#900 hours is so impressive

[the-adventures-of-dave]

You're playing the long dark! Do you like it? I like it a normal, regular amount of someone with over 900h gameplay 😬 have you seen the acorns yet? Love to Dave and Kepler

The Long Dark (alongside the Last of Us) is probably my all-time favourite game! There’s something so comforting about TLD, I can’t really put into words how much I love it.

I just started a new Pilgrim save for the DLC, I’m sooo excited to explore the new Tale. I found acorns but I have no idea how to use them yet. Looking forward to figuring that out lol

#900 hours is so impressive #and such a mood ahaha #I think I’ve got closer to 300 between steam and the switch #this game is just… #*chefs kiss* #y’all followers who haven’t played it go check it out it’s great #it’s got a story mode it’s got a survival mode it’s got Canadian gothic vibes #the studio that makes it has been updating the game consistently for like 10 years now #it’s awesome I love it #11/10 #not cats #the long dark #thanks for the ask! #ask

[jals-stuff]

dudeeee orter is SOOO overworked it's crazy. man just looks like a stick and he can probably sleep while standing it's almost scary 💀 love him tho!

IKR man can probably sleep with his eyes open too, just imagine laying in bed and he's sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room with his eyes wide open but he's sleeping LMAO best sleep paralysis demon tbh. your ask did inspire me tho thank you anon ♥ just a very short one!

word count: 900 ish

Train ride.

"Are we there yeeet?"

Your voice took him out of his intense focus as he looked up from his book, golden eyes narrowing in annoyance at your childish whine. You had been Orter's teammate for about a year and a half, so he was pretty much used to it now.

"Will you stop asking? The train left less than an hour ago."

A deep sigh escapes your lips and you rest your head against the table in sheer boredom. It was your idea, after all, not to bring any distractions because what's a few hours long train trip anyway? Nothing you can't handle, or so you thought.

The two of you were on your way back to the Bureau after a long, exhausting mission that should've been mainly investigation, but had somehow escalated into a wild goose chase after the main suspect had ran away.

Your eyes shot up to look at him but his attention was already back on his book. Out of curiosity, you switched your seat and plopped down next to him to read a few lines of it— which was dumb, he was already midway through the book.

His eyes travelled to your form for a few seconds before he resumed his reading, not minding your closeness as long as you wouldn't disturb him. "Why didn't you bring a book? Or... whatever things you allow yourself to be entertained by."

You shrugged dismissively as your eyes kept carefully following the lines. How interesting is it that the human brain can make something this boring look so enticing whenever there are no other distractions around?

"It's fine... I can read your book, too."

He decided not to respond and flipped the page to keep reading. What was interesting, however, was to know what kind of books Orter likes to read, even though you couldn't really guess what the story was about right now.

"Aren't you tired?"

He adjusted his glasses on his nose and quietly cleared his throat.

"What gave you this impression?"

Answering him that "oh, your reading speed is slower than usual, your hair is just a little messy and you blink very slowly" would be admitting that you've been staring a little too long at his handsome features.

"...call it a hunch." You chuckled softly at your own thoughts and he raised an eyebrow but didn't dig any deeper.

He flipped yet another page after a while, but it was just a little too quick for you.

"Hey, hey, I wasn't done! ..let me hold the book on this side." He sighed deeply but knew very well that if he didn't abide to your tantrum, you would probably be more annoying.

So here you were, holding half of a book while he held the other part of it. Your thumb was holding the page a little deeper than necessary to make sure the book wouldn't escape your grasp or that he wouldn't try to turn a page without asking.

Another page flipped, and you found yourself quite relaxed, your shoulder resting against his, reading peacefully... until he was done with the page you were holding— or almost.

You see, your thumb was covering a small part of it, and instead of asking out loud, his hand made his way to yours and he gently brushed your thumb aside so he could keep reading.

Needless to say, you were really agitated now. You decided to let him turn the page, unable to focus on the story any further and trying to control this embarrassing blush that had crept on your face.

No questions were asked, and he flipped the page again. You tried to read the first few words again, but it now felt like you were fully aware of his shoulder against yours, of his leg against your own on the train's sofa, and of his soft sighs as he kept on reading.

You really did try to keep reading for a long time, and you realised Orter hadn't flipped the page in a while now. Was he... waiting for you? You were about to apologise for taking so long when you felt his head against your shoulder.

He hadn't let go of the book, but he was now peacefully asleep, looking very relaxed against your shoulder.

His warm, soft breathing against your neck only made you more flustered, but it was somehow extremely soothing. You carefully removed his glasses and folded them on the table.

You slowly pushed the bookmark inbetween the pages and closed the book, sliding it on the table as he let his hand fall back to his lap.

Now, to see which of you would be more embarrassed when he would wake up...

After three or so hours, his eyes fluttered open, only to be greeted with an unusually blurry vision... where were his glasses?

As he was about to reach for them, he felt some kind of weight against him and, upon further inspection, it seemed to be your limp figure, sleeping with your head on top of his.

One movement too quickly made and your head fell from his, landing on his shoulder and visibly not disturbing your sleep enough for you to wake up. You only gave a quiet groan as you softly nuzzled him.

He gave a deep sigh as he looked at you and your messy hair, eyes closed and looking so peaceful...

He mindlessly brushed a few strands of hair away from your face, gently placing them behind your ear, his thumb lingering a little against your cheek as he chuckled quietly.

He rested his head on top of yours and closed his eyes again. The ride wasn't over yet, surely he could indulge in a bit more of this temporary peace, right..?

#orter madl #orter mádl #mashle orter #orter x reader #orter madl x reader #orter mádl x reader #mashle x reader #mashle #orter madl x you #mashle fluff

[reallyromealone]

Title: tattoo dates

Pairing: dabi x keigo

Fandom My hero Academia

Warnings: baby reader, single dad Dabi, no quirk au, fluff

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

Don't be the step dad, be the dad who stepped up.

The sound of summer could be heard in the early morning of Tokyo, the cool air refreshing for Keigo as he stepped into the small tattoo parlor and taking in all the art on the walls. It was actually quite nice... The parlors he looked at online seemed to try and look more badass but this one was organised and incredibly clean "you're my 8:30, right? Keigo Takami?" What he wasn't expecting based on the aesthetic of the parlor was a black haired man covered head to toe with tattoos and piercings, a loose fitting worn tank top that looked intentionally worn out and a pair of black cargo pants and god Keigo was thankful he was wearing sunglasses as he noticed a feint outline.

"That's me~ thanks for fitting me in so early!"

"Yeah, whatever... You wanted a back tattoo right? Do you have a picture?" Dabi was tired, his kid was sleeping in the other room as it was too early to take him to daycare today and the little guy wasn't feeling well so he didn't want him far away "so serious ~ trying to be all tough for me?" Keigos charm was not working as Dabi rolled his eyes "get on the table and take off your shirt" the black haired man said as Keigo pouted but sent him the reference as their phones touched, hopping on the table and removing his shirt.

"Wings?"

"Red ones" hawks said as he rested his cheek on his fore arm, arms crossed over one another relaxed as he felt the other prepare the tattoo and sanitize his back "what shade?" Dabi asked softly as he prepared the tattoo pen "a bright red...crimson almost"

Dabi was focused, the mirror infront of the table, full length and clean as crystal thus giving Keigo a full view of his tattoos arms flexing under the florescent lights "your parlor is much different the others" Keigo said breaking the silence as the needle hit his skin "yeah, gotta keep things clean..." He said simply, Keigo noting how everything was kept at least 3 feet off the floor or locked away.

Music played softly in the background as Dabi worked away "so what do you do for fun?"

"Don't have much time for hobbies" Dabi said simply, the detail he was putting into it was impressive especially the price the other was paying "really? How come?" Keigo asked curiously and the black haired man looked at him from the mirror "being a dad doesn't give much free time"

"You're a dad?"

"Yeah, eight month old... He's sleeping in the other room right now" it was rather early Keigo thought, having booked out of hours for security reasons "I see..."

The two worked for another hour and a half till Keigo was given a break, looking at the work so far he was quite impressed as Dabi went to the other room to check on the kid "hope you don't mind, he's pretty chill so he won't cause issue"

Ok, why was this man so attractive holding a kid? What the fuck.

Keigo tried not to look flustered as the tiny baby looked back sleepily, drinking his bottle calmly before being set in his play pen that was off to the side "normally I don't keep kid stuff here..." (Name) babbled softly as he played with his toys, fully content doing his own thing as dad was fairly close "you ready to continue?"

By the end of the session, Keigo smiled at the babe who was vibing "your total will be 900" the detail on the wings were insane, best work the other has done as Keigo smiled "thanks for being normal... Most places freaked out when they met me"

"Who are you?" Dabi asked blankly and Keigo looked startled but smiled "just an actor, ya know?" Dabi shrugged as the actor paid for his tattoo, (name) snuggling into his dad's arms as the actor left.

But that wouldn't be for long.

Keigo showed up for another tattoo, though this one would have to be in phases as (name) had a doctor's appointment "yeah, he has teeth growing in... So gotta make sure it's going alright" (name) was chewing on a cold teething ring as Keigo booped his forehead, the babe looking confused but didn't do much else.

"A date?" Dabi raised an eyebrow as Keigo leaned over the counter "yeah, I found a good restaurant and it has a kids menu... Maybe mashed potatoes for the big guy over there" (name) looked up as he was chewing on his dad's fingers "you know what a date means right? Were a package deal, he comes first" dabi was deathly serious and Keigo smiled "absolutely"

"Then wine and dine me pretty boy"

#dabi x Keigo #hawks x dabi #male reader #x male reader #fluff #baby reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader

[pupkou]

✧ No Lights To Tell Us ✧

✦ Zagreus (Hades 2018) x Gender Neutral Reader. ✦ Warnings: slight mentions of gore (mention of beheading), mention of blood, mention of swords/blades. ✦ Word Count: 900. ✦ A standalone one shot, set within my "Blood and Darkness" universe (but not yet somewhere specific in that story's timeline). ✦ Link to part one (parts are not yet connected).

Zagreus is nothing if not devoted.

That sentiment applies to everything he's interested in-- but really 'obsessed with' is a better way of putting it, because he doesn't lightheartedly ponder or enjoy anything. He's too intense for any lighthearted observation and studying because he connects too deeply with the stories of others and the worlds that they live in, his heart too big to live without sorrow. Despite his attachments, he lives to find a place of his own, to feel like he belongs, and his ambition to complete this quest has not been strained.

While living in the Underworld provides him with so much inspiration for adventure and reasons to dash around, defeating friends and foes alike, Zagreus can say that his favorite adventure has been knowing you.

Before you, Zagreus trained with Achilles for as many hours as the great hero allowed-- starting their sessions back when it was revealed to him in a dream that there is a world outside of the house of Hades. Zagreus obsesses about his trainings, the way he moves is careful and planned because one wrong move could send him plunging back into the depths of red blood that always seem to greet him eventually-- warm, but not kind. His movements matter because you can only get beheaded so many times before it gets old, and Zagreus prefers to spill blood with a slash of his blade than to be the one lying cold and hard against the stone floor.

But he's also devoted to you, his most beloved (as he calls you).

He did all of the outdated courting rituals, like inviting you over for a grand feast, gifting you ambrosia won in battle, and demonstrating the best way to remove the sweet beads of fruit from a pomegranate (as any good prince would do for a prospective partner) but Zagreus didn't need all those formal actions to be sure of how he feels.

Zagreus, since the moment he laid eyes on you, was obsessed with you. Like a hunting bird watching its soft, warm-hearted prey from above as it flies steadily above, Zagreus set his sights on you, and needed you more than anything. His desire for you outweighed any other, so strong that he lent Orpheus a few words on longing and tenderness. He didn't need time to love you; because his devotion to you was formed in an instant, rendered unchangeable and strong within the blink of an eye like a blacksmith plunging a sword into dark, cool water.

You are his main devotion, his beloved, his favorite shade, and it is through Zagreus' obsession with you that you learn what it is to be loved by a God.

One night, under the living stars and lying on the plush earth of his mother's garden, he rests his head in your lap as you comb your fingers through Zagreus' dark locks of hair. His laurels are set to the side, simmering with crimson and glittering with gold, and he is at peace in your embrace.

"Zagreus?", you say softly, pulling him out of his trance and drawing his bicolored eyes toward you. His eyes of garnet and emerald shine at you inquisitively as his mouth smiles, pleased at hearing his name from the mouth of his lover, the sweetest song he knows.

"Yes, beloved?", he answers, kind and warm.

"Did you hear that the villagers of your mother's hometown have built a temple in your honor?"

"I did, love," he beams, proud of their efforts and appreciation. "Their offerings were quite impressive, I need to remember to reward them with a bountiful season of hunting for their efforts."

"That's kind of you," you muse, petting his hair still as he leans into the soft press of your hand against him. "They're lucky to have someone who is as generous as you, Zagreus."

"You flatter me, darling. I just.. try to give everyone what they deserve," he says, sighing as he looks up at the stars dancing through the night sky, "and to be someone they can believe in."

"I know it isn't easy, my love. After all, if all Gods are worshipped, who is left for the Gods to believe in? Who is there to guide those whose hands mold mortality?"

"It's a bit late to get philisophical," he jokes, although it is without much humor behind his voice. "But I believe that the answer is that we are left with only what we cherish. For me, you are cherished-- so I have you to believe in, to lean on, and to worship in this infinite strand of life. You love me even when I have no offerings, and not even any blood to spill into your cup, and it is not because of my power. You know better than anyone that Gods only have what they have been given-- we have no lights to tell us our fates, only stars."

"I do love you, Zagreus," you affirm, leaning down to kiss his forehead. So many thoughts swirl within his mind, and your kiss helps to soothe his celestial thoughts of life and love. "And I thank the stars that they have led you to me."

Above your heads, in silver and gold, the stars sparkle brighter in their carefully planned formation, as if they are content with the way the scroll of fate has unfurled perfectly.

lmk what you think plz <3 love you

@allright @transchainsawman 💜

#zagreus x reader #zagreus x you #hades game x you #hades game x reader #zagreus hades game x reader #zagreus hades game x you #zagreus x gn reader #zagreus x gender neutral reader

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

After Hours (Boss!Geto x Assistant!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Self-Insert!Reader

Synopsis: In which Geto Suguru, your boss, and owner of his own public relations firm, celebrates a job well done on a five-month-long project with you, his trusty secretary, but what was once a friendly, professional relationship between you turns into something else when the staff goes home for the night and champagne gets involved.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized!; Crush Confession; Boss/Secretary; Some Power Play; Sexual Tension; Coworkers to Lovers; Office Sex; Mild BDSM; MDom/fsub; Geto Pours Champagne on the Titties & Kitty; Temperature/Sensory Play; Ice Play; Cunnilingus; Sex Against the Window; Geto Got a Big Ol' Dick; Unprotected PIV; Mutual O; Cum on Ass; Aftercare; Surprise Ending 

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Once again, a big thank you to @curiouscutie143 for allowing me to bring her fantasies to life. I had so much fun writing boss!Geto & now I wanna lowkey write a longer fic about an office romance with him. Enjoy! -Jazz

*********

“Cheers,” your boss says with a smile. “To the successful end of this stupid fucking waste of time.” 

You laugh, lightly clinking your champagne flute with the extremely handsome, wealthy, intoxicating man sitting next to you on his office couch…who also, again, happens to be your boss. “It wasn’t a waste,” you giggle. “But I will say it was very time-consuming. At least we got it done in time.” 

Geto Suguru hums in agreement as he takes a sip of the champagne in unison with you, making even that look hot.

He is truly a man to behold with his long, black hair he kept tied into a respectable ponytail, a lean build under his button-down and slacks, gage earrings that he purposely kept in for tonight’s festivities, brown eyes you could swim in forever, and tattoos that he usually keeps hidden beneath his blazers and designer suit jackets, but tonight are exposed under his rolled-up sleeves. 

He puts all models and men to shame with his beauty. And wealth! He is his own boss and CEO of his own PR firm which he has owned for over six years now. It skyrocketed in popularity in only a year, earning the title of the 6th most popular business in Japan which has jumped to 2nd place on that list. You joined his team two years later as his personal secretary after working as an assistant for his HR team. 

