#[ very slight mention ]

[lilybug-02]

Weird Route...

Spoilers for CT Weird Route below.

Please check tags for anything triggering ❤️

Afterlife...

........

This is not cannon, as the weird route is finished and it will not be added upon. But.......I often find myself wanting to draw for it. So here you are...

The weird route ends abruptly and without art for a reason. I wanted to make it painfully obvious that as YOU continue the route/story YOU stop getting anything out of it. You're only hurting the characters, and by the end, there's nothing left to do except start over.

I had thought of Asriel discovering Chara...well, dead. But I think that would have been too much for the scene. I didn't want to get any more depressing than it already was.

tbh I only hope that I can make an ending even half as good as this one. I still think about it often and I'm proud of the amount of work I put into it.

[14dayswithyou]

Angel should live tweet every single date with Ren in group chat with Leon, Jae, and Teo. (aka da discord bots all getting summoned at once)

✦゜ANSWERED: You know... I think you're onto something 🤔 (Also I took this a bit too literally and made Angel actually live tweet Day 2's date sdgdsg)

[aventurineswife]

Running in the Shadows

Summary: Caught in a chase under the moonlit sky, you believe you can outrun Moze, the elusive Shadow Guard of the Yaoqing. But Moze quickly catches up, only to surprise you.

Tags: Moze x Reader(can be read as platonically) Chase scene, Hurt/Comfort, Protector, Slow Burn, Tension, Fluff with Angst, Emotional Vulnerability, Barefoot Running.

Warnings: Mentions of panic and fear during the chase, Slight physical restraint, Mild emotional tension.

Feel free to send in your requests!

Original Idea

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow on the deserted streets of the city. You sprinted down the narrow alleyways, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you glanced back over your shoulder. The sound of footsteps echoed ominously behind you, but you believed you could outpace your pursuer. After all, you were nimble and fast, and this was your territory.

You turned sharply, weaving through the shadows, your breath quickening as you picked up speed. However, the footsteps only grew louder, each step punctuating the air with an unsettling promise. Who was chasing you? You didn’t have time to think about it; you needed to escape.

As you rounded another corner, the alley widened, and you felt a rush of hope. Perhaps you could find a place to hide, a chance to lose whoever was behind you. You pushed your legs harder, ignoring the sting of your bare feet against the cold pavement, the gravel digging into your soles. You were almost there—just a few more steps.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed ahead of you, and instinct kicked in. You turned to run the other way, but in an instant, the figure emerged from the darkness—a tall, muscular silhouette with gray hair cascading over one shoulder. You recognized him instantly.

“Moze...” you gasped, feeling a mix of fear and an inexplicable thrill.

He moved with a predatory grace, closing the distance between you with ease. Panic surged through you, and you quickened your pace again, but it was futile. With a swift motion, he reached out and grabbed your waist, effortlessly lifting you off your feet.

“Got you.” he said, his voice low and steady, but there was no malice in his tone—only an unsettling calm.

Before you could react, he lowered you gently onto something soft. Confused, you looked down to find your shoes—waiting for you. The act was so unexpected, so disarming, that you almost forgot about your fear.

“Why were you running?” Moze asked, his violet-blue eyes locking onto yours, a hint of concern flickering beneath his stoic demeanor.

You stammered, “I… I thought you were after me.”

“I was,” he admitted, a faint smirk teasing the corner of his lips. “But not in the way you think.”

His hands remained on your, grounding, you as you tried to catch your breath. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a flicker of something deeper beneath the surface—a connection that transcended the chase.

“Put your shoes on,” he said, his voice softening. “You’ll hurt yourself running around barefoot.”

The warmth of his hands lingered on your skin, and you nodded, slipping your feet into the shoes. The fit offered a sense of security, a reminder that despite the shadows surrounding you, there was someone watching over you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, looking up at him. “I didn’t expect you to… uh help me?”

“Neither did I,” he replied, his expression unreadable. “But you shouldn’t have to run alone.”

In that moment, as the city around you buzzed with the life of the night, the world felt a little less chaotic. Moze, the enigmatic Shadow Guard, had pulled you from the edge of fear, reminding you that sometimes, the shadows held more than just danger; they held unexpected allies.

