#and yeah it has got me - you guessed it - the famous green

[iloveglomp]

A Pound A Day

Emily lay in bed, her lithe frame a vague outline under the sheets. As she stirred in her dreams, her smooth milky legs rubbed against each other. Firm calves and toned thighs sculpted her shapely lower frame leading to a firm but jiggly ass that was quite large for her small stature. Emily was a rather bottom-heavy brunette standing at 5’6” and weighing 130 lbs. Any fat she had was on her ass and it was encapsulating when she crossed the room swaying her hips. As Emily slowly awoke, she stretched her toned arms and traced the outline of her firm stomach and modest breasts. Her green eyes slowly opened, and she checked her phone. A text from her roommate, Allison, read 

“Today's a big day lol, are you ready to be my famous case study?” 

“Yeah, I guess so, it’s not like it's a big deal anyway, Ms. Psychologist. Although I still don’t understand how gaining weight has anything to do with your field of study.” Emily replied. She thought about what she had agreed to do to help her roommate Allison finish her final college study. For the next month, she had to gain a pound a day. Emily thought nothing of it; her adherence to the proposal was simply an excuse to spend a month lounging around and eating what she wanted. Winter was around the corner, and she could hide herself under the warm layers of sweatpants and hoodies she had in her closet. Nobody would notice if she were 130 or 160 lbs. with her baggy clothes on. As Emily finally got out of bed, she sauntered into her bathroom and stepped on the scale as Allison had asked her to do every morning. 130 lbs. flat would be Emily’s entry weight for day 1. She texted Allison

“I’m 130lbs… I’m kind of nervous to gain 30lbs, 160lbs is way heavier than what I am now, that I think about it, is this even possible?” 

“Honestly, Emily, probably not, but we have to try and give an honest effort to my studies. Remember, you agreed to this, and my graduation depends on it!” 

“Ugh, I know, as long as you buy me groceries and treat me well, I'm a down girl.” Emily texted back, she figured if anything, she would only gain 10- 15 lbs. and never have to think about it again. A little extra padding could be nice for her if it went to the right places anyway. She cupped her breasts and noticed how firm they were, then slowly felt her flat stomach and went down and behind to her firm but slightly doughy ass. A little more meat wouldn't hurt me down here, she thought to herself. 

Emily spent her first few days of the month completely clueless about her surroundings as she dove headfirst into a completely sedentary life. It was surprisingly easy to eat to her heart’s content when everything she wanted was in the house. Ice cream and Oreos, milkshakes, pancakes, bacon, pizzas, fried chicken, just about whatever her food-comatose brain could think of as her next meal, Allison was buying her. Her stomach was constantly distended and round, taut with food and drink from her previously unseen side of gluttony. As Emily continued to indulge herself and lounge around the apartment, she realized it was quite an easy life being Allison's little study case for a month, and she should fully embrace it while she could. After two weeks, Emily was weighing in at roughly 140 lbs. Allison was rather disappointed with this result and worried her final thesis could spell disaster for her aspiring career. Allison decided to apply a bit of pressure to Emily's lazy routine by setting reminders on her phone and constantly watching her as she ate, sometimes even attempting to coax Emily to push past her limits and stuff herself to the max for the sake of her study. The two roommates grew accustomed to watching movies and reality TV shows while Allison sneakily shoved food down Emily’s throat. The two roommates spent hours cuddled under blankets, Allison's blonde hair and skinny frame almost spooning Emily's new softer body. By the end of the day, Emily would be passed out on the sofa while Allison fought the temptation to rub her belly and get a hands-on feel of the progress her “study” was making. The size difference between Allison's svelte 115lb body at 5'5" was ever shrinking compared to her indulgent roommate. Emily was starting to gather a larger appetite and often found herself mindlessly snacking on something while she was in her Zoom classes or just watching television. It wasn't uncommon for Emily to eat take-out three to four times a day, thanks to Allison's credit card. By the end of the first month, Emily had completely shattered Allison's expectations and reached a staggering 160 pounds, as she had hoped for at the beginning of her study. The thirty-one-day project displayed just how easy it could be to coax someone into turning a new leaf if placed in the right artificial environment. Allison had perfected a subtle daily routine for Emily using material priming and rewards for consistent behavioral changes. Treats in the form of food and attention kept Emily bombarded with positive reinforcements as she slowly succumbed to her new lifestyle. Oversleeping led to breakfast in bed, overeating led to words of affection and warm, cozy naps on the couch, and sometimes even a belly rub to ease the pain of her bloated belly. Emily was being waited on hand and foot by Allison and was slowly rescinding her ability to do anything herself without even knowing it.

“Emily, girl, I know you said you didn't mind putting on a few pounds for me to do my study, but you really blew this out of the water for me! I'm so proud of you, you don't understand how much your hard work means to me, girl!” Allison’s eyes were glued to Emily's soft and padded body as she lay on the couch, covered in crumbs and practically nude.

“Yeah I feel like a huge fucking cow right now, but it's been so easy to just let go and enjoy myself the past month. I could totally see myself doing this all the time if I had no repercussions, honestly.” Emily said without a second thought. Allison was sitting across the room from her on a barstool, typing away on her computer, but stopped in her tracks when she heard Emily say this. She grinned and looked at Emily, who was sunken into the couch, still tearing through a bag of Doritos as if the study hadn't ended a day earlier. Emily's once-toned body had taken the 30lb gain quite well. Her lower half had gained a considerable amount of fat, making her body have a bit of a pear shape to it. The silky smooth skin on her legs and thighs was spreading out like a heavy cream on the couch. Emily's ass had gotten considerably larger as well, now having cellulite and rippling with every step she took, which wasn’t much because of how lazy she had become recently. Emily’s stomach had softened and now had a pooch on the lower half that was peeking out from underneath her black crop top. The creamy soft skin was slightly jiggly and had slowly increased in size until it was prominent enough that Allison couldn’t take her eyes off of it. She thought Emily was closer to looking like a goddess every time she stole a glance. Allison noted that although she never confirmed it herself, she had heard through mutual friends that Emily had once had a fling with a girl for a few months. Maybe she could really see how soft and sexy Emily had gotten this past month…maybe she could trick her into getting even softer this month…

“Allison, are you listening to me? I said I want something sweet out of the fridge. Do we have anything to make chocolate milk with?”

“Oh- sorry Ems, uhh yeah I think so let me check for you,” Allison said pleasantly. Emily was still pretending the month hadn't ended, and Allison was all for it now that she had gotten herself all worked up over her roommate's new, fleshier body shape. 

Just thinking of how good it would feel to grab and caress her new soft, padded skin and cup her perky, slightly larger breasts had Allison rubbing her legs together as she knelt in front of the fridge. Suddenly, she had an idea. 

“Hey, Emily, I know that I only asked for a month of your hard work and dedication, but I think that if we did just a little more study work on you, I could really nail this report in the coffin, don’t you think, love?” Emily’s eyes shifted from the television to Allison’s smaller but enticing backside as she dug through the fridge. If Emily didn’t know any better she could have sworn Allison was showing off her tight bubble butt in an attempt to win her over with this proposal, not that she needed any convincing on her part, she had already taken the bait.

“Ally, I know this is a big deal, but I’m not sure how much longer I can afford to veg out all day and be your little lab hamster.” Emily teased sarcastically. “I mean, just look at how big I’m getting, I’ve never been jigglier in my life, and my belly is starting to sag downwards. I practically am a cow, and my legs are so thick they barely fit into my sweatpants.”

“I think you’re more of a lab cow than a hamster, Ems..” Allison retorted in a joking manner. “But if you asked me, I’d say you carry this new weight pretty well, I think you look pretty hot.” Allison was still turned away from Emily, but her face was red hot as she slowly stirred the chocolate into a large cup of “milk” that was heavy cream she had put into a milk jug. She then took some whipped cream and doused a large amount on top of the cream and chocolate calorie bomb and tried to keep her composure as she turned around and met Emily’s gaze. She had a shit-eating grin on her face and was slowly pushing a Twinkie into her mouth, wrapping her puffy cheeks and plump lips around it like it was something else. Allison almost fumbled the chocolate milk as she attempted to keep a straight face and remain calm, caught off guard by Emily’s new attitude towards her. 

“If you think that about me, mmph, then why don’t I just keep this up for a little longer and you can repay me when I think of something fitting as a favor.” Emily reached out for the milkshake with both hands and put on her best pouty face as she leaned forward, spilling her cleavage out of the too-small crop top and giving Allison a nice display of her newfound body. Emily’s large, jiggling breasts had completely robbed Allison of any focus she had remaining. Emily grabbed the drink with both hands by wrapping hers around Allison’s and pulled her and the drink in close. She brought the glass to her lips and began taking large sips while maintaining eye contact with her roommate. Allison was practically drooling and biting her lower lip, completely in a daze, inches from Emily’s face. She lowered her arms, bringing Emily’s hands and the drink down to rest on top of Emily’s soft and luscious thighs. They inched closer to each other and brushed their lips for a moment. Emily acted first and locked hers onto Allison, It was a deep, lustful kiss that lasted for a while. Allison could taste the sweetness of the heavy cream and chocolate. She wanted more, but Emily pulled away. “Maybe I know what kind of favor you can pay me back with later.” Emily teased. Allison remained in place, completely off guard by what had just happened. Her brain was running in every direction, and she was beginning to wonder who was really in control of this whole experiment… 

Emily awoke in her bed, the sheets clinging to the thick layer of fat that coated her body now. Thanks to Allison’s watchful gaze and nurturing hand, it had been another full month of indulgence. Allison was already out of bed and in the kitchen. They started sleeping together soon after their heavy back and forth, a little under a month ago. The two lovers swayed under each other's grasp. Allison relied on her cunning tactics and positive reinforcement, whilst Emily used her soft, doughy body to drive Allison wild. As Emily clumsily sat up and moved her legs to the side of the bed, the sheet fell off, revealing just how much damage she had done. Her chubby feet and thick calves led to enormous thighs like a sausage casing ready to burst. Swollen with fat and touching down to her knees, her legs had grown ravenously. Red stretch marks clung to her hips and waist, leading to a substantially larger ass that quivered and jiggled at any movement. Cellulite dotted across her fleshy rear, leading to a cute indentation like a large dimple atop her lower back. Her love handles were thick and juicy, begging to be grabbed and kneaded, resting lazily atop her hefty lower half. Emily’s belly was the next victim of her sedentary grazing. Long gone was her flat stomach or slightly jiggling pooch. Now there was a real belly forming in its place. A roll had found its way onto her lap when she was sitting down, and it pooled onto her meaty thighs enough to touch, but her panties remained visible for now. Emily’s upper body has also softened more slowly than the rest of her, but it was quite clear that she no longer resembled the lady she was two months ago. Emily hoisted herself out of bed in a rocking motion and lumbered to the bathroom, like a diligent little lab cow. She stepped on the scale and leaned forward to gaze over her belly. The thought of no longer being able to see her fat reflection in the scales' glass made her wet. She imagined being so fat she had to ask Allison how much she even weighed, and one day making the scale read an error. Emily shuddered at the thought and found herself playing with her soft and plush belly. The scale finally halted at a number that made Emily's eyes widen in surprise. 

196 lbs.! 6 lbs. over her mark from Allison and way beyond what she had even thought she had gained in the past month. 

Emily couldn’t believe her eyes, and she would have taken some more time to admire how sexy she was feeling, but a rumble in her stomach had reminded her of how often she had been eating to achieve such a rapid gain. She slowly turned around and padded across her carpeted floor back into her queen-size bed. The black and white covers invite her to crawl and wriggle back underneath them for the rest of the day while she grazes upon her lover's endless onslaught of treats and mind-numbing pleasures. Allison found Emily sitting up in bed, using her stack of pillows and squishmallows to prop up her growing body. Any core strength or stamina that once had graced Emily had quickly dissipated as her gain continued at a quickening pace. As she sauntered over to Emily, she realized her step felt a tad heavier and her ass felt bouncier than usual, but she brushed it off as a slight gain of only a few lbs. from spoiling her cow girl so much. Allison had started this project at a petite 115 lbs. and was not very interested in gaining much weight, she felt her role as a feeder and caregiver was much more suiting to her psychology report. Allison hadn’t had much time to continue her report past the first 30 days. Emily had grown increasingly needy and was ruthless in her pursuit of constant bliss. Allison would spend almost every second of her day feeding, comforting, and cleaning after Emily, only to crash into bed at the end of the day and enjoy how soft and warm Emily was as she snored off her excessive calorie binge. Allison often found herself eating whatever Emily had ordered and taking some naps during the day while Emily was off in paradise, enjoying her shows or mindlessly grazing and masturbating. By far, the most effective technique Allison had employed was rewarding Emily with an orgasm during and after a feeding session. Emily had managed to convince herself that she was in charge of these sessions often speeding up or slowing down the eating and fucking, however, Allison had already won by implementing such a routine and priming Emily’s brain to associate food and sex with her daily life. 

“How's my sleepy piggy doing this morning?” Allison cooed while carrying a large tray of waffles, bacon, butter, and syrup across the room. “I hope you didn’t use too much energy weighing yourself to enjoy this delicious meal I made for you!” Emily’s attention rapidly switched from her phone to Allison's sexy figure moving across the room to her. Her stomach did the talking for her as it rumbled loudly upon the sight of her favorite breakfast piled high on top of the tray. "It seems someone is always hungry and ready for a little reward if they finish everything here, isn’t that right, dear?” Emily nodded and reached out for the tray, taking it and propping it up on her belly.

 “Thank you so much, Ally, I love how you always know just what I want and have it ready for me,” Emily said, eyes growing in size as she studied the tray of goods. It seemed like every day the food grew in quantity and richness, but Emily didn’t mind at all and seemed clueless as to how she could always muster the strength to finish it all with increasing gusto. Emily quickly began to indulge herself in the hearty breakfast, tossing her phone to the side and using both hands to pile bacon in between waffles and slather them with butter and syrup. Allison retook her side of the bed and sat down, her thighs pooling outwards, and to her surprise, her stomach seemed to stretch outwards. She looked over at Emily, who was cramming her mouth full of food and staring almost blankly at the television, watching some reality show. Emily’s phone dinged, but she seemed not to notice or care enough to look over. Allison picked it up and saw she had a few emails from a website titled “Fat Admirers”. Interest piqued, Allison sneakily scrolled through the exchange and realized what Emily’s real intention was. She had opened an amateur account on a fat model website and was slowly racking up the views as a part-time model, showing off before and after, and just how rapid her gain had occurred. The username read “Thicc Cow Girl” and she had a few hundred page views a day. Allison took note and gently placed the phone face down. She reached over Emily’s flabby arm and grabbed a waffle and some bacon for herself. A few bites and she would go work on her course report, some while Emily was still full and happy, she told herself. 

Emily awoke a few hours later, still bloated and her stomach distended from such a gluttonous meal. She enjoyed the tight feeling of her upper stomach and its contrast to her now jiggling lower belly that seemed to get softer and rounder by the day. Allison was across the room at her desk, which was Emily's, but she never seemed to use it often. She preferred to do her few small online courses and Zoom calls in bed with an excuse that her camera had broken a few weeks ago. Emily studied Allison's body from across the room. Admiring how she had seemed to soften up. Emily guessed she weighed around 140 lbs. Nothing heavy, especially compared to Emily, but enough for some visible changes. Allison's legs were softer, her stomach had a small belly and her boobs had gotten rounder and heavier. Emily wished she would indulge a little more, but couldn’t complain. She enjoyed the body contrast when they were in bed together. Allison's smaller but softer body fit on top of Emily’s perfectly thick thighs and rounded gut. She seemed to know exactly how to drive Emily crazy, kissing and rubbing her distended belly and pinching her soft, puffy areolas until she was squealing and bucking. Toys were a necessity due to Emily being too full to put much effort into the stimulation herself. Often, Allison would use vibrators and dildos to entice Emily, then finish her off with an intense oral orgasm as she crawled in between Emily’s soft, juicy thighs and lapped at her with a fervent passion. Emily stopped daydreaming, realizing Allison was now standing in front of her, seemingly waiting for a response.

“I guess that look on your face is enough of an answer for me…” Allison said playfully as she crawled atop Emily, gently caressing her doughy gut and using her knee to apply pressure to Emily’s puffy fupa. She moaned in pleasure, eyes cocking back as Allison took the reigns per usual and brought them both to completion. Emily couldn’t remember the last time she had had a serious thought besides eating, cumming, or daydreaming of being fatter and fatter. 

Allison had been tidying up in the kitchen, but her mind was swimming with questions. How much longer can she keep Emily in her grasp? Will Emily gain too much traction with her modeling pictures? She could get attention from anyone interested in a bigger woman; hell, she could probably get anyone interested in a woman, period. Her face was still stunning, with a cute button nose and piercing, sharp green eyes, without mention of her perfect smile and plump, soft lips, as a result of the extra padding, a slight double chin, and slightly fatter cheeks bestowed Emily a rounder, softer yet stunning look. Allison had to reel her thoughts from wandering too far, and a knock at the door jarred her back to reality. 

“Must be the pizza guy,” she said quietly as she grabbed some cash off the bar island and headed to the front door. her ass bounced into the recliner as she made her way over, nearly tripping over herself. “Someone must have moved that chair, ugh, probably Emily’s big ass.” she thought to herself. Peering through the door’s peephole, Allison saw the red hat and a huge stack of pizzas. A perfect dinner for her growing cow, she thought. She swung the door open and scooped the pizzas out of the delivery boy's arms, handing him a tip through her index and middle finger as she shimmied backwards into the apartment.  “Thank you, sir, keep the change!” Allison said as she skillfully turned around and closed the door with her foot. 

“Who was that?!” Emily's voice echoed off the hallway walls and down the banister from her room upstairs. 

“Pizzas here, my precious!” Allison cried back. 

“Bring it up here, I'm staaarving!” Emily whined.

Allison was about to head up the stairs, but she had a better idea. 

“Why don't you come down here, Ems, I still need to do a little more work, and you can chill on the couch.” 

“Ally, just finish it later, I'm too -urp- full from snacks to come down.” 

“I guess you’ll just have to take a break from carb loading and wait then,” Allison said cunningly. It was time to get a little more aggressive with her tactics, and some good humiliation and teasing should do the trick just fine. She couldn't afford for Emily to forget how badly she needed her. Thanks to the rapid gain, Emily’s muscles dwindled, and her stamina was practically non-existent. Emily remained upstairs in silence for a while, the shower was running, so she must have decided to wash off after her last big meal a few hours ago. 

Allison was in the zone skillfully pecking away on her thesis report, when she heard the heavy footsteps plop down the hall and to the banister. 

“That pizza better be warm still, I’m ravenous right now -huff-“ Emily paused and caught her breath. Allison was surprised by Emily’s look, a full face of makeup complemented her already beautifully round face. The real show stopper however, was the cow print bikini Emily had hanging by threads over her burgeoning tits and massively plump ass. Everything was on full reveal as if she was putting on a show.

“It's all down here and ready to go for you, my plump princess.” Allison teased, craning her neck past her computer screen to watch Emily’s clumsily wobble down the stairs, admiring the sweet jiggle of her huge ass and doughy thighs. As Emily finally made it past the bottom of the stairs and towards Allison, she could have sworn her face was flushed from the walk down the stairs. 