Geto, who interviewed and hired you, was so impressed with your work and presentation that he offered you the job. “I need a personal secretary,” he explained to you, “and I think you’d be the perfect fit.” Two years later, you’re still here and you don’t see yourself going anywhere else. Geto is a wonderful boss who offers great pay, supreme benefits, and understands the importance of mental health days. 

Though he doesn’t allow anyone to play with him or his money. If he suspects that an employee is not giving him the most on the clock or is taking advantage of his kindness, he will either straighten them out himself with a private meeting or send them on their way. However, he is a kind, respectable, understanding man that you are honored to have worked for for four years. 

And a man that you have embarrassingly been crushing on for four years. “All thanks to you,” he praises. “I can’t tell you enough how grateful I am to you, V. Seriously; I so appreciate all of those times you’ve stayed late with me and the team and set up all of those lunch meetings and conference calls.” 

Those eyes, so generous and kind, smile at you in his spacious, luxurious office. Seriously; Geto’s office is like a damn penthouse stretching over 900 square feet with polished marbled floors and open-brick walls. A kitchenette, coffee section, wine mini bar, and bathroom sit on the left side of the office while his mahogany desk and bookcase sit on the right.

His lounging section, or “decompression area” as he calls it, sits smack dab in the middle, included with two chairs and a couch you both currently occupy with a glass coffee table sitting in the middle. 

Though the office is wide enough for space, you feel as if the walls are closing in on you the more you sit and stare at Geto. “Well, that’s my job anyway,” you joke, clearing your throat. “It was no trouble, Mr. Geto, really! I’m honored you chose me to work with you on this.” 

Geto scoffs, raising an eyebrow at you as he begins to loosen his tie with one hand. “You thought I wouldn’t?” he chuckles. “You’re my trusted assistant and a great employee. Plus, dealing with people is your specialty, unlike me. If anyone was needed on this project, it was you.” 

You feel like you flush as red as the cocktail dress you are wearing despite the fact you’re as Black as your mama.

Tonight was the celebration of your five-month project ending. Geto has been interested in partnerships and merging his firm with other companies, especially tech companies. When a popular tech firm in Germany reached out, it took about five months to get everything finalized and a lot of reaching out to multiple people. 

You sweated over this project, doing work at home, setting up meetings, and sometimes staying late with Geto and his business team where he ordered Chinese and pizza for the crew around dinnertime.

There were also days and nights when everyone wasn’t here then you’d be with Geto in his office, typing up memos and emails he would think of at the top of his head. But you didn’t mind. Not only did your boss pay you overtime for all the hours you spent working on this, but it also meant you could spend more time with him. 

Finally, just a week ago, the project was completed and Geto’s partnership was greenlit. All staff was invited to the party, including those who didn’t even work on it, to celebrate such a milestone for Geto’s firm. Food, alcohol, and music were all included, lasting from 5 PM to 9 at night.

You danced and sang karaoke with your coworkers and friends, trying to get Geto to join in though it was like trying to pull teeth out of his mouth. He looks more relaxed now as he loosens his tie and pops a collar to his shirt, revealing the column of his throat and toned chest. You look away, feeling warm. 

“Now I can finally rest without hurrying here at 6 AM to prepare for meetings or deal with that stupid fucking Excel chart,” he huffs, revealed. “And we’re blessed with a new partnership. Praise God or whoever.” He points his glass to the ceiling before taking a sip of the Brüte champagne. You giggle, feeling his relief. 

Suddenly, the door to his office opens and you startle as if you were just caught in a very compromising position with your boss. Gojo Satoru, your supervisor, Geto’s right hand, and the heart throb of the office (understandably since the man is just as fine as Geto), pokes his snow-white head into the room. 

“You two still in here?” he scoffs, glaring at you beneath his glasses. “Oooh, are those more of those cupcake cheesecakes?” He strides into the room and bends down to pluck one of the tiny cakes off of Geto’s desk, but Geto chucks a pillow at him. “Uh-uh, greedy,” he criticizes. “You barely left any of the food at the party earlier. Besides, aren’t you goin’ for dinner now?” 

Gojo catches the pillow with one hand, grinning. “Dinner and drinks,” he cackles. “Shoko, Yuki, and I were wonderin’ if you two wanted to come along and not be boring for once.” He slips his glasses down his nose and winks at you, indicating that he’s joking.  

Knowing his game and having this relationship with Gojo, you play along. “I am not boring,” you scoff, putting a hand to your chest. “My cat thinks I’m a lot of fun at 3 AM, thank you very much. I put on all kinds of concerts for her!” 

Geto gives a big laugh that lights your insides up while Gojo physically cringes. “Fun to us isn’t just downing shots and passin’ out on our couch, Satoru,” your boss scoffs. His friend takes a moment to think about it, sitting down on the edge of Geto’s desk. “Okay, point taken, but the offer is still open. C’mon, we need to celebrate and it’s a Friday night!” 

Even with his friend’s whining, Geto shakes his head, looking apologetic. “Thanks, but not tonight,” he sighs. “I wanted to clean up my office a bit before I head home and get some much-needed sleep.”

Gojo takes his glasses off and rolls his ocean-blue eyes. “Such an old man,” he huffs. “What about you, Ms. V? You up for some fun with me?” The gorgeous, Colgate smile he gives you is full of temptation, but you’ve already had enough drinking and dancing for tonight. 

“Thank you, Satoru,” you sweetly say, “but I have to get ready for a family event tomorrow. My mom is forcing me to help cook.” You get up from the couch and saunter over to him, barely seeing his eyes glazing over your hips. “Buuut if y’all ever decide to have another night out, let me know and I’ll put it on my calendar.” 

You take the pillow from him and offer him a sweet smile which he returns. It damn near makes him prettier. “Will do,” he replies. His phone suddenly dings and he sighs. “That’s Shoko chewin’ me out,” he announces, slipping off the desk and heading to the door on his long legs. “I’ll see you two kids later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…or do. I don’t give a fuck.” 

He gives you another wink and a smile before slipping out of the office and shutting the door behind him. “Have fun!” you call after him. Once he leaves, you realize how quiet the building seems. “Any of the janitors still here?” you curiously ask Geto. 

He is still sitting on the couch, one arm draped over the back of the couch and still sipping his champagne. “Nah, I sent everybody home after the party ended.” He gives you a curious look, almost looking like a puppy...or maybe that’s just the champagne getting to you. You only had a half of glass at the party and now you find your current glass empty. 

“How come you didn’t want to go with Satoru, if you don’t mind me asking?” he suddenly asks, his head cocked to the side. You don’t mind since Geto and you have a very “close” relationship. 

It’s one of the closest you have at work, ironically enough. You know what his condo looks like having visited there before to deliver papers and packages that accidentally came to the office.

You know his birthday and he knows yours, even sending you flowers to your apartment every year, each one bigger and more beautiful than the last.

You talk about anything that annoys or bothers you when you find yourselves together, even sometimes having lunch together (for work purposes). 

You would say that he is almost like your work husband, but that would be pushing it. You find yourself needing to remind yourself that he’s your boss! No matter how good he looks in his suits or the way you feel when he praises your work, you must remember that. This is your job. Your responsibility.

“Eh,” you sigh with a shrug. “Sometimes, I just like being home to unwind and relax. Nothing beats a glass of wine, a hot bath, and a movie.” Geto nods, understanding. 

“What about you?” you curiously ask as you sit back down beside him. “Why didn’t you go with Gojo? He’s your best friend, right?” 

Geto drains the rest of his glass before pouring another. “Unfortunately,” he jokes, making you laugh. He seems to enjoy that. “Nah, but I’m the same: sometimes, I like to unwind with some drinks and social outings, and other times, I just chill at home in my very spacious, very lonely condo with my dog. When you’re the owner of a PR firm, it’s usually the second one.” 

You can’t help but feel sad about that. “So was that story about your mom a lie?” he asks with a smirk. Sheepishly, you nod. “So I’m guessin’ that show for your cat is the move for tonight?” 

You would say yes, but something pulls you back. You don’t know if it’s the champagne or the way Geto’s cologne smells, but something is keeping you glued to the couch with him. “W-Well, I was gonna say I can help you clean up your office if you want…a-and drink the rest of this champagne!” You pick up the bottle and pour yourself another glass, raising it to him. 

Geto looks taken aback as he clinks his glass with yours. “I mean…if you want,” he hesitantly says. “You absolutely don’t have to stay for my sake, V. You’re not on the clock.” 

You flush, not wanting him to think you’re weird for staying here or that you have ulterior motives (which you do). “It’s okay!” you laugh, waving your manicured hand. “Really! Call me weird, but I kind of like organizing.” 

Geto laughs at this, getting up from the couch. “Well, now I know why your office is so pristine,” he chuckles. “Lemme turn on some music then.”

You watch him as he walks over this his desk, shamelessly ogling his firm, toned, juicy ass in his slacks. You would give so much to feel it in your hands, your nails digging into the flesh while his hips grind against yours, his cock buried deep inside your– 

The sound of a piano mixed with horns and a smooth bass makes you jump, deep in your naughty thoughts. Geto sighs and his shoulders loosen as he presses the volume up on his Bluetooth, happy and relaxed.

“Jazz music?” you snort. He gives you a sheepish smirk. “I know, I know: I’m an old man.” To make him feel better, you begin to snap your fingers, albeit offbeat, and that makes him laugh even harder. 

For the next hour, you sit with your boss and help him organize his office while downing champagne. While he rearranges items on his desk, you lounge on his couch with your heels off and organize documents, either throwing some away or keeping some to file. You talk every so often about everything––new movies, restaurants, plans for the summer, etc. But the silence that follows these conversations isn’t awkward, but peaceful and comfortable. You feel relaxed with Geto. 

“So what’s the plan for this weekend?” he suddenly asks as he organizes his bookcase. “Maybe a date or something?” You pause, not sure why this question is making you feel so frazzled. “If that’s too personal, I understand,” he quickly adds, noticing your reluctance to answer. 

You push your glass away, having already finished your second glass. You feel bubbly and loose, the alcohol sinking its claws into you. “No,” you reply, sheepishly so. “No dating for me right now with work and everything. Maybe one day if I find the right person.” 

Geto hums and goes back to organizing his books. You continue to work, mostly to give your hands something to do. “What about you?” you ask. “With your kinda money, you could take a weekend trip to Mexico for the hell of it, if you wanted!” 

Your boss suddenly turns, his expression stoic and a brow raised. “Exactly how much money do you think I have, Ms. L/N?” he asks in a deep voice that makes your pussy jump.

At first, you think you went too far but then you see the corner of his mouth flick upwards. “Like you don’t have a condo,” you scoff. “Which I know because I’ve sent you packages from work and secret admirers before.” 

Geto’s brows wrinkle cutely. “Secret admirers?” he parrots. You nod, already giggling at one particular memory. “You remember the flowers sent here when you were sick with COVID that time?” 

He blinks, clueless, and then his eyes widen. “Ohhh, yeah!” he laughs, tossing his head back. “God, Gojo wouldn’t leave me alone about that for weeks. She was an old partner of mine who heard through the grapevine that I was sick.” He turns and leans against his bookcase, his, big, tatted arms crossed over his chest. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, still shuffling papers. You want to give yourself something to do as the next question gnaws at you. “A…business partner?” you carefully ask. You never knew who this woman was that sent Geto the flowers; only that you didn’t know her but she knew your boss. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, giving you a smile that looks almost saddened. “I haven’t dated anyone long-term in over two years. Like you said, maybe one day if I find the right person, but that hasn’t happened yet.” He chuckles to himself. “You’d think it’d be easy with my status, right?” 

You don’t say anything for a while and the silence becomes thick even with the music playing. When he turns around to finish his work, you finally get up the nerve to speak to his backside. 

When you start, you can’t stop yourself, the champagne overflowing out of your mouth. “You know, if it’s any consolation to you, I-I think you’d deserve to meet someone nice,” you stutteringly say. “You’re a very good man, Mr. Geto.” 

And then he turns slowly to you and the way the city lights from the window reflect on his shocked face and in his eyes makes you realize what you just said. “V,” he says, his voice breathless and soft. You cover your mouth but it’s too late. You can’t take them back. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said that,” you quietly gasp. 

Immediately, you get up, but the papers you were organizing fall from your lap onto the floor. 

“I’m so, so sorry!” you squeak. “I-I should leave!” You’re near tears, a hot rush of humiliation falling on you. You fall onto your knees and begin picking up the papers, swearing as you do. 

“No, no, V,” Geto says, walking toward you. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry.” 

“No, I do!” you protest. “That was totally inappropriate! I don’t know why I–” You pause when your finger catches against the edge of a sheet of paper too quickly and it slices into your skin. 

“Ow!” you hiss, immediately snatching your hand away and dropping the paper. 

Quickly, Geto stops the music and rushes over to you. He kneels down in front of you, crushing the papers under his knees as if they mean nothing. “What happened?” he demands.

You silently show him your bleeding finger, whimpering at the sting. “Lemme see,” he says, already taking your hand. He examines the cut and frowns at it. “Oh, honey, it cut you deep,” he coos, the pet name making your stomach flip. He’s never called you that before. “Here, don’t move,” he orders and quickly hurries to his bathroom. 

He returns with a first aid kit and coaxes you to sit up on the couch. He takes your wounded finger in one hand, holding an alcohol swab in the other. “It may sting a bit,” he warns. “Just squeeze my leg if it’s too much.” And it does sting. You hiss and grip his thigh as he cleans the cut, watching your expression. “That’s it,” he softly coos. “Good girl.” 

Your stomach flutters and your body grows hot at the very inappropriate pet name, but what is more inappropriate are the past thoughts you’ve had about him calling you a good girl. His good girl. He smiles at you when he finishes cleaning the cut. “Hard part’s over,” he chuckles. “Now I’ll just add some antibacterial cream and a band-aid to make it all better.” 

You stay quiet as he applies the cream to your cut, his touch soft and gentle. “I’m sorry, Mr. Geto,” you whisper. He narrows his eyes at you. “What are you talkin’ about?” he scoffs. “V, you didn’t do anything wrong. It was just an accident. You could never do anything to upset me…except think that you don’t deserve to date right now.” 

The silence around you swells the instant he says it. “W-What?” you whisper, gaping at him. He continues his work, now wrapping the band-aid around your finger. “Y’know, if it’s any consolation to you, you deserve to meet the right man too. You’re so sweet and smart and beautiful…who wouldn’t want you?” 

Finally, he finishes and just looks at you. You look at him too, both of you just staring at each other in the dimly lit office. Geto finally breaks and pinches the bridge of the nose. “God, I really shouldn’t have said that,” he groans. “We shouldn’t be doing any of this.” 

Seeing his internal battle and realizing that he feels the same way you do, you keep your hand on his thigh and squeeze. “Suguru,” you softly say. “It’s okay.” 

He looks at you in shock. This is the first time you’ve ever used his first name, especially when talking to him. He moves closer to you, making the room feel like it’s shrinking. The city lights reflect in his eyes through the window, twinkling at you. “Say my name again,” he demands but it’s more like a plea. “Tell me what you want me to do, V. You can tell me to stop and I will.” 

You know this is very bad. You know this is wrong. You know that if you do this, you can never go back to the way things were. But you can’t turn back at this point. “Suguru,” you say again, “please. I want this.” You trail your hand up to his chest, feeling his heart pound against your fingertips. “I’ve wanted you for 5 years,” you confess. 

The restraint in Geto’s eyes finally dissipates and he places his hand on top of yours. “Fuck,” he growls. “I’ve wanted this too, V. You have no fuckin’ idea.” He takes both of your hands in his, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “Can I kiss you?” he asks. You damn near choke, feeling like you’re about to faint. 

He scoots closer, close enough to do so himself…but he doesn’t. “I need your words, mama,” he murmurs.

Finally, you find the will to speak: “Yes,” you whimper and it’s enough to make Geto melt. “Kiss me, Suguru.” Immediately, he swoops in and takes you into his arms, holding you against him as he places the hottest, most passionate kiss you’ve ever had on your lips. 

His lips are soft and wet against yours, pulling you in farther and farther. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him flush against you. If this were a romantic comedy, there would be fireworks popping off outside the same way they are in your head. Geto pulls away, softly panting. “Keep talkin’ to me,” he whispers. “Tell me what you want from me.” 

