your features so similar to the creator. It's like she's looking at the creator in the flesh.

"Your grace..."

Sara whispers before jumping back as you're pulled away from her.

"Hey! Stop hogging Y/N! Weren't you going back to your boring workplace? If you're gonna stay any longer than you should just agree to my rematch."

Itto is holding you by the back of your shirt lifting you above the ground as he glares at Sara. You wanted to laugh at his clear jealousy.

Sara grits her teeth in annoyance.

"I was just conversing with Y/N, but I will be on my way now."

With that Sara leaves with Itto putting you back down as he stomps his foot like a kid.

"That stupid chicken, why did you hold her hand? You could have just held mine, I'm way stronger!"

"Didn't she beat you in a fight?"

"Well yeah, I admit that, but she always refuses a rematch! She's too chicken to accept it because she knows she'll lose!"

"Boss the shrine is done!" "Let's go get the offerings now." "Maybe some candles, candy, and lavender melon."

You struggle not to fall as Itto drapes his whole arm on you. He turns to his boys with a grin as Shinobu helps you escape his grip.

"Good work boys, we'll get the best stuff."

You walk with the Arataki gang as they gather stuff to offer. Sometimes they ask you which one is better to offer since you can communicate with the creator. It's not like anyone will believe that you, a scrappy lying human is their beloved creator.

You smile and shamelessly pick anything you like. You were the creator after all, this totally wasn't self-serving in the slightest.

Taking it back they light the candles and offer the gifts. There's a rare moment of silence as you all pray to the shrine. Well at least they were, you were too busy trying not to fall asleep from such a busy day.

It's only when you are eating roasted lavender melon with them all that Shinobu speaks on topic you needed.

"I almost forgot, Y/N, you planned to leave Inazuma right?"

"What!? You're leaving already? Why?"

Itto's whiny dramatic voice made you smile.

"I'm not leaving yet; I don't have any transportation. I'm following the creators will. As the oracle it's my duty to spread the creator's thoughts and feelings. It's my honor to be one of the bridges between the creator and Teyvat. While Lumine is used to let acolyte be awakened, I am used to communicate."

Itto groans before sighing.

"Fine fine, I understand. You know what? I'm such a great oni that I'll even bring you to meet a guy that can help you. Pretty kind of me, right?"

Perfect, a possible transportation to escape Ei.

"That does sound great! I would love to meet them."

You can basically see Itto's ego grow with every word you say. Before Shinobu can say or do anything Itto lifts you up onto his shoulder. His hand holds you steady as he laughs at your panic.

"Then what are we waiting for? Feel free to admire my greatness as we go to see my guy."

Shinobu waves sympathetically as Itto hauls you towards Inazuma City. He asks you loads of questions about the creator and how they view him.

"Do they think I'm great? Am I their favorite? Of course, I'm their favorite, I am Arataki 'Numero Uno' Itto after all. Just look at me."

"They think it's funny how you always find a way to accidentally consume bean products."

"Oh god no, don't even mention beans. I can't believe they saw me in such a weak moment."

"They also wanted to whack every human who threw beans at you with a beehive to see how they like being allergic."

"You're not lying about that right? Cause that's the best news I've ever heard in my whole life!"

It's fun, the whole walk with Itto was fun. It's even better than you imagined being in Genshin would be like. You wanted to continue living like this. But the looming threat of Ei hanging over your shoulder seemed to stain your mood.

Your hand brushed against your mask. It's a reminder that you probably can't ever live your life here without it. It's still a cult that may attack you at any time.

With that grim reminder, dread pools in your gut as Itto leads you closer to Thoma.

Oh god, oh fuck if it's Thoma then it's Ayaka and if it's both its Ayato. And Ayato could definitely figure you out. Maybe you'll be fine, not everyone that meets Thoma will eventually meet Ayato.

"Thoma! My bro, my guy, my dude. This is Y/N, and they need your help getting a boat to Liyue. They're a super sick oracle for the creator and got a big mission to follow the creators will."

Shit. That one little word is repeated in your mind as Itto keeps talking. You were right about how saying 'it's a secret' makes things spread faster but you didn't want it to happen while you were still here! Thoma has a smile frozen on his face as he listens.

"I'm sorry they're the creator's oracle? I really mean no offense, but this is quite hard to believe."

Thoma smiles sheepishly while Itto pushes you in front of him to face Thoma. There's no point in trying to remind Itto to keep your identity on the down low. Holding out your hand you speak cheerfully to Thoma.

"Yeah, you aren't the first acolyte to not believe me. It's understandable since I'm the first."

Thoma shakes your hand, it's a little hot but not burning. It seems visions really do affect their bodies.

"How did you know I'm an acolyte? I'm just a simple housekeeper for the Kamisato Clan."

"Like Itto said, I'm an oracle. The creator grants me knowledge needed to meet and communicate with everyone."

"Well, I'm sorry Y/N but there's no way I can help you with your identity as an oracle so, sorry to say, suspicious."

It makes sense, Thoma while being a nice guy is loyal to Ayato and Ayaka first and foremost. It's one of his key defining traits and that also means he's loyal to the creator too. Itto tries to convince him by retelling how you switched the weapons, but Thoma doesn't believe it.

"Okay if I tell you information that only very few people know that can prove that I'm truly an oracle, will you help me find a boat?"

"Alright but I have very high expectations. I refuse to help someone that might be using the creators title to trick people."

"To the public knowledge, Lord Kamisato was awakened and then you were awakened. But that isn't the truth. That was a switcheroo Lord Kamisato made to avoid enemies using the truth against the Kamisato Clan. You were awakened long before Lord Kamisato but had to stay quiet about it per his instructions."

Thoma looked at you with slight suspicion. Only Ayato, Ayaka, and Thoma knew about this, yet you a stranger did. But he just couldn't shake off the nostalgic feeling you gave him.

"That's honestly really shady but I can't deny that you're impressive. The only people that know about this would never say anything unless they really trust you."

He smiled kindly like you always seen him do in the game.

"I'll honor our agreement and help you find a boat."

Itto cheered at Thoma's agreement and waved goodbye as you and Thoma left. The gang caught up and started walking to God knows where as you and Thoma walked through Byakko Plains.

"An oracle huh? That does explain why the feeling of being awakened seems to surround you."

The grass swayed as the moon rose higher in the sky.

"All you acolytes tell me that. I can't feel it myself, but it sounds amazing."

"It is, like being embraced by the creator themself. Do you truly not remember much about yourself or your life before becoming an oracle?"

The butterflies dance with the fireflies as the sound of hilichurls dancing can be heard faintly.

"Other than my name, my bag and the clothes on my back, I truly had nothing. My only knowledge of Teyvat is the one the creator shows me through dreams, visions, and stories."

"This must feel like a whole new world to you then. But you're adapting quite well. Would it be presumptuous to ask what the creator thinks of me?"

The path splits to two at Konda Village and Thoma leads you to the right. Nerves prick at you as remember that Ritou is on the left. Where is he taking you?

"A malewife."

"A what?"

"It must be some slang from their world. But it isn't an insult from what I've gathered. In fact, I think it's a compliment."

Thoma blushes a little as he stares straight ahead. You turn your head to hide your smile at his cute reaction. Chinju forest surrounds you as you pass under a red gate and walk along the stone path. You really hoped he wasn't taking you where you think it is.

"But if you want a deeper answer, the creator sees you as a loyal person. As kind and helpful you are to others, it's your fierce loyalty that keeps their eye on you. It burns as bright as your flames."

His eyes shine at your words as he looks up at the sky wistfully. The moon seems to reflect in his eyes.

"Do you mind if I tell you something a little personal? I just feel comfortable with you so easily."

"Go ahead."

"When I still lived in Monstadt with my mom, my dad would send me letters from Inazuma. My parents had their differences, but they never failed to speak so highly of the creator. His letters always ended with a reminder to look for the creator in my hard times."

His words made your shoulders heavy. With guilt or responsibility? You don't know yet. You could only take some solace in the glowing blue flowers of the forest.

"When I left Mondstadt to find my dad, I took a little boat and sailed with a bottle of wine. It's a miracle I didn't die. It was the creator's grace."

You remember reading that part of his character story. It was a shame he never found his father nor the bottle of wine.

"When I was on the boat as the storm raged and it was falling apart at the seams. All I could do was pray, pray that I would somehow survive. When I woke up, I was on Inazuma. My lord and lady were the ones who found me and took me in. That's why I gave them my loyalty just like I gave my loyalty to the creator."

You're standing at the front of the Kamisato Estate when Thoma stops and smiles at you. His eyes were almost closed with how hard he was smiling.

You could tell he was happy, you wished you could feel the same. Because at that moment all you could feel was relief. Relief that you wouldn't have to feel responsible for all their misplaced faith.

You were not a God; you did not save them. But if they knew the truth that you were their beloved creator, you don't know if you could actually tell them that.

"Thoma..."

You trail off, not wanting to lie in such a personal moment. You clutch the strap of your bag. Thoma looks at you with gentle eyes patiently waiting for whatever you have to say.

"The words I'm gonna say right now are mine, not the creators. Even if you didn't sail to Inazuma and almost drown. Even if you didn't meet Lord and Lady Kamisato. I still fully believe that you would be just as great and loyal to whoever you chose. A friend, a lover, even if it was an animal. Anyone would be lucky to have someone like you care for them. You, yourself even without that vision is just as incredible."

You start off softly but feel a rise in your pace as your words come together. You look up at him and smile brightly. All your teeth show, and you feel that happiness he displayed earlier.

Thoma sucks in a sharp breath as his heart rate speeds up. His face burns for reasons he can't seem to comprehend. Why did your words have such a strong effect? How do you look so ethereal with the moonlight shining on you?

A guard calls out to you both from the top of the stairs.

"Thoma?! Is that you?"

You peak past Thoma to see a guard walk closer. Before you could see Thomas's face, he turns his head around clears his throat.

"Hey Hirotatsu! This is Y/N a special guest I brought to meet our lord and lady. Depending on how the meeting goes, they might become more than just a special guest."

His words remind you of your situation. He brought you to Ayato and Ayaka. You'll have to lie and use all sorts of tricks to survive with your life and identity intact. You hope desperately that Ayato doesn't ask you to take off the mask.

Thoma turns to you with a apologetic smile.

"I know this isn't Ritou like you were probably expecting but I promise you. If you can prove your oracle status to my lord and lady, they'll provide you with the safest and fastest way to Liyue."

His smile turns almost sad as he says his next words.

"I'm sure you understand why it's important for me to make sure that you travel in a safe boat."

You know what he's saying. You know that this is technically emotional manipulation. But damn it, he's looking at you with warm eyes and a nervous smile that makes you want to pinch his cheeks. You were weak in this area.

"It's fine, I'm no fake. I'll prove it to them just as I proved it to you and everyone else so far."

You speak with casual confidence and face the stairs that lead to hell. Ayaka wasn't the issue, she's sheltered to a degree that you could spin a tale and have a good chance of escaping. But Ayato? That man believes few things and trusts even fewer.

A pleasantly hot fingerless gloved hand takes yours heating you up. Thoma leads you gently up the stairs. You follow him like a moth to a flame knowing that you're close to being burnt to a crisp.

Something to add is that if Y/N changes things that happened or says something that doesn't align with what happened. It was completely intentional. I just don't want to write "You lied, you paraphrased etc at almost every dialogue. I'm riding on my creative high and taking full advantage of it. Plus, I'm finally almost done getting used to writing again. I loved all your comments, reblogs and hearts! And my taglist is open to whoever wants to be in. Just leave a comment and I'll add you.

Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma If you are in italics that means I couldn't tag you! Usually you'll need to check your settings to fix that.

[acewritesfics]

Hopelessly In Love | Tommy Shelby

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Sarcasm, teasing, two idiots in love.

Word Count: 1,821

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

“I need you," Y/N hears from behind her and turns around to see her best friend standing there, looking exasperated. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N. I sincerely hope your day is going well,” she begins sarcastically as she finishes hanging her mother's latest shipment of dresses on the racks.

Y/N works in her mother's boutique. A boutique in Small Heath sounded ridiculous considering the surroundings but her mother had opened the store, claiming that women needed a nice place to shop among the smoke and grime. “Well Thomas, it’s going so well that I’m sure nothing will bother me for the rest of the day, even when my best friend storms in like some neanderthal claiming he needs me like it’s a matter of life or death.” 

Tommy stood there, his hands in his pocket, looking at her unimpressed, his brows creased into a frown. A smug smirk stretches across her face. 

“What can I do you for, Tommy?” She asks, moving back behind the counter. 

“I need you to go to the races with me,” he tells her removing his hands from his pockets and stepping closer to the counter.  

“What? Has Hell frozen over or is it finally the day women have stopped throwing themselves at Thomas Shelby’s feet?” She teases her childhood friend. “Oh, Tommy, it must be hard,” she says pouting, giving her him a look of false sympathy.  

“Shut it, you,” he glares at her, elbows resting on the counter as he leans forward. “I’m being serious.” 

“Why do you want to take me to the races?” She questions him. They hadn’t been to the races together since before the war. It was sort of their tradition, one that was so easily forgotten when the war was over, and Tommy had thrown himself into making a better name for the Shelby’s. Instead of making the name better, he also made it fearful. “Why don’t you take that pretty barmaid you seem so smitten with. Or Lizzy, who’s more than eager to have a proper date with you.” 

“Why should I take them when I can take you, eh?” he asks, watching her as she busies herself with the clutter on the counter. She looks unsure but Tommy can tell that she’s thinking hard about it. “What are you afraid of?” 

“That you’ll forget all about the barmaid and fall hopelessly in love with me again,” she quips with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just like when we were kids. You could never resist my charm and we don't want to break the barmaid's poor treacherous heart.” 

Y/N couldn't deny that she did like Grace, the barmaid Harry had hired, at first. She seemed lovely and got along quite well with her until she realized Grace was asking her a lot of questions about Tommy. At first, she thought the blonde woman fancied her best friend and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Grace wasn't the first woman to end up with a crush on the blue-eyed devil. Tommy wasn't hard to fall in love with. But when she started asking her about the Shelby family business and the Peaky Blinders, she became suspicious that Grace's interest in Tommy wasn't as genuine as she made it out to be. And then there was the time she caught Grace eavesdropping and snooping around. She began to put two and two together. 

An Irish inspector and a pretty Irish woman, step foot in Small Heath at the same time. The barmaid, who's never actually worked in a pub before now, conveniently gets herself a job at the Garrison, the pub the Shelby Brothers frequent often and just so happens to set her eyes on the leader of the Peaky Blinders.  

She'd tried to talk to Tommy about it, but the stubborn man wouldn't hear any of it so she went to Polly who had also done the math. For a man who claimed to be smart, he became the stupidest idiot she's ever met when it comes to a pretty face. 

“I knew that love tea would have consequences,” he smiles thinking of the times they sat with his mother while she did what she called magic. He purposefully ignores her comment about Grace. He didn't want to talk or think about her right now. His sole focus is on convincing Y/N to go to the races with him, like old times and how he'd promised her all those years ago. “Maybe it’s why I never stopped being hopelessly in love with you.” 

"Don't tell Grace that," she says looking back at him before moving on to inspect the next dress, a pretty deep forest green with black beading and a black lace hem. 

"Fuck Grace," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "This is about us." 

"There is no us, Tommy," she sighs and moves on to the red dress that's not as pretty as the green.  

"Just come to the races with me," he begins. "I haven't taken you in a while. Let me take you again." 

"Do I have a choice?"  

He shakes his head, "No." 

She looks at him, her brows creased into a frown showing her frustration.  

"Wear the green one," he adds, dropping £7 onto the counter.  