Just then, a distant siren blared, cutting through the stillness of the night. Moze’s expression hardened, the vulnerability replaced by a shadow of tension.

“We need to move.” he said, suddenly alert.

“Where?” you asked, glancing around nervously.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes scanning the dark alley as if he could sense something looming just beyond the edge of the shadows. “Anywhere but here.” he replied, a cryptic urgency lacing his tone.

Before you could question him further, he reached for your hand, pulling you toward the darkest recess of the alley. The grip was firm, yet the moment felt surreal, as if the very air around you was thickening with unspoken truths.

As you ran, the weight of uncertainty hung heavily in the air. Just ahead, you spotted a narrow doorway that led to the unknown. With a fleeting glance over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of movement—a flicker of shadows beyond the light.

“What’s back there?” you asked, your heart racing.“I don’t know,” Moze replied, glancing back at you, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. “But we don’t have time to find out.”

Just as you reached the door, the echo of hurried footsteps filled the alley behind you—voices, angry and demanding. Moze’s grip tightened, and in one swift motion, he yanked open the door, revealing an inky darkness that swallowed you whole.

You hesitated at the threshold, the fear of the unknown clashing with the urgency of the moment. “Moze, wait—”

He turned, his violet-blue eyes piercing through the dark. “Trust me,” he urged, an intensity in his voice that sent a shiver down your spine. “We can’t let them catch us.”

And in that moment, as the door creaked open wider, you were faced with a choice. You could step into the darkness with him, leaving everything behind, or retreat to the light where you might be safe but alone.

As you weighed your options, the footsteps grew louder, and the shadows began to close in around you. The last thing you heard before the door swung shut was Moze’s voice, a whisper that echoed in your mind: “Sometimes, the darkest paths lead to the brightest futures…”

The door slammed shut, and the world around you faded to black, leaving you to wonder what awaited in the unknown and whether you would ever find your way back.

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

(hi chat. i wrote a fic about oli cameo-ing in wild life. it’s about 1k words. lizzie jimmy and scar are in it. it gets a little sad. i hope you enjoy it)

Oli snickered at the absolutely dumbfounded expression currently being given to him by none other than Jimmy Solidarity.

“Hiya Tim. Did you miss me?”

Jimmy continued to stare with his jaw halfway to the void. “What- you- you’re not- how are you here?”

Oli just grins, sitting back and crossing his legs with what he hopes is an annoyingly smug expression. Judging by the way Jimmy’s eyes flash, it’s working.

“I’m just that special. Being practically god and all, I thought I should pay a visit to my sweet sweet boy.” Oli waves a hand, tilting his head. Jimmy looks cute when he’s confused.

“Does Grian know you’re here?”

Oli grins. “Who do you think invited me?”

If Jimmy wasn’t in shock before, he certainly is now. “Grian. Brought you. Here. To his death games.”

Oli swings his legs absently. “Someone had to write a song for that little trivia bot. 2 of them, actually. In one day. Not sure how I pulled that one off, not to mention the snails.”

Jimmy dissolves into a fit of nonsensical babbling, and Oli can’t help but it burst into laughter again. While Jimmy processes this, Oli decides it’s about time he takes a look around. He hops off the block he’s sitting on, spinning around slowly to take in Jim’s base.

It’s cutesy, he decides, and almost painfully familiar. The cherry theming, the hilltop location, the giant animal statues. It always comes back to death and canaries, somehow. Oli can’t figure out how Jimmy keeps getting away with this. He walks slowly, dramatically sweeping around to take everything in. Listening to cherry petals shift under his feet and trying to drown out the phantom sound of explosions in his head. Jimmy has stopped talking, and is staring at him as he wanders. Oli flashes him a smile. Jim just looks apprehensive.

Oli doesn’t blame him. He’s not supposed to be here, even by Grian’s standards. And mathematically, Oli has an infinite amount of kills per death games he’s been in. He’s not a player, and as such he can’t die. He’s immune to Grian’s wildcards and rules. He’s practically a god, in a way, which is not really something he’s ever experienced. It would be more fun if he was allowed to stay. Maybe he can write another song.