“Someone looks winded,” Allison said, standing up and sauntering over to meet Emily on the couch with some pizza and wine

“Oh, whatever, I'm not a marathon runner,” Emily shot back, grabbing the plate and plopping down. Her whole body shook, boobs bouncing up and down as she sunk into the sofa. 

“Besides, I know someone who really enjoys how I look now, don't we, my small fry?” Allison couldn't deny such a comment but was just getting her banter started. It was time to apply some pressure and take control of the flustered Emily. 

“Yeah, I'm sure all your fans would love to see your flabby, out-of-shape, heavy-breathing and soft jiggling piggy body make it down those stairs again.” Allison purred, grabbing a slice of pizza and holding it up to Emily’s mouth.

“My -mmph- fans? What are you talking about, Ally? “ Emily was in shock, her eyes widened, but still managed to take a huge juicy bite out of Allison’s hand like it was muscle memory.

“C’mon, Ems, don't be coy, I know you're a feedee in the closet, well, you’d barely fit into a closet now, would you, dear piggy?” Allison was calculating and sat mockingly for Emily's reaction to place the pizza directly under her nose again, driving home how much Emily wanted another bite. Emily whimpered softly, unsure of what to do. She slowly opened her mouth, drooling and begging for another bite. 

“I’m sorry Ally, I just, I’ve been doing so poorly in school and I don’t even feel like finishing my classes, I haven't even been on Zoom in bed, I’ve just been pretending to study while you work so hard for the both of us…” Allison shoved the pizza into Emily’s mouth. She almost felt bad for teasing Emily and calling her out, but something about it felt so good at the same time. The control, the seizing of the moment, and such a beautiful goddess caught up in her own words, begging to be hand-fed all for her. Allison felt as if she had Emily in the palm of her hand.

“Ems, what do you mean by work hard for both of us…” Allison’s voice trailed off as she realized exactly what it meant. Emily was convinced Allison would never leave her; no, she needed Allison more than anything. Without her, there would be no excuse for her rapid weight gain,  laziness, or inability to pass her simple Zoom classes. Emily had quickly discarded her regular life long ago, and now Allison was her only path forward. Allison’s eyes met Emma’s, and they both seemed on the same page. Emma shoved the whole slice into her mouth, making sure to suck the sauce off Allison’s fingers with her most seductive face possible. She breathed heavily, practically eye fucking Allison to win her over. 

“Emma, if you want to take us to the next step, then you’re gonna have to impress me a whole lot more than you already do, darling.” Allison got up and went into the pantry. She then grabbed a beer bong and stood tall over Emma’s lazy body, holding the funnel out and grabbing the wine. “I want my piggy to use these pizzas and wine as a demonstration of just how great she can be for me. Just show me how much softer and rounder you want to be my Thicc Cow Girl.” The words echoed through Emma’s head; she was instantly wet, but also surprised by how well everything was turning out. Nobody had ever put her in such a situation; this was a door that once opened, she knew she would never return from. The line between an “experiment”, if there was one to begin with, and devoting her life to pleasing Allison, getting fatter and softer, devouring everything in her path, and being the hedonistic, lazy cow she had always wanted to be subconsciously. Emily knew she had wanted this for a while now, unsure of how long ago her primal desires had bubbled up, but certain they were her own. Emily grabbed the funnel and locked eyes with Allison, her eyes screaming, “Please let me show you!”. Allison emptied the whole wine bottle in, and Emily guzzled it all down like a vacuum.

“UUUUURP- Ally, I-I’m sorry I tried to go behind your back, I just want to impress you so bad.” Emily put the funnel down and grabbed Allison's hands, squeezing them with assurance. “I won’t lie to you again, I’m sorry.” Allison hadn’t expected such a reaction, but eager to cement her status as the feeder, accepted Emily’s apology and grabbed a few boxes of pizza. Now it was time for Allison to enact total control over Emily’s lifestyle and have some fun. Emily knew everything had played out perfectly so far, and now it was time for the real show to start. 

“You know, Ally, I think I always wanted this… kind of relationship with someone that’s so balanced yet wild.” Emma was lying back, her belly massive and packed to the brim with wine and pizza. She was drunk and stuffed to the gills, high off of several orgasms and loving life.

“Well, Ems, I’m just glad things turned out this way. I’ve always liked you, but once you started putting on weight for me, I just couldn’t resist any longer. I knew I needed you completely under my control so we could enjoy each other.” Emily cocked an eye open and slowly raised her head, it was almost painful to sit up, but she knew now was the perfect time for her plan to spring into action. 

“Ally, help me up, please. I’m not done showing you how much of a good piggy I am,” Emily said seductively. She lifted her arms and let Allison take hold, she grunted as her weight slowly lifted off the couch and she stood up, belly massively distended and poking out in front of her. Emily attempted to bend over and grab another box of pizza, but almost toppled over from the sheer weight of her gut. Allison was so turned on she could barely tell if Emily was putting on a show or was truly this enamored with being her ditzy prize cow.

“Woah! Easy girl, you’re at max capacity right now!” Allison said, worrying she may have broken Emily down too far, too quickly.

“This one’s not for me, babes.” Emma slowly stood upright, one hand holding the pizza and the other pushing Allison down onto the couch. As smoothly as an overfed cow could, Emily lowered herself on top of Allison and pinned her underneath her bloated belly, which sloshed and jiggled in Allison’s lap. The pair was both so turned on that it all happened as smoothly as butter. 

“Ugh, Emily, you’re so heavy, and what do you mean that isn’t for you? You know I can’t eat that much, cut it out!” Emily folded the pizza in half and shoved it into Allison’s open mouth. “Mmmph, what’s the big idea, girl!” Allison tried to protest, but was met with an unending torrent of pizza. Emily smiled wickedly as she force-fed her helpless feeder bite after bite. No amount of squirming could free her from Emily’s thick, fat-laden body. 

“You know, I’ve been getting so big for you, but I think I want my lover to indulge herself for me too sometimes, god, imagine how fucking hot it would be if we were both so huge and soft, our bellies pressing into another as we stuff each other and grow softer, rounder, bigger, for each other.” Emily’s body shuddered, her fat jiggling all over. She had just orgasmed at the thought of what she had said, and Allison was slowly building up tension herself, slowly succumbing to Emily’s words and enticing body enveloping her in juicy warmth. Emily grabbed a bottle of rose and put it to Allison’s lips. Half of the pizza was gone now, and Emily had no intention of stopping. Allison drained the bottle, sucking it dry with a fervent passion. Her head was swimming with thoughts, but she couldn’t focus on anything but how full and aroused she was.

“Ems, I can’t do this. We both know one of us has to be in charge, and it’s me.”

“But is it? Does it always have to be you? All of your hard work to make me a submissive sow, and no fun for you at all? I think we should both be rewarded sometimes.” Emily plunged her tongue into Allison's mouth, her fat cleavage pressing onto Allison's smaller frame, enveloping her. Allison let go of her remaining will, accepting defeat as she locked lips with Emily. She was completely lost in a storm of bliss and passion, unable to deny herself anymore. After another hour of cooing and prodding, Emily had successfully incapacitated Allison for the night.

The two girls lie motionless on the couch, cuddled up as best as they could without aggravating each other's fully stretched stomachs. Emily was still slightly awake, pondering the past few hours of passion and intensity. She knew she would end up the bigger girl, but was determined to make sure Allison wasn’t far behind. She gazed at the stairs that overlooked the couch from across the room. Her phone was still sitting just where she had placed it, hopefully recording everything that had unfolded that night. Emily knew she had hours of prime feedism content ready to upload after a little polish work. A few more sessions like this and she would be raking in the money and piling on the pounds with her “feeder” Allison doing the same. 

It had been two months since Emily uploaded her hour-long stuffing video titled “Tricking my dom feeder into getting fat for me!” She was raking in new subscriptions faster than imaginable. With her career taking off and money steadily increasing, Emily took a final step into the deep end and dropped out of college. She was now a full-time fetish model and had no intention of ever going back. Emily was now 250 lbs and looked fuller than ever. Her double chin had fully formed, giving her plump lips and cheeks a softer look overall and a glowing warmth when she smiled. Her upper body was now matching her soft, juicy ass below, with her belly sticking far past her thick, bloated thighs and her upper arms being so fat they looked overfilled with lard. None of her clothes fit, but she didn’t wear much besides bathrobes and lingerie for filming. Emily’s ploy to fatten Allison succeeded with ease. Hours of staying in to finish her final study, and Emily’s rampant appetite and sexual hunger had left Allison as homebound as Emily. She had been ordering more and more takeout and kept Allison topped off on snacks and sexual favors for the last two months. The formerly fit girl was now a real fat girl at 180lbs. Emily still wasn’t satisfied, but remained steadfast to plump her oblivious lover up to her standards. 

“Emily, can you help me with something really quick?” Allison asked, fully absorbed in her work. “Can you describe how it felt when you were at your starting weight and how you feel now at 250 lbs? I’m like maybe two days away from finishing this thing, so we’re officially almost done with this experiment.” Emily peeked around the corner of the bathroom door and smiled sheepishly. 

“Well, when I was skinny, I felt like life was dull. I felt that I was missing something. I hated my career choice and was dragging myself through school, half aware of what I was doing. But now, well, I feel great. I love spending every hour of my day binging my favorite food, enjoying all the drinks I want, and stuffing myself silly knowing every pound will make me more money and drive you even wilder than the last. I love how scary it is. I've been gaining so fast -huff- and things like talking for this long make me out of breath. I love smothering your smaller frame with my fat fucking cow body, and the sex is so good I’m practically wet right now.” Emily waddled from behind the door, fully nude, and her nipples were hard. “I can’t even talk about it, it -huff- turns me on so fucking much.” Emily was squeezing her legs together and fondling her overstuffed gut. She eyed Allison down greedily and slowly waddled over. “I think someone else has been enjoying it too, so much so they decided to join me.” Allison was in a trance, enamored by Emily’s passion and so turned on she almost didn’t hear the last part. 

“You’re joking about the last part, right? You’re a giant cow, and I’ve still retained my sexy body despite your pleas to fatten me up.” Allison lacked confidence in her tone, and Emily pounced on it. 

“Allison, get naked for me,” Emily said, grabbing some unfinished donuts off their bed from her midday snack. The food and Emily’s delicious naked body encapsulated Allison, demolishing any thought in her head like a trance. She reached for the hem of her shirt but realized it wasn’t at her waist; rather, it rolled up comfortably at the top of her belly. It was so, so soft and squishy, but how and when had it gotten so much bigger? Allison didn’t care, she disregarded the thought and looked at Emily, her thighs jiggling in unison with her stomach and tits. Emily raised the donut to her lips and brought her hand to Allison's womanhood. “If you like how huge and soft I am, why don’t you stuff me full of these fattening little donuts and blimp me up so you can fuck me more baby?” Allison was soaked and hurriedly grabbed the donut from Emily and placed it into her mouth. Emily leaned over Allison, her puffy tits hanging inches from her face while her belly pressed into her thighs. The warm, soft feeling of Emily’s body and her moaning while she devoured the donut was driving Allison crazy with lust. She tried to get up and grab another donut, but Emily leaned farther forward, shoving her fat, corpulent body onto Allison. The chair strained to hold both of their weight despite Emily not even fully on it. Emily finished the donut and grabbed another, taking a bite and then putting it to Allison's lips. “Why don’t you enjoy some too? You deserve it for making me such a fat, greedy cow.” Allison opened her mouth and finished the second donut, then a third, and a fourth. After a few more minutes of stuffing and stimulation, Allison came hard. Her belly was stuffed tight, and her head was dizzy from such an orgasm and sugar rush. Now she would crash and sleep for a few hours while Emily downloaded the camera footage and uploaded another video to make hundreds off of. 

This cycle repeated for weeks and months. Emily fattening herself up and sneakily feeding Allison, priming her brain to crave food and sex just like she had to her. Allison lost motivation to finish her study, motivation to even show up to class, and spent her days making excuses and dulling her mind with Emily.

“I’m so tired, I’ll just take a quick nap,” Allison said, crawling into bed beside her large, soft, warm partner, falling asleep with her distended belly digesting a huge meal. “This report still has a few weeks left, there’s no use doing it now.” Allison thought, taking a large sip from the milkshake Emily had door dashed her. “God, I feel so bloated, I’m really overdoing it right now.” Allison would say as Emily shushed her and readied another bite. “Sometimes it’s worth oversleeping, waking up to your company, my fat cow.” Allison would coo while straddling Emily’s giant, flabby gut, her legs wrapped around her thick waist and dimpled, jiggly ass.

The excused continued for months while the two hedonists enjoyed their days shoveling down food, taking naps, and fucking constantly. As Emily ballooned further, Allison chased right after her, their bodies becoming softer, rounder, more fuckable. Cellulite dotted their huge asses and thighs, their stomachs went from stiff and hard from stuffing to jiggly and saggy, slowly creeping down their fat legs. Allison’s breasts remained firm and held themselves over her plump gut, but Emily’s had sagged and fought for space with her huge dome of fat she called a gut. Her stomach was so wide, it pushed her fat breasts further apart, peeking out from in between them. Emily was now 330 lbs and a complete cow, while Allison was 225 lbs and completely transformed into a happy fat cow like Emily wanted. Their joint content channel supplied all the money needed for bills and food. A new, bigger apartment and sexy outfits for videos came next, then sex toys and larger furniture to accommodate the two voluptuous women. Emily had finally won her battle, but remained far from stopping what she had started.

“Ooooh that feels so fucking good baby, fuck right there!” Emily huffed and grunted, her huge ass rippling and sending waves across her obese body. Her stomach touched the bed and she had two pillows propping her round face and fat tits off the bed. Allison was a sweating heaving mess, trying desperately to maintain speed while using a strap-on to plow into Emily’s bovine ass doggy-style. It was one of the few positions that could work for the two without their fat, lard-ripened bodies obstructing each other from pleasure. 

“I can’t-huff, uhhhhhhghhh- go much longer, Ems.” Allison was nearing climax, but her out-of-shape body was failing her. “I’m too fucking fat for this shit, -huff- and I’m about to cum from the vibrator inside me.” Allison bucked wildly for a moment then collapsed on Emily’s giant ass and back, the strap-on penetrating deep inside Emily as they both climaxed simultaneously. Emily moaned loudly, eyes rolling back as Allison trembled, jiggling her whole body. “I think we’re getting too fat for this position, we need to figure something out, love.” 

“I ordered something to accommodate us, don’t worry, Ally.” Emily huffed and grunted, breathing heavily despite having barely moved during sex. “Two fuck machines and two large funnels with a valve for opening and closing.” Emily giggled playfully, ready to fatten both of them beyond recognition.

[wafflefries13]

Murder on the Mr. Bluebird Express (TWST x Reader)

Summary:

It's your birthday! To celebrate, Malleus has scored you and all your friends tickets on the famous Mr. Bluebird Express. As you all board the train, isolated with no cell service, the night can only go well, right? ... Right?

Warnings: Slight depictions of blood and gore (?), character injury, happy ending (I promise, guys, I can't follow through with angst to save my life), can be read as platonic or romantic, afab reader with she/her pronouns

Cross posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Author's note: I've always loved mysteries, so this is my first try at actually writing one. Not sure how good it actually is, but if you never practice you'll never get any better at it. I got the idea from an episode of Detective Academy Q, if anyone has ever seen that anime. Thanks for reading!

“Your birthday is soon, isn’t it?” Malleus asked as if he hadn’t marked the date on his calendar months ahead of time. “You must tell me what you would like for a present. No object is out of reach.”

(Y/N) waved her hand at him. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s on a weekend, which is good. Having the day off is pretty much all I really want. Well, you know, as much a day off as I can get. I’m sure Crowley will find something else for me to do.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ooh, maybe we can go into town. I wouldn’t mind if you get me lunch from that one cafe in Foothill Town.”

“Nothing would make me happier.” He said, putting a hand to his chest and bowing regally. (Y/N) laughed, shoving him playfully. Green fireflies swirled around them, the only light accompanying the stars on the moonless night. Although it was late, Malleus and (Y/N) had become more than accustomed to their late night walks at this point that they were both wide away at this time of night no matter what.

“Oh, don’t let me forget,” (Y/N) said suddenly. “Sebek lent me a book the other day. Would you be able to give it back to him for me? We don’t have any classes together tomorrow.”

“Of course. What book was it?”

(Y/N) spread her hands wide in front of them, as if displaying the title. “Midnight Rose. It’s a murder mystery about the bookworm daughter of a crazy professor. There’s a bunch of mysterious, animal attack-like deaths in their small country village, and her father is blamed, so she has to find the real murderer while teaming up with a local nobel with a dark secret. Apparently it’s a classic here. I used to love reading mysteries back in my world. My favorite classic author was Agatha Christie. She had amazing stories and I loved trying to guess the end.”

“Do tell,” Malleus said.

“Let’s see. She had a bunch of really famous ones. And Then There Were None is about a bunch of seemingly unrelated people being invited to an isolated island before mysteriously dying off one by one. Murder on the Nile is a locked room mystery on a boat during a newlywed party. Crooked House has this big sprawling mansion and a ton of suspects. Oh, one of my favorites is Murder on the Orient Express. That one’s on a train and it’s really cool because the culprit is-” She cut herself off with a sly smile. “Well, spoilers for a book that came out, like, a hundred years ago and you’ll probably never be able to read, but still.”

“It sounds like a thrilling experience.”

“Oh, yeah. I think that one’s my favorite because it all takes place on a train. A lot of other countries in my world have these really extensive train networks with all these fancy cars, but it’s not too common in my country. I guess I like to romanticize something like that. Even with the murder.”

Malleus’ eyes twinkled. “Ah, I see. Unfortunately, my dear child of man, we may have to reschedule dining at the cafe. I believe you’ve given me a much better idea of how to celebrate your birthday.”

And that was how a gaggle of Night Raven College students found themselves waiting in a train station, late evening light casting long shadows across the marble floor. The station was almost empty this time of day, only open for the specialty train they were waiting for. (Y/N) looked around her group of friends, giddy that they had all agreed to come on such short notice. Even Leona and Idia, who she knew would rather avoid most responsibility or social situations, had somehow been wrapped up in attending.

Everyone had dressed up for the occasion, as based on the proposed dress code that had been attached to the ornate invitation Malleus had sent out earlier that week. To (Y/N), it reminded her of old Roaring 20’s glamor, suits with detailed beadwork, fancy hats, suspenders, glittering accessories, and slicked styled hair. (Y/N) had found her own flapper-style dress in one of the many abandoned rooms of Ramshackle. A doting Professor Crewel had volunteered to revive the painted silk dress for her special day, including lending her an elegant strand of pearls she looped several times around her neck. Apparently, the style was to reminisce about when the train first came into service during the golden age of non-magical transportation. Whatever the reason, it made (Y/N) feel daring and fancy, like she was a secret princess about to escape into an elegant speakeasy.

“(Y/N)!” Ace called her. She walked over to the Heartslabuyl group standing in front of a large mural depicting their train and the route it would take.