"It's only worth £5," she informs him, knowing there is no point in arguing with him. Once Tommy was set on something, there was no stopping him. 

"Buy something to go with it," he suggests. "Maybe some new shoes," he adds as he takes the dress off the mannequin and hands it to her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek before he starts making his way out of the store. "I'll pick you up at 8:30 tomorrow morning." 

"I despise you, Thomas Shelby," she calls after him. 

"And I love you, Y/N L/N" he says when he reaches the door and turns to look at her once more. "Hopelessly love you." 

Her smile goes from ear to ear this time as she watches him leave, with a slight shake of her head. She turns to go back to the counter to wrap the dress up and startles when she sees her mother standing there, a knowing smirk on her lips.  

"It's about time that boy made his move," her mother says, taking the dress from her and folds it neatly on the paper they use to wrap the clothing in. "Better late than never, I guess." 

"It's not like that, Mum," she says picking up the £7 Tommy left and placing it inside the till.  

"Of course, it is," her mum argues, walking towards where the shoes are and picks out a pair of black t-strap heels, to match the beading on the dress and brings them over to the counter. "Thomas Shelby has been in love with you since you were both five years old and you've been in love with him for just as long," she adds placing the shoebox on the counter next to the dress. "Don't waste any more time, Darling." 

"I do love him," she admits. "Some days I wonder why." 

"And you'll have plenty more of those days," her mum chuckles. "Now get out of here and go rest up for tomorrow."  

"I love you, mum," she says hugging the woman who gave her life.  

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"I must admit, I did miss this," Y/N says, sitting across the table from Tommy as they sat in the VIP area of the racecourse, in the forest green with black beading dress he paid for and heels her mother picked out. 

After a successful day at the races, they made their way up to the VIP lounge where they got a drink, a meal and did some dancing. Tommy was unable to keep his eyes off her from the moment he saw her standing on the curb waiting for him to pick her up. It made driving a little difficult since he tried his hardest to concentrate on the road and not the beautiful woman sitting next him. And then when they got to the races, he glared down, silently threatening the men who dared to let their eyes linger on her.  

"Do you remember the first time we snuck in here?" he asks her, a soft smile on his lips. Leaning back, he watches her as she thinks back to it.  

They were 16 at the time and she had come along with him, his brothers and his father. He'd been to the races plenty of times before, but she'd never been until that day. They both got dressed in their finest clothes back then, which were nowhere near the standard of clothing they were in today. Tommy had tried to talk his way into the VIP section, using that silver tongue of his that he had been born with. Unfortunately, it didn't work, and they had found a space in the back that they could use to sneak into the elegant area reserved for the wealthy.  

They'd spent 10 minutes in the area before they were escorted out and off the grounds of the racecourse and were made to wait there until his dad returned from being inside. That night Tommy had made her a promise. 

"I promise that one day, I will buy you the prettiest dress and we'll go back there, and they'll let us in. When they do, we'll spend the night dancing and when I take you home afterwards, I'll kiss you goodnight." 

She feels her heart skip a beat as she remembers word for word what he had promised her. As she got older, she had always played it off as a silly childish promise that held no real meaning.  

Tommy stood up from his chair and moved round the table, standing beside her as he held his hand out towards her. "Let's go home, Love." 

Y/N takes his hand and stands up, grabbing her clutch off the table and lets him lead her back to his vehicle.  

Once they arrive at the passenger's side, Tommy decides he can't wait until he drops her off home. Stopping her from getting into the car, he pulls her close, a hand on her waist and the other caresses her cheek. 

"Tommy," her voice comes out as a whisper as her heart jumps into her throat at the little space left between them.  

"I can't wait," he breathes, his voice soft as he plants his lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss. Both their eyes flutter closed as a rush of warmth envelopes them as they pull each other as close as they can, deepening the kiss. 

Tommy is the one to end it when they start to become breathless. "I am hopelessly in love with you." 

"I know," she says, unable to hide her grin as she kisses him again. "I am hopelessly in love with you too, Thomas Shelby." 

TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - @goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @rainydayteacups - @alexxavicry

To join my tag list, fill out this form: TAG LIST SIGN-UP

[bitterchocoo]

Hi if possible a part two to the Wriothesley fic?

https://www.tumblr.com/bitterchocoo/731525542873055232/who-is-he

This one. But if not then maybe a Gallagher and reader as Wriothesley. Maybe Wriothesley reader is like a significant other.

The Duke of the Fortress of Meropide

Gallagher | M. Reader as Wriothesley [Genshin Impact]

----------

"Word of advice: Don't break the law."

----------

The Bloodhound Family are in charge of Penacony's security. But.. that wasn't always the case. As an inmate climbed the ladder and became the Head of the Fortress of Meropide. Penacony's underwater prison.

This caused some uproars.

How could someone like that be in charge of the Fortress? Shouldn't it be a member of the Bloodhound? And someone with a criminal record nonetheless? Is this truly the right move? Has the Family went insane?! But it's true. Someone like that did indeed became the most respected man in the Fortress.

----------

"Bartender! Could you give me one glass of Glorious Hour?"

Immediately recognizing the voice, Gallagher turned his head towards the voice and was met by none other than the Duke himself. Letting out a chuckle, he replied. "Oh! Your Grace, fancy seeing you here!"

As far as he knows, the man is always in the Fortress, he never really went out. Always so busy... but look at him now! Suddenly showing up at Dreamjolt Hostelry!

"Well many of my new inmates were fighting in this very place, so I figured I should give this place a shot, see what's the hype is all about."

"Oh so you're saying that you're investigating then? What? Are you trying to shut this place done, Your Grace?"

"Maybe."

The two broke into loud laughter as it echoes through the establishment. Their playful banters never gets old. No matter how many times they've done it. It never fails to being out a laugh or two. The atmosphere of the place is as lively as always. It's a nice change to the usually gloomy underwater prison.

Calming down from his laughter [Name] gave Gallagher a bouquet of flowers that he had bought prior to his visit. With a charming smile he says. "It appears I forgot to bring my wallet, will these flowers do?"

His eyes widened for a moment before letting out a chuckle, taking the bouquet Gallagher examines them and couldn't help but smile at the thoughtfulness of the Duke. He rarely leaves that damn prison and yet when he does, he never fails to make it special. "I'm terribly sorry, but we don't accept flowers as payment." Gallagher replied teasingly.

Raising a brow at the other's words, [Name] asked as he put his hands together and his elbow on top of the table. "Then what do you accept?"

Putting the flowers aside, Gallagher then put his hands on the table and leans forwards, their face only a few centimeters apart as he answers with a teasing grin. "I believe you knew the answer to that, you're a regular after all, Your Grace."

Letting out an amused laughed, the Duke spends no time to close the gap between them as the other let out a hum of approval. Savoring the sweet taste, the two soon pulls away.

"Alright then, one glass of Glorious Hour coming right up!"

"On second thought, give me something bitter. You were simply too sweet and I'm afraid I might get sick if I continue to consume anything sweet~"

[asliceofzosan]

in which Zoro takes the blame for not paying for the food at the Baratie (sequel to Sanji witnessing the riceball incident in Shells Town)

Ribeye steaks piled one on top of the other, a massive helping of mashed potatoes with boatloads of gravy, salads, soups, and fancy dishes with names Zoro can't pronounce — all made up the massively long order list that he knows Luffy has not a single Berry to his name to pay with.

Zoro looks around the place, tuning out the story of the giant goldfish that Usopp has told them before, his eyes resting on the blonde waiter flitting about and flirting with every woman at every table.

Sanji was his name. Zoro didn't recognize it. But when he arrived to their table and saw Zoro, it looked like their resident waiter recognized him. Zoro's reputation in the East Blue is not a laughing matter, so it didn't bother him at first. But the way Sanji stared at him, wide blue eyes and with a touch of a smile on his lips, told Zoro that there's something a lot more than recognition swimming in that man's head.

He can't put a finger on what it is exactly though. It's driving him crazy.

"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

Sanji turns to him and nearly steps back in shock. Zoro quirks an eyebrow, confused and a little annoyed. He wore his best clothes today (Captain's orders). And he's pretty sure he even took his mandatory once-a-week bath before they went inside (Nami's orders). Still the waiter looked at him like Zoro had grown a second head. Like he couldn't quite believe his eyes.

"Maybe there really is something wrong with your eye," Zoro muses, crossing his arms as Sanji quickly straightens his posture and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Got a problem with me, waiter?"

Sanji coughs out a laugh. Zoro notes with narrowed eyes that there is the slightest tint of pink coloring his cheeks. Is he blushing? The fuck?

"None at all, sir. I think I was just seeing things." The look in the waiter's eyes betrays his statement but Zoro chooses to say nothing. With a practiced smile, he turns back to Nami and asks her how she'd like her water that makes Zoro stare at him this time like he's grown a second head.

"And um..." Zoro is surprised Sanji hasn't left yet and is once again directly addressing him. "We have a few specialty riceballs not on the menu today. I'll bring them out... on the house."

Without even explaining what the fuck that meant, Sanji turns on his heels and beelines straight for the kitchen.

"I think Nami's boyfriend might be yours too, Zoro." Usopp teases him with a snicker and the glare he gives him is sharper than the blades of his swords.

Now, here Zoro is, letting Ussop's words affect him more than they have any right to as he downs his third bottle of beer.

The specialty rice balls haven't come out yet. Zoro's starting to think it's just a sick joke. But he doesn't let it get to him. Or tries to. Why offer free food when you can't deliver on it? Fucking ridiculous. And no, it's not like he suddenly craved rice balls when the blasted waiter mentioned them. That's not it at all. Bullshit.

"Didn't the waiter said he's coming by with rice balls?" Zoro finally snaps and the conversation his crew was having died down immediately at his statement. Ah fuck. He probably should have just kept his mouth shut because Nami was now looking at him with a shit-eating grin not entirely unlike the one he gave her when he teased her before the meal.

"How would you like them, oh great swordsman?" She teases with a glint in her eye. She cups her cheeks with her hands in delight at the irritated snarl Zoro gives her.

"With or without seaweed?" Ussop chimes in.

"Cubed or crushed?"

"Fuck off," Zoro hisses between his teeth. Nami and Ussop share a look before bursting into laughter. Zoro looks over at Luffy who was swinging his feet and obliviously sipping his milk. When Luffy makes eye contact with him, he just tilts his head with wide blank eyes and it makes Zoro question all his life choices.

"You wanna ask him?" Luffy says, already clamoring over the booth and waving at the object of Zoro's unexplained irritation. Zoro sinks into the seat as Sanji approaches with the bill for their meal.

"Your bill, sir."

"Zoro's asking if you're gonna bring the rice balls you promised." Zoro just stared up at the ceiling and thought of a million different ways to cut a hole into the floor so that the ocean could take him.

There is a headache inducing silence that follows Luffy's question. Zoro can't help but finally look at the waiter and he doesn't know how to explain the feeling that bubbles up when they make direct eye contact. Maybe it's indigestion. It's probably indigestion.

Instead of bringing up the damn rice balls, Zoro just grabs the tray with the bill from Luffy's hand. Just as expected, his annoyingly endearing captain put down an I.O.U for the ridiculously long list of food they ordered. Several possible scenarios could happen from this. And Zoro doesn't want to think about Luffy wreaking havoc in someone else's kitchen.

With a deep sigh through his nose and a knowing look at Nami, Zoro wrote down his own name in place of Luffy's.

"Zoro, what—" Luffy almost took the bill back when Zoro stood up and handed it directly to the waiter, who looked just as dumbfounded as the rest of them.

"If your head chef's got a problem with that, he can talk to me directly. Tell him that for me, won't you?" Sanji takes the bill, reads what's written, and there's a phantom lurch in his chest that happens when Sanji looks up at him and smiles. Zoro doesn't want to describe it. He'll allow himself to firmly believe that it's a side effect of eating too much food. It's indigestion. You're just constipated. Never mind that the feeling is most prominent in his chest and not his stomach.

"Of course, sir." Sanji purrs and the sound runs like a cold river down Zoro's spine. There's a hint of mischief in the gleam of his visible eye. Every instinct in Zoro tells him it's dangerous. He should take his crew out of here, onto the Merry, and run.

But he stays rooted to the spot, wrist limp on the hilt of his sword, as he watches that damn waiter walk away from him.

"WHO THE HELL IS RORONOA ZORO?!"

The steady routine of washing the dishes helps quiet Zoro's racing mind.

It's a very welcome distraction. The clinking of the ceramic against metal utensils provides a cacophonous symphony that helps drown out all of Zoro's waking thoughts. The sooner he starts to think, the sooner he starts to notice how that stupid fucking waiter has just been sitting at the table behind him, cursing Zoro with his mere presence.

Scrub scrub scrub...

"You sure you don't want any help?"

Scrub scrub rinse...

"No."

Scrub rinse dry...

"I really have nothing better to do."

Zoro's eye twitches.

"Good for you."

A long silence follows this and Zoro thinks the waiter finally gave up. That was until...

"Are you still mad about the rice balls?"

"Oh my god!" Zoro nearly slams a pile of dishes onto the floor. He turns to Sanji, who is just casually smoking at the table, and stomps over to him. Once he was right in front of him, Zoro snarls at him, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Talk about those damn rice balls one more time, I'm gonna chop your head clean off for them to use in tomorrow's ramen stock."

Sanji blinks, then turns his head to the side to blow smoke away from Zoro. Zoro tries to convince himself that he isn't staring at the way Sanji's lips purse around the cigarette in the process.

"I can still make you the rice balls," Sanji says without a single ounce of fear in his body. "I just couldn't do it while the old man was around." He then stands up and steps around Zoro with a practiced grace. "Are you willing to wait ten minutes?"

"I'm not hungry," Zoro hisses but his stomach betrays him with a loud grumble. He's been washing dishes for so many hours. He probably missed dinner.

Then, as Zoro straightens his posture, Sanji does it again — he smiles and Zoro doesn't know what to do.

"Sit." Sanji gently nudges a chair out with his foot. It lands perfectly in front of Zoro at a perpendicular angle. "I'll have them out in five."

"You said ten minutes." Zoro found himself saying, only to be contradictory. Sanji laughs this time and the resulting smile pierces Zoro's heart with a million cursed swords.

"When someone's hungry, I feed them." Sanji says simply and that's the statement that ends their conversation. Zoro still refuses to sit on the chair, instead finding himself gravitating towards the counter that Sanji was preparing his ingredients at and leaning against the marble.

Before Sanji found them at their table, he brought down a marine and a fearsome pirate with just his feet. Zoro was fascinated by his fighting style even if he didn't want to admit it out loud. But he's always been curious. Especially now, with Sanji whipping out the sharpest knives and using them effortlessly as Zoro would wield the Wado Ichimonji.

"You're good with knives," Zoro says before he could stop himself. Sanji chuckles.

"Of course, I am. I'm a chef. Best one in the East Blue."

"What's a chef doing waiting tables, then?"

"Cause I was kicked off the line this morning. It's a weekly occurrence, nothing special." The way Sanji scrapes his ingredients into a bowl betrayed how he felt about it despite his nonchalance. "I can cook better dishes than everyone in this damn kitchen but Zeff refuses to acknowledge that. It's always 'your food is crap', 'slice those carrots thinner', or 'needs more fucking oregano—"

Sanji throws the knife onto the cutting board, its tip now embedded neatly straight down the middle. It stood perfectly still, like it was afraid of what Sanji could do if he added more pressure. Zoro raised an eyebrow, looking up at the now irritated cook with a smirk.