He swoops in to kiss you again, drowning out your soft moans. “Touch me,” you plea into his mouth. “Put your hands on me, Suguru.”

He does just that, his big hands moving down your hips to pull you into his lap. You wrap your arms tight around his neck like a koala bear, latching onto his body. Geto wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves how your soft, pudgy body feels against him and sitting on top of him, your heat radiating from between your thighs against his crotch. Your kisses grow deeper and wetter, your tongues swirling against each other, arousing the both of you.  

“You’re wearing too much,” you whisper, tugging at his collar. He sniggers against your lips, his hands gripping your ass. “So are you,” he chuckles. “But we can help each other with that, can’t we?” Even without the seduction in his gaze, you wouldn’t resist. 

You begin to pop his buttons, yank off his tie, and peel his shirt off while he unzips your dress. You beat him, successfully getting him semi-naked. At the feeling and sight of his toned abs, pecs, and tatted, tanned skin, you damn near get a nosebleed. “Like whatcha see, babydoll?” he purrs. “Because I’m lovin’ what I’m seein’ right now.” 

He coaxes you to stand up in front of him and finally peels off your dress, exposing your lace bra and panties to him. At the sight of you standing between his thighs in only your underwear, stockings, and heels, Geto almost busts a nut. You’re so fucking beautiful, babydoll, shit,” he hisses. 

His hands glide down your sides before pulling you closer. You allow him to do what he wants, loving whatever he does, especially when he latches his lips onto your brown nipples. While he sucks and laps at your nipples, alternating between each, his big hands mold and fondle each juicy breast that his mouth can’t occupy. 

Your sultry, slutty moans are like music to him, way better than the jazz. “Fuck!” you moan. “Suguru…that feels so good!” Your head falls back and your eyes close, the pleasure immense. He’s so, so good with his mouth! You wonder just how good he is eating pussy. 

Geto suddenly looks up at you, his mouth still latched onto your hardened, brown nipple. 

“Lay back on the couch and put your arms over your head,” he orders you. You do so, shivering in delight at him telling you what to do. He then takes his empty champagne glass off of the table and pours himself a glass. 

“Lemme try something,” he pants before slowly pouring some of the champagne over your breasts. You gasp as each cold, little droplet hits your skin, making your nipples even harder. He then swoops down and begins to lap at the champagne, drinking it from between your cleavage and lapping it off your nipples. 

“Mmm,” you softly moan, melting into the couch cushion. You’re so relaxed that you barely notice the ice cube in Geto’s mouth until he’s dragging it over your neck and tits. You gasp, your back arching into his cold lips. 

He smiles, leaning back up with the ice cube in his mouth and giving you an open-mouth kiss. The ice cube falls into your mouth, immediately melting. “That feel good, babydoll?” he chuckles, loving the way your skin jumped at the cold ice cube. 

He continues to suck on your nipples while you grind your hips against his thigh wedged between your thighs. “My, you’re so vocal,” he hums. “Thank God the staff ain’t here or we’d be in big trouble.” He then sits up, straddling you, and slowly takes down his ponytail. Watching his locks of black hair cascade over his shoulders and back is more than you can handle. 

“I need more of you,” he says, sounding hoarse and in need. “Is it okay if I taste you, babydoll? I’ve been dreaming of what you’d feel like against my tongue for so long.” He doesn’t touch you. Not until you say so. Consent being so important to him makes you wetter, your cunt throbbing against his knee. “Yes, sir,” you moan. “Please taste me. I’m yours.” 

He yanks you closer by your legs, making you squeal. “Keep saying that,” he demands. He then hunkers down in between your legs, peppering your jiggly, luscious thighs in kisses. “I’m yours,” you say, a laugh slipping out of you. 

He takes your panties off of you, leaving your heels on. “I’m yours,” you gasp as his lips make contact with your fatter, softer ones down under. His tongue laps and licks at your folds, caressing your clit. He then begins to gently suck on the tiny bud, making your toes curl. “I’m yours, Suguru, fuck!” you moan, your hands lacing in his hair. “Please do that again!” 

Geto smirks against your pussy. “What?” he chuckles. “You mean this?” He does the same move again, this time swirling his tongue around your clit.

The pleasure is overwhelming, making your mind blank and emitting the sluttiest sounds out of you. “Shit, Sugu, yes, fuck!” you pant. “You’re s-so…oooo, fuck, baby, right there!” 

Geto continues to feast on your pussy, eating it up like it’s his last meal for a while. “Goddamn, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he groans against your slit, his tongue sliding down to your asscrack before sliding back up. “I like seein’ you like this. Keep makin’ more of those sounds for me, babydoll. That’s an order.” 

You can’t help it, so you do it, making as many moans, whines, and grunts as he wants. With the way he works his mouth against your pussy, it’s impossible to not. But when his hands move up to tweak and pinch your nipples, you almost explode.

“Yes, like that!” you whine. “I love that so much! Keep goin’, sir, please, sh-sh-shit!” You begin to grind your clit against his nose while his tongue explores your insides, his hot, wet mouth and cushiony lips too much to bear. You can’t take much more of this! “Shit, Suguru!” you moan. “Fuck, sir, I’m gonna cum!” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Geto hums, slipping his tongue out of you. He begins to suck on your throbbing clit again, making you see heaven. “Say the magic word,” he coos against your clit. Your hands grip his hair as your back arches into his ministrations, needing more. “Please, sir!” you whine. “Please, please let me cum! I need it, please!” 

His chocolate eyes peer up at you through the V of your thighs, demanding you to give him what he wants. “Give it to me, babydoll,” he orders. “Cum all over me. Fuckin’ do it.” As his voice drops several octaves, you feel shivers travel up and down your spine. Your core begins to tighten more and more as you grind against his magical mouth over and over again. 

When you cum, you cum hard. You’ve never had such an intense orgasm before. It tears through you, making you nearly arch off of the bed as you explode in Geto’s mouth. Moans and cries of pleasure leave your lips, tingles of ecstasy coursing through you. The man between your legs hungrily laps at your pussy, slurping up all of the cream that you give him. 

Finally, after several seconds, you come down from your high, aching in the best way possible. Geto pulls away with a sigh, his lips dripping with you. “You’re way better than the champagne,” he chuckles, licking your juices off of his lips. “Now I need more.” 

He seems to shift into a whole other person the more you look at him. His eyes darken and his hands massage your thighs a lot more as if he can’t get enough of them. “I’m sorry, babydoll, but you seem to have made me into a fiend,” he growls. “If you don’t want this, tell me now before I bust a hole through these pants.” 

He grips his hard-on pushing into his slacks and your eyes have never stretched so wide before. 

“B-But what about–” 

“You don’t need to take care of me,” he interrupts. “What you can do is lay back and let me fuck you like I need to.” He gazes down at you, molten lust evident in his eyes. “Will you let me, V?” he asks. “Is that okay with you?” 

Is that okay with you? Your pussy is dripping at the mention of finally getting what she and you both want. Finally!

Instinctively, you open your legs for him, exposing your soaked pussy to his naked eyes only. “Fuck me, sir,” you purr. “I want you so bad. Please, just fuck me now.”

Geto doesn’t need to be told twice. After planting another rough, wet kiss on your lips, he unzips his pants and shrugs his boxers down to his waist. 

Like a Jack-in-the-Box, his cock springs up, fat, long, and throbbing. You practically salivate at the sight of it. Smirkingly, Geto wraps a hand around himself and slowly slides himself home inside the wet, spongy walls of your pretty cunt, emitting a gasp from the both of you.

He looks down at you expectantly, waiting for you to give him the go to move. Once you have adjusted to his size and girth, you put your hands on his shoulders and nod, giving him a reassuring smile. 

He settles on top of you, keeping his arms on either side of you to hold himself up, and slowly begins to rock his hips. As soon as he begins to sheathe his cock in and out of you, you feel the pleasure you felt before return but it’s increased by 100. You are overwhelmed with ecstasy every time Geto pumps his cock inside of you and his pelvis rubs against your clit, unable to hold back the slutty sounds dripping from your open mouth. 

Geto smiles down at you, loving how adorable you look underneath him as you take his cock. He holds himself up with one hand to hold one of your juicy tits in his hand, loving how it jiggles as he fucks himself down into you. “So needy for me,” he sighs. “So fuckin’ cute.” His hips piston into yours just right, nailing that spot again and again as he fucks you into the couch. 

“Fuck, Sugu!” you cry, gripping his broad shoulders. “Please go faster! Fuck me faster, sir!” His handsome face flushed and black strands of hair falling in his face, Geto gives you what he wants. He sits up and grips your fleshy thighs before pumping his cock deeper and faster into you, causing the sounds of your moans to grow louder. 

If anyone were to be outside of the office right now, they would immediately know what’s going down in Mr. Geto Suguru’s office. The sound of sex–grunts, moans, whimpers, couch springs bouncing, skin slapping against skin–is way too obvious to pass it off as something else. The idea of that makes you wetter and tighter around Geto’s cock. It makes him damn near insane. 

Unable to control himself any longer, his big hands move under your ass to pull you to him. 

He then sits up with you and slowly stands, lifting you up with him. You gasp, gripping onto him tight like a cobra, and he chuckles. “I’ve got you, honey. Don’t worry, just hold onto me.” You do so as he walks over to his office window, the glittering lights of the city gleaming back at you. He slowly puts you down and wordlessly stares at you, his gaze dark and oh-so seductive. 

You don’t have to ask what he wants. Immediately, you turn around and place your hands on the cold glass of the window, sticking your ass out for him. “Damn, I didn’t even have to tell you to assume the position,” he chuckles. “I guess you’re feenin’ too.” His hand caresses your asscheeks, his thick fingers massaging them. 

You look down at the streets below, seeing people walking their dogs and having a night out on the town. You’ve never done anything like this before, but the idea of having sex in front of a window where anyone could look up and see you makes you wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. And nobody would ever know that it’s your boss giving you such good dick.

Your coherent thoughts are pushed to the back when Geto slaps his cock up against your asscheeks and then sinks himself back into your pussy. “Shit, baby!” he hisses, immediately going back to railing you. “You’re tighter than before.” 

You whine in response as he grips your hips, pumping himself into you like you’re no more than a toy. A fleshlight. His personal sex object. It’s so dirty. So wrong.

And yet it feels so, so good. You can’t deny how much you enjoy his thick cock stretching you out and sending sparks of pleasure throughout your brain. How much you love the sweet ache in your knees and your body. How much you love the way he makes your tits and ass jiggle as he fucks you.

Speaking of ass, Geto is a fiend for it, staring at the way it shakes and jiggles as he fucks your pussy. “I need to see this ass bounce for me,” he shudderingly groans, giving your ass a harsh smack. You gasp at the sting, the nasty act of it making your pussy throb around him. 

“Do that again!” you whine and he does, the pain mixing with the pleasure as he sinks his cock back into you again and again, going deeper and deeper each time. You have to brace yourself against the window the more he pounds into you, going so fast that he could damn well put a pornstar to shame with his stamina. “Fuck, Sugu, yes!” you sob. “Y-Yeah, just like that, fuck me just like that!” 

“Fuck me back, babydoll,” he demands. “Work for that cum, c’mon. Be a good secretary for me.” You do so, pressing into your heels and tossing your ass back into him. “God, that’s it!” he moans, giving you another spank as a reward. “I’ve always dreamed of fucking you like this. Always wanted to see you like this.” 

You want to tell him the same, but your tongue is tied, the pleasure making you crazy as you begin to frantically rub your clit. You can quickly feel that knot in your stomach about to snap the more he fucks you. You feel him press himself against you, pushing you into the window. You gasp as the cold glass touches your bare, brown tits pushed against the window while Geto’s big, rock-hard body pushes against your back. 

“You wanna cum with me, babydoll?” he pants into your ear. “Tell me. Tell me you wanna cum with me.”

You can feel the wetness begin to drip down your thighs and stain his balls, no doubt getting on the floor. “Tell me you want me to give you my cum,” he growls. “Say it. Tell me where the fuck you want it.” 

Somehow, you find the words to speak and scream out, “Yes! Yes, sir, I want your cum! Do it on me, please! I don’t care where! Just please, please cum with me!”

That just about makes Geto snap. He turns your face and tongue kisses you, his lips and mouth tasting like a night of champagne. You don’t speak as he continues to rail you, chasing his orgasm at full speed and taking you along for the ride.

When you both finally cum, you do so together. He manages to pull out of you quickly and pumps his cum all over your plump, soft, perfect ass while you do so onto his hand, his fingers replacing yours. 

Swears, sobs, and moans leave your lips as you’re finally released like a genie in a bottle, your orgasm hitting you dead on. It drains all of the energy out of you, making your knees buckle and your body feel weak.

“I’ve got you,” Geto softly says, hugging you to him from the back. “Just melt into me, mama. It’s okay.” 

Deliriously and happily, you smile, doing as he says. You loop an arm around his head, bringing him closer to you. You don’t ever want to leave his arms. You want to stay like this forever, pressed against him in his office, while the rest of the world turns and moves outside. At some point, you both sink onto the floor and just stay there for a while, silence descending onto you. 

Once the pleasurable fog of your orgasm fades, the concrete realization hits you like a truck: you just had sex with your boss. Geto seems to know what you’re thinking though and turns your face towards his. “Tell me how you feel,” he tells you, his eyes firm but soft. “Listen, I don’t want you to regret what we did, Y/N, ‘cause I don’t. This was real for me.” 

He bites on his bottom lip, looking flushed and nervous. You’ve never seen him look like that before. “I know this was a lot, but if you want, I’d like to turn this into something more. But it’s all up to you.” You blink at him, wondering if he’s serious. He continues to hold that firm yet nervous look, his eyes hopeful. 

After sex like that, you’d be crazy to say no! You place a hand on his cheek and move in to kiss him softly. He accepts the kiss, his lips dancing with yours before you pull away. “I’m ready to try if you are, sir,” you softly answer. “But dinner would be nice.”

Geto begins to laugh and kisses your hand. “Of course,” he chuckles, sounding relieved. “You like Italian? Or maybe ramen? I know this place that just opened that–” 

Knock, knock, knock! Quickly, Geto places himself in front of you, blocking you from whoever is at his office door. Fear jumps inside of you, making your stomach churn. “I thought you said nobody was here!” you hiss. 

“There isn’t,” he whispers. “Or there wasn’t supposed to be.” He clears his throat, giving a clear, short, “Yes?” 

“Brooo, it’s me!” Gojo shouts through the door. “I think I dropped my wallet in here! Can ya let me in?” Geto turns to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What do you think, babydoll?” he asks. “Should we let my friend in?” 

You don’t know why you say yes or why your pussy throbs despite having just orgasmed twice, but Geto gives Gojo the okay and he comes waltzing into the office. At the sight of his best friend and his personal secretary sitting naked on the floor in their afterglow, Gojo’s blue eyes widen in shock… 

And then they grow hooded with lust. “Well, well,” he chuckles. “It’s about fuckin’ time.”

He begins to loosen his tie, giving you a flirty smile. “I hope it ain’t too much to ask if I can join, babe.” 

THE END. 

Fan Art by @almaadst

#commission fill #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #my fic shit #black writers #jjk smut #geto smut #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru #suguru aka sugar #suguru geto x plus sized!reader #boss/employee relationship #office romance

[bas-writes]

your blind date is waiting for you...

A suitor is awaiting for @zimzalabimmmmm who as their dream date wanted to visit an interactive. I hope you will spend lovely time together!

gender neutral reader | ~900 words | modern AU

The opening of the new science museum attracted a crowd far bigger than you expected. You thought you were ready, but the sight of the queue wrapped all around the building exceeded the most graphic of your worries. Well, it was pronounced the biggest event your city prepared for this year, the museum alone was under construction for the past few years and the media widely acclaimed it as the most modern one in the country, if not straight up one of the most modern in the whole world.

The atmosphere of excitement was thick and attracted thousands, now patiently waiting in the queue and waiting for the holy throughput to grace them with entrance.

Sabo hasn't lost even an ounce of his enthusiasm, not at the sight of the wild crowds, not through the three hours that took you two to finally enter the exhibition. From the very beginning he seemed to be even more pumped about the whole trip than you-and it was your idea in the first place. You haven't pegged him as someone who's interested in natural science, with his great passion for political science and phd in law studies in works, but at this point of your promisingly blooming relationship nothing about him can truly surprise you, not anymore. Through those few months since you ran into each other in a library, he showed you so many faces that you already forgot what was the first impression you got about him.