“The Mr. Bluebird Express,” Grim read out. “What a weird name for a train.”

“Is it?” (Y/N) asked. “I always thought trains were like race horses, they always have crazy names. The California Zephyr, the Twilight Limited, the Flying Pussyfoot.”

“I think it’s cute,” Cater said, catching the last of the dying light to get the perfect selfie. “It’s a really famous luxury line. My sisters were super jealous when I told them we were coming. Happy birthday, (Y/N)!” He pulled her into another picture and she smiled and waved.

“Of course, we’ll only be on part of the line tonight,” Riddle said, tracing his finger along the diagram for the scenic ride they were taking for dinner. “Thank you for including us on your birthday.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else!”

“I’m impressed we were able to get so many tickets last minute,” Trey said. “But, well, I guess Malleus is Malleus.”

“Who cares about scenery!” Grim said, jumping off (Y/N)’s shoulder to hover in the air. “A fancy ride like this probably has super fancy food! When do we get to eat?”

(Y/N) laughed, reaching forward to readjust Grim’s new bow. “The train should get here soon. You won’t starve.”

“Says you. Ugh, I’m fading already. Head, fuzzy, everything going dark.” He dramatically put a paw to his forehead, rolling his eyes and drooping in the air. (Y/N) caught him, holding him close and scratching behind his ears until he perked back up and purred.

They all looked up as a train whistle sounded off in the distance, rapidly approaching. Each dorm group made their way out to the platform, necks craning down the track to watch the train pull into the station. It was a beautiful almost pearlescent dark blue with gold filigree swirling and dancing around the engine and cars. A tall smoke stack on the engine car blew out white steam that twinkle with starburst sparks. Mr. Bluebird Express was written in elegant, swooping golden script along the side of the train. The train hissed to a stop at the platform, a side door clicking open.

Malleus stepped forward, dark and elegant in his black and forest green suit. He held out a black glove clad hand. “Happy birthday, dearest (Y/N).” He said. “After you.”

Kalim whooped behind them. “Happy birthday, (Y/N)!” That started up a round of applause and well wishes from the crowd, even the more reluctant and serious members.

(Y/N) smiled at her friends, heart swelling. She couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky she felt at this moment. The people who mattered most to her in this world, who she had been through so many trials and tribulations with, who she had seen grow and change and had grown and changed with them. Even in this strange world, she knew she wouldn’t want to be or with anyone else. She blinked back happy tears, turning back to Malleus and taking his hand, stepping up the small stairs into the train car.

Her feet immediately sunk into the plush maroon carpet of the train car. She spun around to take in the beautiful interior. The dining car had large rectangular windows, dark wood booths along one side with elegant white dishes and sparkling silverware. There was a bar curving along one end of the car, stocked with crystal glasses and all manner of bottles. A three-tiered blue and white birthday cake sat on top, sparklers fizzing from each tier.

“Wow,” (Y/N) breathed. Malleus stood next to her, eyes sparkling and smiling so wide his fangs were visible. “Hornton, you really pulled out all the stops.”

“I’ll admit,” Leona said, sounding reluctant as he fell into one of the overstuffed leather chairs, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. “It’s not too bad.” (Y/N) thought he looked like a prohibition mob boss.

“I haven’t even been able to secure tickets for the Mr. Bluebird Express before,” Vil said, admiring the detailed work on the wainscotting. His hair was swept to the side, dressed in an elegant dark purple suit that went from fitted around his chest and arms to sweeping, almost skirt-like, around his legs.

“So this is what it feels like to be rich,” Ruggie smirked, standing next to the bar that seemed to have one fewer expensive bottles of bourbon than it did before. “I can see how you can get used to it.” He readjusted his fedora, ears poking out to twitch at the sides. As everyone filed into the dining car, the door clicked shut behind them.

After a moment, they felt the movement of the massive wheels below them, the train pulling away from the station with another whisted from the engine.

“Should there be staff?” Jamil asked. “A conductor or ticket taker?”

“We have the entire train reserved for ourselves,” Malleus said. “While the usual route has staff to attend to guests, as this is a shorter trip the train is limited to only the necessary attendants in the engine. Anything else we would need is supplemented by magic.”

As if waiting for his cue, sparkles swirled around the plates, food appearing and glasses filling out of nowhere.

(Y/N) slid into a booth at the far end next to the bar with Grim, Ace, and Deuce. Each booth was occupied by another group of four. Next was Riddle, Trey, Jamil, and Leona. Second was Kalim, Cater, Lilia, and Ruggie. Past them was Malleus, Sebek, Vil, and Rook. Fifth was Idia, Ortho, Floyd, and Epel. In the last booth were Azul, Jack, and Silver. The car filled with conversation and laughter, people frequently leaning over other booths to talk to the different groups. At one point, Floyd and Ortho started confiscating everyone’s salad forks to build a complicated tower by linking all their tines. Once everyone had finished each course, the remnants would be magically whisked away and replaced with the next, much to the annoyance of Grim who kept trying to lick his plate clean.

Finally, it was time for the centerpiece dessert. Both Jack and Rook held up the cake on its round silver platter, bringing it from the bar to (Y/N)’s table. Some of them slid out from their booths to crowd around (Y/N)’s table, the others standing or watching from their own. “Happy birthday to you~” Everyone started singing.

The train whistled, sharp and loud, reverberating down the train.

“Happy birthday to you!”

Outside the train, the twilight scenery went black as the train entered a tunnel, the only light the glow from the magical floating lamps and sconces in the car.

“Happy birthday, dear (Y/N)~”

The lights flickered, a few voices faltering to look up at the quivering illumination.

“Happy birthday to-”

The dining car plunged into darkness. Every light snuffed out at once, even the flares on the cake fizzling out at the same time. There were a few gasps of surprise, low murmurs of confusion.

“Hang on!” Cater called out. He already had his phone out, filming the song. With a quick swipe and tap, his phone light was on, sweeping it around the room. “I got it… huh?”

The train barreled out of the tunnel, blue evening light flooding back in through the windows at the same time the interior lights clicked back to life. There was a collective sigh of relief, the terror of uncertainty in the dark banished once again.

“That was weird,” (Y/N) said.

“Who cares?” Grim said, eyeing the cake. “Let’s eat!”

“Easy,” Deuce said. “(Y/N) gets the first sli-”

Kalim screamed. Everyone spun around to look at their booth. Kalim was half way standing in his seat, back pressed against the glass. His eyes were wide, locked in place on something next to him (Y/N) couldn’t see as it was blocked by the back of the booth. Jamil immediately darted forward, vaulting himself over the chair of his own booth to practically tackle Kalim out of the way and onto the floor. Jamil forced Kalim to look away, the latter's eyes bubbling with tears and he started sobbing into the formers’ dress shirt. Ruggie yelped, tripping over his own feet as he tried to quickly back away. He fell on his back, hat flying off his head.

“What?” (Y/N) said, panicked, standing. “What happened?”

Malleus turned to her, hand out and eyes wide, already pale face even paler. “(Y/N),” He said, and she could feel the seriousness of the situation from his use of her real name. “Don’t-”

But it was too late. A jerk of the train caused her to stumble closer to the far booth. Her arms pinwheeled out, trying to regain her balance. Still, she stumbled and fell on her knees in front of the booth. With the sound of Kalim crying behind her, and the gasps, strangled screams, and yells of the others in the group, (Y/N) looked up, straight into the cold ruby red dead eyes of Lilia Vanrouge.

The clatter of screams, shouting, and horrified rationalization dulled to an incoherent roar in her ears. She stared up at Lilia, brain slowing down, trying to rationalize what she was seeing. He was slumped over in his seat, face turned to the side to stare out unseeing, arms dangling limply at his sides. A silvery thin round disk protruded from just below his neck, lodged in his spine, blood dripping down the back of his white dress shirt. Shaking, her hand reached out, almost without her own volition. Just before her fingertips could tap Lilia’s hand, arms wrapped around her from behind, hauling her up and away. Deuce lugged her dead weight down the train car, depositing her back in a far booth facing away from Lilia’s body.

Lilia’s body. Lilia’s body. (Y/N) suddenly jerked up, head whipping around. “Where’s Silver?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck and pointed with his chin. Silver was sitting in his booth, head tilted back and eyes closed, asleep. (Y/N) wasn’t sure when his narcolepsy had taken over, but she hoped it was before they went through the tunnel. Ortho was sitting next to him, holding his hand. Idia stood between Ortho and Lilia’s booth, blocking his little brother’s line of sight, although he kept casting worried looks over his shoulder, whipping his head back down immediately after. Grim practically threw himself into (Y/N)’s stomach, burying his head into her middle. She clutched him tightly.

Leona came up to her booth, Ruggie close at his heels. “(Y/N),” Leona said. “Stay close to me, okay?”

“Okay.” She almost didn’t recognize her own trembling voice. Malleus was standing nearby, his back to her, staring out the window at the passing scenery. His shoulders were back, tense, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“Hornton?” (Y/N) asked, hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Are you-?” Are you what? Are you okay? Of course not, no one was. Her mind zipped through a thousand possibilities of what to say, what might possibly be the right thing, but everything fizzled on her tongue. He looked at her, once, expression unreasonable, before turning to walk farther into the car.

“We need to call the engineer,” Malleus said, voice breaking through the icy tension in the room. “We’ll need to stop at the nearest station and contact the authorities.”

“I’ve got it,” Azul said, tugging his gloves down farther on his trembling hands. He cleared his throat before reaching for an old fashioned corded phone on the wall by the door to the next car. Everyone’s eyes were locked on him as he waited for the other end to pick up. After a moment, Azul’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. He looked down at the phone, then pressed the dial flip a few times, phone back to his ear. “The line is dead.” He winced at the phrase.

“What?” Sebek snapped. His eyes were red. Beads of blood dotted his lower lip from where he was biting it to keep from wobbling. He marched forward and shoved Azul out of the way, jerking the phone up to his ear. After a frustrated second, he snarled, slamming the phone back on the receiver. “Then we’ll just have to go tell them in person!”

“Are we able to go up through the train?” Riddle asked.

“There are fewer cars than normal,” Malleus said. “But we do have access to the entire train. I’m sure the engineer wouldn’t be expecting us, but I believe they’ll understand our circumstances.”

“This car is at the very end,” Jade said. “I believe there were three others between us and the engine.”

“We don’t all need to go,” Jamil said. He still had an arm around Kalim, who had tears silently tracking down his face. “There’s too many of us to move quickly. And some of us should stay with…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“Two groups, then,” Jade said. “Enough to stay here and make sure the crime scene is preserved, and another to go to the front. That way we’ll have plenty of extra eyes watching our backs.”

“Crime scene?” Riddle echoed. “You’re not suggesting that we - that one of us is responsible for-”

“Who else? Razor sharp plates don’t just appear in people of their own accord.”

“I think,” Trey said. “It’s from the cake.”

“The cake?” Ruggie balked.

“It’s to separate the tiers, I think.” Trey nervously adjusted his glasses, falling back into something familiar to ground himself. “Bakers use them to keep the tiers from sinking into each other. Usually they’re not made of metal like that, of course. Look, the middle tier is already going down.”

They all looked over to the bar where the cake had been abandoned. Sure enough, the middle tier was leaning on one side, falling further into the bottom. There was a smear of frosting from where the separator plate had been yanked free.

“You didn’t make the cake?” Deuce asked.

“No,” Malleus answered for Trey. “I had it ordered to be delivered on board before we arrived. It was made by a local bakery near the station. I didn’t mean it as a slight, Clover. I didn’t want to distract anyone with work.” Trey lifted his hand, brushing away the concern.

The group quickly decided who would go up to the engine and who would stay behind. Malleus, Sebek, Vil, Jade, and Jack would go through the three other train cars up to the front, battering down the engine room door if they had too, while the rest of the group stayed.

“I don’t like this,” Ace said in a quiet voice to (Y/N). “Splitting up, I mean. It’s like no one’s ever seen a horror movie before.” Still, the group headed out in a solemn mood.

Someone had draped Lilia’s dark blue and lime green pinstripe suit jacket over him. It bulged awkwardly over the plate stuck in his spine. (Y/N) swallowed hard at a sudden wave of nausea.

The dining car was quiet, filled with the sounds of the wheels chugging underneath them and the whispered conversations of those left behind. Every once and a while there would be a muffled cry and sniff. No one really seemed to know what to do with themselves, ever switching before sitting stone still, fidgeting, or pacing around the car.

(Y/N) spotted Cater sitting on the floor near the door where they had entered, legs spread out in front of him, eyes locked on his phone. His forehead was creased in concentration, teeth worrying his lower lip. She tapped Leona’s arm so he could let her slide out of the booth and walked over to him.

“Cater?” (Y/N) asked.

Cater didn’t look up from his phone. He kept tapping it, dragging his finger to restart a video, watching, then rewinding it again.

“Cater?” She said again. This time he startled, looking up.

He flashed a warm smile that felt out of place in such a dour setting. “Hey, yeah, what’s up?”

‘What’s up?’ (Y/N) thought. Out loud, she said, “What are you watching?”

He showed her the screen as she sat next to him. “It’s the video I was taking earlier, when we were singing to you.”

(Y/N) felt a lump form in her throat. She watched everyone’s happy faces on the tiny screen, dread sloshing in her stomach in anticipation of what she knew was coming. The flickering lights, the black out, a murder in the dark. Right on cue, the screen turned black. She almost felt like she could see movement from the camera swinging around in confusion, the lens rapidly trying to adjust to the new lack of light. She closed her eyes hard, fighting back a lightheaded feeling.

Cater drew his phone back. “Sorry, I get that you wouldn’t want to see that.”

“I don’t understand,” She said, voice cracking. She sat down hard next to him. “Who would do this? How, even? He’s on the same level as Hornton, magic wise, I can’t imagine anyone sneaking up on him. And why?” Hot tears bubbled along her lashes. Cater put an arm around her and pulled her close. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” Cater said. “That’s why I was watching this. When I had my flashlight on, I thought I saw something weird. I’ve been trying to find it again. Maybe it could be a clue. Do you…Want to see?”

She pressed her lips together hard. Finally, she gave a stern nod. Cater shuffled closer, holding the phone back up to play the video from the beginning.

The camera swung up as the video started. It swept over the car, showing everyone smiling and jovial. A few of them stood, taking their positions as Jack and Rook collected the cake. (Y/N) saw Lilia catch the eye of the camera, giving a wink and waving. She gulped hard. Their singing came out in low, tinny volume from the phone speakers. (Y/N) felt strange as she watched the lights flicker, knowing what was about to happen, watching her own face blink and look up in confusion. Even though she knew it was coming, she still startled a little as the screen suddenly went black. The camera swung around in the dark, black shapes against a black background. Cater’s phone light turned on, sweeping across the room to briefly illuminate blurred figures. Shortly after, the lights came back on. Cater had focused back on (Y/N)’s table. She could see the smear on the cake frosting already, even though it was still being held up. Her heart dropped in her stomach as she heard Kalim’s scream. The camera whipped around to Lilia’s booth, just in time to catch Jamil leaping across to drag Kalim to safety. She saw herself fall in front of the booth, looking up at Lila. The camera focused on the scene for a handful of chilling seconds, before dropping down to the floor and cutting out.

“Did you see something?” She asked. She pointed at the screen, just after the phone light came on.

“Maybe? I think so, that’s why I was watching it back. I just can’t figure it out.”

“Well, two pairs of eyes are better than one, right? Play it again.” Cater pulled back on the recording. The video played out the same two more times. On the third, (Y/N) stopped him.

“Wait!” She said suddenly. “Go back! Just a few seconds.” Cater slowly pulled back the replay, the dark scene reversing frame by frame. “There! See?” She jabbed a finger at the screen.

Cater squinted. “I don’t see anything.”

“Exactly! That’s Lilia’s seat! He was there before the lights went out, and he was there when they came back on, but he’s not there when it’s dark!”

“Oh!” Cater said, excited. His face fell again. “What does that mean?”

“I… Have no idea. But it has to be important right? Was he still sitting at the booth before he was…” ‘Say it,’ (Y/N) thought. ‘If you’re going to have any chance of finding out what happened, you have to say it.’ “Before he was killed? Does that mean that someone moved him?”

Cater looked back down at the screen. “The lights were only off for-” He checked the video timeline. “Eleven seconds. I turned my flashlight on after about 6 seconds, here, see?”

“So not a very big window of time. And look, Kalim is sitting next to Lilia by the window and Epel is standing on the outside next to him. How would they have not noticed if he was moved?”

Cater bit his lip again. “You know,” He said slowly. “There’s something else that I-”

“Did I miss eating cake?” Silver said. He was rubbing his eyes, blinking at everyone’s shocked stares.

“Silver,” (Y/N) started, after several moments of tense silence. She felt responsible, somehow. That because it was her birthday party, she was the reason Lilia had been put into the exact right, or wrong, circumstances that lead to his death. She stood, holding her hands up as if she was going to confront a terrified animal. “It’s… I’m sorry, Lila is…”

“Father?” Silver asked. He stood, looking around the room. “Is he with everyone else? Where did they go?”

“No, Silver, I don’t know how to say this, but, but he-”

“(Y/N)!” Cater hissed, jumping up, fingers digging into her arm. She turned to him, Cater pointing frantically to the booth where Lilia’s body was. Or, rather, where Lilia’s body had been.

The seat was empty. Lila was gone.

Everyone immediately started looking around. (Y/N) knew it was useless from the beginning, but joined in anyway. What else were you meant to do when your recently deceased friend disappeared from a small room with only one door out?

“It’s just like the video!” She said. “Maybe this is the way he was moved during the blackout.”

“What video?” Jamil asked. (Y/N) and Cater told everyone about Lilia disappearing before, everyone crowding around the phone to see the video.

Silver gasped at the end, showing Lila’s body. “That…” He started. He shook his head. “No, that’s not real, it can’t be. Father wouldn’t-” He started blinking fast, looking around. “I need to find him.” Silver pushed his way out and barrelled through the door to the next car.

“We should go find the others anyway,” Riddle said. “To let them know about Lilia.”

“I’ll go,” (Y/N) volunteered.

“I’m coming with you,” Leona said. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t want you or anyone else alone.” Ace, Deuce, Cater, and Epel also volunteered.

The next car was a viewing car. The entire upper half was made of glass with a series of swiveling round backed chairs lining the sides. It would have been a beautiful place to spend the evening counting stars and watching the moon rise. The dark night outside seemed to encroach on their group and they rushed through the car to the next. The next car was a luggage car, stuffed with packages and cases from previous voyages. The lights were off. Leona flipped the switch several times, clicking uselessly.

“Watch your step,” He said.

The luggage car was stuffed with crates and pallets among other suitcases and hat boxes. A rough path had been cut through the center, and they had to walk single file. The light was hazy, only filtering in through the small windows in the doors at the front and back of the car.

“So,” Ace started, trying to break the unnerving silence. “Any idea how Lila could have been moved?”

“Maybe there’s some sort of hidden hallway?” Deuce theorized. “Or like a service entrance?”

“Isn’t that kind of a trope?” Epel said. “Secret passages?”