"Sorry," Sanji mumbles, taking the knife and cleaning it carefully with a cloth. Zoro says nothing. He just props his elbow on the counter and places his chin into his hand as he watches Sanji in his element. Eventually, it's down to just shaping the rice balls with his hands and Zoro asks the question that poked at his mind during Sanji's mini outburst.

"If you're so dissatisfied cooking here why don't you just leave?"

Sanji pauses. His head is down, his blonde fringe obscuring one eye as his fingers twitch against the rice ball.

"It's not about that."

"Yeah?" Zoro leans as close as he could get with the counter between them. Sanji still refuses to look up. "A hot-headed cook who claims to be the best in the East Blue settling down here — where he is not head chef — is as contradictory as it gets."

"You don't know–" Sanji snaps but stops himself immediately. He looks up to glare at Zoro through narrowed eyes. "You don't know why I still stay."

"Enlighten me then, cook." Zoro leans his hip against the counter. "Because really, someone as good as you claim to be has got to have some ambitions. Dreams." Zoro holds the man's gaze. "Do you hate the old man?"

"No!" Sanji counters immediately. "The man fucking raised me. I owe him my goddamn life!"

"Owing him your life isn't the same as giving up your life to work at a restaurant that barely lets you cook."

"You don't know shit!" Sanji nearly slams his fist down on the counter, pointing a finger at Zoro with his face beet red. "This restaurant was his dream—"

"But is it your dream?"

Silence. Total utter silence.

Where color is nothing but a dark void of black and grey, a sea of blue greets him from the pages. Vivid pink skies and tangerine mangroves burst to life. All types of fish swim in his mind's eye but if he reaches out to touch them, it certainly should be real. A phantom breeze kisses his cheeks and water laps at his feet. He's drowning but he swims in delight. He's falling but he feels the clouds cushion him with warmth.

There is a vast ocean out there, one that contains delicacies and species from all four seas. Creatures of every kind, spices that have never been tasted.

The All Blue.

In Sanji's world of black and white — he strives to find the one place that's in screaming color.

There are tears in Sanji's eyes before Zoro could comprehend what was going on. But he wipes them away before he can get a good look at him. The kitchen was quiet around them. The only sound peeking through was the faint music from the bar outside. Though Zoro's heartbeat was louder in his ears than his own breathing.

But he could hear each footstep Sanji takes, the scrape of the plate as it's pushed in Zoro's direction, and the click click of Sanji's lighter as he helps himself to another cigarette. Zoro looks down and sees the rice balls presented in front of him — three heaping helpings, all coated in a different topping, all different flavors.

Zoro takes one.

And it's the best rice ball he's ever had in his life.

"I have a dream," Sanji murmurs, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. One glance and Zoro could see that whatever his dream is... it still burns like molten lava in the heart of this chef. "I'd just rather give up on it than die searching for mine."

Zoro swallows, turns around, and takes the cigarette from Sanji. The ashes fall into his palm, its embers dimming as he squishes it between his fingers.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Zoro says, looking up to make eye contact with Sanji. He can see it almost immediately — the longing for something that seems near impossible to achieve, the acceptance that it's hopeless — but Zoro sees it, clear as day, that the flickering flame of hope still shines in Sanji's eyes. That he's just waiting for his sign to let it once again consume his soul in a roaring fire, brighter than even the sun could be.

Zoro wants to see him shine.

"Come meet my captain," Zoro instinctively wraps his hand around Sanji's wrist. Surprisingly, Sanji doesn't pull back. "I think he'd really like to get to know you."

Sanji doesn't protest.

Zoro takes the rice balls to go.

Never waste food.

[obsessedwithceleste]

Reflections

Mattheo Riddle x reader

Interlocked pt 1

Based on this request.

Summary: reflection (n) a serious thought or consideration.

word count: 2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You feel your hands beginning to tremble as you stare up at the large statue of a golden griffin that supposedly lead to the headmaster's office. An owl had dropped a letter on your bed just hours ago summoning you to him, and since then, you had been racking your brain trying to think of a reason for his request.

It was the last day of term before you were to return home for the summer. Most of your friends were in the dorms packing at that very moment, but not you. No, you were standing here, wondering why on Earth you were being called to the headmaster's office.

Your grades were fine, you hadn't gotten into any spats with a professor, or another student for that matter, you hadn't lost your house any points. You couldn't think of a single reason Dumbledore would want to see you. No. That wasn't true you realize. You were one of the names on the list of Dumbledore's Army.

But then why were none of your other classmates being summoned?

Before you could worry yourself any further, you look up at the statue in front of you.

“Lemon drop” you say timidly, not entirely sure that the password would work.

To your surprise however, the griffin lets out a loud grinding sound as it turns slowly, revealing a hidden staircase behind. Taking a deep breath and stealing yourself, you forge ahead, carefully making your way up the winding staircase.

You find yourself standing in a large study, bookshelves lining the walls, and previous headmasters roaming about the grande picture frames hanging above. Peering about, the room appears to be empty as you make your way up to the large desk that is centered in the room.

You didn’t mean to snoop. Well, maybe a little. A handful of seemingly random objects lay strewn atop the dark mahogany, a glimmer of silver catching your eye. Picking up the small object carefully, you find it to be a thick, silver ring embedded with dark emeralds. An ornate letter S carved into the heavy metal.

“I see you’ve taken a fancy to the Slytherin ring,” the raspy voice of Professor Dumbledore states as the man seems to materialize next to you.

Startled, you jolt back from the desk, the ring clattering against the wood as it falls from your hand.

“Professor! I’m so sorry. I hadn’t meant to snoop,” you rush, holding your hands tightly behind your back.

With a light chuckle, Dumbledore picks up the silver ring, a contemplative look on his face.

“Strange things heirlooms. This particular ring belonged to a Salazar Slytherin, you may have heard of him,” he says, a glimmer of mischief in his eye.

Your jaw drops open in shock. The Salazar Slytherin?

“In fact, all of these heirlooms once belonged to the houses of one of the founders.” He continues, picking up a heavy looking silver necklace dripping with sapphires and diamonds to inspect. “Curious that you choose that ring.”

“It just caught my eye,” you mumble. “What are you doing with all these anyway, Professor?”

The old man pauses, considering the jewels clasped tightly in his hand.

“I’ve been searching for something. Or somethings, rather. Which leads me to the reason you were brought here today. It is my understanding that you were one of the students involved with Harry Potter’s, tutoring sessions, shall we say?”

You hold your breath. Here it comes. You must be in some sort of trouble you think as you give a slight nod.

“You must know then, that Voldemort has returned.” Dumbledore states, a seriousness taking over his face.

Again, you nod your head slightly. You had heard what had happened at the department of mysteries obviously.

“And I assume you also know he has a son at this very school?”

Of course. Mattheo Riddle. A Slytherin, obviously, in your class. Mischievous and rowdy, with a reputation for breaking the hearts of girls throughout the school. How could you not know of him?

“Yes professor.”

Dumbledore once again takes a moment to observe you and you shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze.

“You must know, y/n that what I am about to ask next is not to be taken lightly.”

You blink back at the old man, not at all sure where this was going.

“During times like these, it is essential that we gather as much information as possible in order to overcome our enemies,” he explains, eyes never once leaving yours.

“I don’t think I quite understand what you’re asking sir. You want me to become a spy?”

Dumbledore pauses, head tilting as if trying to put his next words together as carefully as possible.

“It would be, quite beneficial, to have someone form a sort of- attachment to the young Mr. Riddle. Someone for example, who isn’t as connected to Mr. Potter, but still dedicated to his cause.”

“Someone like me.” You finish, taking in his words. “You want me to date Mattheo Riddle to gain information for you.”

You can see the glimmer in Dumbledore’s eyes once more as he ever so slightly gives a nod of his head.

“Of course a decision doesn’t need to be made immediately. You’ll have the summer to think things over, though y/n I must ask that this conversation remains private.”

His words churn in your head as you take a moment to truly understand what was being asked of you. If Voldemort had truly returned, this would send you right into the heart of the snake pit. A dangerous position indeed.

“Of course professor,” you mumble, as the old man leads you back in the direction of the staircase.

As you make your way back to your dormitory, you can’t shake the proposal from your mind. It was a monstrous ask for a teenager to become a spy so early in what you were sure was inevitably going to be war. But you were also sure that Dumbledore wouldn’t request this of you unless he was certain that it would be relatively safe. Especially considering you’d be within the confines of the school.

You let out an anxious sigh. You certainly had a lot to think about in the coming months.

Mattheo shivered feeling the cold draft that seemed to be a permanent resident of Malfoy Manor.

After his father’s self-proclaimed abominable travesty at the department of mystery, he had been moved into the manor with the rest of his father’s mindless followers. The only solace he had was the fact that both Draco Malfoy and Lorenzo Berkshire had been brought to reside in the manor as well, the three banding together to make it through the summer.

He sat with Enzo now in the library, the fireplace giving off just enough light for them to make out the small black print on the pages. This is really all life had been recently. Sitting in the library waiting for one of the adults to come calling for one of them before coming back to disassociate.

“He’s calling for you. Father told me to fetch you,” Draco says, from the library doorway, as if vocalizing Matthew’s thoughts. His pale face looked especially hollow, as if he’d seen a ghost- or more likely the Cruciatus curse.

Mattheo let’s put a deep sigh, dropping his book onto the table beside him as Enzo looks at the two with pity.

He despised the fact that his father had returned. Utterly loathed it in fact. Slytherin students at Hogwarts were already pariahs in the halls. But add on the last name Riddle? He was set up for failure, he thought bitterly to himself. And now with the whole Dark Lord nonsense. Mattheo sighed in annoyance.

He knew he should fear that thing that was his father, but honestly, he just couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d spent his entire life ostracized, assumed the worst of, beaten down, what more could the Dark Lord really take from him? He’d already made his life a living hell by simply giving him a name. He just didn’t care.

Mattheo lazily made his way to the Master’s wing of the mansion which his father had quickly taken over, displacing the Malfoys to a small guest room on the opposite side of the house. After placing the blame for his most recent failure on Lucious Malfoy, his father was reveling in humiliating the man in any way possible. He knew it was hitting Draco hard too, but they were too proud to say anything.

Finally reaching the large, perhaps intimidating double doors of the study his father was currently presiding in, Mattheo didn’t even need to knock as the doors flew open, eyes turning towards him.

The usual goons were there. Bellatrix of course, Lucius and Narcissa, Pettigrew, Severus. Even Theodore's father Nott Sr. They all watched in silence as he stepped a few feet into the room.

“Mattheo,” the eerie voice of his father hisses with glee as the boy enters.

“Father.” He replies dryly.

“Just the one I was looking for.”

“Well you did summon me.”

The Dark Lord glared at the petulant boy in front of him.

“Mattheo, dear boy, come closer.”

Mattheo frowns at his father’s request, grimacing at the thought of being anywhere near the ghastly creature. Nevertheless, he walks confidently further into the room, coming to stop directly in front of his father.

It didn’t take long for Mattheo to feel his father begin to try and pry into his mind, scavenging for something, though Mattheo wasn’t sure what. He steeled himself, having become rather familiar with occlumency since his father’s return. It really wasn’t difficult to off-track the Dark Lord, he had tended to see what he wanted to see, but not many of his followers had seemed to pick up on that particular trait.

After a few minutes of this, the Dark Lord seemed to grow frustrated.

“Mattheo, I have a special task for you,” he announces finally, a large grin overtaking his face. “You should feel honored that such a role is being entrusted with you. Do you feel honored boy?”

“Of course.” Mattheo grits out.

In actuality however, he was growing nervous. He knew that Lorenzo had already been tasked with fixing a broken vanishing cabinet at Hogwarts. And Draco- well. Draco had been assigned a task as well. Both seemed impossible. It was only a matter of time before he was assigned a task himself.

The Dark Lord smiled menacingly at his son.

“We want a spy. Someone in Dumbledore’s little army to feed us information about his sacred chosen one.” He announces. Bellatrix lets out a cackle from beside him.

“Father, I’m not quite sure you’ve thought this through. I’m not exactly in the good graces of most of Hogwart’s population,” Mattheo responds, slightly annoyed.

His father’s face immediately turns to one of rage.

“Silence you impertinent child!” He bellows.

“You dare question your master?” Bellatrix screeches. “Let me punish him master. Let me practice on him like I did little Draco,” she begs.

Mattheo frowns at the woman in disgust.

“Silence Bellatrix. All in good time. But Mattheo you will not be the spy, no. I am no mere amateur to the games that Dumbledore will play. No, dear boy, your task is to lure in someone from Dumbledore’s order. Form an- attachment. Seduce them, do what you must and they will spill their secrets. Affection makes one weak Mattheo. Love might have prevented me from getting rid of their savior once. But it will not again. Love makes you weak, and they will learn.”

Mattheo looks at his father with disdain. A ridiculous task, he thought. And definitely something far better suited for Lorenzo who would have absolutely no trouble chatting up some witch. But that’s just the thing wasn’t it. The Dark Lord wanted to see them squirm. Struggle.

“Is that all father?” He asks, growing bored.

The Dark Lord considers the boy in front of him before waving his hand.

“Bring me the Berkshire boy. Bellatrix needs a new play thing.”

God I'm slow😫 idk why this was so hard to write but here we are🫠

tag list: @elsafromcabinsix

[ashen-char]

i say that i hate you with a smile on my face 🔞

ship: amber freeman (scream) x gender neutral reader

warnings: explicit smut so minors get out. hate sex, sex while driving

summary: amber is furious after seeing you with another girl at a party. the only way to deal with her jealousy is to fuck it out of her.

word count: 2700+

By the time the party ends, it's almost 3am. Early hours have always felt so strange to you, so mysterious that liminal time past midnight and before the sun rises. Everything feels slower. Less alive, almost. There aren't any other cars on the street, aren't any lights on in the houses you pass as you make your way back to Amber's.

The radio is off and the streets are quiet. You almost wish that Amber would go right back to yelling at you because at least it wouldn't be this mind-numbing silence. You're so tense, shoulders stiff and defensive, your grip a vice on the wheel.

You had danced with another girl, sure.

Chad had introduced you to some new girl that Liv had befriended and told to come. You can't even remember what her name was. When Liv got roped into a night shift and couldn't go, she'd told her friend to stick to a familiar face.

Really, you think that Chad just wanted to ditch her on you so that Liv wouldn't tear him a new one for leaving her friend while he got wasted. You owed Chad a solid for helping you score a reservation at some fancy restaurant for you and Amber's anniversary after you forgot it, and you didn't see the harm. That was your first mistake.

Amber's expression is unreadable, her grip white-knuckled on her knee as she stares out the window of your car. Speaking first would feel like you lost - you still don't think you did anything wrong, feels that Amber's reaction was way too far. And you're stubborn. But Amber is even more so. And your relationship is more valuable than winning... whatever this is, so

"I didn't do anything," you say for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

"You hear how you sound right now?" Amber snarls, her own shoulders tensing up. "That's what everyone says when they're caught. I didn't do anything," she imitates your voice in a whine.

Mocking you? How mature.

Letting go of her knee, Amber folds her arms over her chest, looking away from you again. You can see her roll her eyes and scoff a “whatever�� under her breath.

You grit your teeth. Possible responses whir through your brain - a joke, an apology, something to diffuse the situation. You know what you should do, know that Amber’s only jealous because she’s desperate for reassurance from you. But God is it exhausting navigating Amber's complex emotions when she doesn't even care if she hurts yours.

Tonight was supposed to be fun for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to go to a party and have a blast, not get into another stupid argument.

Amber hasn't apologised a single time since you two started dating. She hasn't once promised she'd be better like you always do for her. She had yelled at you the second you two left the party, fighting from the porch all the way to the car. She wouldn’t hear you out even once as you were vehemently denying her accusations. You truly believe that you shouldn’t be the one to apologise. Not this time.