Deciding there isn’t much more to look at, Oli turns fully to Jimmy. It’s uncomfortably quiet. Oli is about to make another quip when the silence is broken.

“Oli? What on earth are you doing here?”

If Oli thought seeing Jimmy messed with his head, hearing Lizzie calling out for him is like a shot to the brain. Even so, he can’t help but smile as he turns around to meet her.

“Lizzie!”

She runs up the hill towards him, slightly out of breath, transparent wings twitching in an all too familiar way. She pauses a few paces away, shooting him a grin.

“I knew those stupid snails sounded familiar. Joel recognized you first. How did you even get here?”

Pretending the mention of Joel doesn’t make him want to explode, Oli just shrugs. “Grian invited me. Voiced some snails, made some songs, and thought I’d come by and cause problems before he kicks me out again.”

Lizzie rolls her eyes. “To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t.”

“Well, I am technically God now, so…”

“Is that right.” Smoothing out her dress, Lizzie moves closer, forming a small triangle with the three of them. Jimmy still looks befuddled and Lizzie has that same mischievous glint in her eyes she always does, and Oli is suddenly very homesick. Is that even the right word? Home is where the heart is, or something.

“Yep! 100%, genuine, certified, bona fide God. Can’t die, and my snails wreaked havoc like none other.”

“You’ve got me there.”

“So,” Oli claps his hands together. “This is your guys’s base? Very cherry-esque. Draw inspiration from anyone?”

Lizzie puts her hands on her hips. “Hey! Pink has been my thing since we were kids. Cherry biomes were made for me. I’ve been making cherry wood houses since before your stupid hog.”

“How dare you!” Oli gasps, putting a hand over his chest. “My hog was not stupid, he was magnificent. And pink was my thing too! I had pink hair for a while there, remember?”

“Yeah, cause of me! I’m the only reason you dye your hair at all! And besides, you don’t even die it pink anymore after-”

Lizzie cuts herself off suddenly, eyes wide, and Oli freezes in place. Jimmy looks taken aback by the sudden tension, looking nervously between the two of them.

After what feels like years, Oli exhales. “… Yeah. Alright. Pink is your thing.”

“Oli…”

Oli turns around suddenly, walking purposefully towards the large birds marking the front of their base. He adjusts the little green halo floating just above his hair, which is notably not pink. “These are cute.”

Lizzie, forever hyperaware of Oli’s incessant need to avoid his problems, just sighs. “Aren’t they?”

And just like that, it never even happened. Jimmy eventually realizes he’s never getting any answers, and joins in the banter, helping Lizzie take Oli on an official tour of their base. Eventually Scar returns, resulting in a 20 minute long argument that ends with Lizzie half dragging Oli down the hill and towards the cave BAM has claimed as their own. Lizzie bitterly shows him where her snail first made an attempt on her life, and Oli’s apology is ruined by the fact that he can’t stop snickering.

Eventually Lizzie drags him back up to the surface, and all too fast for Oli’s liking it’s nightfall. Scar unhelpfully comments that they’ll need their sleep to deal with whatever horrors will happen next session, and that Grian will probably be on Oli’s case soon.

Reluctantly, Oli says his goodbyes. And if he hugs Lizzie just a little too long, she doesn’t comment on it. And if his heart isn’t quite in the jokes he makes at Jimmy’s expense, no one says anything.

He doesn’t really know where he’s going. He’s not entirely sure how he got there at all, to be honest. He supposes he’ll have to track down Grian and ask. He doesn’t want to leave, he’s getting awfully tired of finally finding his friends just to lose them again.

Maybe Grian will add him to the next season.

[ro4dlj]

OK. I need to work on my actually big projects and allat but like DOODLES. OK. BYE.

personal designs that I will one day give proper refs okkk byeeestayy fresssh

[caluupin]

Finished TGAAC around 2 1/2 weeks ago but only finished the doodles today. but still, here ya go!