“That feels more like an old mansion sort of thing than a train, like Ramshackle,” Deuce said, “I can’t imagine there’d be any room.”

“I’ve found a couple, actually, in Ramshackle” (Y/N) said. “There’s one behind the bookcase in the guest room that leads upstairs. I think I might make it a second guest room, too, since it-” (Y/N) was cut off as she tripped. She caught herself just before she tumbled down. “Careful,” She said, looking back and aiming her phone flashlight to see what she had tripped over. “There’s something-”

She stopped short, words withering in her mouth. Her light trailed up a shoe, leading to a leg that ended abruptly at a crate. She took a sharp step backward, crashing into a luggage cart. It rattled behind her, something heavy and warm falling against her arm. Her heart already thundering, she turned to push it off. Only to be met by Jade’s face, lips going blue, eyes frozen open in shock, cut off at the waist in a pool of dark red, placed precariously on top of a suitcase.

She screamed, throwing herself backward, Epel clumsily catching her as they both stumbled away from the corpse. Panic quickly overtook the group as, between yelps and thundering hearts, they sped through the rest of the car, throwing open the door at the other end and launching themselves across the divide and into the next car. Ace pressed his back tightly against the door of the car, as if he could physically bar the image of Jade’s bifurcated body from their minds.

“(Y/N)?” Vil said, looking over the blundering group. The rest of the first team that had left to find the engineer looked back at them, confused. Vil took in their smaller group, the wide eyes and gasping mouths. His expression flitted between a mix of frustration, concern, and terror. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s- It’s Jade!” (Y/N) said, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as her voice scratched her throat. “We found his body!”

“What?” Jack said, ears going flat. “He just left. Are you sure?”

“Yes, we’re sure!” Ace snapped. “He was cut in half!”

Malleus’s hand on (Y/N)’s tightened as he helped her stand. “That’s not possible. We only sent him back to you all a minute ago.”

“The engine is empty,” Sebek said gravely, waving his hand at the door at the other end of the car to the engine room. “Jade was going to go back to the dining car and let you all know.”

“What did I say?” Ace said. “You can’t let people split up like this.”

“Wait,” (Y/N) said, looking around. “Where’s Silver?”

“He’s not still asleep in the dining car?” Sebek asked.

“He woke up and we told him what was going on,” Epel said. “He, you know, didn’t take it well. He ran out of the car this way to try and find you guys and we came after him.”

“It’s not like there’s anywhere else to go,” Deuce said. “He couldn’t have vanished into thin air between the dining car and here.”

“Speaking of disappearing,” Ace said. “Where are Cater and Leona?”

“Maybe they went the other way out of the car? Back the way we came in?” (Y/N) said.

“I told you!” Epel said. “There has to be some kind of secret passage! Maybe they went the same way whoever took Lilia went.”

“Who took Lilia?” Malleus asked.

(Y/N) tried to quickly summarize what had happened after the first group left, from Cater’s video, to Lilia’s body vanishing, to Silver charging ahead, to detailing finding Jade’s body in the luggage car.

Vil sighed sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “As much as I hate to admit it, Ace is right-”

“Hey!”

“We shouldn’t stay split up. Let’s regroup in the dining car. The train has to stop eventually. Either we can contact the police when we stop at the next station or if we pass through an area with cell service.”

(Y/N) clutched Grim to her chest at the idea of going back through the luggage car. She felt oddly ridiculous, like a child with a well loved stuffed animal asking their parents to check the closet for monsters. But how could she not feel the rising panic bubble in her chest at the thought of seeing one of her friend’s bodies again?

She jumped as Malleus brushed his fingers against her shoulder. He gave her a small smile, offering his arm. “Close your eyes and we’ll go through quickly,” He said in a low voice.

(Y/N) swallowed hard, threading her arm through his and pulling close, Grim clasped so close the heat from the blue fire in his ears warmed her face.

Whatever quiet conversation there was ceased immediately as they stepped back in the dark car. Phone lights came out, casting ghostly search lights across the car, bouncing on and over the clutter of bags and boxes. (Y/N) closed her eyes tight, pressing her face in Malleus’s arm.

“Jade’s not here,” Jack said.

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped open. “What?” She looked around the dark and cramped space. Sure enough, every body inside was breathing. She let go of Malleus’s arm and took a step forward. “No, wait, he was right here. He was like, half way though, right? I tripped over his legs right here.” She pointed to the floor where Jade’s legs had been splayed out. Only… No, wait, was that the same crate she had seen before? She scanned along the narrow walkway through the car, trying to find the familiar box, but she couldn’t find anything that matched the morbid memory in her head. The cogs in her brain churned. It was dark, but had these boxes been moved? Was this the same path they had taken through the car the first time? She turned back to the other first years. “You guys saw him too, right? I’m not just imagining things?”

“No, he was definitely here,” Deuce confirmed. “And besides, you still have some, uh, blood, right here.” He tapped his shoulder.

(Y/N) lifted her hand, touching the spot Deuce had indicated. Her fingers came away sticky, a sheen of red coating them in the low light. Jade’s blood must have dripped when his upper body fell against her. She felt her stomach clench and flip.

“Jade wouldn't be the first person to disappear tonight,” Epel said.

As they made their way through the observation car, with still no sign of Cater or Leona, (Y/N) felt her panic rise in anticipation of what might greet them in the dining car. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, muting any other sound. She felt clammy, breaking out in a cold sweat as Sebek reached for the door to the next car.

“There you all are,” Azul said in a relieved sigh. “What did the engineer say?”

No one said anything, the group who had stayed staring at the group who returned until the silence stretched and stretched, taught and uncomfortable.

Floyd’s head poked out from a booth, where he had been playing a card game with Riddle, Ortho, and Idia. “Where’s Jade?” No one answered. Several of them started shifting uncomfortably. Floyd frowned, eyebrows coming together. He stood. “Where’s Jade?”

“He-” (Y/N) started. She felt like she had a responsibility to break the news.

“We don’t know that,” Sebek interrupted. “He wasn’t there.”

“Lilia’s not here either,” Ace snapped. “But we’re pretty sure he’s dead, too.”

Azul stumbled back, going green, Floyd jumping up, teeth gnashing. The car exploded in a cacophony of raised voices, panicked questions and sharp words flying around. With a sinking feeling, (Y/N) realized Cater, Leona, and Silver weren’t present. They had vanished, too. And, if the only other ones who had disappeared were dead, what did that mean for them?

“I need some fresh air,” She murmured. She let go of Malleus, stumbling to the door at the back of the car. She pushed it open, standing on the tiny balcony as the rushing wind pulled at her hair and dress. She gripped the intricate wrought iron fence around the balcony until her knuckles went bloodless. She took deep, gulping breaths of the cold night air until her lungs hurt. She slumped forward, pressing her sweaty forehead against the cool metal.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand touched her back. She whipped around to see Ace holding his hands up.

“Sorry, sorry,” He said. “Should have said something first.” Deuce stepped out behind him, sliding the door closed.

“It’s okay,” She sighed. “I just… needed a second.” The two of them stood on either side of her, quiet as they stared out at the rushing landscape, train tracks blurring together into a solid road beneath them.

“Here,” Deuce said, offering her a handkerchief from his blazer pocket. “For the… blood.”

“Right, thanks.” She dabbed at the spot, trying to think of a way to explain to Professor Crewel how the dress he had worked so hard on had been stained. Even if it was able to be cleaned, she wasn’t sure she would ever want to wear it again. Her mind wandered for a second, until her hand froze, pressed against the damp spot on her shoulder. She pulled the handkerchief back, staring at the red stain. And then licked it.

“Whoa!” Deuce exclaimed.

“(Y/N)! Gross!” Ace cringed.

“It’s not blood,” (Y/N) said. She shoved the handkerchief at them. “See? It smells and tastes sweet. It’s like some kind of syrup colored red.”

Ace cautiously leaned forward and sniffed. “I’m not going to pretend I know a ton about merfolk biology, but I don’t think they have corn syrup for blood.”

“Did you lean against anything else?” Deuce asked.

“Not that I noticed.” She groaned, head falling into her hands.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Ace muttered.

(Y/N) drummed her fingers against the railing. She stared down at the tracks rushing below them. Her eyes unfocused, trying to make her mind go blank instead of having every body and disappearance and unusual circumstance bounce around her head. Dirt and dust clouded behind the train, kicked up by the heavy wheels. Except… Suddenly, she jolted up so fast both Ace and Deuce jumped. “I need to check something,” She said. She spun around marching back into the dining car, the two boys close behind.

There were a couple of curious glances as she knelt by Lilia’s booth, everyone else keeping a wide berth from it. She looked underneath, running her hand along the bottom of the table, then across the booth seat, checking for any seams or latches. Her hand brushed along something soft on the edge of the table, where there was a smear of blue frosting.

“There was something in the video…” She said to herself. The idea itched in her mind. There was something missing, something she knew Cater must have noticed. Is that why he had been spirited away? But she had watched the same video with him multiple times. Wouldn't she have seen whatever clue she was sure was there?

Unless… The ideas crashed together all at once, almost too cluttered for her to organize them. Cater had been the only one with a light, the only one able to see around the darkened car. So, what if he saw something in the dark, something that wouldn’t show up on camera? Then, watching it back, the discrepancy would have subconsciously stuck out.

She pulled herself out from under the table, chewing on her bottom lip. She scanned the room. Her eyes passed over then jerked back to Jamil, setting down an empty glass on a side table. Tiny white sparkles flitted around the glass as it magically refilled.

Her hip jammed into the table as she whirled around, pulling her phone out of her bedazzled clutch. She grabbed a discarded glass from the table and drained it in two gulps. As she set it back on the table, she hit the record button on her phone, holding it close to the glass. The sparkling magic swirled around the glass, just as it had been doing all night.

“(Y/N)?” Riddle asked, confused.

She replayed the video, only a few seconds long. Sure enough, she watched the glass refill, but the magic around it was invisible.

Without a word, she whirled around and marched to the door to the observation car.

“Wait!” Ace called at her retreating back. “Come on, what have I been saying about splitting up?”

He, Deuce, and Grim followed behind her as she quickly moved through the next car to the luggage car.

“Epel was right,” (Y/N) called over her shoulder to them. “People don’t just vanish.”

“So you think there are secret passages?” Grim asked.

“Not exactly.” She pulled her phone out as they stepped into the luggage car, tapping her light on. She swept it around the room, dust motes floating in the air. “Back in my world, movies use a lot of cgi for special effects. But there are some older ones that use practical effects, puppets and makeup and stunts. They take a lot more work, but audiences also really like them, and they generally look better since they’re tangible, really there with the actors. Recently, some movies have been combining the two, computer generated images with physical props.”

“So?” Ace asked, confused.

“So,” She said. She stopped in front of a pile of luggage. She pushed them aside, not caring as they clattered in an untidy heap on the floor. Behind them was a wooden crate, a thin line of sticky red smeared along the bottom. “I think we’ve been thinking about this the wrong way. Whoever has been doing this is using a combination of methods, both magic and non-magic.”

“Magical murders?” Deuce said. “That’s like what the Arcane Special Defense Unit investigates.”

“But if they’re using magic to commit the murders,” Ace said. “Why use non-magic, too?”

(Y/N) crouched down, turning the crate around. Her heart clenched in her chest as she revealed a hole cut into the cut just above the bottom. “I think I might have an idea, but…” But she didn’t want to say it out loud. She didn’t want to admit she was suspecting one of her friends. She didn’t want to admit that one of them might, in fact, be capable of something like this.

Grim groaned. “Why does this kind of stuff always happen to us?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Ace said.

“I mean,” Deuce said, rubbing the back of his head. “He’s kind of right. There’s Overblots, that monster in the mines, kidnappings, that one Halloween in the Spectral Realm, that other Halloween in Fleur City where our magic got eaten, the VDC, that one time there was a magical virus and we all got turned into kids, not to mention all the potion accidents in alechemy class-”

“Wait!” (Y/N) shouted. “Say that again!”

Deuce looked confused. “Uhh, that we kind of seem to attract trouble everywhere?”

“No, about Halloween! That’s it! I’ve got it!”

“You know who the murderer is?” Grim asked.

(Y/N) was grinning way too big for such a morose topic. “Yes! And I think I know where everyone who disappeared is. But I need help from you guys. Have you ever heard of a parlor scene?”

(Y/N) explained her revelation to the boys, quickly giving them instructions to meet back with her in the dining car later. Separating, (Y/N) stopped in the observation car, taking a deep breath. Then, she flung the door open, striding into the room.

“Alright, everyone!” (Y/N) said sternly. “It’s time we wrap this whole thing up!”

“You know who killed Jade and Lilia?” Azul asked, eyes red.

“In a way,” (Y/N) said. She clasped her hands behind her back, walking through the room. “Let’s start from the beginning of the night. First, we all board a train with no conductor. The cake is made with a dangerous metallic disk, brought on board before all of us arrived. The lights just so happen to all go out at the exact moment we enter a dark tunnel, giving the murderer the perfect opportunity to strike. The crime, then, must have been planned ahead of time by someone who knew the exact route, timing it perfectly to when the cake would have been closest. Then we’re separated, leading to a locked room where Jade is murdered. Not just that, but cut in half and placed in such a way that should have taken way longer than the brief time he was unaccounted for. And none of that accounts for the disappearances, of both the deceased and the theorized living. We’re on a moving train, the only entrance and exit carefully monitored by those in the car, so it would, or should, be pretty obvious if anyone were trying to sneak out, especially if they were carrying someone.

“Our culprit, then, is someone who has had complete and perfect control of the train and those on board the entire time we’ve been here. Someone who not only smuggled the murder weapon in, who knew we were isolated, who knew when the train would enter the tunnel, who purposefully separated us to orchestrate the second murder, and who has the ability to make multiple people vanish into thin air.”

Everyone was getting restless, shuffling and looking around, casting suspicious looks at the only person (Y/N) could be referring to. (Y/N) took one more steadying breath. Facing the culprit straight on, she lifted an accusing finger. “The only possibility is you, Malleus Draconia!”

There was a collective gasp as Sebek jumped up, inserting himself between (Y/N)’s allegation and his prince. “How dare you!” He shouted.

Malleus’s eyes were steely cool as he looked down at her. “Oh?” He said. “That’s quite the accusation, child of man. I do hope you have evidence to support your theory.”

(Y/N) looked at Malleus with a scowl, hands on her hips. Before long, her lips twitched as she started to laugh. She whipped away a stray tear with the heel of her hand. “Hornton, you really have a twisted sense of humor, you know that?”

Sebek’s head whipped back and forth between the two, Malleus joining in with her laugh. “Wait, what? My lord, you, did you really…?”

“It might seem pretty complicated on the surface, but it’s actually pretty simple, just like a lot of old fashioned murder mysteries,” (Y/N) said. She turned, shouting out, “Okay, come on in, boys!”

Through the door that led to the end of the train, Ace, Deuce, and Grim burst in, dragging Lilia, Jade, Cater, Silver, and Leona with them.

“Hello, everyone!” Lilia said jovially. “I do hope you haven’t been having too much fun without me.”

There was a blur of teal and black as Floyd launched himself across the car, tackling Jade in a squeezing hug. He started sobbing, fat, dramatic tears now freely flowing down his face.

“My,” Jade said, eyes touched with compassion, petting his brother’s hair. “I wasn’t expecting such a welcome.”

“Jade,” Azul said, trying to sound stern despite the crack in his voice. “If you ever do something like that again, I’ll fry you up and add unadon to the menu.”

Jade placed a hand to his chest. “Aww, you do care.”

Kalim was jumping between Cater and Lilia, hugging them close, holding their faces to double and triple check they were unharmed, and babbling through tears.

“So,” Leona said, carelessly dropping into a booth, hands behind his head, a smug smile on his face. “I guess everything went according to plan?”

“Does anyone want to fill us in on what is going on?” Idia asked desperately.

“Gladly,” (Y/N) said. “That’s the point of a parlor scene, after all, pointing out the culprit and explaining exactly how they committed the crime. First, we need to establish that almost everyone who disappeared was an accomplice.”

“Almost everyone?” Jack asked.

Cater shyly raised his hand as (Y/N) said, “Cater was the odd one out, but I’ll get to that in a second. Before we even got to the train station, Malleus had recruited Lilia, Leona, Silver, and Jade to his plan. He’s the one who had the metal disk brought in with the cake, a cake he specifically ordered. And speaking of the disk, Lilia, do you still have it?”

With a smirk and a flourish, Lilia produced the silver disk, bloody colored corn syrup cutting across it in a gorey line. He ran his finger along the edge before pressing an almost invisible button in the middle. The side of the disk suddenly compacted, retreating in so the disk became a half circle.

“I’m guessing it’s some kind of stage prop,” (Y/N) continued. “It looks perfectly solid and deadly until you activate the hidden mechanism. Lilia himself was the one who retrieved the disk from the cake, since he has amazing night vision. There was a smear of frosting under the table where you must have brushed your hand after getting the disk, Lilia. But, this was also the reason Cater got involved.” (Y/N) held out her hand and Cater handed her his phone, the incriminating video already pulled up. (Y/N) held the phone up, panning it around the room so everyone was able to see. “Lilia wouldn’t have been able to simply walk over to the cake, he was boxed in by Kalim and Epel, not to mention everyone else standing around. So, he teleported. But there’s a problem. When Lilia or Hornton teleport, there’s these magic green sparks. Since Cater was already looking around to film, he would have seen these sparks. But he wasn’t paying close attention to such a small detail while we were all in a panic with the lights going out. When he watched the video back, they would have stuck out subconsciously in his mind and it would have been confusing as to why the video didn’t perfectly match up with his memory. And that’s because those kind of magic sparks don’t show up on camera. Eventually, Cater would have connected the discrepancy, possibly revealing the whole plot early, which is why he had to go.”

Cater shrugged. “I literally figured it out as soon as we got in the luggage car. Too bad Leona here tackled me out of the way.”

“I can’t believe you went along with one of Malleus’s plans,” Ruggie grumbled, casting a strong side eye at Leona.

Leona shrugged nonchalantly. “It gave me a chance to get a nap between everything. And I thought it would be really funny.” He grinned at Ruggie’s glare.

“If you’ll remember,” (Y/N) continued. “It was Hornton who suggested we separate and go try and find the engineer, an engineer he knew from the beginning wasn’t on the train. The whole point of splitting up was to get the next murder ready. Back in the dining car with the rest of us, Silver ‘woke up,’ when in reality he had been awake this whole time. He was meant to serve as a distraction, giving Lilia a chance to teleport away and set up Silver storming out to find the other group. At the front of the train, when everyone realized we were the only ones aboard, Jade would volunteer to go back. He and Silver would meet up in the luggage car and stage the next scene for us to find. There were boxes with holes cut out. Silver hid in one with his legs sticking out, exactly in the middle of the path so we would trip over them, and Jade stood in one so only his upper half was visible. The lights had been tampered with beforehand so it would be too dark for us to pay close attention, not to mention the added panic of thinking we had just found another one of our friends dead.”

Azul smacked Jade’s arm. “Why in the deep blue sea would you agree to something like that?”

“Oh, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be dead,” Jade said with a smile.