So this time, you don't do that. Your hand reaches out, sliding over to the passenger seat until you're grazing Amber's thigh. "What did you think you saw me do, huh?" you say.

“What are you-”

"You think I touched her?" Your fingers trail their way up. The fabric of her leggings is thin, so you can feel the heat of Amber’s skin as you caress her inner thigh. It’s a tease, a war of nerves, wondering when the other will give in. "Like this?"

Amber's still worked up, blood still pumping; the adrenaline from the argument is rushing through her veins. But you know that no matter how pissed off she is at you, there’s no way she’d push you away. You swear she actually moves closer.

“You would,” Amber challenges. “You know, if I knew you were gonna be another unfaithful piece of shit, I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you.”

You can tell from her tone that she’s trying to rile you up on purpose. Like she’s enjoying getting under your skin. She wants you as heated as she is so it becomes a level playing field. Amber does this whenever you two have a fight, like she's just waiting for you to blow up at her so you feel as insane as she does about you. You know it's all coming from the same place as the jealousy does. She feels so fucking much about you that she's begging for more. Needs retribution so bad. Needs to feel something.

"Sometimes I swear you start fights out of nowhere on purpose," you say. On her upper inner thigh now, your hand squeezes, almost hard enough to bruise. Your thumb runs up down, up down, never quite getting close enough to where she wants it. "Because you like when I touch you while you pretend to hate my guts."

"You're an idiot. Why would I want you to touch me?" Amber clenches her thighs, holding your hand in place, preventing it from slipping back down. You can hear how her breathing gets laboured. She's too stubborn to admit that she wants you to keep going, but you both know it. She can't help the mix of hatred and lust that fuels her veins right now. "I do hate you. I hate you so goddamn much."

A red light. You breathe out in relief.

Finally, your attention doesn't need to be split between the road and this argument. You can see the smile on her face as she swears that she hates you. Good. That wild look in her eyes tells you that you can be more aggressive with her. Amber loves that. 

Your hand slips up right where she wants it, until you're cupping at her center. Only a thin scrap of fabric separate your fingers from the cunt you love so much. You could do it. You could tear through her leggings and fuck the shit out of her. Amber's legs part for you and you swear you hear her whimper.

"What would you do if I did flirt with her, huh?" you say. "Would you break up with me?"

"Fuck you," she spits, though with her shortness of breath it sounds more like a plead. "I bet you wanted to get her to some spare room. You're desperate enough. Were you hoping to get your fingers wet with some other bitch even when you went there with your girlfriend?"

Her mouth is so filthy. You should do something about that. Amber shouldn't be allowed to talk right now. "What's your fucking problem? I was with you all night!"

God, this is fun. Amber's grinning and her eyes shine, the golden light coming in from the streetlights and making everything glow. You squeeze. The meat of your palm is grinding up against her clit but it isn't enough. Not with all that clothing between you. She moans, clenching her legs once more, needing more pressure there.

"You're my problem!" Amber shrieks.

Fuck.

The second you're about to leap in and devour Amber in a kiss, the light you're stopped at turns green. The car behind you honks and you're forced to turn your attention back to the road. Amber lets out a frustrated groan at that - that stupid honking throwing the moment entirely.

"You know what, screw this," she says. You hear Amber unclick her seatbelt, and before you can tell her to strap back in she grabs your hand.

"What are you-" You barely get the words out before your hand is shoved down into her leggings.

Amber's soaked. She's as sticky and warm as the last time you touched her, and you know just how good she'd taste right now too. It isn't your dominant hand - that one is busy on the wheel - so you actually haven't touched her with this one before. It's unfamiliar territory and the same all at once. She pushes her panties to the side with her own hand but it'll be yours that she makes do all the work.

"Shut up. I need this." A low guttural sound escapes her lips as she finally, finally feels your hand where she wants it. Her head tilts back and you feel her thighs squeeze at that first sharp sensation of pleasure. "Shut your mouth and drive," she practically hisses.

You have to focus on the road. The guy behind you is already pissed from how slow you were to keep driving after the green light, and how Amber had given him the middle finger. He's driving so close behind you know that a single slip up could mean a crash. You're so fucked. Especially your fingers, which Amber is sliding her slit up and down on, collecting her wetness with a satisfying shlick.

"Amber," you try to warn. As hot as this is, you do not want to get into an accident because your girlfriend was just so horny during a fight.

Her mouth hangs open in pleasure as she rubs her clit against your palm. It's so much better when you can feel her. You wish you could turn to look. But you can feel Amber's eyes on you, probably still glaring at you with the same hateful glare she had earlier.

"She wouldn't be this wet for you," she tells you.

The girl at the party could not be further from your mind right now. "I don't give a shit about her," you admit. "God, you're so wet, baby." You can feel your own excitement between your legs, can see how your windows are starting to fog up as both of your breaths heat the air.

She lets out a moan, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. "That's right. Because you're mine." Her nails dig into the flesh of your forearm, a threat to scratch you up if you so much as attempt to move away. 

Your fingers slip inside. Two at once. Amber normally likes to play the long game and build up to more, letting you tease her with one sliding in and out until she screams at you for more. But the thrill of the danger and anger and jealousy is getting to both of you. Her hips grind and wind as she rides your fingers, while your other hand desperately grips onto the wheel as you will yourself to concentrate on the road.

"Say it," Amber breathes out. "You're only mine."

A part of you thinks that'd be no fun. "You should've trusted me," you say instead. It's so much more fun when she's seething. It's like her anger is heating up her insides. She feels different. You curve your fingers inside her and she cries out.

"Fuck!"

"Yeah? You loving my fingers in your pussy?" You wriggle the two until you're pressing at the spot that always drives Amber crazy. But it's clumsy. You never use this hand and eventually it'll cramp up and get tired. You know you're doing your job well when she digs her nails in even harder and her hips thrust. Neither of you give a shit when the car behind you honks and overtakes you.

She's too wound up right now, too far gone. Her mouth twists into a vicious smile that you can't see, but you can hear it in her voice. "Y-you wish," Amber struggles out. "You think you're so good. I'm using you here, not the other way around."

She rides your fingers like that for a few minutes. As you had suspected, the lack of practice means that your forearm is already getting tired. As hot as this is, you can't pump as easily as you could if you were on a bed, not worrying about driving. You can tell that Amber is getting frustrated. Maybe that's making it better.

Everything is a blur of rage and lust until you realise you've driven right past her house. Whatever. You're dying to stop the goddamn car and set Amber right. You slam the brakes now that there's no car behind you to hit, sending the car lurching to a stop. Your fingers slide deeper into her cunt with the movement and it makes her scream.

You pull into a residential side street, one even quieter than the rest. Finding a spot to turn off the engine and throw the car into park is easy enough when your brain is putting I need to fuck her right now over safety.

The second that ignition goes off, Amber is already on you. You slip your tired hand away, the other going to her leggings and slipping them off. Her expression is still twisted in that rage that never quite goes away - she hates you, she hates you, she hates you - but she loves you so much when you shove three fingers into her.

You feel her tongue invading your mouth, probing and searching, while her hands continue to grip and claw at your clothes. It's like she's trying to claim you; she wants to take away all evidence of you being your own person, to take away your control.

"Is this what you wanted?" Amber whispers against your mouth. "Why do you make me feel like? You want to see me like this? Huh?"

It's reckless and out of control and perfect. You don't even care that any second you could get caught. You could lose yourself in this moment, in this golden haze that illuminates your fogged up windshield. The car's starting to sway with your movements.

"How do I make you feel, baby?" Her pussy feels so good as you surge your fingers in deeper. "Tell me."

"Like I'm going crazy," she whispers, her voice breaking a little with emotion. It's too much. It was too much then at the party, when she saw you dancing with some other girl, too much when you started touching her. 

Everything about what you're doing to her is bringing Amber closer and closer to that point of no return. "Like you're making me crave you." Her hips rock against you again, her breasts soft as they rub against you too.

This is Amber making you feel the way you make her feel. When you dance with other girls, when you don't text back for hours, when you forget your anniversary. Every time you brushed off an insult and didn't let a fight escalate, this is what she wanted. How pent up she must have been, swallowing down the rage and accepting your apologies.

Amber whines when your thumb grazes against her clit. Every bit of her feels like it's tingling and she's practically soaking your lap at this point. "I hate you but I can't live without you." Amber sounds like she's on the verge of tears. "It scares and excites me at the same time. I- I've never cared this much."

You keep pumping right back into her, never stopping, only growing more and more intense. Her body trembles but you're holding her. Amber's hands grasp at your forearm again, like she can't decide whether to push you away or pull you in. You don't know what to say. She was enjoying the fight earlier, instigated it even, but she's so vulnerable now.

"You're the only one I want," is what you end up settling on. Your thumb stops those teasing grazes now, rubbing against her clit proper. Her wetness makes it so easy. "And I am yours."

This is what makes Amber shudder and dissolve in your arms. The tension finally breaks and she starts squirming against you, fingers lodged so deep into her body it's like you're grazing at something deeper, body shaking violently. She's so close, so impossibly close, a moment of pure ecstasy that lasts seconds before falling apart in a burst of heat and pleasure.

"You're mine!" This she shouts so loud you'd be surprised if the entire neighbourhood didn't wake up.

You two fall silent for a moment, both taking slow, shuddering breaths. Amber can feel her brain is still short circuiting, trying to calm down; it's like her stomach has been replaced with a ball of fire.

"Still hate me?" you whisper, leaning in to kiss Amber.

"Just shut up, okay," she murmurs, kissing back happily now, her voice still raw from the edge of tears and the intense orgasm that had wracked her body. "Don't ever do that again."

[thegainingdesk]

The Spider to the Fly

Statement of Oliver Barrett, dated 22/05/2023

The rent should have been the first red flag, I know that, but fuck me, have you seen the rents in Dublin these days? Worst than fucking London, if you can believe it. And there's this guy, right, four-story townhouse, twenty minute walk from my new job, says he just wants a tenant to make this place feel less empty, all for a grand a month, bills included. In this market! Too fucking right I didn't question it.

Well, I say a grand a month. One thousand euro and one cent, to be exact. The cent didn't bother me at the time, why the fuck would it? The man wants to add a cent to the rent, I'll give him a cent. Maybe it was to get over some threshold for something, or some tax dodge, or whatever, I didn't know and I didn't care. It was still €999.99 less than I'd be paying anywhere else in Dublin for some damn sight nicer digs. Now though, knowing what I know, after everything that… well, anyway, it bothers me more now. It feels significant. Like those old penny rents you hear about, or something. Something symbolic, and old.

But anyway, there was a cheap room going, in a good location, a good house, it was bloody better than anywhere else I've come across, and I was only in Dublin for a weekend before I properly moved to get everything sorted, so I didn't ask too many questions. So I go to this house, and it was gorgeous. We're talking Edwardian or Georgian or, I don't know, fancy. Some Upstairs Downstairs shit, like there were servants quarters and a coal cellar and whatever a scullery is. I didn't really think about it at the time - again, I'm not really in a position to ask questions - but you usually see houses like that in a row, right? Like terraced? This one was just there. On its own. On a nice street, don't get me wrong, but it was taller than any of the other houses, set back a little, and the style's all wrong. Maybe I thought the rest of the street had gotten destroyed in the Blitz or whatever they had in Dublin, it's not like I know anything about history outside of naming a couple of Henry the eighth's wives.

So I walked up to this great big, not quite right house, and I pulled this rope by the door and it fucking clanged. This wasn't some little ding dong electric doorbell, this was some fucking machinery. It felt like the house was vibrating from it. And while I'm reeling, this Victorian era sonic torture device still going off in my ears, the door swung open, too fast really, faster than you'd expect someone to get to the door, even if they were by it.

I don't know who I was expecting but this guy was hot. Like, something else. I'm talking movie star hot. Fuck, maybe he was a movie star, there's so many movies these days, right? He could have an Oscar for all I know, maybe that's how he could afford the house. I'm looking up at him, checking him out, and I don't have to look up at many people but this guy is real fucking tall, six-six maybe? And rail thin, but in a way that he makes work, he wasn't gaunt or anything just… angular. He had this jet black hair and his eyes were somehow even darker - at the time I probably would have said they were like ink or the night sky or something sappy, but looking back all I can think of is how shark's eyes look. I don't know, maybe that's just me projecting stuff after… well you know, after what happened. And he's just stood there, completely still, but, fuck, I really don't know if I can explain how fucking still this guy was. And that's not me looking back after the fact, at the time I was a bit creeped out. It was like looking at an optical illusion or something, like my eyes couldn't put together this guy that I'd just seen open a door in double-speed with how fucking still he was now. It was like someone had pasted a photo into the middle of my vision. And even though he was so fucking still, there was this, I don't know, this tension to him, like I could just see some energy there, ready to… fuck, I don't know, pounce. Like a tiger or… well, like a… but that's for later I guess.

Anyway, I'm checking this guy out, because he was sort of giving me the creeps, sure, but he was also fucking hot, and suddenly he wasn't so still anymore, and he’s looking me up and down and he's smiling and I'm starting to feel like this guy's checking me out right back. I don't know if you're gay, but there's this look, right, every gay guy knows it, this discrete little up and down, maybe with a little smirk and it just says, you know, "I'm gay, you're gay, let's fuck sometime". Now, I've had my share of guys in the past, I'm not about to be humble about it, I know that I'm hot myself, or, well I guess, you know, back then… but you know, I really was a great looking guy. Square fucking jaw, little dimple right in the middle of my chin, real broad shoulders, you know, I've always played rugby, and you could tell, because I had some decent fucking muscle on me, still do, probably, somewhere under all this fucking… whatever. The point is that I've had guys lining up for a chance to bounce on my dick, so I wasn't exactly shocked when guys checked me out but this guy, I mean, he was out of my league, you know? Out of everyone's league. It's insane to think guys that look like that would check anyone out.

So I was feeling sort of cocky, like maybe I could get more than a room out of this deal. And I know, don't shit where you eat, and definitely don't fuck your landlord, but fuck me this guy was hot, right? I couldn't pass up on this. And everyone in the fucking city's probably going for the room, it's not like I was likely to get it anyway, not with an advert that attractive. Sorry, what's that? Where did I see the advert? No, sorry, I can't quite… No, no, I don't think it was on a website, maybe a… Listen, I don't fucking remember, okay?

Anyway, so this guy smiled and he stepped back, and with his long legs he was all of a sudden right back in the shadows, and he let me in and the door closed behind me and all of a sudden it's just so dark. And I sort of stumbled around and I hear his voice, somewhere off down the corridor, and he said, and I remember this, because it's the first time I heard his voice, all soft and whispery, like I'm imagining it more than I'm hearing it, and there's this light, coming down the corridor from some door, but it's not like the hallway gets any brighter, it's just this beam of light for me to walk to. And he said, right, he says "Why don't you come into the parlour?" I remember that, exactly, because who the fuck says parlour, but it's in my head too, like it echoes in there. Anyway, so I walk towards this light, but it feels, I don't know, like I'm pushing through something, like- fuck, sorry, can we stop for a minute, I just need-

[Archivist's note: the recording was paused here at the subject's request. The subject was provided with a cup of tea and a member of the museum staff brought some food. After around five minutes, the subject was happy to continue the interview.]

Sorry, it's just, that's sort of where it feels like it all started. Walking through that hallway towards that voice and that light and that… that parlour. I'm not sure I really even remember what happened next. We spoke, for a while, the house rules and stuff I guess, when rent was due. I don't even remember agreeing to taking the room, it was just assumed. He certainly didn't give me a tour. He didn't even tell me his name, I don't think, not then anyway.