It's hard to maneuver in a crowd like this but Sabo, with the impact of his almost 190cm, finds a way to plough through it, to wherever you point. He's holding your hand-well, rather wrapping fingers around your wrist-and playing the foreguard against the mass of people relentlessly pushing on the two of you. His smile and excited gleam in his eyes don't fade even for a second. In that matter, he's like the children frolicking around and exploring the possibilities of interactive exhibition to their fullest, no matter the inconveniences and despite their parents' exhaustion.

With your golden retriever date by your side, you're understanding the patient pain of crowd-fatigued adults.

You still have a lot of your own enthusiasm, though, so you let Sabo pull you around, from one screen to another, under the streams of LED, between the machines (and you both have to play with every single one of them), through the smoke, the music and optic illusions and holograms. He stops for a sip of water, for a sneaky photo of you as you're engrossed by yet another wonder of the museum, to brush invisible dust from your cheek and to fix your hair. Your heart gets lost in its beat whenever he nears close but doesn't quite skip it as he's already pulling you further, for more, no crumb of patience nor sense of rest left in this man.

Fate (signed with your own words) wanted it to be your first romantic date and the deeper dive you take into it, the less it has in common with anything that could count as romance. Thoughts you planned to reveal, emotions you wanted to offer together with your heart right on a silver plate, get swallowed by the ecstatic commotion and pushed tight to the back of your mind. Sabo is as playful and affectionate as always but his intentions, despite all those sweet gestures and stolen seconds, blur as well. Whatever has already been born between the two of you has been corrupted by the museum, no place nor time to salvage the tension that has built during the hours of waiting, filled with playful banter and shameless flirting.

Or so you think until the route leads you towards the last big exhibition, the biggest in the whole museum. It's spacious and dark, no light with exception of holographic models of constellations over your heads. The atmosphere enforces calm and silence, even the excited chirping of children shimmers down to a whisper. For the first time for what seems to be an eternity you can catch a full breath-and you sigh audibly, suddenly feeling the weight of hours of light and noise.

A hand still wrapped around your wrist pulls you for the last time, towards a cozy nook between a pillar and wall, where the sights and experience diverge from the standard at the middle of the room-but there's no one to bump into you two and disturb the much needed rest.

You want to lean against the wall but your back meets Sabo's chest instead. You feel the vibration of his soft chuckle, then his arms wrap around and squeeze you tight, with support and voracity. A bold move for the first proper date-but it suits him and the atmosphere, so you just let yourself soak in it. It's too comfy to think of an alternative-and you're too tired to banter for freedom anyway.

"You fit here so well," from so close, words spoken right into your ear, Sabo's voice is much softer and smoother. His warm and moist breath makes every little hair on the back of your neck stand with anticipation-and your own breath stutters under the rapid change of your heart's rhythm. "Are you okay? You're running so hot."

You can't find an answer that would satisfy you-but even if you had it, Sabo wouldn't let you speak.

In the thick, pleasantly tense silence, under the holographic stars, his hand wanders to your chin and cups your chin, his thumb affectionately brushing your lips before he catches them with a sweet but breathtaking kiss.

#sabo x reader #sabo x y/n #sabo x you #sabo imagine #op x reader #op x you #op x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #bas writes #op #sabo #blind dates #gender neutral reader

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

47 with Javi P! I love this game, this is so fun!!

47: Up to no Good The Hoosiers Javier Peña Christmas Party Sex

Driving you crazy how Fingers on lips, allow his hands to your hips You know you shouldn't do this

Warnings: unprotected PiV (wrap it up and/or take your BC seriously folks), established relationship, semi-public sex, getting caught, PWP, dirty talk, Javi's mouth, bathroom sex, Christmas???. Let me know if I missed anything.

MDNI this is an 18+ post and an 18+ blog. Un-beta'd drabble/ficlet for my ask game here.

900~ words

“Javi, stop, we could get caught.”

Your voice is breathy and weak, and even you don’t believe the protest spilling from your lips. You groan as your back hits the bathroom door. Javi’s hands are already fumbling with the hem of your dress and you hiss as he nips the shell of your ear.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you hermosa?” Javi sneers as he soothes the mark over with his tongue, “Love the idea of getting caught with my cock buried deep inside your needy little cunt?”

His fingers rip your panties to the side, hard enough you hear the fabric strain but not enough to ruin them. You unconsciously spread your legs wider as he frees his cock from his pants.

“Javi,” you pant as he lines himself up at your core, his broad tip already notched at your desperate hole. Whatever you were going to say is lost as he drives into you, filling you up so quickly you yelp. A rough, calloused hand clamps over your lips as he growls into your ear.

“Shh, there you go,” he whispers, nipping at your jaw as he bottoms out, “You can take it baby, I know you can.”

And you can.

Javi knows your body so well, knows exactly how to get you so riled up you’re begging for him to ruin you.

Tonight is no exception, your parents’ Christmas party is in full swing. Cousins, family friends, even Chucho all gathered to celebrate the beginning of the holiday season together. It’s your first Christmas as a family and you’d dressed to impress.

It took Javi less than an hour to give in to the need to fuck you. A new record.

“Gonna need you to touch yourself baby, we’re on the clock,” Javi hisses through clenched teeth as he fucks up into you. The doorhandle jostles, the sound impossibly loud in the small space. You’re supposed to be being quiet.

You drop one hand down, fumbling to get it under the hem of your dress as you feel Javi rock his thick cock almost all the way out of you before driving up into your sloppy, wet cunt. You press hard on your clit as Javi captures your lips with his own. Both his hands now digging into your hips so hard you’ll be feeling it for days.

He licks hungrily into your mouth as he hits that sweet spot deep in your cunt. Your fingers swirl in practiced motions over your clit as his pace picks up. The door jostles loudly in your ears as he fucks you so hard you see stars.

You’re sure you’re being too loud but you don’t care as the pleasure wraps around your spine in tight coils you know you won’t last much longer. Javi’s moustache drags against your swollen lips as he breaks the kiss. His chocolate brown eyes wide, blown-out with lust as his thrusts stutter and falter.

“Javi, gonna-!” your sentence is cut short as white-hot pleasure bursts from the base of your spine. Your cunt clenches around him hard as your vision blurs, your mouth falls slack as your cries are lost in the back of your throat.

Javi groans then whines as he fucks up into you twice before you feel him pulse inside you. He pants and wheezes as he rolls his hips slowly to a stop as he drops his head to your shoulder, mouthing against your collarbone as he catches his breath.

A knock on the door startles you both, Javi almost slips out of you as you both flinch.

“Some of us need to use the bathroom for its intended purpose,” Chucho’s voice filters through the door and you don’t think you have any blood left in your toes as heat floods your cheeks. Javi’s head snaps back, eyes wide, filled with mortification.

“Alright pop, be out in a minute,” Javi’s voice wavers as he pulls out of you, guiding you straight to the toilet as he stuffs himself back into his dress pants. You chuckle despite yourself as you force yourself to pee.

“I’ll take a lap, see you both back out there,” Chucho’s tone is laced with amusement as he speaks. You hear his heavy footsteps retreat back into the party and Javi gives you a lopsided grin, apology written all over his face.

“You’re a bad man Javier Peña,” you say in a hushed whisper as you get up, you manoeuvre around him to adjust your look in the mirror.

“True, but you’re not exactly a saint either hermosa,” he mumbles against the skin of your neck as he looks at you over your shoulder, the picture of boyish mischief in the mirror.

“Would you have it any other way?”

“Never.”

You turn on the spot and pull him in for a long, lazy kiss, dragging your lips over his in something less frenetic than before.

“Come on hermosa, poor Chucho’s prostate can’t wait much longer.”

Javi wiggles his eyebrows at you as your own scrunch up at the thought.

“After you, cowboy,” you purr as you turn him on the spot, opening the door and slapping his ass as he steps out into the hall.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #fanfic #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #javi p #narcos fic #javier pena #javi pena #javier peña imagine #<1k #1000 words #ficlet #drabble

[theunaestheticstudyblr]

Let's talk reading for a minute. It's a big thing in academic communities and there's a sense that if you don't read x amount of books a year then you're not truly academic or proactive whatnot and that's simply not true.

I know some people who don't read books at all but they read scientific papers daily. I know some people who only do audio books and never read. I know some people who just hate reading and watch documentaries and short films and stuff like that. And I know people who claim to love reading but only know the spark notes (is this still a thing btw?) of all the books they claimed to have read.

Don't beat yourself up over reading. This year I finished over 20 stories. Some were books. Some were audio books. Some were poetry collections. And next year I know I am not going to get anywhere close to that. I think I'll get 3 or 4. Mostly because one of the books I plan on reading is 900 pages and I'm a slow reader. And that's ok! I don't have to read every book. I don't have to read the books everyone is reading. I don't have to finish a 300 page book in a night.

Reading isn't a competition or a measure of much at all. I'm educated, smart, and literate. My dad is a published author and poet. I've been reading since I was 4. I've written research papers. I enjoy reading when I can. And for the longest time I believed that how much I can read is a mark on me of something. The more I read, the better I am. We all hear that statistic that the super successful people read like 60 books a year or something around that.

And what I realized is that those people have time to sit and read. I do not. Working full time, going to classes, having a daily commute of over 2 hours, having a place to keep clean, cooking, going to the gym at least once a week, studying, being social, and playing my video games every now and then take up a lot of my time. I don't have the luxury to be able to read for hours a day every day. And that's ok!

So please don't turn reading into a chore. Reading is to be enjoyed, not to prove anything. It isn't a mark about much at all. You're not going to suddenly become this amazing, super successful genius because you read 100 books in a year. Read because you want to and you enjoy it. Life should be spent on enjoyment and being a good person, not on crunching numbers.

I'm not dissing on anyone either. People who can read 100 books a year. Or even 20. Those people impress me. People who can read 1000 pages a week. That's insane to me. I would watch my mom read those thick Stephen King novels in like 2 days as a kid. (That was her only hobby really. All she did was work, clean, and read. So she would sit for hours every day and read). My cousin can read 500 pages in a night. Yall who can do that amaze me so much.

#study blog #student #student life #studyblr #productivity #school #study hard #studying #school advice #books and reading #reading #booklr #book #books #bookblr

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Dream of Modron

(Eris x mysterious female)

Word count: ±900

Warnings: none I think

This short Eris' drabble was inspired by @erisweek2023 prompt "Dance"

I'm very sorry for my English 🫣

This week was really busy, so I hardly managed to write this. Hopefully you'll like it despite of all the mistakes I've made.

And the hardest part of the story? The speech! I'm the last person who'd ever give any speech and it seems it's impossible for me to write one too.

Eris decided to check on preparations for upcoming Autumnal equinox's celebration. He worked on it for the past two months and now there was only 1 hour left before it starts. As he walked around the clearing where it'll be held he inspected five tall piles of dry wood prepared for bonfires.

After that he moved to the tables. Servants assured him that the tables with food and snacks made of apples, pumpkins, chestnuts and other autumn fruits and veggies, would be ready on time as the last plates and trays should arrive any minute.

Before returning to the palace to get ready himself, he also checked the decoration, podium from where he'll speak and even the stage for musicians. All seemed to be ready.

Satisfied he returned to his room to take a shower and change to already prepared clothes. Last look in the mirror and he moved to the table to go through his speech quickly one more time. As the time came closer he could hear cheerful voices from outside. The crowd started to gather. It's time.

Approaching his podium he could see people gathered around, waiting for him to start the celebration. Making sure his mask of a fearless high lord is on its place, he took his place on the podium. There was a buzz in the crowd as all eyes turned to him. Calmly Eris surveyed people in front of him. He waited until everybody was quiet. Then he cleared his throat and started.

„Welcome to the annual Autumnal equinox's festival! Last year was really hard on us. War took too many lives and we also lost our high lord, my father. But we made it. We survived. Thanks to you all our country is safe once again," he paused to look to everyone in the eye.

„Despite of everything, nature was generous to us this year too and gifted us a lot of food, fruits and vegetables," he gestured towards the full tables set up along the edges of the clearing.

„Usually we celebrate Autumn equinox to give our thanks to the nature, but this year is little bit different. Let's take advantage of this feast and celebrate our victory and life itself as well. Let the party begin!“

With last words he left his powers rumble around, setting the bonfires on fire. Crowd cheered loudly. Then priestesses on the other side of clearing took over the attention and performed their usual rituals and offerings. When spiritual part ended, musicians took up their instruments and crowd split into dancers and onlookers.

A satisfied grin settled on Eris's face as he took in the scene in front of him from his small podium. Everything went smoothly, exactly as he planned it.  Unfortunately he couldn't stay longer and enjoy the results of his hard work. There were some high lord's matters that needed his attention. He waited until he was sure people were enough distracted. But when he was about to sneak out, he noticed a girl dancing around one of the bonfires. In the moment he forgot everything else.

It wasn't her look that caught his eye even though it wasn't bad too. She had big green eyes, waist-length auburn hair, quite lovely face with few freckles on her small nose and cheeks. She was rather smaller with slim and graceful curves.

It was her dance that impressed him. Her movements were precise, confident, elegant and as wild as the flames behind her. She radiated  tremendous energy that attracted him. It reminded him of Nesta's dance just with one difference. This girl was way better. If Nesta was a queen of dance, this girl was goddess.

Before he knew, he was already strolling through the crowd, every step bringing him closer to her. He stopped few meters from her with arms crossed on chest, openly gazing at her with smirk plastered on his face. The smirk that she shamelessly reciprocated. It seemed as if she was dancing just for him making eyes on him every time she turned his way.

Biting down his lower lip he watched her for few minutes enjoying the view before joining her. She eagerly accepted his hand and together they swirled around the bonfire in a wild vortex of dance. Fire filled his veins fuelled by the warmth and flexibility of the flesh under his fingers. A wild grin spread across his face. They hadn't spoken a single word, but neither of them minded.

Eris lost track of the time and his surroundings. At that moment there was only her, the music and the fire for him. He didn't feel tiredness nor thirst or hunger. His body was drawn to hers, his lips only few centimetres from hers. Suddenly she stopped. Eris blinked and looked around.

The night turned into dawn, everybody had already left. Looking at the empty stage where musicians stood before, it was clear that the music must have stopped playing a long time ago. Only embers remained of great bonfires.

Surprised he turned back to the girl, but she was gone too. He looked around in confusion. Except of him there were only wisps of early morning mist rolling across the clearing.

He sighed. He didn't even have a chance to ask her name. Tired he returned back to the palace and crawled into the bed.

#erisweek2023 #high lord eris #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris fic #autumn court #autumn #autumn equinox #bonfire #modron #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #dance #sjm #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm fanfic #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra fic #eris x oc #eris x you #eris vanserra x you

[lyxanislive]

Do you have any Shallura family headcanons? Also what are your thoughts on Shiro's family? Or lack thereof. Besides Keith ofc

Why Did this take a year to answer?

I didn't have any head canons. So I had to come up with some. Then those sucked and I changed them. 

So here we go!!!!!

Allura and Shiro don't think they can get pregnant. The whole 10000 year sleep and clone thing not withstanding, some species just don't breed well like Galra and well … anything

They play fast and loose and neither suspect anything until one day Allura gets a weird version of slipperies. Shiro freaks out and goes to Coran who is the first to guess she's pregnant as this is a symptom is pregnant Alteans

After a bunch of tests they find out she is indeed pregnant. Shiro is delighted, Allura is terrified

Because there are no studies for Altean/Human hybrids, Doctors tell Allura she is a high risk pregnancy and want her to take extra precautions 

This makes both Shiro and Coran *and by extension everyone else) treat her like glass that is on a wobbling table and she HATES it

The only person to not treat Allura like a fragile delicate flower is Keith. He becomes her confidante and when she wants everyone to get off her back she goes to hang out with Keith for “massages” or “pedicures” anything to make Shiro think they're not sparing or racing around the desert

Allura has every morning sickness symptom known to humans and Alteans. She hates it.

Hunk meal preps with Shiro every Sunday afternoon and continues to do so for like 6 months after.