[poisonedfate]

it very much hasn’t healed yet but! here’s the merlin tattoo i’ve been talking about:

bit of an odd angle on this (who knew that taking a pic of my knee would be so hard), so it looks a little wonkier than it actually is, though the reference i chose was like an older looking coin, one that didn’t necessarily resemble a real one, especially not one you would see now, since it wouldn’t have matched my style.

we ended up going for an ‘ornament’, or rather a variation of one, seen in architecture and one that remind me of spears and sword ends etc. for the other side we chose to reference butterfly wings, but, because i wanted it to match/mirror the other, it ended up looking more like a flower in my opinion, which i think is quite cool (nothing if not a big sucker for things that can be seen in different ways).

(overall very happy with it and am still seriously considering just getting a dragon tattoo on its own, i have half a zoo on my body at this point, i might as well continue the theme)

[romance-rambles]

modern clarence | an appropriate staring distance

While at the beach, you take a moment to appreciate your handsome boyfriend while he's taking a nap—and also when he's not.

1.2k, fluff + established relationship, reader is mc, series: none

NAVY BLUE STICKS OUT TO you the moment you open your eyes.

Your aching shoulder protests your decision to stay as you are, on your side, facing a still sleeping Clarence. Like this, he looks much younger—you're reminded of the time you had to force him to take a nap. Like this, he's simply the cute guy you managed to score not one but multiple dates with, just Clarence, instead of the incredibly smart and wonderful and kind Student Council President.

You glance at the circular table set between your two beach chairs, taking note of his glasses resting primly upon its surface. With him often having to juggle two different kinds of glasses, you'd offered to put them in your bag so that he could pack lighter. Or, as light as he can.

Right now, it's awkwardly squished behind you, miraculously still on the chair only because it's too big to fall out the gap under the armrest.

Filling in the blanks comes as easily to you as the smile on your face when you get to see your boyfriend, nearly the same one on your face right now—and the expression that goes with it is so endlessly fond that you find yourself with the urge to hit something.

Simply put, your boyfriend is a handsome man—the most handsome one, of all the men your keen eyes have gazed upon. And gazed, they certainly have. But even if they didn't have to pick, then they would gaze at only Clarence for the rest of their life..

You almost giggle at the thought, but think against it at the last minute.

But pressing your lips firmly into a thin line has the opposite effect on your budding smile. You imagine you look rather strange to anyone who passes by—what with your mockery of a wide smile and the silent scream building up in your throat, paired with the quiet thumping of your feet against the legrest.

If you were in a more private space, you would resort to kicking instead.

A proper squish to your still warm cheeks as you begin to sit up helps ease up the passion swirling chaotically across your body. You exhale, then allow your hands to slide off your face. One side of it bears the consequences of your actions more than the other.

With a one last longing at the sleeping Clarence, you start to dig through your bag for the only thing in your arsenal that could substitute for a sketchbook.

There are a few miscellaneous promotion emails waiting for you on the lockscreen. A message from Cael asking about dinner tomorrow too. Somewhere between them, there's a notice about the weather, with the temperature from an almost hour ago listed uselessly.

You swipe past them all and hurriedly slip into the camera app.

The hand holding your phone steadies itself against the armrest as you swing your legs over the edge of your chair. A thumb hovers over the capture button, vigilantly awaiting your command. The fingers of your other hand, meanwhile, busy themselves with zooming in on the captivating scenery.

With each pinch, the focus grows ever narrow—until all that remains is Clarence and nothing else.

At one point, you try to zoom into the mole under his eye, but it doesn't make for a very compelling photo. After a few attempts, quite a few of which involve staring at your screen for prolonged periods of time, you reluctantly give up.

Your pout is soon covered up by your phone. When its front camera presses against your upper lip, your gaze is free to wander back to the sleeping beauty beside you once more.

A healing effect, exclusive to him, takes hold of you instantaneously.

Eyes brimming with fondness narrow slightly. You slide off your beach chair, hands on your bent knees as you take a closer look. You can make out the shadows cast by his long lashes and the drool dribbling past his chin.

He's perfect.

You're content to stay there until your knees begin to ache, reminding you insistently that this isn't a very comfortable position to be in. As a compromise of some kind, you adjust your arms atop the nearby armrest.