The next thing I knew I was back blinking in bright daylight, disorientated to be out of the dark and out of the warm, heady air of my new home. I flew back to London the next day, and spent the next few weeks preparing for my move. I received a contract in the post and found out my landlord's name - Damhán Alla. The contract was short, and was lacking a lot of the details I was expecting - nothing about a deposit, no bank details to transfer money to, none of the usual stuff. And what was there was odd - the contract was for one year and one day, no naked flames, the basement was out of bounds, I wasn't allowed to use certain spices or cleaning products, and I specifically wasn't allowed to do the hoovering myself. But like I said, if he wanted to run a tax dodge or whatever it was by renting me a cheap room, and if he was a little particular about his cleaning, or he's got some allergies, I was happy to help him out.

I turned up with all my worldly possessions in a few bulky bags - I'd either sold a lot of my stuff or sent it to my parents for storage, there was no realistic way I could haul much of anything to Ireland. My new landlord opened the door and was once again eye-achingly still for a moment or two, and then suddenly he's all charm, welcoming me in, taking my bags from me once I'm over the threshold, asking me how the journey was, if I wanted something to eat or drink.

I stuck my hand out. "It's Damhán, right?" I said. "I don't think we actually exchanged names last time." Thinking back, I don't even know how he knew my name and address to send me the contract.

His laugh was soft, but with a cruelty hiding somewhere deep in it. There was another sound there too, coming from his throat; a clicking maybe, or bubbling, and a hissing behind that. "Damhán," he corrected my pronunciation. "Not 'Damn-ham'."

"Down," I tried again. He shook his head and repeated it, slowly. "Dow-un," I said, doing my best to replicate him. He shrugged and gave a small nod - it would do, obviously.

I had the attic room - a whole floor really. In contrast to the rest of the house it was light and airy, with large windows and modern furniture. It had an en suite, a little kitchenette, even my own sitting area. I never needed to use the rest of the house if I didn't want to, but Damhán assured me from the shadows of the stairwell that I had the run of it, reminding me once again about the contract's stipulation not to go into the basement.

I got the full tour. The house was huge - I mean huge, you know. Bigger than it looked from the street, it must have just gone back and back. Loads of empty rooms, which makes sense, I guess; what are you supposed to fill that much space with? I remember at the time asking where his bedroom was, you know, just so I'm not stepping on his toes, and him avoiding the question. Thinking back I don't think I ever did figure that out. And the whole house was dark, curtains drawn in every room, hardly any lights. And cobwebs absolutely everywhere. And these cobwebs weren't dainty little strands, you know, they were thick. I'd occasionally walk through one and actually get stuck for a second or two. I remember thinking that if I had enough money to afford a house like that I'd hire a cleaner to come in a couple of times a week, but rich people are weird, right?

We made our way through the dark to the kitchen - me stumbling, my new landlord silent - where he started pulling out pots and pans to cook me lunch. I can't remember if I'd mentioned being hungry, but I suppose I must have been, anyway, after so long traveling.

Once he was set up, he led me through to the parlour where we spoke that first time, and told me to sit down. He left and I could hear him cooking in the kitchen.

He came back in after a while and placed a plate filled with bacon sandwiches in front of me. The bread was thickly sliced and freshly baked, the fat on the bacon was still sizzling slightly, and I could smell the butter before it was even close. There must have been three or four of them on the plate, each one piled with bacon and far too much for me to eat in one sitting usually. I remember salivating and licking my lips. Damhán licked his lips as well, and watched me tuck in.

Damhán wasn't much of a talker, I quickly learned, but he liked my company at meal times. Whenever I did try talking to him, he'd always end up laughing - with that hissing, bubbling, clicking sound beneath it. I learnt after a while to not make him laugh. He'd not eat with me, he'd just… watch me. Each breakfast and dinner time, and lunch on weekends, he'd call me into the parlour, place a pile of food in front of me and watch me eat it all. Always huge portions, always rich and fatty, always fucking incredible. Some of the best food I'd ever eaten, honestly. Every time I'd think, I'm never finishing that, y’know, always a proper pile of food, and then I'd take that first bite and… Look, it did taste amazing, it did, and I'm sure that was a part of it, but really… I don't know. I just ate. Like I entered a trance, or I was sleepwalking, or… I don't know, okay? All I know is he'd put food in front of me and watch me eat and then it was like, I don't know, like I knew I was eating but I didn't feel it. Like someone else was eating and I was watching them as well.

I started snacking at work as well. I've never been much of a snacker, got to watch my figure you know. Ha! And you can see for yourself how that turned out. But all of a sudden I'm just hungry all the time, I'm stashing chocolate and biscuits in my desk and in my coat, and all day I'm just mindlessly eating and- no, no, not like when he was watching, not that kind of mindless, just, you know, I didn’t ever think about it, it was just, I don't know, habit or instinct or automatic or whatever.

I didn't notice at first. The weight gain, I mean. God, I mean I must have noticed it, but I didn't notice it, you know? Like I could see it happening, I could see myself getting doughy and could see my gut puffing up and how my clothes weren't fitting right, but it's not like. I don't know. I thought with the move and the new job and living in a new country, it was just stress. Like, my weight goes up and down sometimes, this was just an up, there was nothing to notice.

But it kept on going up. And up. And at some point I'm bigger than I've ever been and my clothes aren't just fitting weird or too small, they're tight. Like, couple of sizes, bursting out, buttons not closing tight. I don't know what everyone at work thought. God, I must have been obscene. Actually, I think I, yeah, give me a moment, I've got a picture from around then, some work drinks thing… ah, yeah, here you go.

[Archivist’s note: the subject here showed a picture of himself in a small crowd, at a bar or similar. The subject looks to be around 250 lbs and wearing clothes several sizes too small, with skin showing where his shirt has ridden up, and shirt and trousers showing clear signs of the fabric straining. This picture, along with several others the subject has provided of themselves during their time in Ireland, can be found in the supplemental materials attached to this statement.]

I still didn't see it though. Like, you can see what I looked like, and, I mean, god those trousers! They must have killed, you know? And I can remember how painful they were to wear, remember noticing my body getting bigger, but my brain, I don’t know, just didn’t make the connection that I was actually getting fatter.

It was fast. Really fast. There was this woman in the office, Sarah, right, and she was maybe six months pregnant when I started. Well, obviously, couple of months later she's going on maternity and I looked over at her and I think its the first time I clocked how big I was getting because I realised my belly was bigger than hers. Even accounting for, you know, different heights and builds and stuff, my gut still looked bigger on my frame. One day just before she was due, she mentioned she's put on over two stone, and I remember people saying how much that is. I get home and I weighed myself for the first time since London. I was eighteen and a half stone. I'd put on about five stone since moving. I literally put on more than twice as much as a pregnant woman, and I did it in only a few months. That's mad, right? After that I tried to pay a bit more attention to my weight, step on some scales occasionally, but like I say, it was difficult. My brain just couldn't focus on the idea.

At some point in all of this, some point before I realised I put on more than Sarah I mean, Damhán one day just appeared in the parlour while I was eating some, I don't know, mound of potatoes and meat, and he just put this pile of clothes next to me. Didn't say a word, no mention of how it's because I'm bursting out of my own clothes or where they've come from, just puts them next to me then stands back to watch me eat.

I tried them on later and they fit perfectly. Well, I mean. They fit, anyway. I think I was so used to my clothes cutting in everywhere by that point that anything that was actually reasonably my size felt like it was tailor-made. They must have been expensive though. Real wool suits, tweed trousers. Not really my style, you know, bit old fashioned, but I couldn't deny they looked good, and by that point I was just happy I had something where I could get all the buttons to close.

I remember one time, not too long after, I think I was a bit over twenty stone at that point. I’d come back from the pub - I started drinking a lot, during it all. I think on some level I recognised how fucked up it all was and was just trying to… I dont know. Numb myself. Get out of the house. Whatever. I came back, took off my coat and shoes and whatever, get upstairs and collapsed. The next morning I had this hangover from hell, but at least I knew Damhán’s going to have sorted a slap up breakfast to help me through it. So I went downstairs and… god, sorry, it's just… right, no, I'm fine, I'm fine, I just need…

[Archivist's note: The recording was once again paused here, and the subject was given some cake and biscuits while he became settled.]

Sorry, where was I? Right. I went downstairs and he’s standing in the hallway with his palm outstretched. Completely still, like he's been there hours, just waiting for me to come down. He had a lighter in his hand - I must have nabbed it off someone in the smoking area, you know how it is on a night out, you just sort of pick these things up, don’t you? Anyway he’s stood there with this fucking lighter in his hand, just staring and staring at me as I come down the stairs, and he said “Your contract said no lighters”. That's it. No “good morning” or “how's the head” or whatever. “Your contract said no lighters.”

And I said, you know, sorry, won't happen again, few too many last night, as you do. And he doesn't move. Just stood there with his lighter and he just repeated himself, louder: “No lighters, no naked flames.” And I realise, this guy’s angry. Really, properly, fucking livid. He was almost shaking with it, you could hear it in his voice. His face wasn't really showing it, not really, a little bit around his mouth maybe, but his eyes were… fuck they were blank. This guy was furious about this lighter, probably waited for hours for me to wake up, and his eyes were just blank.

So I'm there realising just how badly I've fucked up, that he must have some phobia or something. I’d seen all the hobs and whatever were induction whatsits, but I'd not really thought about it until then, just thought, I don't know, fuck, that they were just induction hobs, didn't think to care. I started to apologise again, told him I understood. I don't know if he heard me. He just went on and on about lighters and fire, getting louder and louder all the time, until suddenly he just stops and turns around and walks away down the hall.

For a second he stopped outside the door to the basement and put his hand on the knob and turned to look at me. It was like he was sizing me up, looking me up and down. Clearly he decided against whatever he was planning because he carried on to the kitchen and just snapped at me to go sit in the parlour. I remember that moment really clearly. And to say it now, it's nothing, right? He went to open a door. Decided against it. But… fuck me, it felt important at the time. Like my whole life depended on whether or not he opened that door. Maybe it did.

Fifteen minutes later he walked in and just put two big frying pans down in front of me, one piled up with bacon, one filled with eggs and sausages. He walks away and comes back with a loaf of bread and a couple of packs of butter and throws those at me and says “eat”.

And there was a part of me that, you know, obviously wanted to ask about the deconstructed breakfast sandwich I've just been served, and a part of me that was just absolutely boggling at how much food there was, but then there was… I mean the biggest part of me, the bit that wins out, just says to eat.

So I ate. I reached out and I grabbed some bacon with my bare hands out of the frying pan and I just shoveled it in my mouth, and just carried on until it was all gone, all the while with Damhán stood watching. Then the eggs and sausages, just with my hands, you know, with the yolk just, fuck, just dribbling down my arms. When that was all gone I started taking bites out of the bread. Didn't slice it, didn't butter it, just ate until it was gone. Then Damhán just carried on watching me and I… I got that feeling. Like I was in a trance and the only thing I knew is that I had to eat. So I bit into the butter. Just took a great big bite out of it. And another, and another. Fuck me, I ate it like it was chocolate. And I was screaming at myself to stop, right? Obviously I didn't want to be eating butter by the block. But he didn't force me, or threaten me, or whatever, didn't even tell me to. I ate it. I did that. Me. And he just watched.

Once I was done he walked out and left me alone. I won't lie, I cried. Pretty fucking hard. My stomach hurt, I was covered in butter and grease and egg. I felt huge - I was huge. And I just felt so ashamed.

After that it all picked up pace. He never mentioned that day again, but meals got bigger. A lot bigger. Each one could have fed a rugby team. Occasionally he'd just put a block of butter on the side, like it was a fucking dessert or something. I always ate it. He never told me to. I just knew what I was supposed to do.

And I started swelling up. I was gaining fast beforehand, but this was, fuck me, I reckon it must have been over a pound a day, maybe two. Must have been, honestly, considering how fast it all was and how big I am now. Clothes just seemed constantly uncomfortable; even straight after he'd given me bigger ones, they'd not quite fit right. My back hurt all the time from hefting around this gut, my feet hurt, I got these stretch marks fucking everywhere. It was just a lot, all the time, and my body never got a chance to adjust.

It was around Christmas, I must have been, maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven stone - who knows honestly, it all went by so fast. I went to my work’s Christmas do. Fuck knows what they must have all thought of me - can you imagine? They hire me at thirteen, fourteen stone, and not even a year later I'm pushing double that and not showing any signs of stopping?

Anyway, the Christmas do. I'm wearing the biggest Christmas jumper that I could find in M&S, and even that's, you know, riding up on me, fits me like a sausage casing. People are being friendly, nicer than I'd be if I was watching someone inflate in front of me in real time, if I'm being honest. No jokes or anything; not to my face anyway. And someone asks if I'm going home for Christmas, and I say no, I'm staying in Dublin. They ask, you know, very reasonable questions; am I not seeing family, my friends back in London? And I couldn't answer them. I had no clue why I wasn't going back home.

Eventually someone asks will I be doing anything with my housemates. I said it's just me and the landlord, so they get to asking about him, you know, what's he like, is he alright, do I get on with him. And at some point I mention his name and a couple of people give me funny looks, one woman laughs at me. I assume I've just said it funny, you know how Irish names are. And someone tells me that Damhán Alla means spider in Irish. I sort of laugh and say I must be saying it wrong, I spell it out on a napkin and someone says, no, that’s definitely just ‘spider’. And they keep on asking questions; is it his first name, full name, do I know if it's a nickname, just finding it absolutely mad that the new fat English bloke at work is claiming his landlord’s full name is Spider.

It makes me feel weird. I think they eventually just accept it as a weird name, like celebrity parents calling their kids Apple or Moonbase, but it really stuck with me. And I didn't really talk the rest of the evening, I just sat thinking about the cobwebs, and how dark the house is, and how dark and empty his eyes were.

At some point I followed someone to the smoking area and made a point of nicking a lighter. I didn't know what it was supposed to do, what I'd use it for, but fuck it, if Damhán didn't want me to have a lighter then I'd make sure to have a lighter. I tucked it into my pocket, and from that point on I always had it hidden somewhere, slept with it under my pillow, even kept it in sight when I was having a shower.

Nothing changed for a while, not really. I had my lighter, and I was thinking about Damhán differently, but honestly, it's not like I'd trusted him for a good while anyway. I was still eating the insane piles of food he put in front of me, still getting fatter and fatter. This goes on for a few months, and remember, I reckon I'm putting on over a pound a day at this point - a few months is a good long time to be putting on that much weight. But, as I got bigger, I felt like Damhán started to act differently towards me. I could see him eyeing me up sometimes, like, I was some fruit he was waiting on to get ripe enough. He even asked me, a couple of times, how much I weighed. I'd always tell him, between my bites of butter. One time I said I wasn't sure and he followed me up to the bathroom and watched me weigh myself. I remember him laughing when I read off the weight - bubbling and clicking and hissing again, making my stomach turn - and telling me I was doing a good job.

One Sunday in March, breakfast was huge. I mean, I was pretty used to eating a lot of food by that point, but this was just a crazy amount of food. He just kept bringing out plates and plates of it, didn't even watch me like he usually did, just kept on going back into the kitchen to whip up more. Eventually the sausages and eggs turn into roast vegetables and chicken and gravy, and there's some steaks in there, a load of it was just ready meals still in the plastic, and it all just keeps coming and coming and I just keep eating and eating. Eventually it got dark and the food stopped coming. He never says what the fuck just happened or that it was over, he just stops coming in with trays of food. Anyway, at some point a bit after that I heard him go through the basement door, which, I mean, I should have realised then that something was about to happen. Because I've never been down there, obviously, but I also don't think I've ever seen him go down there either.