“Ace, Deuce, Grim, Epel, and I all ran one way,” (Y/N) continued.

“While I’m guessing Leona grabbed Cater and went the other. As for how they disappeared, I’m guessing Lila had something to do with it, too.”

Lilia clapped his hands. “I did! I was waiting in the luggage car for you all. You wouldn’t have seen me hanging from the ceiling. Once you all had left, I grabbed the others and we teleported out to our hiding spot!” He stretched his back. “I had to make a few trips, though. These old bones aren’t as spry as they used to be.”

“But,” Ortho asked. “Where did you all go?”

“That’s the last secret,” (Y/N) said. “There’s a secret caboose car! When I was out on the balcony outside this car, I noticed that the dust jumping around was behaving oddly. If you paid close attention, you could see the dust and dirt swept up by the train bouncing off something invisible. My guess is there was a secret 5th car added to the end of the train that everyone was waiting in. That’s where I sent these guys,” She waved to Ace, Deuce, and Grim. “To find everyone.”

“You’re lucky we like you so much,” Ace said. “It was insane jumping off the back of the dining car when I couldn’t see where I was landing.”

“But…Why?” Vil asked, perfect mouth pulled into a perfect frown. “Why do all this? Why put us through all this stress? Why make us think we were trapped with a murderer?”

(Y/N) snapped her fingers. “That’s what I kept getting caught up on, too. When I started figuring everything out, that was the only part that didn’t fit. I couldn't, wouldn’t, believe that Hornton would intentionally hurt any of us. But then Deuce said something that made it all click.”

“Yeah!” Deuce said proudly. “What did I say, again?”

“Halloween! More specifically, the first Halloween I was at NRC. After we got rid of the Magicam Monsters, do you remember what happened?”

“We all went to the Spectral Realm,” Sebek said slowly. “Where we thought people had been kidnapped and possessed by ghosts.”

“Which turned out to be Malleus pretending to be possessed to gather us all together for a Halloween party,” Riddle finished.

“LIke I said,” (Y/N) said. “A twisted sense of humor.”

“But a murder?” Trey said, fiddling with his glasses. “That’s still pretty extreme.”

(Y/N) sighed. “And that’s the last part. This whole thing might be my fault. I’m guessing I gave you the idea, Hornton, when I was talking about that mystery novel from my world, Murder on the Orient Express?”

He smiled wide, eyes glittering in pleasure. “I thought it would be a fine surprise. Anyone can read a mystery. It’s another matter entirely to be in the middle of one. But there is one more thing you didn’t catch.” Malleus snapped his fingers. The blurring scenery outside warped and spun, like sand being shaken in an hourglass, before settling back down. He opened the door, revealing the train station they had all boarded from. “We never actually left the station.”

Everyone clambered out of the train, some much more quickly than others to put as much distance between themselves and it as fast as possible. Inside the atrium, there was a new cake, sans trick metal disks, with candles flickering gently. The cake was quickly sliced up and served as Malleus directed everyone back to the train platform. As the group ate cake, fireworks burst in the sky, casting glorious multicolored lights across their faces.

“Thank you, Hornton,” (Y/N) said. “This is beautiful. But-” She suddenly punched his arm, her face as serious as she could make it. “If you ever make me think that my friends are hurt or in danger again, I’ll make you regret it.”

“Of course, dear child of man.”

“Don’t ‘of course’ me. I’m threatening you. Be threatened.”

“Of course. Happy birthday, (Y/N), and many more besides.”

[deliciouskeys]

I threatened to write something for Butchlander week and well... I have written, uh, something. *skulks back into the abyss*

Written to accompany this wonderful art I commissioned from @semains whom I love dearly-- thank you for indulging my requests for setting and exact pose as well! Commission them!

Butchlander Week NSFW Saturday prompt: Roleplay/Roles. Because it might be the role of a lifetime for Butcher, but you know Homelander is having the time of his life pretending he can't escape / pretending it hurts sooo much.

(yeah, double dipping) Cozy Corner Kinktober prompt #5 Buttplug (sort of. I can't explain myself. I have no excuses. It might be disturbing, so apologies in advance. Pure Id, aka wtf).

My header is getting longer than the ficlet, gdi

"Harder." Homelander's tone is haughty and whiny all at once–  so grating that Butcher wishes he could deliver on the request. Who'd have thought that this grandiose straightedge little cunt would get so hard having a stranger smack him over and over? Who'd ever guess that this supe celebrity– maybe the world's most famous person, and definitely the darling of the American public– would be into this kind of shit behind closed doors? That he wouldn't be bloody ashamed of himself whisking Butcher off to his bizarrely decorated apartment every single night.  Bypassing all of Vought security, so that Vought's public enemy number… if not #1 then at least top 10… could make himself comfortable sitting on his bed. Not all that comfortable, since the bed is a strange upholstered leather number and stiff as hell, but Butcher supposes a supe might not feel the difference between this and a Tempur-Pedic.

He brings him here every night, and every night the script stays largely the same. Homelander plies him with some alcohol, sometimes a glass of whiskey, but more often just a bottle of Heineken. Butcher sits down, Homelander eagerly drapes himself over his lap, pulls and folds his cape underneath him, as if he doesn't trust Butcher enough to spread it out next to him. wiggling his hips, insisting Butcher pull down his pants and spank him. And Butcher obliges every time, even though it's clearly hurting his hands much more than it hurts Homelander– they alternate sides every night but Butcher suspects he already has stress fractures that don't heal because his hands ache all the time and never quite recover between sessions. But despite the pain, and despite the very little to no pain he's actually inflicting on the spoiled brat who always asks to be hit harder, there's just something irresistible about it. About finally being allowed to take out his aggression on the man he hates most in the world. The man he hates most in the world, who also happens to have a surprisingly perky ass that jiggles hypnotically if you hit it hard enough and just right, so Butcher hits him with his full strength not because of the cunt's whiny demands, but because he just wants to see the flesh wobble.

"I said harder!" Homelander's voice cuts through Butcher's thoughts, and Butcher can't help it any longer.

"You want me to hit you harder, you're gonna have to find a paddle."

Homelander's breath hitches and he says nothing in reply. No, this sick cunt clearly craves skin on skin contact to get off, Butcher already knows this, which is why he knew what to threaten him with to get him to shut up.

But he does wish he could hurt him. The achy joints of his hand plead he stop. Butcher stares down at the well defined muscular globes, skin turned a nice blush color where he's been hit but Butcher wishes he could turn it black and blue. Purple and green. He wants the cunt to really feel the intensity he's supposedly asking for, just to prove how wrong he is.

"I'm waiting," Homelander reminds him.

"Just taking a breather, alright? Enjoying the view." Butcher tries to squeeze a handful of flesh, but it's never as soft as it looks. "Look like one of 'em marble statues you got out in your lounge area."

Butcher hears Homelander's breath hitch and sees him take a peek at the mirror above, clearly checking himself out. This is all a game to him. It flatters his vanity that Butcher does this for him. Butcher would like nothing more than to turn this around on him, make it less of a game and more of an actual punishment.

A strange idea creeps in. Butcher leans back to reach for the Heineken bottle he emptied earlier and put on the nightstand, always on a coaster Homelander insists he use. God forbid he get a water ring on the antique looking furniture, with the creepy little cameo portraits of people who died last century. The beer is mostly just to take the edge off before Homelander lies down over his legs– he and Homelander mutually figured out the session goes better if he's slightly buzzed and maybe just a little numb to the pain in his hand. And they figured this out because Homelander happened to whisk him away right after he stumbled out of a bar on a late Saturday night, after which point Butcher understood that Homelander would come and find him wherever he was– even if he wasn't at home past midnight. It's sexual slavery, is what it is. Butcher would resent it more if he didn't somewhat enjoy getting to beat this cunt on a nightly basis before being dropped off at home.

Homelander shifts, growing impatient while waiting for another round of spanking to start after the breather. "Come on!" he says through gritted teeth, and he sounds angry, and fucking self-righteous, as if he's complaining about customer service he's paid for. It's not Butcher's fault that the cunt only seems to come after he's gotten spanked for minutes straight, at some point his body finally deciding that this is such an enjoyable moment that his hips start grinding forward into Butcher's leg and he comes, the same pathetic little hitched moan escaping his lips every time, the same toe-curling Butcher can see because the cunt does take off his boots to lie on the bed. Thank god he never pulls his pants far down enough, because he never gets any jizz on Butcher's jeans. Homelander seems to think Butcher doesn't notice, or at least they both pretend they haven't. As if Butcher can avoid noticing his leg being humped violently, wondering if this is the night the cunt breaks one of his limbs out of pure excitement. As if it's not clear what just happened from the flushed face and glazed over eyes the supe has when he rises off the bed, finally satisfied. But if no one tells and no one asks, it didn't necessarily happen, and both seem content to keep it at that. Homelander takes a quick shower and suit change before dropping Butcher off at his apartment, without any further ceremony or pleasantries, and by morning Butcher is half in denial about any of it even happening.

"Are you fucking deaf? Why did you stop?" Homelander says and starts to turn his head to look back at him, but Butcher shoves his face back to face forward. 

They have an unspoken agreement not to look each other in the eye when they're doing this, ever. Homelander almost broke the agreement, but obediently looks away again after the lightest push.

"Shut your fucking trap already. I heard you the first ten times just fine," Butcher growls under his breath, and his mind is made up about what he was hesitating to do. He forces the neck of the empty bottle into the cunt's tight crack, moving it around, looking for give.

Homelander's back arches, clearly not expecting the sensation. "The fuck are you doing?"

"GIving you something harder, like you were whining for, you spoiled brat." Butcher gives up doing it blindly and pulls one of the cheeks towards him. "Now where's your fucking chocolate starfish? You even have one?" And as if to punctuate that last word, Butcher finds the place and  breaks the initial resistance resistance, the bottle neck beginning a slow slide in.

Homelander breathes harder. "I don't like it," he mutters, and his ass flexes in protest.

"You better like it and accept it, or else you're going to end up with a pile of glass shards inside you."

Butcher is skeptical that glass could really do anything to this supe's internal organs, but it seems Homelander wants to avoid the mess anyway, and his muscles relax.

"That's right. Now stop whining and take your punishment."

He tries to push the bottle in even further, feeling more and more protest.

"I don't like it," Homelander repeats, sharply this time, as if it means something.

"You ain't supposed to like it," Butcher says and decides to finally smack him on the ass with his other hand after keeping him waiting. Butcher doesn't anticipate that Homelander's body will convulse, shatter the bottle, grind into him, and come all at once.

"The hell was that?" Butcher asks, pulling back the jagged bottle's bottom half that survived. Homelander's body is still twitching underneath him and he's panting. Maybe this was going to be it. Butcher overstepped the line. Homelander was probably immersed in some unresolved childhood trauma or fantasy or whatever the fuck about having a father figure who would discipline him with a firm but loving hand. This must have ended the illusion for him. Maybe enough that Butcher is about to meet his end– sometimes it's hard to remember that the whimpering quivering pathetic mess draped over his knees is the selfsame terrifying force of nature that can take out an entire army if he ever just chose to do so.

But the cunt won't even pick his head up. He's buried his face in the crook of his elbow. Is he fucking crying? Butcher wonders for a second if it's possible that he's actually fucking done it. Actually hurt him. Maybe a plug of C4 won't kill him but maybe it'll make him feel the hurt? A whole assortment of images races through Butcher's mind. He wants to try everything now. His crowbar, a bat studded with rusty nails, maybe the same bottle but a Molotov cocktail this time. Payback for thinking he can just force Butcher to indulge him, to make every night about getting him off. This opens up a whole new world of possibilities.

But Homelander stirs and starts to sit up, and Butcher winces and his teeth are set on edge when he can hear the crunching sound of glass grinding against glass, and tiny green shards start dropping out of him as Homelander tilts to sit back on his heels.

"That was— amazing…" Homelander whispers, breathless. His hands are folded demurely in his lap as if he didn't just orgasm to being diddled with a bottle of Heineken. "You want another beer?"

"No!" Butcher says, sounding more emphatic and more disturbed than he intendedto let on. "No, you sick fuck."

"Does your hand hurt?" Homelander asks, and it's without any impatience in his tone, maybe even a note of real sympathy, completely ignoring the insult just lobbed at him. Before Butcher knows what's happening, Homelander leans down and licks the hand that had just been spanking him. Butcher jerks it away defensively, but Homelander follows it licking it, laving each finger with his tongue before leaning into it with his brow ridge, then his nose, rubbing himself into it. It feels soothing and takes away some of the sore feeling, Butcher is loath to admit.

But he needs to regain what little control he has in this arrangement. "You want me to pet ya? Then lie back where you belong," he says. It's gratifying to see the supe cunt immediately obey him. He stretches himself back into his former position, and Butcher kneads the flesh of his ass.

"We can do the bottle again if your hands hurt," Homelander says, sighing contentedly and breaking the rule– looking back at Butcher with a look that is disturbingly similar to fondness.

"We can," Butcher agrees, trying to ignore the glass that's spilled out on the sheets and forget the crunching sound the bottle made when it snapped in half at the neck.

(AO3 link)

[ghostlychief]

Master Chief requests??? I need Chief x reader where reader tells her new friend John that she has a massive crush on the hero in green not knowing she’s just confessed to said man. Later ends up fighting beside him and after the battle Chief removes his helmet for whatever reason, rest, rehydration, etc. and reader has an existential crisis…with a cute ending…🥺

once again, so sorry for the delay on this!!! i love the concept of this and it was so fun to write!!! hope you enjoy :) <3

---

You could say that it was a predisposition that you were going to join the UNSC ever since you were a little girl. It ran in the family: Your dad was a marine, and mom a pilot. So of course as a little girl, you wanted to live up to their expectations and be just like them.

That leads you to where you are today, a soldier within the UNSC Navy Fleet Command (FLEETCOM). You like the work and it always keeps you busy. This work also, for the majority of the time, has you stationed on the infinity, and not so much in the heat of combat. But you wish you could be involved in the action one day. In fact, you were kind of obsessed with the Spartans and the program in general. They seemed off-worldly to you and you really wished you could see them in action.

In fact, you're currently telling your new friend John about your not so secret crush on the famous green Spartan, Master Chief. You met John about six months ago during a training and you have been friends ever since.

"I mean, come on! Who isn't curious about the famous 'demon'?"

You excitedly bang your hands on the table as you're ranting to your friend, who just sits there with a smirk on his face. You don't know why he finds it that amusing. Doesn't everyone have a crush?

His eyes light up as you keep gushing over the Spartan.

"I can only imagine what his face would look like; handsome no doubt." You stare off dreamily.

You sigh, "I wish I could meet him."

John shrugs, "Maybe one day you will."

You pout and then rest your head on your now crossed arms that rest on the table. You let out a puff, "My job doesn't allow me to be in combat. We always direct from up here." You gesture to the ship.

John continues eating his sandwich, which by the way, looks much more appetizing than the food on your plate. You wonder where he got the delicious looking food. In fact, you just now realize that John's food always seems to be gourmet, and much better than yours. You mentally shake your head, thinking it doesn't matter and you go back to thinking of your crush that you're never going to meet.

John reassures you again, "You never know when a special mission will come up anyways. They can always pull you into combat under special circumstances."

You hum, still bummed about your current position and reply, "Yeah, I guess."

You and John finish up your lunches then go your separate ways.

---

About a week later, you're being pulled into a conference room with your team and upper management. It's odd because usually upper management doesn't attend team meetings like this, so you figure something is happening or about to.

Your guess is right when your boss, Davidson, starts the meeting.

"Thank you all for being here today, we have been assigned to a special mission, which we will be deployed to planet Concord, where an outer human colony resides."

Davidson continues her assessment of the colony's climate and the reason for your team going.

"We will be assisting a covert operation, lead by the Spartans, specifically Blue Team. But this will require a ground operation team, so that is why we are being deployed with the Spartans."

Your stomach erupts with butterflies. Blue Team? You immediately know who's on that team and it's hard for you to contain your excitement.

Davidson continues with her presentation, but you find it hard to focus. However, you do catch that the reason for this covert mission is that there's been alien chatter in the quadrant Concord is in. It's unclear whether the Covenant has found the human colony or not. It is also sometimes hard to communicate with the outer colonies since they are a long way from Reach.

Your thoughts drift away again. Your first mission! You're itching with anticipation.

---

The day has come where you leave for Concord. you have been so busy the past week that you haven't had a chance to see your friend John and share the exciting new. Oh well, you think. I'll catch up with him once I'm back.

Travel to the outer colonies takes about a day or so from Reach and before you know it, you've reached Concord. You were hoping to catch a glimpse of the Spartans on the ship, but you guess your luck ran out because you didn't see a single one.

It was decided that you all would land on the outskirts of the region Corsica. This region had a dense population and would be a prime spot for the Covenant to attack.

You finally see the Spartans emerge from the ship, but they are already in their armor.

You all get to work in setting up your outpost, and surprisingly, the Spartans help with a lot of the set up.

Huh, guess they aren't better than that.

Once your networks are up and running, you and your team immediately get to work on analyzing the different comms channels for any chatter that isn't your own. The Spartans have left to search the perimeter and scout the area.

Day one and two, nothing happens. You're not picking anything up on the networks and Blue Team hasn't reported seeing anything.

However, on day three, things start to get interesting.

You just had your morning coffee when you hear it. it was so brief,. but you would recognize Sangheili anywhere. You immediately notify your team and Blue Team. You really hadn't had any interaction with the Spartans, but now they stand before you, waiting to hear your report.

You stand tall and say, "This morning at 0600 hours, we picked up Sangheili chatter. We only caught a snippet of it before they switched to another channel, but we could make out "Concord" from the discussion."

Master Chief is the first to ask a question, "Is it safe to assume they are on Concord?"

You clear your throat and respond, "While, we cannot confirm that they are on the planet, we can confirm that they know of its existence, and therefore, know the location of it."

You see Master Chief nod, his orange-yellow visor glinting in the morning sun. "Okay, what is our mission?"

This is where Davidson steps up to explain the game plan, now that there is credible intelligence that the Covenant know about Concord. FLEETCOM has been preparing for this for years, but its still surreal putting the procedures into place.

However, before Davidson can report on the procedures, a large blast hits near your outpost. You shriek and crouch down, covering your head with your hands. Another blast deposits close to the outpost, but with this blast, you can feel the warmth from the plasma. Covenant.

The outpost erupts into chaos and you snap back to reality, ready to follow your attack procedures that you know so well. But before you can stand, a green hand reaches down to you. You take it without any thought. It's only when the hand pull you up that you are face to face with Chief.

You take a step back, and mutter a thanks under your breath. Chief nods slightly, and then says, "You need a weapon."

Oh right, we're under attack. He leads you to the armory and you thank him again before he leaves you to get ready. you meet your team back at command and then you are split into groups to engage the Covenant. Each Spartan takes a squadron of soldiers, and lucky you, you're in Chief's unit.

You all disperse out to your combat areas, and you're immediately met with grunt troops. Easy enough you think.

You watch Chief ahead of you, easily taking out the grunts while you and your squadron take out the weakened ones. You see him take out his sniper and easily pick off the Jackals that were hiding up in the rock formations.