Pidge hooks up like 900 baby monitors, even ones that can alert Coran

Lance helps with the nursery and tips for new baby

Matt breaks his finger helping Shiro set up a crib one afternoon

Keith is named the Altean version of God Father for the baby. He cries about it - he continues to keep Alluras secret about rough housing but he eventually stops being her go to trouble maker around month 6 as she is visibly pregnant and doesn't fit on his hover bike well

Romelle learns to knit just for the baby. She is awful at it but puts her whole heart into it. She makes a blanket, booties, hats and ear warmers for the baby

There's not even a discussion when they find out the baby is a boy. Alfor Harmonious Shirogane is just agreed on instantly

Alteans have a gestation period of 6 months. Alfor takes 8 months and Allura is VERY CRANKY and VERY PREGNANT 

Labour is also awful for Allura - 38 hours under several doctors care but when he is finally born Allura is instantly normal as if she didn't just give birth

Alfor has very faint purple altean marks, they sometimes look like bruises. His ears are not fully rounded but nowhere near a full altean length. They do not fit into the pointed ear hats Romelle made. She makes new ones

Everyone cries when they meet Alfor for the first time. Especially Alfor.

Allura goes back to coalition work immediately and Shiro becomes a stay at home dad and he takes to it so well. He's Mr. Mom and even other mothers are impressed how he can get Alfor on a schedule, clean the whole home. He also works out with baby Alfor all the time.

Allura hates she cannot reason with a baby and though she's not a bad mom by any means, she's takes longer to settle into the role than Shiro. Alfor is a bit of a mammas Boy though since he cant see Allura all day he gravitates to her when she is home.

When Alfor is 3 Shiro starts making goo goo eyes about another baby but Allura had an AWFUL time with Alfor thar they start to explore other options

They eventually decide to have at least one more half altean child, and to save Allura the grief and morning sickness and hours of labor they test tube a baby and get a wearable tank for it. Think death stranding but without Norman Reedus. 

For altean fetuses quintessence is vital so Allura has to wake up every 2 hours and transfer quintessence to the baby (because Allura is a litteral God of Alchemy she easily over does it and little does she know is making the 2nd most powerful alchemist in history)

This baby is a girl and Allura wants Shiro to pick the name. He panics and starts naming Anime characters until he falls on Temari and it's very close to an altean name so it gets chosen

Pidge and Lance DO NOT let Shiro forget they KNOW he watches Naruto. They nick name the baby “fighting dreamer” which Allura just thinks is cute but makes Shiro full body cringe when he hears it

Temari Dawn Shirogane is finally ‘hatched’ and by all accounts is healthy. She has bright pink Altean marks and pointed ears and Allura will never say out loud but she is thrilled

Temari walks and speaks late, not because she's incapable but because her brother does EVERYTHING for her. She points and Alfor does. He even speaks for her by understanding her non verbal ques

The siblings are pretty much inseparable but they do fight, despite being younger Temari usually wins because she can shape shift really early on

They are a happy little family with Allura doing coalition work, Shiro being a stay at home dad, and two adorable half Altean babies that are doted on by all the Paladins, Coran and Romelle.

When Alfor is 7 and Temari is 3 Shiro asks Allura if they can adopt someone like they had originally planned to do before the surprise pregnancy. Allura agrees and they set ground rules: under 10 years old, no Galra, has to get along with the kids

They set up “play dates” at Diffrent orphanages because they need to make sure Alfor and Temari are okay with their new sibling. These go okay but they never quite find the last piece to their family

For two weeks Allura is away on a diplomatic mission, and Shiro brings the kids out to visit her and they decide to go to the local orphanage in this star system just to see

While At the orphanage Temari wanders off and sits with a half galra boy just trying to read on his own in the corner. She's still babied by Alfor so she doesn't talk. This kid is annoyed by her at first but eventually gives in and starts reading to her. When she wants to get up she grabs his hand and leads him around and the kid begrudgingly Follows.

He's A 12 year old half galra named Vexel and he reminds Shiro so much of Keith that Shiro's Almost foaming at the mouth to adopt this kid. Allura is unsure.

Later in her stay Allura goes to the orphanage alone to meet Vexel. He's quite - kinda moody - but really smart. Allura asks him if he wants To be adopted and he says “I won't be but thats okay as long as the other kids get good homes.” And this breaks Alluras heart and she calls Shiro right there.

After discussions with Alfor and Temari they foster Vexel, until legally adopting him once he's comfortable.

Alfor Loves his brother but still claims he's the oldest. Vexel and Alfor get along great and Temari is still babied by both of them

Allura winds up taking Vexel on trips a lot to let him explore places and he becomes more of a mammas boy as well

Temari is 100% a daddys girl… and a little princess to her big brothers

Alfors favorite uncle is Lance because he's funny. Temaris is Hunk because he always sneaks her treats. And Vex likes both Keith and Pidge but for different reasons (keith is half galra and drives fast while Pidge is the smartest)

ALL GROWN UP

 Alfor grows up to be an artist. Something neither Shiro or Allura prepared for but the kid has incredible talent so he is sent to great art schools and Allura often gifts one of his many works to any diplomatic place she opens. Shiro still has a lot of his art from when he was a child. Alfor eventually opens up the “Takashi Art Gallery” on earth, the place he feels most at home. He never learned to pilot properly, Shiro blames his skills on his mother.

Temari is a gifted alchemist and winds up studying and learning with other Alteans. She is exceptional at construction Alchemy like her grandfather and has built many ships with her aunt Pidge. She is the first to find the restored “Oriande” after it was thought destroyed by Haggar. Temari is always a daddys girl and Is the best pilot of the siblings. 

Vexel is a Doctor who Specializes in mixed species. He himself Is half galra and growing up with half Altean siblings he has learned a lot. He is the head Doctor at a cross species clinic. As a teen he writes and publishes a paper on his siblings puberty which wins him accolades and a full ride scolarship which MORTIFIES Temari.

Fun things

Morning people: Shiro and Alfor

NOT morning people: Allura, Temari, Vexel

Has crashed a ship: everyone but Shiro

Most Swears: Alfor

Pickiest eater: Temari

Most spoiled: Vexel

Worst jokes: Shiro

Best at sports: Allura

#shallura #shiro x allura #shiro and allura

[trashyreptilian]

Lure In The Predator, October 19th-20th 1992 (Part 2)

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

Previous Parts:

Lure In the Predator, October 18th 1992 (Part 1)

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Characters: The Preacher "Ora" (she/it), "C"/Alt!Cesar (it/its), "Mark Heathcliff" (he/him), "Cesar Torres" (he/him) and "Him" (he/it)

Summary: Six had tasked Preacher with finding out where the supposed "friendly" alternate resides in. To help, Alt!Cesar is assigned with her. They start from where the impersonator's assault took place and go from there, hoping it'll lead them to their main target. (Word count: ~7 900)

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

Howling winds rustled many autumn leaves, which covered most of the ground. Providing crunching noises as Ora steadily walked forward. Right behind her, the armless alternate was far less discreet with its footsteps. The tranquil woods were engulfed in a veil of poltergeist-white mist. Nothing was spared, shavings of it snagged every shrub and tree without mercy. It appeared filmy in the weak light of sunset. A good thing for the alternates. They were walking in the woods as daylight faded, so the extra camouflage provided was in their favor. Preacher wasn't too laid-back still, she kept her guard up and made sure no humans would spot them accidentally. So far only the occasional flock of birds passing by or a rodent suddenly running past them were to even notice they were there.

She chose to stay quiet. Preferring to focus on her task rather than engaging in conversation. The alternates followed a somewhat scented path. More precisely, the faint scent of alternate blood. The same of which had been left by the impersonator accompanying her. Faded traces of the black substance would emerge within their path, on the ground and on tree bark. That was their one means of knowing if they headed in the right direction. Even then, the blood had dried up overtime, becoming harder to spot. The Preacher relied on the smell mostly. Unfortunately, her concentration was sometimes interrupted by the other alternate. It got easily distracted by nature's surroundings, choosing to run after any small creature that so happened to pass by. She'd have to yell at it to stay beside her. While annoying, it wasn't anything new she experienced. It was young, at least she thought it was from the way it behaved. She had seen much younger alternates become enthralled by other living mammals that weren't humans. The onset of curiosity in early life was fairly common within their kind. She had it once too in the past, but it quickly fades away without ever realizing.

Not so long after an hour or two of walking, something caught Ora's attention. She noticed some interesting claw marks on one of the trees. Approaching closer to inspect it, her hand brushed against the marks. The bark was shredded, revealing the inside wood. The depth of the cuts wasn't anything impressive, however, the length was unusual. The lines nearly made perfect circles around the tree. No large enough mammal could have left those in. None in the woods that they were passing through.

"Hey…" Preacher turned her elongated neck back, seeing the other alternate hesitantly looking at her. "Come here." Shifting her stare back at the claw marks, it quickly stood next to her. "Look at these cuts… Quite long for any animal to leave them here. You don't suppose they are yours?" She asked in a calm manner.

The impersonator's face got needlessly close up to the marks, it tilted its head left and right. "Hmmmmmmmmmm… Nope. Nu-uh, those aren't mine."

"Obviously, they aren't." She pulled the alternate back by its black hair. "This just means we're probably getting close. Let's keep walking, and STAY close. Please…"

With that, they continued marching forward. She was certain they were near the targeted house. Keeping her sight on any traces of the chase that had occurred to not lose their way. The sky above them began turning into a darker blueish-gray color. Night would set itself in a short moment as the sun laid dormant. Cold breeze blew across the alternates hair and fur, a refreshing sensation against their skin. A few minutes passed before the impersonator unexpectedly ran up next to Preacher, trying to maintain her walking speed. She heard a fake cough from it.

"Uh… You don't think-…" There was a pause. Its voice was a bit shaky. "You don't think it's out here? You know, like… It's still hunting for me…"

Preacher remained on sight for those traces of blood or cuts. Unbothered by the other's paranoia. Letting out a silent groan, she responded. "I doubt it…"

"Yeah?… Hmmmmm…" It feebly whimpered. "How can you be sure, huh?…"

"Listen. If it was here, it would have attacked us by now…" Her voice was calm, a contrast to the other's frantic tone. "Besides, we can always return to Hell at will as well. There's nothing to be paranoid over…"

A brief moment of silence passed before it responded again. "I don't know… It really seemed like it was dead set on killing me… I didn't even do anything wrong to it…"

"True, but that alternate isn't like us… Aaaaaand- To your dismay, it's a wrath alternate too. So you got real unlucky on your first few days of work." She sneakily let out a chuckle. The chances of encountering such a hostile figure on the first days must be near impossible.

"What's the problem with that guy anyway?… You seem to know more about them than me." It asked.

"I don't, actually... Yet, I do highly suggest staying out of its way though. In fact, stay away from ALL wrath alternates, not just that one too."

"Why...?"

That stupid question was enough for Preacher to lose her focus and glare at the impersonator. "Why?" She mockingly repeated. "You're the one without any arms and you're going to ask me WHY?" She glanced back at the path straight ahead of her. "They're all nothing but violent brutes if that wasn't obvious already." Her walking pace grew faster. "A whole bunch of uncooperative savages…" She murmured under her breath.

"Than- Hey!" It shifted its walking pace to hers. "How do I even tell who's a wrath alternate?!"

"Ugh, I'll explain it to you later." Preacher halted it by its shoulder. "We've got more important matters to attend to…" Pointing at a house finally visible in the distance, she let go off its shoulder.

Seemed like it didn't take much to divert the impersonator's attention as it immediately charged forward. Ora did so too. Not out of excitement like it, but to chase after it. Despite her face being mask-like in appearance, her eyes were clearly furrowed. In front of them, the house and woods were divided by a short upward slope. Before the other could run up that slope, she prepared herself for a sprint. Rapidly turning her entire being into black smoke, she slithered straight ahead. It managed to reach the very start of the slope until it abruptly stopped. It stepped back when a black cloud line of smoke altered back into a body. Took but a second for her to grab a hold of its shoulders. Her grip was tight.

"How many TIMES do I have to tell you to stay close?!" She hissed at it. Their faces were a mere inch away from each other. "Remember, we're not here to kill anyone. You got that through your puny little head?" Her eyes squinted.

After it gulped and its frown turned into a nervous smile, it nodded in agreement.

"Okay, good…" Her grip got softer but still held on. "Now, this is what we're going to do. YOU are going to stay here, near the woods. Don't let yourself be seen by any humans. While I go and scan out the house and area. It'll be just a quick in and out."

It tilted its head to the left. "So… You just want me to stay here?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"...You sure?"

"Yes, absolutely." She let go of its shoulders. "You've done your part leading me to this house. Well actually- I did most of the leading here. We wasted the entirety of daytime to even get in the right woods thanks to you… At this point, I'm just babysitting you for Six." Turning her back on it, she walked up the slope. The house, which greeted her gaze, stood high and built in a modern style. Probably intended for more upper class people to live in. What appeared to be the back of the building facing her, none of the windows were lighted and instead plunged in pitch-blackness. Preacher had one last glance at the impersonator before leaving it alone. "You better be down there when I come back! I'm not going to waste my time looking for you if you get lost…" She briefly yelled out.

"Yeah, I hear you! Hurry up, will you? I'm already getting bored standing here…" It answered before dropping itself to the ground, sitting cross-legged.

When a single long sigh escaped Ora's mouth, she was ready to search out the place. Swiftly turning herself into smoke again, she downsized her smoke form to be less visible. The form was more worm-like in appearance with the way she slithered around the house. Turning to her left, none of the windows were illuminated either. Pressing forward, she quickly moved through the blades of grass and met with a pebble covered path. At the front of the house, she stopped on the pathway which lead to the garage. It was left opened with two different cars parked inside. Moving past that sight, she made her way up the front porch. The gap below the door allowed easy entrance for her. Entering the house, the change in temperature caught her off guard. The coolness of outside shifted to sudden warmth. Her attention focused on the faint yellow glow and sounds of chatter coming from the left side of the first floor. Carefully slithering to the spacious living room, the source of it all was revealed. The room combined with the kitchen, was where the glow came from and people sat together at a table. Moving discreetly along the wooden floor, she hid herself in one of the white couches closest to the dining table. The Preacher peaked out while remaining mostly hidden in-between some fluffy pillows.

Three people were seated by a black table. Two middle-aged adults on the left and right while a much younger fellow sat in the middle between them. The one on the left, a tall well-groomed man, spoke about his job and other boring topics. None of it was worth listening to. Ora had her sights on the young one. Analyzing him, from the hair and face to overall appearance. Everything clicked immediately. He was the impersonator's failed victim. First obvious details were the similarities in the haircut and facial hair. The faces were less alike but despite the other's exaggerated features, it was somewhat the same shape. There was no mistaking it. With that in mind, she left the people alone and slithered away from the living room. Although before leaving, she thought of checking every other available room. Just in case, the traitor's human was already there. It didn't take long to scan through the first floor. A swift slide in and out so to speak. She didn't care to gawk at the interior, whether it was a bathroom or closet room, she only cared to see if anyone else was staying in the house. Moving to the second floor, the smoke line slid around faster. The alternate scanned through every room. Bedroom, master bedroom, bathrooms, guest bedroom, storage room and so on. No other living breathing human was found, besides the small family below in the kitchen. That being done, she wasted no time exiting the house.

At last outside, Ora dashed back to where she had left the armless impersonator. Secretly hoping it didn't take off while she was gone for a short period of time. As she descended into the forest by the downward slope, she manifested back into her regular form. Her companion was nowhere to be seen. Looking around from where it had sat down, she clenched her fists. However, just when she was about to yell out for it, she heard footsteps running to her.

"Hey, you're back!" A familiar staticky voice called out.

She turned to the right, quickly greeted by the armless alternate. It looked unusually happy for whatever reason while she simply sighed. "You're lucky I hate to get physical, otherwise I would have beaten you to a bloody pulp right now…"

"Yeah, yeah that's great- Look at what I found instead!" It dismissed the threat completely as though it wasn't even listening. It pointed at her hands with its head.