Anyway, I sit there burping and farting and digesting until I feel human enough to pull myself up, and fuck me I was used to putting on weight by that point, but I could literally feel all that sudden extra weight. And I stagger up the stairs, probably travelling about a foot a minute, really fucking sluggish, until I collapse into bed, in the same too small pyjamas I had on that morning, my gut fucking looming over me, not even enough strength to pull the covers over me, fuck knows if I’d even be able to reach over my gut to grab them in the first place, and I’m asleep within a few minutes.

At some point I woke up. I didn't think too much about it at first, because I'd started snoring pretty bad somewhere in the first hundred pounds or so, bad enough that I woke myself up with it sometimes. But eventually, I started to see a shape somewhere above me. Like, the room was pitch black, but there was a section above me that was even darker. And I felt something drop onto my face, like something wet and slimy. I reach over to turn my light on and there's Damhán leaning over me, with his mouth wide open, long lines of saliva falling down onto me.

And his teeth were, fuck, I don't know if I'd ever seen his teeth before. Like, maybe he never opened his mouth when he spoke? Or maybe it was the same as how I didn't think about how much I ate or how big I was getting and he just made me not notice them, but they were… fuck me. His mouth was full of these huge, sharp, black fangs.

And even though he had his mouth wide open, wider than I've ever seen any human ever open their mouth, it sort of felt like he was smiling. Like this sadistic, shit-eating smile.

I backed away, as best as I could, what with my being the size of a small hatchback and the fact that he was close enough that even a normal sized person wouldn't be able to really put that much space between him and them, never mind me with my gut almost touching him. I realised that I was covered in cobwebs, thick ones, so that I had to pull them off as I went. And he laughed. His mouth didn't move, but he laughed, and it was so much worse than any other time I'd heard. It was that same gurgling, hissing, clicking sound, but it was like he wasn't bothering to cover it up anymore. I felt like throwing up.

I reached under my pillow and I grabbed my lighter and held it up to him, lit. It seems mad really, how he reacted to it. A tiny little flame like that, and that fucking monster cowered from it like I was holding a gun up to his head. I’m not particularly maneuverable, these days, so it was a struggle, but I made sure as fuck to keep that little flame between him and me at all times as I heaved myself out of bed.

I backed towards the door, and I think he panicked that I was going to get away because he lunged at me and… fuck. He went up like he was covered in petrol. The flame barely touched him. And he started going around the room, bumping into things, and they went up as well.

I couldn't exactly run, but I turned around and I lumbered out of there as quickly as I could. At one point I turned round and the whole landing had gone up behind me. I couldn't believe how fast it was all burning. I think it was all the cobwebs.

I got downstairs, with my heart pounding, and I turned around one last time to see the basement door open. I heard this clicking and gurgling, like when Damhán laughed, and these legs came out round the door, like spiders’ legs but huge. Six, eight feet long maybe. I didn't wait to see whatever they were attached to. I barrelled the door down, and I think it came off its hinges - this much weight will do that.

A neighbour must have rung 999, because the emergency services got there pretty sharpish. The paramedics put one of those foil blanket things awkwardly over my shoulders, like it was supposed to cover me up, and I got given a cup of tea and sat in an ambulance for a bit, then got taken to the police station for some questioning. I lied, obviously. Just told them I woke up when I heard the fire alarm and that's all I knew. I mean, what was I supposed to tell them? I set fire to my surprisingly flammable landlord because he was fattening me up to feed to a spider god he kept in the basement? Is that… I mean, do you think that's what it was? No, no, I suppose you don't know any more than me.

Someone at the station must have picked something up about why I wasn't giving any details, or they had additional information about the house or something, because someone mentioned I should give you guys a call. That you've smoothed over cases before where some of the details have been, I don't know, weird.

And I guess I thought you might be able to give me some answers. If you've seen anything similar, I mean. Like why did he have to make me so fat? Okay, you've got a spider-thing in your basement and you want to make sure its meals are nice and big and nutritious, but then why take so long? Just feed it a normal-sized person a week, not, fuck, not the fattest person you’ve ever seen after a year.

No. No, I suppose you haven't. Sorry, I just. Yeah.

I've been to a doctor about the weight. They didn't even have any scales that could weigh me, they had to refer me to a specialist who had some bariatric scale things. Fucking four-hundred and eighty something pounds. Thirty-five stone, or near enough. Have you ever even seen someone that big? Ha, I suppose you have now, yeah. Anyway, yeah, they've got me on some special weight loss regime, you know, restricted calories, physical therapy which is basically just walking for ten minutes until I'm knackered. I need to lose a load of weight before they can even talk about surgery.

That's it, I guess. Will you- yeah, no sorry, you've got your own procedures and stuff. Yeah, I can see myself back to reception. I don't suppose you have any more of those biscuits, do you?

[Statement ends.

Final archivist's notes, dated 05/11/23: The details of Mr Barrett’s statement have been verified as far as possible. There is a record of his move to and employment in Dublin, and while there is not a record of his renting with Mr Alla, there is a record of the existence of a building matching Mr Barrett’s description at the address provided and of the fire Mr Barrett described [see supplemental materials].

There are 17 reports of missing persons logged in Dublin where the missing person had gained a significant amount of weight prior to their disappearance, going back to 1909.

The name Damhán Alla appears in four previous statements, dating back to 1907. We have added the name as a searchable tag to these statements, although none seem to deal directly with him.

In recent follow up interviews with Mr Barrett's family, friends and doctors, it would seem that his weight loss plan has been unsuccessful, and he has gained somewhat more weight since moving back to London. His family and friends have noted that he seems in good spirits, despite his rather unique trauma and ongoing circumstances. His father made a mention of a new hobby - a newfound interest in spiders.]

[bigboysfalldeep]

the nick jonas experience - posession

I always had one rule: never target a celebrity.

It's just way too risky; there is simply no way to just vanish and start a new life inside a new body. Still, one young man always tickled my fancy: Nick Jonas.

I contemplated for months: was taking over his beautiful body worth the risk? My decision was taken from me when he announced a concert very close to me, a couple of hours by car, and instantly my mind was set on my newest target. I bought a ticket and spent the coming months obsessing over him more and more. I loved the way he kept teasing his fans by acting all cocky, geared up in leather, and showing off his well-formed body.

During the two-hour drive, I kept going through the coming operation. I would wait, enjoy his music, and once he's done, exhausted, happy—whatever he would be, I'd strike.

When he entered the stage, I couldn't believe my eyes. Nick was wearing a tight green leather tracksuit, showing off his thick bulge for everyone to see, and I couldn't turn back now, not after my dick grew so hard inside my jeans.

Once the concert slowly came to an end, I made my way toward my car, just to leave my old vessel behind—it wasn't a bad body, but nothing compared to the heart throb that is Nick Jonas.

After years of doing this, it was the easiest thing to do. I focused all of my being on leaving the fleshy husk behind. I can't simply take over anyone's body. Part of their soul, their consciousness, stays behind—locked away, chained, simply unable to move, think, or fight back. The guy might be able to take his body back, but why would I care?

As an astral being, I was able to ascend into the sky, watching all those thousands of people leave the stadium. Nick should be in his private quarters right now, and with a little luck, I might be able to strike.

Nobody could see me; some could feel my presence, however, when a cold shower ran down their backs, their arms, or their legs. There were so many potential new hosts, but I wasn't letting anything sway my mind when I had come thus far.

I made my way through the hallways, thin corridors, and wide open spaces when I finally picked up a trace. I spotted a few security guys and decided to follow them, and sure enough, they brought me right toward Nick's door.

I licked my nonexistent lips in anticipation, reading his name printed on the door: Nick Jonas.

However, walls, doors, and concrete didn't mean anything to me right then. I entered the room, and there he was: Nick, in person.

He was sitting in a chair talking to a few people, chatting happily about the successful concert. The closer I got, the more I had to control my urge to jump him, force myself into his fleshy self, and take him right in front of all of these people. 'Patience,' I thought, but I couldn't help myself and approached him nonetheless.

"Just give me a few more minutes, alright?" Nick said in a husky voice—probably due to him performing for hours now. His team nodded, and one by one, they left while I was hovering in front of him, just inches away from his face. 

Nick was stunning: sweaty, thick, and, most importantly, handsome. I hesitated; this was the last chance to stop, to admire him now, but to leave him and find any other hot guy to take over.

But then he turned his face and let out a long, guttural sigh. My entire being was shacking, and if I had a body right there, I would have wet myself.

Nick grabbed his phone and started to text someone, but that didn't bother me. I swirled around his body—I learned that the back is the easiest way to enter someone else's body—and placed a hand on his shoulder.

His body shuddered once; even through his leather jacket, he must have felt the cold embrace of my presence. Bewildered, he quickly got up and turned around.

"Hello?" Nick said his voice was rough and husky. "Somebody here?" 

I just grinned and placed my hand on his neck. Making contact with a warm human body always shocked the target; it wasn't natural to be touched like that. 

Nick opened his mouth to say something, but he froze. His body grew hard and stiff; all of him was tensing more and more. Gently, I drew a line from his neck down to the small of his back, following his spine, and even though I wasn't touching his bare skin, he opened his mouth and let out a low growl. It's to prepare his body for my entrance; think of it like unzipping a costume—a fleshy meat suit.

The muscles on his back relaxed barely, while the rest of him got even harder. I enjoyed this moment any time I took over a new body. The simple blissful joy and anticipation of entering a new host always made my entire being vibrate.

Using both of my hands, I reached out, touched him, felt him, and watched the tips of my fingers vanish inside his back. Right then, his body reacted by bending his back as waves of pain and pleasure flooded his being.

"Fuuuck." Nick moaned breathlessly as my hands and arms sank into him. It felt so good, causing my form to pulsate vibrantly. I used all of my strength to stay invisible, but the pleasure running through me made it so hard, yet I couldn't let him see me, not now.

Nick managed to turn himself around, probably aware of something happening. He stumbled toward a huge mirror on the wall, pushed the chair out of the way, and steadied himself against a small table.

I was clinging on to him, enjoying his attempt to figure out what was happening. He looked into the mirror and ran a hand across his neck, his face, and through his sweaty hair. This meant, however, that I was able to look at his reflection as well. His eyes looked a little foggy already, telling me that he was a very suitable pick.

Slowly, carefully, I pushed deeper inside of him—a sensational feeling—as all of me started humming. I hold back a deep moan, but he, on the other hand, is unable to do the same, and a fierce grunt escapes his lips.

Shaking his head, he tried to shake this feeling—me—off, but I wasn't letting him leave now. My arms were sliding into his sleeves, filling his entire chest with my blissful humming and vibrating self, causing him to let out more low grunts and groans.

"What is happening to me?" Nick's entire body went stiff, and all of him tensed harsher than ever before. My slim form wasn't filling his upper body fully, so I needed to enlarge myself a little bit, putting even more pressure on his body and, more importantly, on his mind. I needed him exhausted, so he wouldn't be able to fight back.

Just then, my fingertips reached his own, and I was able to get a hold of them. I was shaking when I first moved his fingers, his hands, and his arms—just an overwhelming feeling for the both of us. I could see the confusion spreading across his face when I started to stroke him, his neck, and his firm chest.

It felt so good—running my fingers across his skin, along his jawline, and further down to his chest. Feeling my fingertips brush over his leather jacket made me vibrate even firmer. At the same time, I tried to calm him down a little to soothe his mind.

Still shaking his head, he tried to regain composure and control, but I wasn't letting him do that, was I? The more I stroked him, the more his muscles bulged. His arms were so thick already, and once his biceps started to bulge even harder, his bulky form tested the limits of his clothes.

Still, I pushed even further and stepped inside him. Right then, he let out another breathless yet deep moan, and I was forced to steady ourselves against the table again. A gigantic smirk spreads across my lips when I feel his body vibrating and tingling due to my moving inside him.

Nick's breathing quickened rapidly; all of that pleasure and pressure were taking a toll on him already. But I knew he was able to withstand and overcome. 

I felt all of him reacting to me invading his body: his entire chest was hard as a rock, his arms bulged firmly, and so did his thighs and calves. Like putting on thick leather boots, I slid down his legs and right into his feet. In response, Nick leaned his head back, groaning audibly.

Now, I was able to get a firm stance, so I was able to move my hands freely, but part of him was clinging on to his form. Together, we moved our hands across his chest, and again and again, we kept stroking him.

With a firm thrust, I pushed my hips into him, like I was fucking him from behind. Nick winced once, and I felt his cock growing bigger now. He was so large and so hard that his member was visibly tenting inside his tight leather pants. I knew he felt it too, because right away, he grabbed himself firmly, rubbing the palm of his hand across his thick dick.

"Fuck, this feels good." He groaned under his breath as more waves of pleasure flooded his system. To make it even more enjoyable, I thrusted against his hand once, then twice—he shouldn't miss out on this sensational experience. 

Nick purred happily as we kept stroking his dick and chest at the same time, but I wasn't done yet. After I took a deep breath, I moved my head into the back of his, the first attempt to merge ourselves, or more precisely, to take over his body completely.

Instantly, he froze again as our minds began to intertwine. I felt all he felt: he's scared, confused, yet aroused and somewhat excited. Nick didn't know what was happening, and I liked it that way.

As his thoughts became my thoughts, his body reacted again: he started drooling heavily, his eyes lost focus, and they turned vacant, slowly yet steadily. A soft groan escaped his wet lips as his mind got overwhelmed.

In a last, futile attempt to regain power, he closed his eyes, fighting back. His head dropped down, his chin on his chest, as he tried to locate me to remove the parasite inside his head—a cute attempt, but an attempt in vain.

I felt my form spread even further through his body; all he felt was a heavy, tingling sensation—a warmth filling his entire being. Knowing this feeling all too well, I moaned, filling his mind with even more images of pure pleasure.

Nick was powerless, and to make him give in, I put even more pleasure and pressure on him. As I got full control over his arms, I began to stroke him again, just like he had before. Invading his mind revealed all of his most sensitive spots, so I played him like a fiddle. I stroked him hard through his leather clothes.

I knew he was into leather, seeing him wearing all sorts of leather jackets and pants, as he knew how good he looked in those. It was easy for me to take advantage of that, as the simple feeling of leather on his skin made all of him hard.

"Who are you?" He thought, feeling my presence finally. But I didn't kiss and tell; instead, I grabbed his dick again. Nick was already leaking, staining his boxers with his precious cum, much to my enjoyment.

Then I got control over his legs and took a firm stand. It wasn't unusual for hosts to cave in during a takeover, but I've gotten used to it by now.

We moaned in unison as I began to thrust again and again, right against the palm of our hand, while I used the other to stroke our chest. It felt so good to use his voice; I instantly leaked even harder, feeling the steaming liquid press against my skin.

Nick enjoyed this just as much as I do, but somehow he didn't want to give in to me.

"Pleasee." He begged, but I made a sly smirk spread across his lips instead. I rubbed our hand across our dick again and again, encouraging it to leak more and more.

We started to grind together, moaning together, when our heart accelerated rapidly. Our entire being bulged so hard because all of our muscles grew so much bigger, and all we could think of was to cum.

I kept edging him on, but I was in control, and he didn't release himself; instead, I let the pressure build up.

As I finally overlayed my mind with his, I felt him panicking. "Whatt?" We moaned—the most exciting feeling for me—but Nick was torn between pain and pleasure.

With one more heavy thrust, I simply overtook his mind. To feel my form encompass another, not join him but be him, was the most sensual feeling I knew. That was the first time I came as Nick Jonas, staining his underwear and leather pants with my hot cum. One load after another, I let go of my old self and became him at once.