Strangely enough, it gets quiet after that, and you hear through your comms from the other units that combat has paused for them as well.

Chief runs back to your unit and says, "Let's climb up those rocks to get to higher ground. I'm sure that wasn't the last of the Covenant troops."

You all hike up the steep hill littered in rock formations until you reach the top. It does provide a good advantage, but you're also hoping for some rest.

You see the rest of your unit start to sit, drink water, and assess any injuries, so you decide to do the same. You luckily remained unscathed, and when you're drinking your water, Chief comes up to sit beside you and before you can say anything, he starts to take off his helmet.

You must being seeing things, because you are met with the familiar face of your friend John.

"I'm sorry, I must be seeing things, because what the fuck?!"

John, your friend John, sits besides you in a fucking Spartan suit, none other than the Master Chief himself.

"Guilty," he responds. He tries to give you a small smile, but all he is met with is a glare.

You're still shell-shocked and you are trying not to cause a scene in front of everyone, but seriously, what the actual fuck?

"Are you fucking serious? Why didn't you tell me?" You're honestly more hurt that he didn't tell you, than the fact that for almost the entirety of your friendship you've been gushing to him about your crush on, well, HIM.

Before he can get a word out though, you say, "What strings did you pull for me to be here?"

He just says, "Don't worry about it." you feel steam coming out of your ears.

Of course. Of course. It's all coming together now.

"Was this even a real mission?" your voice raises.

"Of course it was! We did just fight the Covenant, no?"

You hate to admit it but he makes a good point.

He gives you a small shrug, "I may have pulled a few strings to get your team assigned-" he looks over to you and you give him your hardest glare. You cross your arms, and shift your position so you're facing him head on.

"-but you and your team were well over-qualified! So it worked out anyways."

"WHY?!" You throw your hands up in the air, now feeling the embarrassment of your confession you've one too many times admitted.

"Look, Y/N," He places his gloved hand on your shoulder and you fight the urge to smack it away.

"i don't know if you noticed but everywhere I go, people just gawk at me and don't even treat me as a human. So, when I'm out of my armor, I feel a certain freedom I don't usually feel. And when I met you, well, I wanted to keep feeling that."

His thumb starts to rub circles into your shoulder.

"I was going to tell you, I was. But I started loving the feeling of just being normal, and you always provided that space for me. I'm sorry."

You sigh at his explanation, and while you're still mad at him, you do understand his point of view.

"You weren't creeped out by my crush, borderline obsession, with you?" You can't even look at him when you ask this and instead train your eyes to Concord's two moons up in the sky.

"Y/N, look at me." You do.

He smiles at you, the creases by his eyes crinkling and says, "I thought it was endearing, okay?"

"Ugh, you must get that all the time from women though, as you literally just said." You bring up your hands and rub your face and you feel your cheeks warm.

"Well, they aren't you."

"What?" You must have heard him wrong and you look at him to catch any kind of lie in his confession. But a small smile still rests on his lips and his eyes are still looking into yours with honesty.

He brings his hand that was on your shoulder to rest on your jaw, his thumb now stroking your cheek. You imagined the texture of his techsuit to be rougher, but you find his hand feels like silk against your skin.

"You mean to tell me you didn't know?"

You roll your eyes, "No, I did not know that my friend John of six months liked me. Clearly I don't pick up on things easily." You gesture between the two of you.

"Mhmm, then I'll have to do better." John closes the space between you and captures your lips with his. You kiss him back and rest your hand on top of his that still lies on your jaw.

You pull away for a brief second, "Wait! Now I understand why you have so much better food than me. You ass!" You smack his shoulder.

He shuts you up with another kiss.

---

You're so engrossed in all things John that you fail to notice that Kelly and her squadron met up with yours.

You have an audience behind you and you don't even notice it. Kelly mutters, "About time. He wouldn't shut up about her."

---

[sirxaibs]

𖦹.✧˚ MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN 𖦹.✧˚

“He asked for no pickles >:(” Trope Headcannon

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚The Classic Luigi Dilemma™ → Luigi is too nice for his own good. When the waiter sets down his plate and he realizes they got his order completely wrong, he just freezes for a second, staring at it like it personally betrayed him.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚Internal Panic Mode → His brain immediately starts short circuiting. Do I say something? No, that’d be rude! But I didn’t order this! But maybe it’s fine? But I was really looking forward to- oh no, they’re walking away :(

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚The Nervous Little Smile™ → Instead of complaining, he just awkwardly chuckles and goes, “O-oh! Haha, well, um… guess I’ll just eat this, then.” Meanwhile, you can see the disappointment in his eyes

. ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚Your Protective Instincts Kick In → Oh, absolutely not. This is Luigi, your sweet, beautiful, anxious boy. He deserves to eat what he actually ordered. So, before he can talk himself into suffering through it, you wave down the waiter.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚Luigi’s Immediate Reaction → His eyes widen in pure terror. “W-wait, no, it’s fine! I don’t wanna cause trouble—”

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚But You’re Already On It → With the sweetest but firmest voice, you politely explain that they got his order wrong and ask them to fix it. You make sure to be nice (because you know he’d feel bad otherwise), but there’s no way you’re letting him sit there with something he doesn’t want.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚Luigi.exe Has Stopped Working → He just stares at you in awe, cheeks heating up. His brain is going, Oh no they’re standing up for me I think I’m in love all over again.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚The Waiter Fixes It, and Luigi is So Grateful → The moment they walk away with his plate, he looks at you like you just saved his life. “You… you really didn’t have to do that,” he mumbles, embarrassed but so touched. ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚You Just Smile → “Of course I did! You deserve to get what you actually ordered, Luigi.”

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚Flustered Boyfriend Mode Activated → He gets so shy but also so in love. He keeps fidgeting with his napkin, mumbling something about how amazing you are.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚The Happiest Green Bean → When his correct order finally arrives, he thanks the waiter about five times and then immediately takes a bite, beaming. “Mmm! Grazie!” he says, looking at you with pure adoration.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚Bonus: Extra Softness → The rest of the meal, he keeps sneaking little glances at you, still blushing. At one point, he shyly reaches for your hand under the table and squeezes it. “You’re the best, you know that?”

⋆˚✿˖° Picture this ⋆˚✿˖°

Dinner was supposed to be relaxing. A nice little date, just you and Luigi, eating at a cozy restaurant in Toad Town. The kind of place with checkered tablecloths, candles on every table, and the smell of fresh-baked bread in the air.

Luigi had been excited, too he’d spent the entire walk here rambling about how much he was craving their famous mushroom risotto. So when the waiter finally brought out your food and set a plate of… was that seafood pasta? in front of him, you knew something was wrong.

Luigi blinked at the plate. Then again. Like he was hoping it would magically turn into what he actually ordered.

“Oh! Uh… haha…” He let out a nervous chuckle, shifting in his seat. “W-well, um… I guess this looks good too…?”

You frowned. “Lu, that’s not what you ordered.”

He waved a hand, already trying to play it off. “Oh, it’s no big deal! I, uh… I like pasta?” He stabbed a shrimp with his fork, his expression betraying him entirely.

Yeah, no. Absolutely not.

Before he could talk himself into just eating it, you waved down the waiter. Luigi’s eyes immediately widened in panic.

“W-wait, no, no, it’s fine! I don’t wanna bother—”

“Excuse me,” you said, smiling at the waiter, “but I think there was a mix-up. He actually ordered the mushroom risotto.”

The waiter glanced at the plate, realization dawning. “Oh! My apologies, I’ll fix that right away.”

“No problem!” you said cheerfully.

The moment the waiter walked off with his incorrect order, Luigi turned to you, absolutely beside himself. “You—you didn’t have to do that!” His face was already pink, hands nervously fiddling with his napkin. “I mean, they’re busy, and I-I didn’t wanna be a bother, and—”

You reached across the table and squeezed his hand, effectively shutting him up.

“Luigi,” you said, giving him a look. “You deserve to eat what you actually ordered.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He just stared at you, completely flustered, eyes full of awe like you just pulled off the most heroic act imaginable.

“I-I…” He cleared his throat, squeezing your hand back. “…Grazie.”

When the waiter finally returned with the correct dish, Luigi thanked him at least five times before eagerly taking his first bite. His entire face lit up in pure happiness.

“Mmm! Oh, it’s so good!” He practically melted into his seat, finally able to enjoy his meal. Then, he glanced at you, still pink in the face. “You, uh… you’re really amazing, you know that?”

You just grinned, nudging his foot under the table. “I do know that, actually.”

Luigi let out a shy little laugh, cheeks still burning. But before he could get too flustered, he shyly reached for your hand again, holding it under the table as he ate.

You didn’t miss the way his thumb softly rubbed against your skin.

Yeah. Totally worth it.

You to Luigi : oh man... sorry bro. i accidentally left some lipstick on your neck.. here let me kiss it off... shit i left more... here hold on... oh no i left even more...

[hannahssimblr]

We spend the afternoon here, talking about all the things that come into our heads, most of which is music, happily, as I always have a lot to say on the subject. I let her go through my CD collection, and she confesses she hasn't heard of most of the artists.

“Bloc Party, really?” I say, showing the CD to her. “You don’t know them?”

“No! Why would I?”

“I don’t know, because they’re famous?”

“I know Eminem,” she picks that one out of the pile, and I smirk, “That’s a pretty old one. I don’t really listen to it anymore.”

“Hm,” she turns it over in her hands. “Well, just letting you know, you forgot to take all the stickers off.” Her thumb nail picks at the corner of the parental advisory sticker, and I snatch it out of her hands. 

“No, leave it.”

“Leave it?”

“Yeah, the sticker stays on. C’mon, everyone knows that.”

She examines me like I’m the weirdo. “Um! It’s a sticker, the same as a price tag. You just peel it off like a normal person would.”

“No, you keep it on so everyone knows you listen to music with bad words in it.”

This makes her laugh. “Oh, yeah, very important. Sorry. I would have peeled it off, because if my mam saw an album with that sticker on it, she’d have brought it to the charity shop the next day.”

“Bit strict, hm?”

“Yeah, I suppose. She just doesn’t like the idea of me being exposed to certain things.”

I’d like to ask Evie what specifically she’s not allowed to be around, but judging by the bizarre way Shane clucks around her like a mother hen, I can guess. Alcohol. Drugs. Boys like me. I’m curious what it’s like to have parents that care about any of that stuff. I can’t imagine. 

“How would she feel about you coming to the festival? Does she know there’ll be songs with bad words there?”

“No, obviously,” she gives me a playful shove, “She’s not going to be going on iTunes and finding the artists. She barely even knows how to use the internet, and she’ll be fine about the festival as long as she knows Shane is there.”

“What’s it with Shane, anyway?”

“Oh, God. She loves Shane. For some reason, she’s just obsessed with him, and keeps trying to get me to go out with him.”

“You don’t want that though, do you?”

She snorts. “Hardly. That’d be so weird.” She grabs my Prodigy CD and slips the booklet from inside. “He’s like my brother or something. It’s just sick.”

“Right, right, so, like, just curious, what kind of guy would you-”

“That’s you,” she interrupts, holding a picture of Keith Flint with his tongue out up to my face. He’s got that green, clown hair thing going on and really intense black makeup under his eyes. I laugh, surprised. “What?”

“That’s you,” she taps her nail against it. “Him.”

“Why? Because he looks bad?”

A shrug, “Yeah.”

God, it’s so stupid. I understand there is no sophistication to this joke, that it’s just an ugly-looking man, but that’s exactly why it’s so funny. She grins at me as I snicker into the back of my wrist. “What?”

“You know that’s good, c’mon.”

“I actually don’t know why I even said that. That’s the sort of thing I say in my own head.”

“Very funny, okay, well two can play at that game.”

I reach for my Dodos, Beware of the Maniacs album, and she starts protesting before I can say a word. “No!” she says, “No, no! That’s not me!”

“Uh huh!” 

“That’s offensive, you can’t say that!”

“Evie…” I show her the image.

“No!”

“...Is that you?”

I grab her leg and we fall about, howling, wiping tears from our eyes, laughing until I think I might be sick. If someone ever asked me what we were laughing about, I’d have to play it off, and pretend that I didn’t really think it was so funny, that it was a bit juvenile and stupid, but I would be lying about the first part. For some reason, nothing has even been as hilarious as pointing to an image of a big, looming bald man’s face and asking Evie if it is her.

It goes on like this, as we try to find more ugly things to compare each other to, eventually pulling that magazine from under my bed and wiping off the dust to flip through, eventually landing on an very serious article about a family of inbred royals from Austria. We don’t even have to say anything. I just turn the page and we start shrieking. 

“Oh, God,” Evie’s face is red, and she has tears in her eyes. “I promise I’m usually not this weird in front of people.”

“Me neither, fuck sake, we have to calm down.” 

We look at the picture and burst out laughing again. 

I decide it would be cool, eventually, to show off my immaculate, curated CD collection. I hold her hostage while starting and stopping my CD player, running through all the best songs and the best albums in my possession. Evie keeps pretending to know them, but then doesn't recognise their biggest hits. 

“Of course I know Gorillaz,” she scoffs. “I just don’t know this song, is all.”

“This is Feel Good Inc.”

“Yeah, I just don’t know it.”

“You’re lying to me!”

“No! I’m not caught up on new music yet! I don’t have time for everything…”

“Evie…”

“What?”

“This album is five years old.”

When I try to teach her German, she fares no better. She pores over my textbook, trying her best to pronounce all the long words at the back, the ones that are, like, five different words squashed together into one. I understand the difficulty on one hand, but on the other, it's really not that complicated.

“You have to stop trying to pronounce them weird.” I'm know I am beginning to come across as an impatient person. “It’s not like French. Just think in English.”

She takes a determined breath and gallantly butchers the word “entschuldigung.”

We go back to the start of the book and try “eins, zwei, drei” again. 

“I’m tired of this! I can’t do the throat sound,” she protests, so I relinquish the book and lay it on the bedside table. 

“Well, just pointing it out, but you’d get it after a while if you kept trying.”

She peers at me. “It’s not a very nice language, is it? It sounds harsh.”

“There’s something about it,” I say. “Like any language, you know? Once you get to know it, you start to discover the nice things.”

“Are you worried about having to speak it all the time?”

“Kind of. I’m mostly worried that I’ll have a strong accent, you know? And everyone will just think of me as the foreign guy, rather than who I really am.”

“Hm, yeah, I never thought about that.”

“It’s hard to be myself when I speak German. I just don’t know how to express what I want to say, or to be funny and whatever.”

 “Well, you could just show them an ugly picture in a magazine and say ‘ist das du?’”

“Thanks, I’m sure I’ll come across great.”

Her eyes dart across my face. “I don’t think you should worry. I think everyone will like you, even if you have a bad accent. They’ll know just by being around you that you’re cool, and they’ll line up to be your friend.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, Jude, I think you’re really nice.”

I smile. Resting my head mightn’t have been the greatest idea, because my body quickly informs me it is time to give in and sleep. Insomniac nights routinely catch up on me by the afternoon, and now heaviness pulls at my lids. With the sun heating my body through the window, and the soft, dreamy melody of a Radiohead song coming from the speakers, I want to stop fighting. Evie too watches the waves outside the window, and her breath moves with them, a meditation. I shut my eyes. It’s just for a few minutes, just to ease the sting. Then we can talk some more. I really want to talk to her more…

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

the Toyota Yaris is my babygirl... (I have a 2002 one which I named Tilly)

can I learn some more about my car maybe?

Call yourself Dr. Pepper because you can!

I have made a helpful diagram to illustrate.

Very happy someone asked about the car me dad was gonna buy, so I get to show its funky optical-illusion digidash that, through some magic I must say still eludes me, is made to look a lot further than it is so your eyes don't have to refocus to glance at it.

And I know what you're thinking - "Wow, digidashes are so cool, if only there was a website that collected them all" and my dear where do you think I got this image from? ;) But there's another cool thing about this image, speaking of it - what's with the coordinates in the lower display? Well it turns out that's why that button at the bottom right says "NAVI" above it - for the low low price of an absolute fucking fortune that it seems no one was willing to pay you could get your Yaris fitted with a little underseat satellite navigation unit that fed off map CDs (because people who say things were better back in the day just don't remember the details that well) and gave you directions in return!

"But wait", I hope and pray you're thinking so I get to do the reveal, "where's the screen then?" Well it's right there! What more screen do you need to be given a turn and a distance?

And that's not even all the cool tech that the Yaris ever got! In 2004, they made a special version called "Yaris Blue", available in blue, blue and blue, which offered steering wheel controls and what color was that tooth again ah right Bluetooth!

Hm. I wonder what website this image came from. Guess we'll never know. Anyway, imagine life in 2004 with a decked out Yaris: electric windows, a sunroof, Bluetooth and satnav, a wicked digidash... what else did you need? Hell, what else do you need today? Maybe a bit of space, but that was taken care of by the Yaris Verso that was introduced alongside it a couple years later! It married Toyota reliability and quality with a surprisingly spacious mini-MPV body style, with the only problem of being phantasmagorically ugly.

yeah. I don't think even in Japan you couldn't find one that looks decent.

Hm. I'm gonna need to sample the public on this one, but the fact that they call it Fun Cargo there may risk swaying me over.

They also did other fun things with the Mk1 Yaris in Japan, like calling it Vitz, giving it a turbo version because of COURSE, and making it one of Gran Turismo's most famous surprise win cars. You know how Gran Turismo has made many people, including some of y'all, fall in love with some cars? Yeah. I suspect it's done the opposite here. It is worth noting, here, that Gran Turismo random car prizes were not influenced by what cars you already had. Do you see where I am going with this.

Links in blue are posts of mine explaining the words in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

[blazingstaro]

MAN you got me thinking about Eave (I love her 4 wings btw!), but all the questions I want to ask about her story probably go into spoilers territory, so instead… another free ask about her daughter and her daughter’s parents?

AAA THANK YOU! I'm glad!! Auughhh I've always loved her 4 wings. She's such a pretty lady. And hey— you never know unless you try, but sure I can tell you about her daughter and fam!

You may have guessed, as many have, but Eave's baby girl is Twyla! She's undergoing a little bit of a design update as well, but here's my latest iteration from last year:

Her father and stepmother belong to my sister, @starlightfyre! Zeelo and Amani Zeidric are her current guardians and caretakers!

Yes, that's right— she's a Zeidric, and I've hinted it from the very beginning in DotS' original Episode one! Right here was my first clue (old art jumpscare):

Second were three different hints here in Episode 2:

First set of panels— that's a very subtle one and wasn't really intended to be obvious; however that's something Zeelo's known to say often! The second panel also has Zeelo's distinct green eye color as another subtle reference. There's many instances where I used Eave or Zeelo's eye colors, or maybe both, as a hint towards her relations to the two.

Additionally, Twyla has a magic version of Zeelo's signature pistol here, her hair is styled similarly to his, as well her gloves had changed shape to emulate his style! Additionally, they're both holding a pistol with their left hand— Twyla is mirroring that poster in the background!

You can see she has her mother's cream-colored wings. She's very much the spitting image of Eave

SO YEAH— I'm revealing this here because in DotS' rewrite, this information is in the open. How she arrives in her father's care, however, will remain a surprise, hehehe!