Utterly confused, the Preacher hesitantly extended out her hands. Only then she noticed that one of the alternate's cheeks looked more puffed up than the other. But before she could ask what it had in its mouth, it spat out the answer for her. A tiny blue and white feathered bird landed on her hands. Her body shivered at the feeling of dark gray spit covering the creature. An awkward silence passed as she stood, unsure what to say. "Uh… I-" She let out a groan. "This is… This is something, alright…"

"I know! Looks cool, right?" It exclaimed while staring at the bird in her hands.

"Sure…" Mildly disgusted, she did a small head shake to concentrate back on what she was about to say. "...Okay, you've successfully sidetracked me for a minute." Kneeling down, she placed the bird on the ground. "Poor thing…" She whispered and got back up. "Let's settle somewhere a bit further from here and I'll tell you what I saw in the house." Grabbing the impersonator by its red bowtie, she led it to a secluded area of the woods with more greenery. The house still discernible in the distance, she stopped dragging the alternate along. "We don't need to be too far away but it's good to stay out of the clear pathway. Sit down…" The Preacher demanded while she made herself comfortable sitting by a tree. She waited for it to do the same, watching as the alternate simply dropped down on the grass with a hard thud. It stared at her wide-eyed, ready to listen.

"…So I found your failed victim, he's with his parents. Sadly, his brown-haired friend wasn't there tonight…"

"Dammit… What do we do then?" It asked.

"We wait. There's not much else we can do besides that. Chances are his friend will show up eventually, and since we both know what he looks like, we can't miss him."

"Aaaaand, how long will we be waiting?…"

"No idea, could take a couple of weeks, might be a few hours. I can't give you an exact answer. I'll have to check the house frequently to see if anyone new shows up."

The impersonator groaned and laid back on the grass. "Argh, it all sounds so boring… At least you get to do something, while I'm stuck waiting in the woods."

Ora arched her neck forward, gazing at it more closely. "It doesn't have to be boring…" She wasn't much for engaging with younger alternates but since she didn't have anything to pass the time either, she could try to entertain it. "...How old are you?"

"I don't know… It's been like, a few days and nights but I wouldn't say I've been alive for long."

"Hmmm…" She gave a quick thought about it. "I'm guessing you've been around for a month, which is usually 30 days and nights."

"Sure, if you say so. I've been alive for a month, probably…" It said in a weak and fed up tone.

"Have you figured out what sin you were created from?"

It instantly shot its head back up, staring at Preacher with an eyebrow raised. "N-no?... I remember being told I was made from one of the sins. But never told how I'm supposed to figure that out..."

"Hah…" Her neck arched back a little, raising her head up more. "It's fairly easy..." Without hesitation, she shoved her hand into her own emotionless vertical mouth. Her fingers reached up inside the head, nothing but thick blood engulfed her skin. The feeling wasn't so pleasant but the process remained completely painless. She searched around until she felt something hard and sharp-pointed. When her fingers grabbed a hold of it, she pulled it out to show. What came out of her mouth was an emerald green crystal, entangled and held back by some thin veins of the same color coming from her mouth. Fairly small in size, it had rough pointed edges all around, making it quite hard to hold. It carried a flickering bright green glow.

The impersonator rose up as soon as the Preacher had begun searching for the crystal. It scooted over to her when the crystal revealed itself with its tantalizing shine. Its eyes were fixated on it. "Whoa, it's shiny…" It muttered. "What is it? Can I touch it? Can I have it?!" Re-positioning itself on its knees, it tried to get closer.

Ora felt as the veins tugged at the crystal, she had to place it back where it belonged. Her companion's elated smile turned into a slight frown once the shine disappeared. After a slight gag, she spoke. "That, was my sin crystal. Or sin stone, whatever you may choose to call it. It doesn't really matter... But what you should know is that little crystal alone can tell so much about an alternate…"

"Soooo- Does that mean I have one like yours too?" It asked with a smirk.

"Yes, but it could be a different color. For you see, I'm created from the base sin of envy. All envy alternates will have the same kind of colored crystal such as mine. There are seven different sins as far as I'm aware."

"Neat…" It whispered in a gleeful voice. Shifting its gaze onto its developing upper arms, it desperately thrashed them around up to its mouth. Unable to grab a hold of its own jaws.

Preacher sighed. As amusing it was to watch it struggle, she offered help. "Here… You won't reach it with those stubby growing arms of yours." She firmly held its upper jaw down with one hand, it flinched in response. "I'll get it out for you." Her other hand slowly reached up to its mouth.

Suddenly, her hand was kicked away by the impersonator as it fell back onto the grass. Eyes widened, bewildered at the aggression. She moved her elongated neck, looking at it with one eye furrowed. The armless alternate, still laid down on the ground, hyperventilated a little.

"Sorry- Don't know why I did that, haha…" It sat up. "Uh- Try again, I won't kick this time."

"… I can just check the light coming from your crystal, if you open your mouth wide enough…" She suggested. Fair to assume that memories of the traitor's assault had it shaken up. It would be a lie to say she didn't feel a tad bit of pity for it. A brief minute passed, neither of them maintained eye-contact. Not until it decided to accept her offer. It quietly nodded and slowly opened up its mouth, stretching it as far as possible. Ora lunged her back forward, her head moved closer to its face. Tilting to the left, she squinted her eyelids. Despite the teeth and tongue being in the way, a faint shine showed up. Below from its head, a light blue glow flickered. "You can close your mouth now."

It did as told. "So… Did you see anything?"

"I saw a light blue glow. It's faint but I'm certain it's blue." She rested her hands on her knees. "Your sin is sloth."

"And that means?…"

"Ugh… If I am to describe it short, sloth means laziness. An unwillingness to put in effort into productivity. Of course, it's not just laziness. Carelessness, procrastination, and half-hearted effort apply as well. There's many different ways to define it." She paused for a second before continuing. "Slothful alternates are… Well- How do I put it nicely?…" Hard to say any nice complimenting words about the subject. She knew that sloth was lower down in the sin hierarchy amongst their species. In fact, it was the lowest sin you could get.

"Laid-back? Easy-going? If so then I think it's fitting that I'm a sloth alternate, haha!" It interjected with a wide smile plastered on its face.

Ora couldn't help but to let out a snicker. "Sure, you can say that…" Despite her dismissive tone, there was some truth to what it said. Even though those qualities weren't all that useful or impressive, she secretly appreciated them nonetheless. After another long sigh, she looked up at the night's sky. Greeted by a pale crescent moon, it hid behind the dark gray clouds. Nature's ambience eased her thoughts. At least until she'd have to intrude the house once again later. In the meantime, she enjoyed the silence. . . Hours flew by, that's what it felt like. Neither of the alternates had any means of knowing what time it was, besides the sky itself being sort of an indicator. At the dead of night, the duo remained in their same secluded area of the woods. Ora had done multiple quick "check ups" in the failed victim's house but once the family fell asleep, she stopped. No point in constantly stalking the household. Not while no one was active. How strange was that? Those feeble creatures had to sleep through many hours, wasting time in a sense. And for what? To stay active for even fewer hours during the day? How pointless. And yet, an intriguing ability. To go in and out of consciousness. Their kind couldn't do that. Sure, they can close their eyes and pretend they weren't aware of their surroundings. But that's just it. It's pretend. Every waking second, minute, hour and day that passes by, they stay awake. Always conscious. The only downside to that were the many moments of pure and utter boredom that she'd have to go through. Forever waiting, like the very night the two alternates were experiencing. Not even her erratic companion could keep itself entertained for long by chasing random animals or bugs.

For a while, Ora simply gazed at the sky. The mist along with the clouds had dispersed overtime. Enticed by the thousands of stars sprinkled behind the black to gray gradient backdrop. Every so often, a twinkle caught her eye. Sometimes she'd try to spot out any constellations she still remembered. A fun past-time but it too grew tiresome. Her mind focused on something else. She thought about what they were to do once the traitor's human would show up. Well, more accurately. She thought more about how the impersonator would follow after him. Preacher could turn herself into smoke like she usually did with any kind of stalking in action. No worries there. On the other hand, the armless alternate as far as she knew, had no such ability. None that she saw for the little time they spent together. Looking back at it, it was on its knees and ripping out the grass with its teeth.

"...What are you doing?" The Preacher asked with a weary voice.

It stopped and spat out some dirt. "I don't know, felt like eating the dirt."

Preacher squinted one of her eyes and slightly tilted her head.

"What? I'm bored…" It answered her confusion.

"Uh-huh…" She straightened her back as she laid against a tree. "Listen… I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"What abilities do you have?"

"...Abilities? What do you mean by that?"

"Come on, you should know what I mean. You saw me turn to smoke several times, that's an ability for example. You must have discovered SOMETHING while you were stalking your victim." She stated.

"Oooooooh-! Okay, no, I understand! Just let me think…" It paused. "I can walk on walls. Oh, and on ceilings too!- Hah ah! I remember how much fun it was to pace around inside that house!" It had a wide grin on its face, laughing at its own past antics.

"Yes, yes, that's nice… Anything else besides surface adhesion?"

"Hmmm… Well... I can stretch out some of my body parts as well. Like, really far out. Reeeeeeally far out. But I don't use it that much… And I think that's all I've got, really."

"Body manipulation… Ugh, that's what you slothians are best at…" Ora whispered under her breath before gazing back at it. "How about turning yourself into smoke? Can you do that? It'd make it easier for us to follow the traitor's target. Otherwise, you might be stuck here waiting for me."

"Nope! Actually... No idea… Maybe I can? I never tried it."

"With that in particular, you either can or can't do it. So stand up."

The impersonator slowly stood up. Without its arms fully grown out, it struggled. Gathering its senses, it stared at her. "Okay…" It looked around side to side for no reason. "How do I do this exactly?"

"There's not much I can advise you. As I said, you can or can't do it." Still seated by the same tree, her neck fixated up more. "You have to WANT to turn your entire being into smoke. Focus on that for a start. We'll see what happens…" She let out a sigh, already having low expectations.

"Okay, I've got this… It's as easy as that hahaha…" It stared at the ground and then closed its eyes. "...Am I doing it?"

"It's only been a second… Give it a bit more time for Lord's sake…"

"Okay, okay, yeah right… Give it time..."

One minute passed. Then another. And another one. Nothing yet. Ora already had her doubts but the lack of any sort of smoke materializing was enough to shatter any shred of hope she might have had. Surprisingly, moments before she was about to interject with something, black smoke lines were just appearing up from its arms and hair. However, the other alternate snapped out of focus and all that progress disappeared in an instant.

"ARGH- There's no point! It's taking forever, I can't do it..." It exclaimed in a frustrated tone and kicked at the grass.

Preacher shot back up, towering over it. "What in the unholy HELL are you doing? You JUST had it in motion!" Her eyes closed as she pinched her nose. "Focus on this one… simple thing. It takes barely ANY effort yet of course, you would complain and bail at the last second. Go again!"

"ALRIGHT, shit!-" It jumped back. "Lord, I'll do it… Don't scream at me…Crazy..." After readjusting itself, it attempted to focus again. Its breathing got slower and longer as it frowned. The expression on its face was new. Perhaps one of genuine concentration. Therefore, the process went along much faster. Surely enough, its physical form changed. A black smoke cloud stood in front of Ora. It didn't move as though it was taking its time to understand what it had done.

"There you go, not so hard is it-"

All of a sudden, the smoke dashed behind her before she could finish the sentence. Ora barely kept track of it as it frantically zigzagged around the trees. Impressed by how quickly it picked up speed. Considering that was the first time it changed its own matter. Crossing her arms, she allowed for the impersonator to have its brief moment of excitement. Not to mention, the sight was entertaining too. Soon, the smoke trail would move from the trees and briefly slither in circles around her. Sounds of grass and bushes rapidly brushed against filled the surrounding area. It came to a halt once it swiftly turned back into its familiar form. However, as a result of its frantic darting all over the place, it collided into a tree. Ora let out a hiss, cringing at the accidental crash. A loud thud echoed while a few leaves fell out. It violently shook its head, recovering itself. It was unphased as it ran up to her with the widest smile plastered on its face she had seen so far.

"DID. YOU. SEE THAT?! I did it! I FUCKING did it, ahahahahaha!" Its breathing got faster from the boost of adrenaline. "Can't believe I've never done this until now! This is amazing!"

"Yes, yes, good for you." She said with slight sarcasm. Her hands grabbed a hold of its shoulders, hoping the other would calm down a bit. It was visibly shaking. "Save that energy for another time, huh? You didn't pull off some grand stunt here-"

The impersonator's smile began to turn into a frown at her words.

The Preacher paused for a second. "....But... I mean-…" She groaned. "I mean, considering this was your first time changing matter… You did show some impressive speed, I guess... And-… This means you won't have to wait in the woods. You'll be able to tag along with me for when the brown-haired human appears, that's exciting. Right?…"

Its frown immediately perked back up again into a softer smile.

"BUT-" Her grip got tighter. "You better do as I say if you are to tag along… Follow my every move and do NOT leave my sight, no wandering off like you did all day while we got to that blasted house. Do I make myself clear?…"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever! Why are stressing over this so much? It's not like we're doing much here anyway." It answered in a mocking tone.

"I don't think you truly understand what we're getting ourselves into…" She moved her hands away and crossed her arms. "I hope you didn't forget that our main assigned task is to find an alternate. A traitor at that. And to add, a WRATH alternate of all things… YOU encountered it yourself, you should know why this task could go wrong."

"Alright but… There's two of us-"

"That doesn't matter." Ora cut it off. "You may not have been around for long, but I have. I know what wrath alternates are capable of... To add, I've heard accounts from other impersonators who've witnessed that cloaked beast single-handedly kill off groups of younglings like you… And keep in mind, I'm sparing you from the gruesome details they've told me." After it gulped, she continued. "As much as I HATE to say it… Our sins, are below wrath. Once we find the traitor's residence, it'll be aware that its domain is intruded upon… So when I ask you, if I make myself clear... Don't fucking lie to me." She snarled.

It let out a long breath. Uncertainty set in. "Shit… Hah, guess there's a lot more at stake than I thought… Fine, this time I understand. That's for sure... You have my word, I'll stick beside you at all times."

In return, she sighed. Probably the longest sigh she had done. "… We'll see just how good your word is when the moment comes. For now, we shall wait for sunrise…" . . Morning crept up, the start of a new day. With a golden light, the sun came out and a beautiful rose hue persisted in the baby blue sky. Fresh and crisp air overflowed throughout the woods. Life around the alternates began to awake. Sadly, there was no time to enjoy the early scenery. Ora needed to patrol the household more intensely. All while avoiding the threat of sticking out like a sore thumb during daylight. About an hour ago, she had seen the two older adults vacating the house in one of their cars. They left their son alone as she had checked inside before. When she had gone to check, he was in the middle of some sort of morning routine. Tempted to leave, she had stuck around when she overheard a phone call. It was very brief but one detail was important. Someone was driving to pick him up. Who was it for sure? The alternate prayed that it was the human they've been targeting. In a rush, she had told the impersonator of what she learned. Both quickly stood guard behind the right side of the house. Occasionally peeking at the front porch from a safe distance. They couldn't snoop around in their regular appearances. Together they remained in their smoke forms, downsized to more small worm-like looks.

Patiently waiting, the alternates were eager to see who would arrive. Soon enough, Ora saw an unfamiliar vehicle driving and then stopping near the house. It parked behind some wide black iron gates. A figure got out of the car. As they made their way to the front porch, their identity got clearer. Wearing a black and white checkered shirt with a dark gray jacket, their monochromatic outfit wasn't anything of note. But once they finally reached the front door, she carefully peeked out more while hidden amongst some smaller bushes. The impersonator did so too. The figure's facial features seemed male-like. He carried a cigarette in his mouth. His brown and messy brushed up hair stirred the Preacher's memory. Including the dark moles on parts of his face, and those tired eyes. When he suddenly rang the doorbell, she looked back at the other alternate. It itself was intensely staring at the person.

"That- That's him… That's our guy, right there!…" Its voice was very muffled and weak due to its smoke form. Better for the both of them to stay completely quiet. It was doubtful that any human could hear them in their hushed down voices.

"I think he is…" She answered back.

A creak had the alternates jump back a bit. The front door opened. Preacher tried taking a peek at both of the humans.

"Hey. Ready to leave?"

"Yep! Let's go."