We started to drool heavily as I chained him, gagged him, and locked him away. Our eyes were unfocused and partly rolled back into our skull. Swaying slightly, I took control over his now vacant body. 

His fingers, hands, arms, and shoudlers became mine, causing his muscles to nearly tear apart as they adjusted to me even more. I grew bigger as his skin now covered me perfectly.

I filled his chest, his stomach, and his thighs, and I grew larger as well, regaining my composure. Finally, his legs became mine, and I stopped swaying instantly.

I opened my eyes, looking at my beautiful reflection. Smirking, I took a step closer, one hand still at my wet crotch, the other noew tracing my firm jawline. 

"This felt so good." I used his handsome voice—my voice—for the first time, causing my dick to pulsate again, shooting another dry load. I ran a hand through my sweaty hair and licked my lips. It felt so good to finally be him; I couldn't stop smirking the whole time. 

I took a long and close look at my reflection. I had only seen Nick in videos or photos, but I never imagined seeing him for real, let alone being him one day. I couldn't stop my dick from twitching. I loved this so much.

"Fuuck." I moaned; hearing his beautiful voice echo through me made me grow harder again. I had been running dry for a while now, but it just felt too good. I gave in to my desire and encompassed all of my upper body.

I closed my eyes for a moment and felt the core of me hum again. I never felt so good.

Subconsciously, I kept on stroking my dick and my chest, enjoining the feeling of leather again. I looked so hot in this body, and I didn't care for the risks. 

"This body is perfect." I purred and opened my eyes, unable to resist the urge to touch myself again.

As I took a deep breath, I smelled me for the first time, and in response, I let out another long guttural moan—a mixture of sweat—and his cologne invaded my nostrils, a smell I would grow to love so much.

I didn't catch myself tracing the outlines of my cock again, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. If it were for me, I would have masturbated there at least a dozen more times. I felt my new body craving so much more, yet I had to play it cool.

No one can know.

[aaaaafro]

Princess. Must Handle With Care! - IVE - Wonyoung x M! Reader (+18)

tw: idk lol just seggs, I've gotten too lazy to proofread.

Have you ever held something so precious that it might just break at the lift of a finger?

It's like getting handed a precious diamond, polished to its perfection, that even leaving a print of your finger on it would be detrimental to its value.

That's the feeling of having Wonyoung's skin against your touch. A diamond in its perfection, it feels illegal just grazing a part of her skin, but yet you're...

"AHHH! Fuck!" The girl hiss as you threw her almost inhumanly easy, on the thankfully soft bed.

"A-are you mad?" Her soft innocent tone paired with her glassy eyes on the verge of tears was such an irony from her earlier state.

"No..." Your answer helps slightly ease up the lady.

"I'm fucking fuming." Each syllables etching fear and excitement in Wonyoung as she struggles to keep her composure.

Your reasoning is coming back slowly seeing Wony squirming, as tears start to fall down her pearl like face. Just as then you're able to keep your sanity, before you questioned yourself, if its even worth it to continue your fit.

"W-why d-daddy?" And there goes the remaining guilt in yourself.

"Holy fuck, you really can't fucking control yourself?"

"N-no daddy~" Her voice trailing off almost as if she's teasing more rather than pleading for her well being.

"Couldn't you just fucking contain yourself until we're home?"

"B-but!" Wony tries to answer.

"But?! But what?! Nothing! You really should realize what you've just done!"

Wonyoung stayed silent as she tucks herself on her knees sulking as she reminisces about the moments leading to where you two are.

- - - - - flashback - - - - -

"AHHH! Fuck!" You sigh as you approach the fancy diner.

"What's wrong babe?" Your girlfriend asks.

"Nothing, It's just... my nerves are getting to me."

"Oh come on babe. It's just my friends! Plus, I've already told them how great of a guy you are." She tries to encourage you.

"I know that, but still, what if they don't like me?"

"Oh baby!" She grabs you by the cheek before boping her nose on yours.

"They'll like you, but just 'like'... Since, I'm the only one who'll love you." She smiled before pulling away with a proud look as she entered the diner and you quickly followed along.

"Omg! There they are!" You can hear the high pitched voices as Wonyoung and her friends finally meet.

"And you must be the lucky one!" One of her friends says as she gives you a good scan from head to toe as the others follow along with the teasing, and you just gave them a hesitant smile.

"No, I am. I'm the lucky one." Wony replies helping ease up the tension.

All of you sat around the table and you've finally introduced yourself, going around one by one the girls start introducing themselves as well, starting from the one on the other end of the table .

"I'm Liz, it's nice to finally meet you." The girl says with her smile forming the cutest ball of sunshine you've ever seen.

"Hi, I'm Gaeul, finally Wonyoung can stop describing you whenever we're hanging out." The girl with the short hair smiles as the others immediately laugh while your girlfriend just hides her blush.

"Hello! I'm Leeseo, I'm the youngest." Another girl greets and she certainly looks the youngest.

"I'm Rei, it's nice to finally see the guy Wonyoung is getting crazy about." Another girl greets you as she gives you another infectious smile.

"Finally!" The girl right next to you  and the one who gave you a scan earlier sighs in relief as her turn comes.

She prompts herself up with a hand on your shoulder and the table, the girls laugh seeing this sight but Wonyoung looks like she's not enjoying it.

"Well! My name's Yujin." She smiled as she gave your shoulder a light squeeze.

"Oohh!" She mouthed, feeling the muscles behind your suit.

"Ehem?!" Wonyoung fakes a cough as Yujin finally lets her hand off of you.

"Right, so, I'm Wony's fave friend." She confidently states as they all look at the two just giving each other a stink eye.

"I can clearly see why Wonyoung has been, too out of it lately." Yujin adds before placing her hand on your shoulder once more.

"Ya!" Wonyoung reacts as she pulls you away violently from her friend.

"Woah! Babe!" You panic seeing the girls surprised faces.

"Jeez! So possessive! I was just kidding." Yujin eases up the crowd but makes sure you to give you a subtle wink and a smile that makes your throat dry as you try and calm your girlfriend down.

The rest of the dinner was normal, or you thought so, as the wines get involved you see the sudden shift of their attitudes. Except for Leeseo who needed to head out first as she still has something to do. For the rest... well... "I still can't believe you're Wony's boyfriend."

Yunjin's comments earn her a couple of awkward chuckles as the other girls are nowhere near as sober as you are. You sat there silently, as they all told a bunch of cute but slightly embarrassing stories of each other, one trying to one up the other.

It was all fun and games but then something else happened. During one of the playful arguments that the girls are having Wonyoung was going up against Yujin on who's the better girlfriend material.

Obviously as they're going along, you're bound to get involved.

"First of all, I'm better at taking care of people!" Yujin says as the other girls are now a laughing mess at the side.

"Well, if you are, then how come you haven't introduced anyone to us?" Wonyoung rebuts before she quickly clings onto you, as they all shoot a look at you.

"Isn't that right, baby?" Wonyoung looks at you with a great longing for an answer. Quickly scanning the rest of the girls as you realized that they're anticipating a response.

"Hehe." You could only chuckle awkwardly as your girlfriend presses herself against you even harder.

"A-are you g-girls always like this?" You asked and they quickly nodded.

"Pft! Just because you bought your boyfriend doesn't mean that you're a better girlfriend material than me!" Yujin suddenly retorts.

"Oh really?"

You just sat there thinking that this cute argument is normal with them. Taking a sip of water, as your throat was drying up. When all of a sudden.

"Yeah! I bet you can't even please him as much as I probably can."

You almost spew the water across the table after hearing Yujin's claims. You look over Wonyoung who's currently awestruck at what her friend just said.

"E-excuse me?!" Wonyoung questioned and Yujin just gave her a scoff.

"Am I wrong?!" Yujin suddenly aims her sight on you.

Beads of sweat forms on your forehead, as the girls shoots a look at you with a visible anticipation of your answer. With your throat drying up. You gave Wonyoung a small tap under the table but that wasn't even necessary as Wony suddenly got up from her seat diverting everyone's attention towards her.

"I please him very well myself..." Wonyoung says in such a stern way that everyone's jaw just dropped.

"H-Hold on-." You try to interrupt and switch the subject but Yujin suddenly silenced you with a finger.

"Really?" Yujin mocks as she gave Wonyoung an unimpressed look.

"Yeah, that's right. Isn't it daddy?" Your heart drops when Wonyoung suddenly uses your bed name even placing her hand over your arm and brushing it up and down and giving a good squeeze in before continuing the motion..

"W-wait-..." You tried calming down the situation but your girlfriend isn't backing down and so does her friend.

"Why? Am I wrong? Don't I pleasure you well daddy?"

"W-wony." You start to panic as the girls starts to look at you suspiciously.

"Yes daddy? The way you rail me the other night. How hard you're penetrating your length in me–."

You've never even wished to be swallowed by the earth as much as you have currently, as you sat there while your girlfriend does her best to tell her friends how hard you're fucking her. As her hands travels down your chest towards your thigh.

"Oh you've gone silent?" Wonyoung's proud voice directed towards Yujjn whos sat there speechless after hearing her friend's proud sex story.

"Still think I can't pleasure him? Why'd you think he's here with me right now? That's right! Because I'm the perfect girl for her! He just can't get enough of me and we'll probably do it again later tonight."

"W-wony." You whispered but she's in too deep on her fit.

"He's gonna be fucking me all night. Pounding away at my tight–."

"Wonyoung!" You had enough as you've realized how ridiculously awkward the situation is as the other girls sat in silence.

"Oh..." Her confidence fades in an instant hearing your hardened voice and she sees everyone awkwardly silent.

"S-sorry." Wonyoung's voice is almost nonexistent as she takes a seat.

The rest of the dinner was definitely the most awkward dinner you've had. All of you stayed silent and no one even dared to speak up even afterwards. The only time someone spoke was when you're about to part ways.

"W-wonyoungie... I'm sorry." Yujin says softly as they both hug each other.

"I'm sorry as well for making it awkward."

"It's fine, really... but you do have a lot of things to work out with your boyfriend." Yujin jokes as you sit there trying your best to calm yourself as they all laughed at Wonyoung's blush.

With all of you finally saying your goodbyes to each other and taking separate ways to your respected rest of the night. You're now left with Wonyoung in your passenger seat as she fidgets with her phone trying her best to not acknowledge the fact that she made one hell of an introduction of you to her friends.

- - - - - flashback end - - - - -

"Now talk."

"B-but isn't it true?!" She counters with a weirdly proud tone as if what she did wasn't wrong.

"Don't I pleasure you well?"

"Don't you just love it when you're balls deep inside of me daddy?"

"Wony-..."

"Am I not your slut princess?!"

"Or is it because you'd want to fuck Yujin instead of me?!"

That last question took you out of your head. Seeing Wonyoung's emotions pouring out as she looks at you with such need of validation. Wonyoung is... Jealous?

"Wony." You softly called as her tears start to fall down.

"No! It's because you've seen Yujin and now you don't want me anymore!"

You stood there looking stupid and fucked by seeing your girlfriend crying out loud as she starts lashing out how Yujin's hand didn't even wait a second to touch you and how you didn't even dare to resist it.

"Babe." You called, as Wony just balled up and hid herself under the covers.

With nothing else but guilt, you quickly joined Wonyoung under the covers. You leveled your face with hers as she just hides her face on her hands, your hand captures her hip pulling her towards you.

"Wony."

"You know none of that is true, right?"

"You're my one and only." You can see her eyes peeking through her fingers as your words didn't fail to reach your sulking girlfriend.

"R-really?" She whispered as you gave her a reassuring smile and nod.

Quickly removing her hand off of her face she captures your lips with hers engaging in a much needed dessert as the meal earlier clearly didn't hit the right spot.

"Mhmm..."

"Ngnhnnnngg." Wonyoung moans as she presses herself against you even more trying to feel as much of you as possible.

Finally detaching away from each other a trail of spit hangs on the edge of her lips and Wonyoung is quick to catch it before leading it into her mouth with a finger.

"Am I really your one and only?" She asks with such curiosity that it's almost insulting the integrity of your words

"Of course baby." You assured.

"Mhmm." Her hum sounded a bit suspicious as she suddenly slides her hand down your chest to your abdomen.

"So, I'm the only one you love?" She asks

You just nodded and her finger took its time fiddling with your belt though you know where all of this is going. You just knew that words are never enough for her to begin with.

"And that also means that I'm the only one who can pleasure you, right daddy?"

"W-wony."

"No! I don't want that name."

Of course. She's not a big fan of any sweet names you've given her in this particular type of situation... Only one name can satisfy Wonyoung's neediness.

"My slut princess."

"Mhmmm... Yes daddy." As her temperature reaches an all time high, she quickly connected her lips with yours before following up with a tongue.

"Nnnhhnhnnggg!" Wonyoung squirm under your touch as you've switched your position. With you now topping over her, as you then press your girlfriend down the bed.

"Are you gonna f-fuck me now, d-daddy?" She asks after you've pulled away from each other.

"No."

"WHAT?!" Taken aback by your answer she accidentally raised her voice and looks at you in disbelief before realizing what she has done.

"W-wha... Daddy." Her tone switching back to being needy voice was such a music to your ears.

"You need to learn your lesson. No fucks for you today." You tried getting off of Wonyoung but her long legs caught you immediately locking you in place.

"Look at you." You said with such disdain seeing the desperation from your slut princess under you.

"P-please daddy?" She pleads pulling you towards her.

As your lower halves touched, you can't help but notice that the woman under you is already soaking wet that her juices are seeping through her underwear that you've failed to realize when she discarded her pants.

"Oh... Look at the little slut princess." You mocked as she squirms even more.

Pressing you on her harder as your member twitches under your pants. Wonyoung felt this and had given her a glimmer of hope.

"See?" She smiled. "Daddy's body can't resist his slut princess." With a proud tone, Wony pulls you in for another kiss but you resist as she adds another arm on your nape to try and pull you down.

"Daddy!" She cries as you just smiled at her proud of the damage you're causing though it might be a bit too much.

But you know Wonyoung too much even just after being with her for only a few months. You smiled as she started grinding her lower half on you and you did your best to press yourself against her that made her enthusiastic.

"Mhmmm daddy!" She happily continues to grind as you relish the feeling of her moist clothed core.

Getting caught in the feeling she lets her guard down that allows you to escape her legs. Wonyoung gasps as you leave the bed.

"Daddy!" She begged.

"Please..."

"Give me one good reason on why I should be balls deep inside you right now."

Your proposal didn't even give Wonyoung a doubt as she suddenly starts removing the rest of her clothing.

"You want a reason?" She asks before slowly spreading her legs apart giving you a good view of her glistening entrance.

You must've swallowed a gallon of spit seeing the sight of your girlfriend in front of you. A smirk forms on her lips seeing how awestruck you are.

"Didn't you say it yourself daddy?" Her words cutting through your defenses like a hot knife on butter.

"I'm your only one."

"Which means only I can pleasure daddy." She smirked as you started to make your way back towards the bed.

"Now daddy..."

"I'm your slut..." She awaits your response as you've finally stood on the edge of the bed in front of her.

"Princess." You answered before diving face first onto her core.

"Mhmmm! Yes! Get in there daddy..." Wony moans as she tussles with your hair trying to pull you in deeper.

You did your best to taste as much as you could before you then started to work on removing your pants without letting off on eating your girlfriend out.

"Look at how hard you are daddy!" Wonyoung states after catching a glimpse of your engorged rod.

"Did your slut princess turn you on that much?"

You gave her a glance as you regretfully detached yourself from her heavenly feast. Wonyoung eyes lights up as you go ahead and line yourself in front of her entrance.