That's just a glimpse of how deep and subtle my foreshadowing can get :3c

But some info on Twyla— her personality's had a bit of a shift because of these changes, thanks to the direct influence of her father and stepmother. She'll still have plenty of sass, but she's going to be much more brave and have much less Trauma™. Much more outgoing and confident in herself!

However she's also aware of her lineage, and as the youngest in her family, believes she has the biggest shoes to fill. She constantly strives to prove herself worthy of her family name on both sides. The challenges of being the child of not one but two famous heroes. She has her mother's legacy to uphold as well, as her only heir and survivor of their bloodline

Although— this pressure is self-afflicted. Zeelo and Amani are already proud of her as she is! They have no expectations of her beyond just being herself, and enjoying her peaceful childhood 💜

[quietbluejay]

Angel Exterminatus Take 2 #14

this time: who even knows man

it's a terrible evening here but i stay silly and more importantly, so does McNeill via chocolate eclair man

meanwhile, outside julius has discovered that it's very sexy to shed his blood on the soil of the planet

so it's time to kill other ECs to water the ground with blood as you do the iron warriors meanwhile

as the EC start killing each other

another arm grab! take a shot!

yes i figured it out part of why perturabo wants fulgrim to go through with it is he wants to call him out! he wants catharsis

"the power of the Angel Exterminatus lies at the heart of the world, but it will take the two of us together to unlock it" lol lmao

"no more lies, brother, now that we are so close to victory" lmao

of course what did we expect

TemplarWarden:"No I refuse to character develop! Stop throwing lesson at me! You can't make me!" TemplarWarden: Gotta get an extra dose of hypocrisy in with his terrible decision making.

meanwhile outside, Forrix stares in horror as the EC kill each other

TemplarWarden: And yet somehow the Emperor’s Children still exist in 40k

somehow…they keep going Forrix is going to go and find out why

Forrix goes down, walking on the dead bodies, to go talk to Julius

and that's the cue for the wraithknights to wake up

so the mystery green light is revealed to be coming from the depths

there's also a whole bunch of paths

Fulgrim: look, i can actually be smart too

lmao it is ready

why did you say that why DID i say that

also finally someone recognizes the genre shift from gritty war drama or whatever to horror

TemplarWarden: I'm glad their helmets emote.

Falk takes a moment because he saw THE SKULL again, but, he's cool, he's chill, let's go

however…they are not alone

Perturabo yells for Fulgrim but he's vanished, lmao

back outside, Forrix and Julius fight together against the Wraithknights or wraithwhatevers

Sky: Psychomatons, maybe?

you know what psychomatons probably makes a bit more sense i'll allow it

i guess they don't make space marine helmets vomit-proof i feel like that's a design flaw

things aren't going well for the Iron Warriors

back with Perturabo the EC are whipping their mortal followers and he's like, okay, weird

:) :) :)

TemplarWarden: … Perturabo the dog with the brain of an orange cat Bluejay: i will make you tumblr famous for that comment Bluejay: at least among the Perturabo enjoyers Checkerheart: How many of those are there on Tumblr Bluejay: dozens of us

in the book, perturabo rallies all the iron warriors with the litany of iron and they fight the eldar constructs the wraith-whatever-they-ares meanwhile the EC are protecting their mortals, which puzzles perturabo

do you do you want to know what his plan is

he's going to go down into the depths alone also you see how it was a super unsatisfying ending to not kill perturabo, right? you see it already at this point, right?

har har har back on the surface, it's Toramino POV. As you might expect, he got Forrix's call for help, but is pretending he did not hear it it's the best possible time to launch a coup! and now for Perturabo's descent into the underworld

it's also very clear to him that this was not meant for humans because Perturabo's a primarch, he's got perception abilities beyond normal humans (no jokes, please, they just make themselves) because the ghosts can sense this, they're desperate to talk to him

i don't remember at which point i started actively rooting for him to get killed, originally, it was definitely before this though

this was, iirc the part where someone called him a stupid twink

TemplarWarden: Yeah that last line is pristine if he then goes to die. But hey, learning from mistakes is for chumps who make mistakes.

perturabo keeps going down

im getting a headache, bro

[maggie-004]

(Un-) Lucky coincidence – 4

Jenna Ortega x Fem reader

Summary: After Jenna stays at y/n's apartment, they bond over music, and y/n offers to teach Jenna DJing. Later, Jenna surprises y/n by suggesting she join the cast of the upcoming movie as a set nurse and audition for a role, leading to a heartfelt moment of gratitude between them.

Words: 1032

“Uhm y/n, can you spare me some comfortable clothes? My suitcase is with my driver and I just got a message that he’s in Munich to get the rest of the cast tomorrow.” Jenna asked me. “Yeah sure, no problem, come  with me” We got up from the couch in my living room an went into my room. I opened up my walk-in closet. “Feel free to chose whatever you’d like to wear” My closet is very basic, mostly consisting of Black and white. There are a handful of light blue, grey and beige pieces. “You have such a cool style, I love it. Oversized tomboy style, That’s literally my streetstyle I swear.” Jenna said. She took out my favorite shirt, it’s a beige shirt from the collection of RevedTV, Antonia, it has like a dark green angry cartoon computer as motive with the inscription `Tonis Computer club` and she took the matching black RVD (Reved’s brand) sweatpants. “those are literary two of my favorite pieces they are from my Best friends collection, Antonia, you remember, I told you earlier about her. She sent me literally everything out of her store five times, so my closet is mostly her brand” I explained laughing because I remembered when I got that huge ass package without knowing what is inside. “Oh she has her own brand? That’s so cool, so she’s like famous right?” Jenna asked me. “Well not famous like you, but like famous in all the German speaking countries. She is indeed the first female streamer in Germany who reached a million subs on twitch”, “Woah that’s really cool, are you on twitch aswell?” Jenna asked me. “Yeah but I’m not that active there, I have 900k subs but I only stream twice a week. Mostly I do late night sets with Toni.” I explained. “That’s so cool tell me your artist name I want to follow you”,  “Okay my artist name is on all the platforms the same it’s DJ  y/A/n. I know not very creative to put a DJ before it but well.” I said. “Oh wanna know something cool?” “First of all I don’t think it’s stupid, everyone knows by looking at your name that you’re a DJ and yeah sure tell me.” Jenna smiled. “I got booked for next Coachella festival next year, it’s my first live performance” I happily said. “Oh my got that’s so cool, I am there next year as well. I’ll be there with my sisters.” “Oh that’s so cool, so we’ll meet again. Amazing but hey do you wanna get changed and come to the balcony afterwards I’m heading out for a smoke. I suppose you don’t smoke right” I said suddenly feeling the need of a cigarette. “We are honest with each other, aren’t we.” Jenna asked. ”Yes of course, why”, “I do smoke sometimes, but this can’t get any attention by the press.” Jenna said all serious. “yeah no of course not, everything that happens here stays here, promised”. “All right thank you, well don’t you wanna change in more comfortable clothes, I don’t mind you staying here while I change, we’re both women”. “Yeah you’re right.” I grabbed some RVD sweat shorts and a black RVD shirt. When I took off my shirt I could swear I saw Jenna glancing over form the side of my eye. But again I could just imagined it. But I’ll be honest I took a few glances at her as well. I hope she didn’t noticed. When I was done changing I threw myself on the bed, not facing Jenna because I got red as a tomato. I can’t help it, she is fucking gorgeous, who wouldn’t have a slight crush on her?

-Jenna’s view-

I swear she was glancing over at me, but touché I guess. I sure glanced at her a few time myself. I can’t help it, this women is way to stunning. I hope I don’t fall to bad for her, because to be honest, I would lie if I’d say I don’t have a little crush on her. I finally was changed and laid down next to y/n. “So you’ll teach me a few DJing things later? You know I really love music, and Daft Punk, oh my god they have my heart.”, “Yeah sure if you’re still up for it, why not and I love Daft     Punk as well they are just amazing.”

-y/n view-

That’s when Jenna’s phone rang. “Oh sorry I got to take this, It’s Tim Burton.” She explained. I gave her a thumbs up and went out to my balcony. On my way there I grabbed my headphones an blasted music on them. Well long story short, One cigarette turned into three, and Jenna taped me on the shoulder 20 minutes later. I know normal people would flinch if someone taps them on the shoulder, when you can’t hear them, but I’m not easy to scare. “Well hello there, you want one?” I asked her while holding out my pack. “Sure thanks” she said and light her cigarette. She sat down next to me and started to say “well I just had a talk with Tim, the director of Wednesday, and well, you can say no if you want to but I suggested to bring you with me to Romania in two weeks as a set nurse… and I also mention that you always wanted to be an actress. We still have an open spot for a role that matches your description like 99%, so if you want we could record a casting scene later. Because Tim said that it would be perfect. Of course only if you want to”. Wow what the hell is going on. “Oh my god, that.. would be amazing. The part as the nurse I would love to take, and I also would love to audition. Wow thank you Jenna. That’s amazing and perfect timing. I have my graduation next week. Thank you Oh my god. Wow. Honestly I don’t know what to say” I just hugged Jenna. My good karma is still on track. I’m so glad I helped her earlier. “thank you” I mumbled into her shoulder.

A/N: So another part, let’s see how this goes on. This isn't proof read yet. FYI English is not my first language. I still hope you like it. :)

[akihabara-division03]

Happy 2 years to the cyber team of Akihabara Pixel Syndicate! Here’s to many more years! To celebrate it seems like they got a few gifts! 

To Anika from Kaoru - A silly meme shirt with a possum on it and a light green Polaroid camera.

“Happy Anniversary Hypno Girl! Just a little something to treasure the moments with those that matter!” 

To Shian from Lyall - A set of red leather handcuffs and a bar of aphrodisiac-laced chocolate. 

“Happy Anniversary Shian! I’m sure you can put these to good use for a good time. I know you’ll make someone very happy with it.” - Lyall 

To Makina from Kaoru - An oversized Kuromi hoodie and a set of shoes themed after a famous mecha anime series. 

“Screen Shot! Happy Anniversary! Yeah yeah, I know getting a gift from me is great right? Ha!” - 8Cloud

Of course, the most important part of any anniversary is the cake so to Pixel Syndicate, a personally made cake from Kanra!

“Happy Anniversary Pixel Syndicate! Congrats on the 2 years! Hope you’re having a great time celebrating! Enjoy!” - Kanra

“What. The. Fuck.”

Shian pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it was not this.”

Makina grabbed her new hoodie and threw it over herself, zipping it up and bringing the hood over her eyes.

Anika quickly grabbed her new favorite tshirt she will own and covered the rather… explicit bar of chocolate.

Shian picked up the handcuffs, spinning them around her finger. “More for my collection, I guess.”

“Ew, gross, I don’t wanna know about your sex life.”

Anika removed the tshirt and held it up over Shian’s body, studying her. “I think the caption fits you more than it does me. I don’t wanna hear about it either, but whoever you try them with, have fun… Just keep your bedroom activities out of Makina’s ears and my eyes.”

“She’s almost an adult and spends all her time on the internet, she’s old enough to know these things.”

Anika drew her arms back, hugging the shirt to her chest. “Well okay, then! Enough of that, let’s dig into this cake that’s half Makina’s size!”

“I fucking hate you both.”

Thanks for the gifts!

[firstdivisiongirl]

Heyo, it’s 🦈-nonym here, I wanted to ask for a small match up if possible!

One piece, please. Male + female.

So, my pronouns are he/him, I’m a trans masc dude and I simply love mechanics! I’m currently on the ending year of the technical school, in aircraft mechanical engineering class, glad I made it this far!

I’m pretty short, a bit over 5’5’’. Dark blonde mullet on my head, slightly chubby, and got big, green eyes. I think I might have slight difference in eye colour tone, since one’s a bit more dull green and the other — a bit more lively compared to the left one.

People tell me often that I’m pretty likeable, which I really am happy to hear, but I got some trust issues with that lol. My character is also mainly happy, cheerful, helpful and g o o f y. Also can become extra moody when it comes to that time of a month, and if a person dares to say something bad towards me — they can expect to be bitten back, both, in words and on skin.

My favourite snack is a pack of sour gummies and a small energy drink, I know it’s a really bad mix for my health, but a cup of coffee won’t work anymore 🥲

My fashion style is mainly circling around grunge and y2k, yeah — as you can guess I am still young, but not old either, only 20 years old.

My dream to achieve is to travel around the world, see the most famous airports and make a pilotage papers, even with my disability, so I could fly here and there. Gaining great money for my new adventures.

Thank you for reading this, I’m curious how it’ll come out! :D

Hello 🦈! It’s nice to here from you. The wait is over!!!! I hope you like it!!!

You Got…

Eustass Kid & Nami!!!!

We’ll start with Kid:

You two would love making things together. He’d always have you in his workshop!

Would love your style so much. He’d want to barrow all your clothes I feel like

You'd balance out his moodiness, if you’re moody, I think he would get upset and try to balance you out.

Would make sure to take you everywhere so you can experience the world.

Now for my twin Nami (lol):

Like Kid, she’d love your style. She has a similar style too.

Would help you achieve your dreams to travel. I could see her making a map of your journey together.

You two would be sassy together and also happy.

You want to gain money. She loves money. Enough said

I can see you fighting for her

i can also see you fixing her weapon for her (idk how to spell it but you know what I mean)

[thatcheeseycandle]

//SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 31 OF IN PURSUIT OF SELF

DING DING DING IVE REBLOGGED THE CHAPTER ITS TIME FOR THE REACTION TO IPOS CHP 31 WOOOOOOOOO

AGHGHSHDHFBFHSB THE TITLE CARD, AS ALWAYS, GOT ME HYPEDDDD AUDISJHA HD JSHANCBANDNDN

Wiat HWTA WHAT WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED?????

Ay AYYYYYY GREEN ARROW HERE AS EMPTIPNAL SUPPORT BEHAKAHDHD

AweewjahddvAJWSHAHDBDB FOUND FAMILY MOMENT NUMBER ONE

Oh no OH GOSH TORNADO- BEHAHAHAHHAHDJAHDHAHAH NGL WHEN I FIRST HEARD OF IT TOO I HAD THE SAME FEELING HEHAHAHDBNA

Okay boiler sludge is a fair name for it actually HEHAJHDNNNFNF

Oh OH TRUST ME TORNADO THEY REALLY ARE-

Arrow ARROW JUSKO- THE CATS ARE FIGHTING AGAIN THEY REALLY ARE-

Ay AY AN ARGUEMENT???? OKAY IM KINDA RECALLING ON WHAT IT COULD BE- WAIT PARDON????? OKAY THATS GOOD ARROWS TRYNA YKNOW BE GOOD

helahdDGHELAUSGD I NEEDED A FEW SECONDS TO PROCESS WHAT SHE JUST SAID IM SORRY BEHAHABDHD

I JUST GOT A QUICK FLASHBACK TO WHAT TAW VALLEY SAID ABOUT EVERYONE FLIRTING WITH SCOT WHEN I REAF THAT AND I DIDNT THINK IT WOULD BE TRUE NGL

Oh to be not famous and oh to just live peacefully- (insert very loud opera music)

Yes YES FIESTY TORNADO BEHAHF

AHEHAHDBD YES TORNADO ONE OF THE TRUEST WORDS YOUVE EVER SAID THEY ARE A CUTE COUPLE

Im sorry TAW VALLEY SAID WHAT NOW???? OHHHH BOYYY IM ALL EARS I REALLY AM IM ALL EARS ALL EYES AND EARS

Ohhh OHHHSHSHDHDKDBD TORNADO YKNOW ITS TIME SHE LEARNT ABOUT THE LOVE TRIANGLE THOSE TWO HAD BEHAJAHHDHS

Im very VERY EXCUTED THIS BIT NOW GOT ME EXCITED FOR THE NEW BLOG HEKAHFKD OOOHH THE TENSION

Ay AY AY WHAT WHATAFAQ TRURO???

Wait WINSTON KNEW?? HE KNEW ABOUT NORTH WHATAGBSADAKAKA HOW WHEN HUH

Oi OI WAIT AYYYY GOLD AND DP1 LETS GOAOAYDJFB THEYRE HERE

Yeah YEAHH THE COOL KIDS BEJAJDH

Ph wait.. OHW AHATA WAIT WIAY IS TRURO GONNA TURN HUMAN??? IS HE???

Wait WINSTON ITS STARTING TO STACK IP HES GONNA TRUROS GONNA DO IT

Truro TRURO YOU LITTLE YOU DO LOOK GOOD FOR GODS SAKE

Oh OH? WELL.. YEAH I MEAN NGL TRURO HAS A POINT NOW CONSIDERING THAT- BUT STILL HES RIGHT YEAHHH

Yeah YEHJAFJJAHAHSBC

Lady WHATSG OH EHS GONNA GO HES GONNA TODAYS THE DAY HES GONNA DO IT

WOAH WOAGDHQOWAOAGD AYAYAYAY AY AY AY

Oh Gold COME ON- THEYRE MORE THAN RELIABLE THEYRE COOL AND LOTS MORE WORDS I DONT REMEMBER BUT I KNOW FIT THEM

Ayy AYYY YEAHHAHAGD

Wait WIAT KING EDWARD II KING WDMEJSH YEAH SHAKR HER OFF DO IT DO ITYOU CAN DO IT YOU CNA DODO TUTJTKTTTT

King ed wjandd KING ENEEWARDD AHSHGKGJJA NAOOOOOO

Wait wait WAIR SIRNGEL??! 1??1?11!5????? WHATDTH

God HE HAS TO REST SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK-

As soon as I read King George's dialogue I STOOD UP FORM MY BEAD WYAYYEHAHAHSHDHHAHAHAHAHA FINALALAAAYSYYYYYY SHES DEAD SHES GONE SHES GONNA DIE FINALALALDTHAJ 1ST HNWNSNDBD

Ohhh OIHHOHOHOJJ GETETEVHER TSTNANEIRJT YEAHHH LET SGOGOOOOO SHES FINALLYYYYYYY SHES FINALLY DONE FOR LETS GOGOOOOO

Guess shes GOING BACK TO HISTORY CLASS HEJAHFMEKDNFB SHES FINALLY GONNA BR DONE FOR FIMALFYAHBD AFTER SO LONG SHES FINALLYYYY DONE

YOU LTIYKTLEE YOU LITTLESHE IS NOT THAT IF SHE WERENT THERE THE PLACE WOULD PROBABLY BE A MESS

Yes YES EYSGSGDYE GO STANIER HO GOGOGOGOGOGOGOOOO

OHGOHIHOGODOGOHOHON CAINE WAS HER SON????????? NOW PEOPLE THAT IS HOW YOU CONNECG PEOPLE TOGETGER IN WRITING OHGMSUODJSHFBFB I DIDNT WHAT OKAY I DIDNT EXPECT THUS GOGYSMFUUSUFKCJV

ATTEMPTED HOMICIDE????????? GWARATAHSGAGSRA

YOU LTITKLEE MS PARSOSN WHWY WODYSLS DYOSUDBDOTVRHAISI WHY OWUDLD YOU DO THIS TO US WHY WHAYHSHAAAAAAAA

SHE DIDNT HAVE TO DO IT

I had to pause form typing CAUSE MU GODOSHDB I COUDLTJNS LOSE KING EDWARD II ISTG ATLEAST KING GEORGE

MY HEART IS NOT OKAY.