After that quick exchange, the two figures left the front porch. Surely heading for the car by the iron gates. Ora let them have a head start before she'd follow. They reached the gates, the brown-haired human opened up one side for the other to pass through first. That was when she jumped from the bushes. Swiftly dashing along the grass and reaching the same gates, the impersonator followed her exact moves as promised. Pausing behind a gate pillar, she then quickly slithered under the car. Two thuds, one after another, echoed. The alternates had mere seconds to enter that car. Without panicking, she discreetly led herself in. While one of the boys was getting seated, beneath their sight, the two smoke lines squeezed through a narrow gap. They landed below the rear legroom space. The car door shut behind them. She hid under the driver's seat, dragging the other alternate with her. Couldn't be too careful, best to remain obscured. Rough whirring noises filled the vehicle when the engine started. Where they were heading, no clue but they didn't care. All they needed was to keep track of the traitor's human.

The alternates stayed hidden in the same spot. Despite how tempting it was to sneakily check by the window, neither of them dared. The slight chance of being spotted held them down. Preferring their undisturbed area below the driver's seat. As far as they knew, the humans had yet to realize that they were carrying two unsuspected passengers. Ora noticed that the impersonator was jittery, trembling in place. Perhaps being stuck in one place wore it down. Or the moving car caused tension. Whatever the reason, she hoped it wouldn't become a problem. The car at certain occasions stopped before continuing its route. A few sharp turns happened while the duo kept their balance. Silence persisted for a while. Until they eavesdropped on a conversation above them.

"Hey, thanks again for picking me up! I didn't think you'd get out of bed this early."

"Hmm? Eh, don't mention it… I got a few hours of sleep before you called." They let out a loud yawn. "Though… When I'll drop you off, I'm driving straight back to bed…"

"Dude, you really need to work on your sleep schedule. You kinda look like shit."

"And you really need to get a driver's license, but you don't hear me bitching about it."

"Por el amor de Dios…" A different voice mumbled under their breath. "Yeah, and I can get it when I want. My parents keep bothering me about it already… I just can't find the time for it, you know? I've got all these damn studies to worry about…"

"I hear that. So glad I finished that shit school early…"

Their chattering stayed uninteresting for a while. From what the Preacher gathered, the human pair seemed fairly close. With friendly banter and laughter sprinkled in between their casual talk. One had a much calmer tone in their voice and the other, complete opposite with a more lively and fast-paced way of speaking. At one point, something intriguing came up within their discussion.

"...By the way, remember that math homework you helped me with?"

"Yeah… What about it? If you got a shitty grade, I'm sorry but don't yell at me cuz'-"

"That's just it! I got a perfect grade on it. Which is weird, knowing we spent the entire time fighting over the answers… But I don't know, maybe you couldn't help yourself from PISSING me off. Instead of just giving me the right answers straight away, like a normal person." There was a pause. "… Also, you're bad at math too… So I really don't know how you got me that grade."

"No shit I'm bad at math! I didn't actually DO the homework, Cesar."

"The fuck you mean by that?…"

"My dad gave me the answers, I just wrote them down."

"Wait, what? No, no!- But I-… The entire time I was at your place, not ONCE did I see Him with us! When did he even have time to-"

"It was when you went to the bathroom… He told me it got sick of us shouting while it was reading in my bedroom. Interrupted his read just when it was getting to the "best part". His words, not mine by the way."

"Huh…" A lengthy minute passed before they said anything else. "...I guess that explains why the grade was so high… Well, tell it I said thanks and that I appreciate the help."

"You could thank him yourself next time you come over."

"Maybe…" They hesitantly responded.

"…But?"

"Ugh… I might be fine standing in the same room as Him. Hell, half the time I don't even notice it's there. But when I try to talk to it, or when it gets too close, I freeze. My heart beats like crazy... I can't help it… His stare makes me so uneasy… It's like he's carrying around some kind of cursed aura or something..."

"I can't believe you're still scared of it... You know he can't help it being what he is, besides... He's intentionally avoiding you whenever you visit just for YOUR mind's sake. So why can't you give Him a chance?"

"Unlike you Mark, I didn't grow up with an alternate for a dad. This just doesn't seem natural to me at all! I can barely wrap my head around that still…"

With them falling silent, Ora felt a bit of relief. At least the alternates had a firmer confirmation that whom they stalked, was in fact the traitor's kid. Or "Him", as it was apparently named. The nickname sounded odd to say the least. Maybe it was more about how vague it seemed. Not leaving much of an impression by hearing it. Didn't even sound remotely intimidating, considering its negative reputation. However, she had to lay her thoughts aside. The car halted yet again. A loud click blared, the Preacher thought it came from a seat belt. A thud noise followed suit. Cooling air blew inside as someone had opened up a car door.

"Alrighty, gotta run to class. Thanks again for the ride!"

"No problem, Cesar. I'll see you again soon?"

"For sure! Chau!"

After the farewell, they firmly shut the door behind them. The vehicle began to move once more. Ora noticed that the driver above her had picked up speed. By any chance, they might be headed to where Mark lived. She was unsure for how long her fellow companion would last staying put. It slowly turned in circles around her. As a way to entertain itself. Probably. She didn't bother questioning it. Her mind focused on what was next to come. Their next moves had to be fast and careful. So far they were uncaught, and she intended on keeping it that way.

It hadn't been long until they reached their final stop. The seat over the alternates shook. The time came, they had to move out of their hiding spot. Slithering to the legroom space, Ora saw the driver's seat belt retracting back. Met with the outside breeze, Mark was about to exit his car. Waiting for the right moment, she prepared to bounce with the impersonator right by her side. When he fully stood outside with his back facing the duo, two smoke lines jumped forward and landed on concrete. They immediately hid under the vehicle. All they could see were a pair of shoes from there. A harsh slam rang throughout as Mark closed the car door. Right after, those same shoes walked away. The alternates waited for some space between them and him. Seconds later, they went out in the open. Ora needed to keep track of their target but also, their surroundings simultaneously. They slithered towards an apartment building. It was moderately sized, and colored in washed out tones of brown. It had a decaying look to it with some faint black smudges scattered all over, especially at the top. It lacked any sort of vintage charm. Certain front windows were pitch black, others were lit-up. Other nearby buildings had similar dull colors. The entire area felt dead, with little outside activity from any other human.

A few feet away from their target, they held a safe distance. Mark reached the main entrance to the apartment building, soon disappearing from their sight. The doors closed in front of the alternates but that wasn't a problem. They swiftly slid through the tightest gap below them. Inside, the place didn't look any better. The walls had cracked brown paint in some patches. As they continued to follow the echoing footsteps up the stairs, they tried picking up the pace and got closer behind the guy. Mark walked in a sluggish manner, holding onto the side railings with one hand. Sometimes pausing to slouch against a wall and yawn. After walking up a few floors, Mark finally stopped at a door marked with its own number. A bit of rummaging through his pockets, he found his keys and let himself inside. The alternates stared at the same door, the Preacher made sure to remember the specific number on it. She looked at the impersonator, they both nodded to each other before entering.

Through another gap, they quickly entered the guy's home. Ora without a second spared, wanted to find a hiding spot. While Mark sat on the living room couch, rubbing his eyes. The alternate spotted a stack of boxes sitting right beside the door. They slithered in one of the cardboard boxes. What they laid on top were some books, covered in dust. The smoke lines were entangled with one another since there was even less space to work with. They fell silent. They had the location of their target, but she had to be sure that wasn't some other human and alternate pair they got confused with. Needing at least one glimpse of the traitor for herself. Shortly, she'd get what she wanted. Ora sensed a presence approaching and growing stronger. She had no means of checking safely, unless she risked using the slight opening on top of the box. She chose to listen and wait for the right opportunity instead. Someone's footsteps slowly passed by them and headed towards the living room.

"Ah... Back so soon already?" Whoever was talking, wasn't Mark. Their voice was low and gravelly, but spoke in the calmest tone. Was it, "Him"?

"Yeah, just gave Cesar a lift… Don't know if I can fall back asleep again after that, though..."

"...You couldn't take out those boxes while you were out?"

"What boxes-" Mark asked. "OH, those boxes… I'll do it later."

"It's been a week since they've sat by the door…"

"And? It's not like they're bothering you or something... It's only like, 4 boxes filled with YOUR old books. Maybe you should take them out..."

Their conversation ceased for an uncomfortable moment. Once they mentioned the same boxes within which the two alternates hid, Ora tensed up and the impersonator trembled.

"What?…" Mark broke the sudden silence. "Him, you don't have to keep staring at those boxes. I'll take them out later if it's actually bothering you. Geez…"

"No, it's not that…"

There was a pause before its kid answered. "...Oh shit, I know that look… You don't think you might be just, a little bit paranoid- WHOA, HEY! Dad, what the FUCK are you doing?!"

The unexpected shouting caught the duo off guard. The Preacher figured then was her chance to peek out. Gently pulling herself up, without moving the box too much, she glanced at the living room. She caught sight of the alternate dressed in a black hooded robe. It lifted up the couch by one side, frantically checking it from underneath while Mark held onto the sofa's arm, dangling from it. Its face fitted most of the descriptions given by other impersonators from what she memorized. She lowered down to address her companion.

"We're done here… Get ready to book it out of here…" She whispered.

It simply gave her a nervous nod in return. With that, she peeked out again. Him was in the middle of lowering the couch back down, its back facing them. She prepared herself by counting down to three in her head. At the last number, they lunged out of the box one after the other, and slid out the same way they had gotten in. The alternates frantically slithered down the stairs. Understandably unwilling to wait and find out what could have happened if they stayed in that box any longer. Reaching the first floor and exiting the building, Ora guided it to a nearby parked car. Hidden under a vehicle again, but that time mostly for catching their breaths. Admittedly, she was less stressed than it, whom in contrast was audibly gasping.

"You feeling okay?… We'll be safe here, I'll allow you to recollect yourself."

It let out a few long and raspy breaths before saying anything. "No, no, I'm fine ahahaha-… Just a little shaky…"

"...I can see that…" She quickly glanced back at the apartment's entrance. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm pleasantly surprised you behaved yourself for the entire time."

"Thanks, I guess…" It paused. "Lord, we were barely in there and it somehow sensed us that fast? What in Hell's sake is wrong with it…"

"Told you this was a dangerous task, we were blessed that it didn't think to check the boxes first."

"No kidding… Can we turn back into our physical forms now? I can't bear to be nothing but smoke for this long…"

"It hasn't been that long, besides you should get used to it. I doubt we're done stalking those two…" She mumbled in an irritated tone.

"Yeah?… What does that TV guy want with them to start with?…"

The Preacher groaned at the slight mention of Six. "Knowing that egomaniac… Probably planning on showing off his powers or some stupid nonsense like that... He always finds ways to be an utter nuisance to others of his kind, whom he perceives as beneath him. You'll learn to hate him as much as I do sooner than you think... Believe me"

"Hah… I think I might be ahead of that. His face looks so punch-able if I'm being honest..."

She let a chuckle escape at its last comment. "Well, in that case… You and I are going to get along just fine. Despite your erratic behavior..."

Both softly laughed. Working with the armless impersonator was nowhere near as painful as she anticipated it'd be. She truly had no idea how it would all go down. Luckily, they had done what they were set out to do. Finding the traitor's residence, and that went about with minimal trouble. For all she knew, there was a high possibility for it to ruin everything. Yet, they were alive and well. There's not much else left to do. Once they would report their small but important findings, she was sure she'll see Mark and Him a lot more often. Hiding beneath their sights, where they'll least expect it.

#back and still alive hehe #best friend au #alternate universe #fan character #mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue #the preacher #alternate cesar #mark heathcliff #cesar torres #him #fanfiction #my writing

[tadfools]

requesting a vibe check! can someone do me a quick little favour and read this (is about 900 words) and tell me if it's a good opener for a story?

She could hear the fire crackling behind her, popping every so often with the remnants of the boar’s fat which had dripped within the pit several hours prior. It was a good find and, with Gale’s little freezing trick, would keep the group fed for at least another few days.

Tavris was almost hesitant to grab the animal’s carcass and take it back to the camp but Wyll and Karlach insisted. The placement was too perfect – the kill too clean. As if the beast was meant to be found.

Beyond that, Astarion had attempted to pull her attention from it in a way that opposed what she decided was his normal behavior. While they had only known each other for a handful of days, his need to draw her attention from the boar struck her as odd. Had Wyll not rolled it over with the heel of his boot, the two thin trails of blood clotting the fur of its neck would have gone unnoticed. Had Tavris not been slightly turned to the side, the motion of Astarion’s eyes darting away would have gone the same.

A problem for later she supposed. Everyone in the group was entitled to their own secrets. Astarion was no exception.

Their system for the night’s watch had gone well so far. With two of them being of the elven variety, it meant that watch could be split up between just the two of them while the others slept soundly for 8 hours. Though Lae’zel was prone to ‘scanning the perimeter’ before settling down, similar to a disgruntled housecat.

Tavris was meant to sleep first; with another three hours still to pass before her pale companion would end her meditation - if it didn’t come naturally to a close. She had pulled herself away from the group, stating that the sound of the river’s water aided her rest. Her back was now to the fire and the others sleeping soundly around its diminishing warmth. It wasn't necessarily a lie; the water’s babbling did help. Though not with any pathetic attempt at mediation. It was a distraction.

The gnolls that had ravaged that caravan… the blood of those accompanying it. All of it spilt poorly, with the same care a child would afford to throwing paint during a tantrum. It was disgusting.

Where was the artistry, where was the craft? The suffering of every human slaughtered there was ended quickly. The animals lunged for throats first. Pathetic. Would it have been so that she led the massacre, the suffering would have gone on for hours. The screams would have been savored with an expert’s care-

She snapped her eyes open, now faced with hands clenched into fist that sat in her lap. The deep purple of Tavris’ skin pulled taught around her knuckles as she flexed them. The thoughts weren’t getting any easier to push away. Her mind never stilled, near relentless in the horrors that would accost it at any given moment.

The most mundane of activities, it seemed, were tinged with depravity. Something as simple as cutting carrots for the stew which made the group’s dinner was twisted within brief flashes of each chop being a finger’s knuckle. The owner of the appendage howling in a pain that she reveled in.

The peeling of the onions was a task Gale gave to her after. Tavris could almost imagine it being the same as peeling back the skin of a face. An agonizingly simple motion, a simple pull of the ear and one could achieve a clean removal to the other side.

It was almost enough to drown out the prattling of her fellow wizard, who in the few days since they met, decided he was to be the group’s resident cook. There was a twinge in the back of her mind when she thought that. Not the mutilation of a man meant to be her friend, but in the idea that he could be considered an equal to her in any regard.

The magic that Gale played with wasn’t worth killing. It was meant for show - to impress others that were meant to die. Where Gale made a show of a flick of the wrist and bright colorful displays of sparks. She should’ve cut his hand off when she had the chance Tavris wield pure, concentrated death in her hands…it wouldn’t have been that hard to rot the wizard’s flesh.

None of that was within a line of thinking Tavris wanted to be anywhere near. She wanted to listen Gale’s stories of Waterdeep and learn how he casted spells like an art display.

It was easier to raise a corpse and have it an answer a string of questions than it was for her to produce a simple flame in the palm of her hand. Even in the fight against the gnolls, she wanted to lunge at them with a dagger instead of sending a bolt of radiant energy towards them from a distance. Why was that?

The headache which never fully left her thrummed in time with her heartbeat. A steady rhythm of blood which serenaded her in quiet moments. It was maddening.

What had she done before the nautiloid to be cursed with the inability to sit in quiet for even a moment? Tavris took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. If it was that painful to focus within, she would focus out.

The fire dying down, Karlach’s snoring, Shadowheart – or perhaps Wyll tossing in their bedroll, the river flowing away from them, frogs croaking and crickets chirping and the sound of… leaves crunching.

Crunching leaves that were all but muffled within the other sounds of the night. Had she not been actively listening the footfalls; they would have gone unnoticed.

#bee's writing #its going to be the bite scene in act one #you know whos crunchin those leaves #i didn't proofread this too closely

[katieraven]

God after that Minho birthday drabble i have to request something happy to heal my heart-

How about when Min comes home after doing his birthday Vlive and such, he brings you cake and yall stay up late eating it, playing with cats and spending time together till the sun comes up 🥹 (are Minho thoughts plauging everyone this week-?)

hiii thank you for the request, i hope you like this!!

warnings: even more tooth-rotting fluff. you guys should be careful and watch out for your teeth.

word count: 900

“Doongie.”