As you're about to indulge in the feel of her walls clenching you, you paused for a moment and gave Wonyoung a look of admiration, you can see the glimmer in her eyes as she slowly anticipates your entry.

A slight nod from her signals you to go in... And go in you did, feeling her walls clasping your member and despite her tight walls your entry was all smooth thanks to her juices mixed with your spit dripping from her core.

"Y-yes! You're so big daddy~!"

"You're fucking tight princess."

The two of you keep a steady pace of hissing and moans as you feel each other's love pouring with every motion. You threw your head back trying to alleviate some of the pleasure from the intercourse but Wonyoung wasn't having any of it, as she pulls your face back down and quickly feasting on your lips.

With her tongue dancing inside your mouth, your member twitches inside of her, your heat spikes as Wonyoung pushes you inside of her even more using her long legs.

"Ngnhnnnngg! Fuc–... I... L-love it daddy—.” She mumbled into the kiss as you doubled the efforts and intensity of your thrusts making your girlfriend a moaning mess when she detached her mouth with yours.

Seeing her sprawling out, spazzing, as you continue to bury yourself deep inside her, your mind kept coming back to the thought you had earlier before you tossed her on the bed after that eventful dinner with her friends.

"You're so precious." You whispered as she giggled at such a contrast of your words from your actions.

"W-why?"

"N-nothing... Hehe, I love you daddy." She smiled before placing a kiss on your lips.

"I love you more." You respond with a kiss on her forehead as you continue to pound away at your girlfriend.

After a few more strokes in then Wonyoung suddenly gets you off of her before repositioning herself in all fours. Greeting you with a great view of her back side as she gives you a wink and you already knew that this'll be the position you'd finish.

You prompt yourself behind her before giving her plump ass a good slap as she yelps in surprise before giggling as your  member finally enters her with relative ease. You placed your hand on top of the mark your slap left.

"Mmhhmm yes!" Wonyoung hums as you start stroking her ass and your thrusting becomes more and more aggressive.

As you've started to keep a steady state of motion and power in your thrust your mind starts to get clouded by her airy and shaky moans. With Wonyoung's hand gripping the bedsheets rather tightly, you start to admire her back, glistening with sweat. You then unconsciously leaned down and placed a kiss along her shoulders "D-daddy!" She called.

"Yes my slut princess?"

"I love it!"

"Of course you do." You smiled with confidence as her face digs back into the bedsheets trying to muffle her moans.

Minutes of passionate fucking passed, Wonyoung mumbles something from the bedsheet. It got you thinking for a minute but when her core suddenly clasps your member significantly tighter you knew what's happening.

"Y-yes daddy! Uuugghh shit! It's so fucking gooood!!" She moans before you feel something gushing out of Wony.

You pulled out and to your surprise her juices sprayed all over your stomach. Wonyoung collapsed on the bed as you stood there looking at the scene of her juices dripping out of her core as your eyes traveled scanning your girlfriend's heavenly body and you realized that she has lost consciousness.

A scoff escapes you before fixing her position on the bed even swapping the bedsheets that are soaked with her wetness. With her body temperature lowering down you feel her shaking under your touch. You then took your discarded shirt and covered her, doing the best that you can to not wake her up.

Soon as you're finished with everything, you stand right next to your bed and stare at your Wonyoung who looks so peaceful sleeping, you may be a bit disappointed that you didn't get to finish but it was nonetheless great. A smile forms across your face and your heart starts to skip a beat. All of a sudden Wony suddenly whines, you panic thinking you've done something wrong to disturb the peace of your princess.

"I'm sorry baby, did I woke you up?" You whispered as Wonyoung was trying to open her eyes.

"You didn't finish in me." She responded.

You chuckled hearing Wonyoung's reply as you joined her to bed and quickly embracing her before saying; "Later."

[strawb3rrystar]

Trinkets and Picture Frames.

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst towards the end, Fluffy in the beginning, Best friends that are unable to realize their feelings, Slight unrequited love themes

Word count: 750+

✰Masterlist

"I got this for you." Sejanus places a pendent in the palm of your hand. You gasp at the sight of it, wrapping your arms around your best friend. He was always the best at gift giving, always knowing exactly what you wanted when you wanted it. He would buy your favorite snacks or new shoes you were looking at in the window display. The clothes he bought you fit perfectly, as if they were tailored to your size.

You had always asked him why he got you some many gifts, but he never gave you an answer. In truth, he admired you. Not only romantically, but he also admired how hardworking you were. You didn't come from the richest family, a fact that almost everyone in the academy knew. You would often be found helping run your parents' shops, working tirelessly to keep your family afloat. Sejanus cared so deeply about you. The least he could do was buy you stuff. As friends, of course. He could never work up the courage to confess to you.

"It's beautiful, thank you." You whispered in his ear. On your seventeenth birthday, he treated you to a fancy restaurant. Not on a date, or anything like that, as both yours and his parents were there too. But you'll never forget how his hand dipped under the table to hold yours. You didn't think there was anything behind it at first as he had done it all the time, in class, during lunch, going out shopping, walking home. But, you started to notice the way he pulled you into his side, almost possessively.

You move the pendant around your hand. It was a lovely sunset orange colour, it was the perfect size, not too big or too small. You bite on your bottom lip as you look over the pendant again. It was very shiny, brand new looking. "This looks quite expensive, Sejanus."

"Yes, but it's not a big deal." He takes your hand, his eyes on the promise ring that sat on your pinkie. You open your mouth to say something, but quickly close it as you don't dare argue. You two walk hand in hand through the halls of the academy, earning glances from your peers. They probably thought you were dating, and, in honesty, there wasn't a difference to you. People looked shocked when you called him your best friend, and you would never correct people who called you a couple.

Your bedroom walls were filled with pictures of you two, from your first year of friendship to the minutes before the reaping ceremony. A brightly coloured picture frame sat on your nightstand, a part of the handmade gifts you made last year. One for each of your closest friends, which was exactly three people, two of which you swore looked down upon you. The picture was of Sejanus and you. At first glance, it looked like you two were kissing, but your faces were just really close together. Yeah.. you totally didn't kiss him two seconds before. You both promised to forget that fact.

Your hand clutches the pendant as you read over the letter for the hundredth time. It was his perfect, cursive handwriting, signed with his name. You read it over and over again.

Coriolanus Snow

Coriolanus Snow

Coriolanus Snow..

Why did he have to be the one to tell you? He never cared about Sejanus. Not as much as you did. You should have never let him leave, convinced him to stay. Now, the only reanimate of him was the pictures on your walls. You couldn't wear half of your closet as it was his money that bought it. You threw the promise ring into some corner of your room. Everything reminded you of him. You broke down in tears multiple times a day. You stopped smiling and started avoiding people. Your last words to him were telling him to stay safe, but he just couldn't listen. You wished you told him you loved him, kissed him one last time.

It wasn't fair that Coriolanus was handed the Plinth fortune, handed his diploma, handed presidency. You assumed he didn't feel any guilt, while the guilt ate you alive every day. Sejanus didn't deserve to die. He was the last person in Panem who deserved the fate that was handed to him. It wasn't until Coriolanus Snow knocked on your door almost thirty years later that you felt true rage. You didn't care anymore, and you punched him in the face, slamming the front door before he could speak.

Star's notes -> I'm madly in love with Sejanus, people need to write more fics about him

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @arzua10 @candiedhearts55 @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @toxicbimbo @shyunivrse | Join the taglist

[callofdudes]

✨GhostSoap incorrect quotes✨

With 141 chaos included.

Soap: Oops, got your mental illness 😊

Ghost: You give that back.

Ghost, pulling out a knife: That was a gift from my father!

-------

Ghost: I'm sorry for being mentally ill.

Soap: ...

Ghost: And a bit messed up in the head.

Ghost: The sex will be good though.

-------

Ghost: Johnny, this place is fancy and I don't know which fork to kill myself with.

-------

Soap: Simon, you're late for date night again, what was it this time?

Ghost, standing in the living room covered in blood: Well...

Soap, sighing: Baby I want to go out for dinner!!

Ghost: I know but just one more time love- next week we can go on a proper date but-

Soap: Hiding a body isn't a date!!

-------

Ghost: I don't want you talking at my funeral!

Soap: What?

Ghost: You can go to my funeral but you can't talk-

Soap: Why??

Ghost: My funeral is my time to shine!

-------

Soap: I don't know what the big deal is

Gaz, sighing: Ok, let's break this down. First of all, you don't fix any of the appliances in your apartment.

Soap: Yeah, it's too hard.

Gaz: You don't fix up your apartment in general.

Soap: Couldn't be bothered.

Gaz: Dude, you can't even fix up a decent meal for yourself.

Soap: What even is a stove. I mean...

Gaz: Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you??

Ghost: Hey, can I have 40 bucks real quick?

Soap, leaning in to whisper: I still think I can fix him.

Gaz: For fucks sake-

-------

Soap: Ghost, what's like a word your parents wouldn't let you use growing up. Like they said it was a curse word but it really wasn't.

Ghost: No, I can't say that, it's too embarrassing.

Soap: Oh come on I'll go first, my parents told us 'shut up' was like a curse. Like it was a terrible phrase we couldn't use.

Ghost: What? My parents said that to me all the time.

Soap: Really?

Ghost: Ok, this is a word we literally never used in our house. I don't even know if I'm pronouncing it right... Uh, love?

Soap: What?

Ghost: Oh I am pronouncing it wrong. Uh, luvé?

Soap: Uh no, it's pronounced love.

Ghost: Oh, yeah, well we never said that.

Soap: Ghost, you- you know I'm here for you right?

Ghost: That's so kind of you Johnny. You know what, I tolerate you.

Soap: What... What?? Tolerate? That's mean

Ghost: What, no it's not! That's like the deepest form of affection you can show somebody!

-------

Soap: Have you seen a person named 'Ghost' around here?

Gaz: Ugh, yes. He made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.

Price: It looks fine to me?

Gaz: IT USED TO BE WATER!!!

-------

Ghost: *Screams*

Soap: *Screams louder to assert dominance*

Gaz: Should we do something?!

Price, observing: No, I want to see who wins this.

-------

Gaz: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling?

Soap: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger”. How about you, Ghost?

Ghost: Probably “road work ahead”.

Price: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

-------

Ghost: I think Price was right.

Soap: I'm surprised he haven't marched in here to say 'I told you so.'

Gaz: He wouldn't do that.

Price: You're right, Gaz. For once in your life, you're 100% right. I would never say that.

Price: *turns around, the shirt they're wearing says 'Price Told You So' on the back*

-------

Ghost: I just ended a four year relationship.

Soap: Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

Ghost: Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my relationship.

*Gaz and Price fighting from across the room*

-------

Ghost: This is bothering me.

Soap: Well, you are digging up a corpse.

Ghost: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.

-------

Ghost: Can you please be serious for five minutes?

Soap: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

-------

Ghost: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside

Soap:

Soap: Ghost, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn...

Ghost: *Sips tea from bowl*

-------

Ghost: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died-

Soap: Twelve, actually.

Ghost: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that?

Soap: Yours!

Ghost: That's right: no one's.

-------

Ghost: Soap was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some.

Soap: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it.

Ghost: Soap, you ate a chair

--------

Ghost: Do you think you’d actually notice if someone didn’t cast a shadow? Or if their limbs were just slightly too long? Or if they had just a little too many teeth? like how many times have you passed Something on the street and you just didn’t Notice It?

Soap: Stay woke monsterfuckers ur love is out there!!!!!

Ghost: Yknow what? Not my point at all in any way whatsoever, but I’m glad I could be an inspiration.

-------

Ghost: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail

Soap: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police

-------

Ghost: What is your biggest weakness?

Soap: I can be uncooperative.

Ghost: Okay, can you give me an example?

Soap: No.

-------

Ghost: It’s dark in here

Soap: Don’t worry dude I got this

Soap: *Stomps his feet*

Soap: *Skechers light up*

-------

Ghost: I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you

Soap: 10 times 0 is still 0 though

Ghost: Jokes on you, I can't do math

-------

Ghost, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.

Soap: I saw a squirrel in a tree today!

Ghost, with the tone of someone who is used to Soap: Outstanding.

Ghost: This is what I’m talking about people.

-------

Ghost: You saved me. I owe you my life.

Soap: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.

-------

Ghost: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Soap: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

-------

Soap: Am I in trouble?

Ghost: Take a guess.

Soap: No?

Ghost: Take another guess.

-------

Soap: Remember when you didn't try to solve all your problems with attempted murder?

Ghost: Stop romanticizing the past.

-------

Ghost: I'm a reverse necromancer.

Soap: Isn't that just killing people?

Ghost: Ah, technicality.

-------

Soap: I can explain.

Ghost: Can you?

Soap: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

-------

Ghost: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness.

Soap: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you.

Price: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

[weird-is-life]

saw that you were open for requests so uhm, oblivious idiots in love w tasm!peter? you know, where both of them definitely have a crush on each other and everyone knows except the two of them so their friends keep dropping hints on other's behalf (cos they know they're both too shy to say it themselves) but it's s frustrating cycle of denial and obliviousness? totally up to you how jt ends :)

have a great day!

Hii lovely, ty for the request💕! Sorry it took so long, but hopefully it's not too bad. Warnings: fluff, oblivious idiots, swear words, like one pet name, use of y/n, mentions of bars(0.6k)

You and Peter are definitely the most oblivious people ever. You friends can't even believe how blind you two are. It's actually pretty embarrassing.

They've been trying to get you two to finally come to the realisation for too long now. So they decide to make a more drastic approach to it. They basically make you two go on a date.

Your friends tell you and Peter that you are all hanging out at a nicer place than a pub for a change and that you should dress nicely.

So you do you put on a nice sundress and Peter puts on a white shirt and black trousers.

You only just realise what exactly is happening when you arrive at the fancy bar, and find only

Peter no sign of your other friends.

"Hi Pete," you greet him a little baffled, "where's everyone?"

"Hi sweetheart," his nickname immediately has you blushing, you go even more red as Peter gets up and hugs you oh so tightly, "I don't think they are coming."

He says it with a guilty face, "what do you mean they are not coming?" You ask him even more confused.

"It's just....-" Peter struggles to find the right words, and you don't know what to make of it.

"What is it?"

"I didn't mean for you to find out like this, I've been trying to gather the courage to tell you myself, "he takes a deep breath," I like you y/n, like more than friends. And I've wanted to invite you to a date for so long, but I guess our-our friends thought it would do me good if they did it for me. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, y/n that they made you come here on my account. I totally understand if you want to go, fuck I know I would, " Peter basically blurts this whole confession in one go, and it almost makes your head spin. You can't believe this is happening.

"Are-are you...Do you really mean it?" you ask with a little hope.

Peter gives you a small, defeated smile, "of course, I mean it I wouldn't just joke about something like this. I like you y/n, always have."

"Pete, but I like you, too." Peter's face instantly lights up," I thought our friends did this because of me, I've been a coward as well. I couldn't bring myself to actually tell you the truth. I really like you, Peter. More than just a friend." You both chuckle as you add the last sentence.

Peter suddenly gets up happy as one can be, and offers you his hand. "Do you maybe wanna go somewhere else?"

You grin at him," I thought you'd never ask, I mean gosh, this place is definitely too fancy for us. What were our friends thinking?"

You giggle as Peter leads you out of the fancy bar, but Peter abruptly stops outside, and you almost bump into him.

"I haven't really asked you, have I?" Peter chuckles, "would you like to go on a date? With me? Right now?"

You can't help it, you kiss his cheek, and say, " I'd love to Pete."

And just like that your friends' plan works out. You go on a cute date, and hold hands the whole way to that different location. And maybe, just maybe (he does), Peter works out the courage to kiss you goodbye after he walks you home.