Oughfjfhgv OUGUFJSHF GOD THIS BIT HURT ME THE MOST AGAGSHAHAGGAHAHAA

Oh OH TRURO IS THERE TRUROS THERE YUP WERE ONTO TRURO'S POV NOW

Somebody IMSOEEBOSDY COVER HIS EYES HE CANT SEE HIS FIANCE LIKE THSI HE CANT NOT NOW AAAAAAA

Mallard MALLARD YOU LITTLE AAAAAAVSHRJWHAGDHF NO YOU DO NOT CALL TRURO THAT MY GOSH

I needed a moment of silence to process what just happened.. WHATA WHAT. IM VERY CONCERNED FOR TRURO AND GADWALL- BUT HEY ATLEAST GADWALL CAN TALK NA CAUSE YKNOW ITS GONNA COME IN HANDY

Oh OHHHH WE GOING TO PENDENNIS HERE WE GO

I almost REHFELL GOFF MY BREBD IS THAT HIS TRUE NAME?????? NO WAY HE JUST USED HIS TRUE NAME OGHAMFUSYAJDB

"But it is hard to convince myself of my worth." HERE COMES THE TEARS THEYRE FLOWING

Im aorry CLUNC ASYLE DID WHTACA NOW? SHE HAS THE NERVE TO SAY THAT CAUSE ITS RICH THAT A FACT SHE'S TECNICALLY TOGETHER WITH UNION

BEHEJABDBSHS POOR PENDENNIS HES JUST CONFUSED ON HOW TRURO DID THAT HEHAHAHDBHWBDHDNDMSA

AQERJAUEYEHDB AWESHSB ITS OLD ART OF TRURO AND SCOT AT THE ENSNWHAJDHSNFB

And hey I FINISHED IT BEFORE DINNER HRJAHDNDHF WELL DONT I FEEL FULL ENOUGH TO NOT EAT EHAJDBD (full of tears HEKSFBS)

WOOO OKAY THAT WAS ANOTHER EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER EXCEPT THE MAIN EMOTION WAS SHOCK SO YEAH ANOTHER WELL-DELIVERED PLOT THAT HAD EACH BIT OF IT SMOOTHLY YET SHARPLY DELIVERED

Conclusion: A VERY WELL WRITTEN FANFIC BY REDWYVERNWRITES

(Im very VERY hyped for next chapter BEJAHDJDGC)

[fillycolt]

15 mutuals 15 questions

thank you for tagging me @skelkankaos :3 :3 :3

1. Are you named after anyone? ... unfortunately yes. queen elizabeth. my mum's family has been naming their kids that way for like 3 generations and the name aside from that has a lot of importance to me so i kept it

2. When was the last time you cried? i don't know, probably last week?

3. Do you have kids? no but i consider my pets my children (not in the annoying "i know what parenthood is like! i have a dog" thing but bc i love them very very much and i feel strongly like a mum to them etc)

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? not super i think?? i mostly tag along if someone uses sarcasm but i sometimes do myself. i prefer when sarcasm is either obvious in that it's suuuuper clearly exaggerated or when it's just completely nonsensical and probably only funny to me so i dont do it much organically

5. What sports do you play/have played? i never like, got on a team for anything, or did anything outside of gym glass, but i liked badminton. oh and in grade 4 i went to my school district's like cross country running thingy and i got in 101st place. one of the only non seizure/basically toxic shock syndrome related times i've fainted was next year's tryouts when it was too hot with a jacket but too cold without and i ran with a jacket on. oh and um i've played bloodbowl a couple times but also was never in a league but like i was gonna be

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people? their fashion probably

7. What’s your eye color? green and orange :3

8. Scary movies or happy endings? of the two i guess scary movies

9. Any special talents? i'm like, really good at controlling my experiences while high. i can write pretty good stories and shit. i can make any outfit work

10. Where were you born? ottawa

11. What are your hobbies? writing, making weird art, making and listening to music, playing video games, collecting my Collections

12. Do you have pets? I DO i love to talk about them. lentug is my beautiful snake daughter, she is a ball python, she is about a year old now but i celebrate my pets' birthdays as the day i got them and it hasnt been that long yet. shes so sweet and loves getting water poured on her and shes SUCH a good eater. then theres gawi, my precious guinea pig daughter who is a sweet little angel baby with me and licks instead of biting and has Big Feelings and Issues and Particularities but she is a bully to the others just a little bit. then dr pepper, who just turned a year old recently also and is a weird little freak of a guinea pig. she's a himalayan rex so she's albino, colorpoint, and has weird curly/frizzy fur and she bites to maim and she's SO fucking tiny even though she was the biggest of the litter and from two of the biggest guinea pig breeds. then there's my new little beasts: bobo, my old lady guinea pig who is all rumpled and so sweet and soft and loves her cuddly houses, and caramel, my even weirder freak naked beast of a guinea pig, whose ears slap when she shakes her head.

13. How tall are you? 5′5 since i was 11 or 12 lol

14. Favorite subject in school? english til high school then nothing bc i hated being there

15. Dream job? if i could publish my books and get like crazy famous without having to jeopardize my odsp til i'm solidly able to keep myself afloat for the indefinite future/at least longer than a few months so i can get back on odsp if needed... and i can use my money to travel across north america to write about weird little towns in different places... and to other places in the world to try all sorts of regional fruits and vegetables and snacks and do youtube videos about them. yeah that's it

tagging @thing2taste @1011100010 @shadowtouched @indicabutch @pranaferox444 @unseelie @rcris123 @xxm0nstrrrk1dxx @groblinboy @agatke @mothernatureslonelyson @wizardkins @07170 @forestsecretshack @solar-satan

[zepskies]

Oh, what a lovely surprise! I love this little artist!reader collection with Ben, and this is such a sweet addition. 🩵 (And not OOC at all!)

You left him on the couch with snacks and an old action movie that usually keeps him entertained for at least two hours – three if there’s enough gratuitous violence.

lmao she's cracked the code -- one of a few key ways to keep him occupied. 😂

But of course he has no sense of boundaries. "What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine," amirite? 🙄 Although I snorted laughing when you basically compared Ben to a neanderthal with the "discovered fire" line. 😂🔥

It's also so hilarious watching Ben critique a painting with some actual terminology, albeit with his usual flavor of crass lolll

He gestures toward the canvas, vaguely. “All this color, the-… what’s the word – texture. It’s got–…” He squints, licks his lips, searching for something. “Depth. That’s what they call it, right?”

Why yes, Benjamin. How cultured you are. 😆

“Those were pointillism. It’s a style.” “It’s a migraine. Looked like someone sneezed on a fuckin’ napkin.”

“Not ‘thanks, I guess.’” He steps closer, and something about the way he’s looking at you – uncharacteristically gentle, borderline sincere – makes you feel suddenly very small. “You’re talented. Like, actually talented. This is good. Museum good. Better than half the shit I’ve had to pretend to like at galas.”

Aww she's not good at taking compliments, is she? 🥹 (Or at least she's just not expecting them from Ben lmfao) Such an interesting thing that his "uncharacteristic gentleness" and compliments are making her feel smaller. ❤️‍🩹

“But seriously, I’ve seen a lot of shit in my day. Back in the ‘60s, I ended up at one of those warehouse things. You know, big parties, free booze, fuckin' weirdos in sunglasses? Some guy with a mop of white hair kept trying to talk to me about soup cans.” Your brows draw tightly together. “Are you talking about Andy Warhol?” “Yeah! That’s the one.” He shrugs casually, rolling his eyes at the memory. “Kept calling everything ‘genius’ and offering me a banana. Thought he was a fruitcake. Turned out he was famous. Who knew?”

OMFGGG I'm deceasedddd. Of course this motherfucker met Warhol -- and didn't vibe with him! Got too high a dose of his own medicine, didn't he? 🤣🤣🤣

Also this description of the painting:

The background of the piece is still unfinished. You’ve been working on it for days – an abstract portrait, full of deep greens, reds, golds and harsh brush strokes. It’s raw. A little messy. Way too personal.

Is she painting an abstract of Ben, perchance? Feels kind of like him in the deep greens, the red of his gloves, maybe the colors are a higher metaphor of her feelings for him. No? Just me and romcom heart reading too much into it? Never mind. 😝❤️💚💛

He doesn’t answer instantly – which is weird. Because usually, silence with him means he’s about to say something wildly inappropriate or launch into a story about the time he suplexed a Nazi into a tank. Instead, he pulls you closer by the hand he’s still holding – slow, calm, like you’re a feral cat he doesn’t want to spook – and gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his knuckle. He smiles like he can read your thoughts. “You’re blushing.”

lmaooooo I can't with you. I love how you blend humor and little metaphors and fluff!! It's always so entertaining, even when you're making me swoon. 😍

I love their little banter at the end too -- “It’s under the paint.” 🤣🤣

I really really like it, Wayne! I really do. 💖💖

I’m obsessed now with Soldier Boy with an artist!reader❤️ do you think you can write something where Ben sees one of readers pieces and is actually impressed? Like he gets all soft and compliments her (idc if it’s ooc😭) and reader gets all shy since he’s never that nice. Keep doing your awesome work I love reading everything you do!

A/N: I know you sent me this a long time ago, but it always stayed with me! I honestly loved that pairing so much, so here it finally is – another installment of Ben dating an artist! ☺️🎨

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Artist!Reader

Warnings: language, humor, weirdly not that OOC, established relationship, fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Main Masterlist || Soldier Boy Masterlist || Tag List

Drawn to You

He’s not supposed to be in here.

You left him on the couch with snacks and an old action movie that usually keeps him entertained for at least two hours – three if there’s enough gratuitous violence. But now, somehow, Ben’s standing in the middle of your studio like he’s caught you doing something wrong.

You’re not even sure why you left the painting out. It’s half-finished, not even something you meant to show him – or anyone, really. But the corner of the canvas had been poking out from under the drop cloth, and of course he has no sense of boundaries.

Now he’s standing in front of it like he just discovered fire – or maybe a grenade he forgot he’d thrown. Arms crossed over that broad and proud chest of his, sparkling green eyes narrowed, plush mouth slightly open.

Confused admiration.

You hover awkwardly by the studio doorway, heart ticking a little too fast in your chest. “It’s not done.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Just tilts his head a little, still staring. “You did this?”

“Uh-huh…”

There’s a beat of silence. You chew the inside of your cheek.

The background of the piece is still unfinished. You’ve been working on it for days – an abstract portrait, full of deep greens, reds, golds and harsh brush strokes. It’s raw. A little messy. Way too personal.

“You didn’t tell me you were hiding this in here.”

Your head whirls around, already flustered. “I’m not hiding anything, you just–… This is my space!”

“Yeah, and I just breached it like fuckin' Normandy.” He purses his lips, not paying much attention to you, head still jerking left and right, eyes fixed on the canvas. “Huh. You’re actually fuckin’ good.”

You blink. “Wait, what?!”

His eyes flick toward you, still that familiar sharp green, but softer than usual. “I said you’re good. Don’t make me repeat it.” He gestures toward the canvas, vaguely. “All this color, the-… what’s the word – texture. It’s got–…” He squints, licks his lips, searching for something. “Depth. That’s what they call it, right?”

“Uhm…” You tuck a paint-smeared hand behind your back. “Yeah, that’s, uh, usually the goal.”

He nods like he knows exactly what he’s talking about, like he didn’t just learn that word from an article someone else read to him. “It’s got, like… emotion. Makes you feel things. Which is weird, ‘cause I don’t usually–” He breaks off, shrugging. “You know.”

You can’t help it – you snort a laugh. “Feel things?”

“Shut up,” he says, but there’s no bite in it. His mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile. “I’m fuckin’ serious. This is the kinda shit people should be talking about. Not those goddamn… squiggly dot paintings you showed me last week.”

“Those were pointillism. It’s a style.”

“It’s a migraine. Looked like someone sneezed on a fuckin’ napkin.”

You roll your eyes, heat creeping up your neck. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Not ‘thanks, I guess.’” He steps closer, and something about the way he’s looking at you – uncharacteristically gentle, borderline sincere – makes you feel suddenly very small. “You’re talented. Like, actually talented. This is good. Museum good. Better than half the shit I’ve had to pretend to like at galas.”

You make a noise – somewhere between a laugh and a scoff – and look away, suddenly way too interested in the floor. “You’re being nice to me. What’s going on? Are you finally dying? Is it actually happening?”

He never says anything is good. The best you’ve gotten before was “not bad, considering you listen to sad girl music while doing it.”

“Careful,” he warns, but there is that hint of playfulness that swings with the word. “But seriously, I’ve seen a lot of shit in my day. Back in the ‘60s, I ended up at one of those warehouse things. You know, big parties, free booze, fuckin' weirdos in sunglasses? Some guy with a mop of white hair kept trying to talk to me about soup cans.”

Your brows draw tightly together. “Are you talking about Andy Warhol?”

“Yeah! That’s the one.” He shrugs casually, rolling his eyes at the memory. “Kept calling everything ‘genius’ and offering me a banana. Thought he was a fruitcake. Turned out he was famous. Who knew?”

You stare at him. “You met Andy Warhol?!”

“Briefly. Didn’t like him. Too smug. Liked to talk about himself a lot.”

Your lips curl in amusement, muttering, “Pot. Kettle.”

“You always paint like this?” he asks then, and it’s the softness in his voice that stays with you. He’s still looking at the painting like it surprised him.

“Only when I’m trying to work stuff out in my head,” you admit.

He nods slowly, eyes narrowing just a little. He looks at the canvas like it just whispered state secrets to him. You watch his expression shift from surprise to something dangerously close to pride. Like he found a shiny rock in a field and decided it must be a diamond.

“So what are you working out here?”

You hesitate. You don’t want to say it out loud, but a lot of it is him. The chaos, the unpredictability. The way he storms into your life and makes it impossible to think straight.

“I don’t know,” you lie. “Stuff.”

“Mmm.” He gives you a knowing look but doesn’t push. Instead, he reaches out – almost touches the canvas, then thinks better of it. “I like it. It’s loud. Kinda like you.”

Your mouth drops slightly. “I am not loud!”

He grins like the devil then – more like the man you know so well. “Yeah? Tell that to your neighbors when I fuck you, angel.”

You shove him lightly, and he doesn’t even flinch. Of course he doesn’t. Doesn’t even move an inch. Just catches your hand in his like he always does – easy, delicate – like it belongs there.

“I mean it, though,” he says, and his voice is lower now, less teasing. “You’re good. Like… makes-me-shut-up kind of good.”

He finally looks at you, and there’s something different in his expression. Less cocky, more real. Like maybe, maybe, he’s seeing you for the first time and not just his chaotic, caffeine-fueled girlfriend who lives off granola bars and impulse.

You look away, cheeks burning. “Stop it.”

Your heart does something deeply inconvenient – skips, flutters, maybe backflips. He’s got it doing gymnastics. God, you hate when he gets like this. All curious and quiet and goddamn nice like he didn’t punch a man into the sun two days ago.

“What, I’m being supportive.”

“You’re scaring me,” you quip, laughing a little – probably due to uncomfortableness and jittering nerves. “Seriously, who are you and what have you done with the arrogant man-child I’m dating?”

He doesn’t answer instantly – which is weird. Because usually, silence with him means he’s about to say something wildly inappropriate or launch into a story about the time he suplexed a Nazi into a tank.

Instead, he pulls you closer by the hand he’s still holding – slow, calm, like you’re a feral cat he doesn’t want to spook – and gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his knuckle. He smiles like he can read your thoughts. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You totally are.” His smirk is infuriating.

“I have paint on my face.”

“It’s under the paint.”

You swat his chest, because it’s easier than admitting he’s right. Ben, on the other hand, grins like a smug golden retriever with biceps.

“Gonna paint me next?” he asks. “Something tasteful. Maybe a toga – or no toga.”

You deadpan, “I could paint your mouth shut.”

He laughs, big and real and unfiltered. “God, you’re hot when you sass me.”

You roll your eyes so hard you see your past lives, but your heart still stutters in your chest like a traitor. You look up at him, but you’re smiling now, warm and glowing, even if you’re trying not to show it.

“You really like it?” you ask, quieter this time, almost afraid of the answer.

He doesn’t even hesitate, just smiles. “I really do.”

Hope you guys liked this! It's been stuck in my head forever. Glad I finally got to it 🥰

Let me know what you think! My inbox is always open for more of these shenanigans 😉💚

Looking for more Soldier Boy x Artist!Reader? Check out these stories:

🎨 French Boys

🎨 He Comes In Colors

Tag List Pt. 1:

@alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@lori19 @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @yoobusgoobus @jessjad @dayhsdreaming

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

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@lamentationsofalonelypotato @supernotnatural2005 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @m0e0v0v

[houseofbrat]

It must be a slow weekend for all the royal columnists.

Yeah, Prince William is supposed to be the "secret weapon" while he's on a vacation.

Again.

However, unlike his father, who gave Keir Starmer and Angela Rayner a tour of his sustainable housing project in Cornwall earlier this week and has been outspoken about green issues, William seems less likely to face accusations over impartiality. William should also be credited for supporting his wife through cancer.  Despite his own dysfunctional childhood, he has achieved the family normality that his late mother, Princess Diana, always craved.

William's father, King Charles, is STILL being treated for cancer. So nice of Ms. Tominey to completely omit this fact.

Throwing in a mention about William's "family normality."

Well, I guess these mentions were what the KP comms team wanted to get across while William is enjoying his "family normality" at a private island in the Caribbean.

Let's totally forget that the actual monarch, King Charles, is STILL being treated for cancer while William frolicks on a private beach far, far away from the cloudy & cold UK while on yet another vacation.

Let's totally forget that his wife no longer wears her world famous engagement ring when she's out in public.

Let's totally forget that William couldn't be bothered to travel to the USA for President Carter's funeral, which Trump attended.

Earlier this week, Donald Trump ruled out deporting Harry, saying: “He’s got enough problems with his wife.” The US president had previously indicated that the US border force should “take appropriate action” if it thinks Harry lied about his drug use on his visa application. Can it be coincidence that the climbdown came after Trump spent 40 minutes with William in Paris in December? 

No, I think the "climbdown" is that Harry a) is not important politically, b) is on an A-1 Head of State visa, and c) is likely to go back to the UK on his own. But I guess if you have column paragraphs to fill and make Workshy Will seem super duper important, then you have to make it seem as if William did something on behalf of his brother? Whom William allegedly doesn't even talk to these days?

And don't get me started on the bullshit of writing about how Diana "craved" "family normality." That woman flung from one shiny object to the next whenever she got bored. People who "crave" "family normality" don't do cocaine while off on holiday with their last boyfriend of the moment.

But you do you, Ms. Tominey. A short column that starts out discussing Harry's book from two years ago to fit in comments about how Workshy Will is going to be the savior of the UK because he "has emerged as the grown-up in the room"???

Bitch, please.