“Doongie, seriously.”

“Doongie, you need to move.”

To nobody’s surprise, she doesn’t. Right now, you’re sitting on the sofa in Minho’s flat. You had about five minutes of alone time until this menace of a cat plopped down in your lap and now you obviously can’t move. She looks at you with her ridiculously pretty eyes stays exactly. Where she is. You had been cleaning before and dealing with three cats while cleaning is … interesting. Soonie could not get over the fact that no, you were not in this room to cuddle her, Dori just followed the Swiffer around wherever you moved it, batting at it with the biggest, most mischievous eyes you had ever seen on a cat, and Doongie, well. Doongie usually keeps to herself. One might interpret it as disinterest, but you like to believe that she’s watching. 

And the most obvious piece of evidence for you little thesis is that she waited for the exact moment you let yourself take a break, only to strut over and chose your lap as her resting place for the foreseeable future. And you’re exhausted. And have a cat in your lap. A cat that usually doesn’t particularly love cuddles – at least doesn’t seek them out actively. You get the feeling that while Dori and Soonie genuinely enjoy being around humans, Doongie sees herself as lady of the house, the rest of you rather as roommates at best – servants at worst. At least that’s what you were told. 

When you first came over to Minho’s, Doongie watched you for about two hours from a safe distance while you were entirely preoccupied with the chaos that is a nervous Minho, a hyperactive Dori and a cuddly Soonie. But then she came over and you saw Minho’s eyes widen to an extent you had never seen before, because Doongie just rolled up in your lap and started purring.

“She … doesn’t do that”, he had explained his dumbfounded reaction. “She doesn’t usually like people. Especially new people.” Then he had stared at you. “My cat likes you.”

Very few other sentences had ever made you as happy.

**

You startle when the door falls closed. Immediately, Doongie opens her eyes and stares at you judgementally for moving too quickly, before elegantly sauntering off your lap and off over the couch. You yawn, stretch, and then find a tired but very amused looking Minho right in front of you. Suddenly you’re very awake. 

“Min! It’s so late!”, you panic, “I wanted to bake you a cake and I completely forgot I’m so sorry I just – I sat down for a second and then Doongie came over and I didn’t want to move and then I just –“

He chuckles, before putting a finger to your mouth.

“Shh, it’s fine, Jagi.” 

You get up with a pout, disappointed in yourself. 

“Thank you for cleaning”, he adds when he notices your disgruntled face. 

“You noticed?”, you ask in a tiny voice, and wrap one hand around his wrist. He tsks.

“Of course, I noticed. Who do you take me for? Now stop pouting, I brought cake with me.”

You’re instantly feeling guilty again and start whining, but he turns around with a stern impression on his face. 

“It’s not like I baked it. Or bought it. It’s from the live, remember?” 

Oh. Right. That you can deal with, you suppose.

The cake is cute, as they always are, and it’s pretty delicious as well. Of course every cake is delicious when you have three cats piled on and around the two of you, sitting on the floor in front of the TV and watching some ridiculous variety show that none of you really pay attention to. Minho finished his cake a while ago and is slowly drawing circles on your back with his left hand while petting Soonie with his right. Every so often he leans over to kiss you on the cheek. Whenever you look over to him, you can see the corner of his mouth quirk up and his eyes crinkle with the smile that’s ghosting over his face. 

You spend the better part of the evening like this, until it’s almost midnight and you have to shoo Doongie off your lap again. She’s not amused, but you have grown to accept that about her – she rarely is. And she keeps coming back. You get up and offer your hand to Minho who immediately takes it, only to then fully arrive in the situation.

“Why are we getting up?”, he asks, switching off the TV. You smile at the fact that he follows you first and asks questions later – it’s moments like these that make you realise just how smitten you are.

“Just trust me”, you hum, and lead him up the stairs over to the large window in the bedroom. It leads to a balcony – a very tiny one, but it will suffice for what you’ve planned. You gently push him onto the balcony, “I’ll be right back okay?”, and walk over to the bedside table where you made preparations earlier.

When you return, Minho sees the sparklers in your hands and his eyes widen. His mouth falls open in this cute, tiny o-shape that you adore so much, and you can’t help but boop his nose. His face instantly crinkles into such a grumpy face that you just have to laugh. You know he’s not actually angry, his eyes still have that mischievous sparkle, not unlike Dori – now that you think about it.

You light the sparklers and watch their reflections in Minho’s eyes, who looks so happy that you don’t even feel guilty for not baking him a cake anymore – he doesn’t mind. His happiness is all the proof that you need.

#minho #lee know #lee minho #lee know fluff #lee minho fluff #fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #skz #katies requests

[pollylynn]

Title: Dumb Show WC: 900

“I don't know where she gets it from. Honestly I don’t.” 

—Martha Rodgers, A Rose for Everafter (2 x 12)

He is not at all a fan of Kate Beckett’s Richard Castle impersonation. He’s not a fan of her callous, but cutting, outside-her-head insights, or her little game with the chair and full conjugation of the verb to yank. He does not appreciate in the leastthe impromptu “. . . in the style of Richard Castle” tale she weaves, because he’s not doing his usual weaving. So, no: Not. A. Fan. 

He would like to broadcast this news far and wide. He would like the official record to mark him down as Not a Fan, but he does no broadcasting all. He can hear his mother already. He can hear Alexis, the boys, Montgomery, and—heaven forfend—Lanie. He can hear every last one of them in crystal clear surround sound, and he has no interest in discussing the fairness—or lack thereof—of his not-a-fan-ness. So he says nothing. He does not broadcast. He simply stews.  

And he makes bad decision after bad decision. Except is he really making them, or is she—with her truly terrible Richard Castle impersonation—forcing him into them through some cosmic doppelgänger trickery or something? She’s probably forcing him, which is good news, because his bad decisions have been pretty bad. 

In no particular order, kissing Kyra was a bad decision. It was, in fact, the worst kind of bad decision, because it seemed like a good one, every step of the way. Meet Kyra. In no way complicate or compromise the case. Prove the piss-poor Richard Castle impersonator wrong. Prove that talentless—and by the way, mean—hack super-duper wrong by upping the ante with a romantic location. Tell himself, every step of the way, that this was all about Kyra—helping her, supporting her, protecting her from the dark forces of Greg, the almost certain murderer. There’s not a single moment in which the plan seems anything but foolproof until the kiss is happening. Until he’s aching for this woman, except not the one in his arms, not at this moment, and not this Richard Castle. He’s aching for a woman who isn’t here on behalf of a man who isn’t anywhere and it’s her fault. Beckett’s. Kate-Beckett-as-Richard-Castle’s. 

In no particular order, going for the jugular with Greg was a bad decision. That’s her fault though some kind of telepathic trickery. On the surface he had seen immediately that he was going to have to be extra Richard Castle, because she had suddenly shifted into an even more extreme than usual anti-Richard Castle mode. She’d taken that complete just-enough-play rich boy—that complete tool at his word, so what was he supposed to do? Not take the bait. Greg and the jugular were some kind of double bad decision and entirely the result of some kind of head fake on her part. She’d hung back in the interview, kicked him out, and then given him the full-court press. That’s not what Richard Castle would say . . .

How the hell would she know what he would or would not say? She does an impression of him so bad that it’s driving him into . . . this. 

He’s wasting his time on an unworthy adversary across the interrogation table. He is missing the obvious and compelling story about the Cheating Groom and the Vengeful Bride. (But only because she’s clearly stolen it right out of his head with her dark, terrible impression magic.). He is kissing the woman who has been . . . a totem for nearly twenty years. She has been the impossible dream and the ridiculous standard. She has been the thing protecting him from real feeling, real commitment, real everything, and he has just kissed her out of existence. 

He is . . . snapping at her in an elevator. Beckett, not Kyra. Beckett-as-Castle. It’s another in-no-particular-order bad decision. He is freezing her out and thinking—unfairly, unkindly—that all he’s doing is his best Kate Beckett impression, because turnabout is fair play. He’s unconvinced. After all is said and done with Kyra and Greg and the failed eleventh hour seduction, he is not convinced that he’s treated her fairly at any point in this case. 

The kiss, he knows, will linger, then fade. It’s already something he has to concentrate on if he wants to call up that shiver. Going after Greg with such vicious gusto—he’ll roll his eyes at himself over that. 

But snapping at her, freezing her out when she was only asking, that’s all, sticks with him. She was just asking.

He picks up the phone late that night. It’s unlikely to endear him to her, but he picks up the phone anyway. 

“It was a bad break-up,” he says before she can even form the first syllable of a groggy Hello? “And it was a nonevent. Which made it worse” 

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Everything in him is tense with the desire to fill the silence, but he’s contrite, so he waits it out. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, her voice halting and tentative. 

“No,” he says quickly. “ I don’t . . . I don’t have anything to say about it.” There’s another pause. He worries that she’ll rush to fill it. Or she’ll hang up. But she waits it out, too. “It was bad. That’s all there is to say. But can we just . . . talk?” 

“Yeah,” she says quickly. Maybe she’s contrite. “Yeah, Castle. We can talk.” 

A/N: They're turning into one another and it's only season 2, friends.

images via homeofthenutty

#Csatle #Caskett #Castle: Season 2 #Castle: A Rose for Everafter #CastleABC #Castle: 2 x 12 #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Johanna Beckett #Lanie Parish #Martha Rodgers #Alexis Castle #Kyra Blaine #Jim Beckett #Javier Esposito #Kevin Ryan #Roy Montgomery #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Fabrications

[sequestered-song-skirmish]

Round 1 Poll 53

Hyper Realistic Eyes：　「it is so ridiculously good. it just sounds so crunchy and it's clear the artist was so passionate about it, plus it's about being a kid and reading creepypastas which is just a great subject matter. just a very good song overall」

The Nightmare Song：　「While The Nightmare Song and the operetta it's from (Iolanthe) may not be totally obscure, I think this specific version of it is niche enough to count for this competition. Martyn Green was one of D'Oyly Carte's best comic baritones, and his performances in Gilbert and Sullivan shows are wonderful. However, while his renditions of G&S numbers are not impossible to find, they're also not easy to get ahold of either. The YouTube video I've linked to is actually an almost hour-long collection of Martyn Green singing G&S songs, and the whole thing has only about 1.1K views. (I don't know if it's on Spotify as I don't have a Spotify account) I've sent a timestamped link, to where the song starts at 38:30. The Nightmare Song itself is an entertaining and impressive example of patter, which showcases the talent and diction of its performer.」

The timestamp works for me currently, but I can't promise it will after posting. If it doesn't in the embed, perhaps it will in the link above.

PaddleOut：　「paddleout (and raven underground's music in general) has just really really solid guitar work. i happened upon this artist a couple years back? i don't remember exactly how, i think it was a chance spotify recommendation of something off of The War for Bohemia album. I ended up liking the Pangolin Bloodbath album more, though. anyway i fell in love with PaddleOut. the main riff is so smooth and the slides on the notes are so masterful. what's awesome is the riff shows up again in another song later on the album, UV Light. i love leitmotifs so bad... the vocalist has sort of an emo-ish lilt to their voice, but somehow it fits in really well with the overall indie rock/alt rock/mild grunge aesthetic of the instrumentals (i'm bad at genre identification don't @ me). PaddleOut has a really great full sound and i used to listen to it to fall asleep when taking naps. good ass song.

i know it has a bit more than the allotted streams/views but ive still not met another person who knows about Raven Underground unless i introduced it to them.」

(In case it's important to anyone, below is the only upload of the song on YouTube, which is unofficial and has <100 views. Their official YT has just under 900 subscribers. On Spotify, about 11K monthly listeners and 20K-ish for this song.)

#poll #sagan hawkes #arthur sullivan #martyn green #raven underground #Youtube

[bas-writes]

your blind date is waiting for you...

A suitor is awaiting for @honey-deku who as their dream date wanted to go to an amusement park. I hope you will spend lovely time together!

gender neutral reader | ~900 words | suggestive themes and mentions of alcohol

You like the touch of her hand.

At first glance, it's just a hand—a petite hand of an elegant woman, soft and smooth, adorned with rings and well-manicured, long nails. You expected her hold to be as faint and feminine, but she proved you wrong with an exceptionally firm and strong squeeze; one you would rather associate with a man used to physical labor.

A pleasant surprise adding to the overall pleasant evening.

Utahime grabbed your hand when you were leaving the roller coaster station and hasn't let go ever since. It's the first time she dared to cross the border of physical contact, a few hours into the date, but it came so naturally you haven't even pointed it out. It would be a shame to spook her right as she's warmed up around you. And you're sure your hand would feel too cold and lonely without hers.

It's the middle of workweek, off-season, so the amusement park is not crowded, a perfect atmosphere for a casual date, not too intimate but not too public either. You're even spared of long queues for attractions—so far, the longest you had to wait for bubble tea to soothe your tortured with adrenaline throats—so the night has been passing nicely and smoothly.

The queue for another ride is no exception. You would say it's even less busy: the attraction is not the most besieged one, quite off the main trail, seeming older and, as much as you're informed, slower than the crazy rides you've tried before. Utahime has stubbornly pulled you here, visibly pleased with herself as you secure your position for the waiting. The distance between you two is gradually shrinking, her hand leaves yours just to lock a new position in the nook of your elbow. Your shoulders are touching, you can feel the soft curve of her breast way too close for just a casual date. If you focused enough, maybe you would pinpoint the scent of her perfumes in the air.

Scent you would very gladly investigate even more profoundly, you realize with a slight shudder wandering down your spine.

"Do you want to grab some sushi after?" As if reading your mind, Utahime sneaks into your personal space with close to no shame. You have a feeling she would climb your lap if only you were sitting.

"We're done with rides?" The amusement park was your idea, but she agreed for it with such enthusiasm that you were sure you hit the jackpot. And now she's done after barely two thirds of what this park could offer?

"I might be hungry..." She tilts her head to the side, letting her hair fall over her shoulder, exposing the back of her neck. "And thirsty. Just a little."

Elegant fingernails graze the inner side of your arm, a few sneaky inches up and down, back into the secured place, before it could grow cold, "I know a good place, two or three train stops away from here. Wednesday night, all drinks from the front menu are twenty percent off."

She doesn't look like a heavy drinker, nor like a party animal. All this time you were under an impression that she's more of the coffee shop and bookstore kind of a girl. Have you judged her wrong? Have you walked into a precisely set seduction trap? Are you reading a little bit too much into a simple proposal of turning the date into a dinner one?

Maybe you just wish there was something behind her words?

"You have quite a thought ride written all over your face." Utahime doesn't laugh but there's a lot of amusement in her voice. "Did I spook you? My bad. I know I can be quite...direct. Just tell me, if I'm too much."

"Not too much," you promise and pull her hand into you with more confidence. "I quite like it about you."

Chaos swallows you two after the ride stopped and people exchanged seats. You're right by the railing now, bright light fills her face with crazy colors and deep shadows. The scar she tries to cover with a thick layer of powder stands out more prominently now; your gaze lingers over it more by accident than anything but those few seconds are enough for her confidence to falter.

The hold on your arm grows weaker, ready to drop at any moment.

"I like that about you too." You pull her close again, ready to fight against the consequences of your little faux pas, but her good mood returns as fast as it started withdrawing. "And I like some good drinks too, if we're already at our preferences."

Utahime doesn't even think twice, you can tell from the not-so-subtle jolt of her shoulders and bright smile in her eyes, "Twenty percent off is a great deal, right?"

"Great, yes. Easy to lose control."

The next line is so obvious, with the way she's been clinging to you, with her doe eyes seeking yours right from the very beginning of the date, with the amount of adrenaline rushing in your veins after you've screamed your lungs out on rides and carousels.

But your cheeks still get a little warmer when she, hesitating just for a few seconds, finally drops it on the table, "My place is nearby, just on the other side of the street. If you—"

"I would." You dare to move your arm and wrap it loosely around her waist—and you're immediately accepted. "Would love to stay over, if we lose control."

#utahime x reader #utahime x y/n #utahime x you #utahime imagine #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #bas writes #jjk #iori utahime #blind dates #gender neutral reader