It really would be better if you'd brought your sketchbook along—but, you think, remembering his workaholic tendencies, would he even bother to take a nap then?

You scrunch your nose up at the thought.

In that moment, Clarence seems sense to your presence. When you look back at him, you're greeted with the sight of confusion in his now opened, but still drowsy gaze. He blinks, and it earns him an amused grin from you.

"Morning," you say, though it's well into afternoon.

That seems to wake him up. His cheeks flush a warm pink, and he hurriedly wipes away the drool on his face, as though you haven't already committed the sight to your memory.

Clearing his throat, he responds in kind, careful to sit up in such a way that he avoids looking at you.

"You don't have to be so close...I can see you just fine."

You laugh, not unkindly. "What if I'm the one who's having trouble?"

For a moment, when he turns back to look at you, he looks alarmed. Then, his shoulders relax to the tune of a sigh, his groggy mind apparently having caught onto the fact that you were joking.

Without breaking eye contact, you reach for his glasses. But as with the issue of walking into a cave without a flashlight, even if you vaguely recall where your destination is, there's no guarantee you'll actually reach it.

"Give me a second," you mutter, your annoyance making your tone a bit too sharp.

You follow your words up with an apology. His glasses held are carefully by the frames as your sheepish gaze connects with his faintly amused one. Clarence reaches out, getting as far as grasping the slanted tips of the frame before the two of you reach a mutual agreement.

"Well." His cheeks return to being a rosy hue. He coughs politely. "If you would."

Cute. Biting your lip giddily, you shake his grip off. A quick once-over of your surroundings before you stand up shows that no one seems to be paying attention to you. And unless your friends and acquaintences have come to together to unlock the secrets of invisibility, no one you know seems to be present either.

Leaning over, you line his glasses up against his face, the tips of his frame brushing against his cheek. It takes only a moment to slot them into place—and you have enough experience with doing so that they don't snag against his ears.

It takes only a moment longer to give him an innocent peck on the lips.

"There," you murmur, not entirely satisfied with the kiss.

His Adam's apple bobs. Clarence adjusts his glasses with an awkward look that suggests he has some kind of solution to your dilemma. You, of course, beat him to the punch.

"Why—" Your voice cracks a little. "—don't we go find a different spot?"

He smiles, narrowed eyes watching you fondly. "I was about to suggest the same thing."

[pseudo-hero]

Quick Animated Character Appreciation: ROTSM Kon-El Gives Me HEART ATTACK

Have I made it clear yet how much I enjoy this version of Kon-El? I don't think I have: This sugar-high-on-a-1000, raging-hormone/in-puberty, outdated slang-having, cocky kid was the best thing from the Reign of the Supermen movie and the entirety of that two-parter saga. He was such an adorably annoying little showoff and hustler (at least at one point with Clark) who you could tell had mountains more of depth beneath the surface just waiting to jump out! Perfect combination of Clark/Superman and Lex Luthor in every way, too! I love, love, loved it! He was exactly how the character should ideally be written and portrayed imo! (Side Note: Look at the tears that the girl behind him to our right [in the second image] is shedding! She adores this Kon-El that much. And I don't blame her!)

Superboy to a not-actually-dead Superman a few minutes after meeting him: *Probably dumps his ocean-sized amount of trauma onto him which Lex has already put him through in the short amount of time that he and Lex have known each other and been in contact* "...Seriously. A room full of hungry...bizarros."

A "resurrected", oddly calm yet probably very concerned Superman: "Sounds harrowing."

Superboy, now seeing his chance to hustle a new home with his other dad: "Soo, can I live with you or not?"

Superman with months-worth of 5 o' clock shadow: *Doesn't even get a chance to think it over yet, much less respond, due to them being interrupted by Steel The Third Wheel (but also doesn't say no)*

Gosh I'm so sad/mad we'll never get see him in Superman Media again because they permanently deaded that universe!! 🥺 (Plus they forced us to watch him get slaughtered!!!! 😩) I won't forget him anytime soon though!! He'll stay in my primary color-painted heart!!!! 💛❤️💙

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

heya, i have to wake up in three hours but! here's another lil human au snippet! ft. lightly implied Laughingstock! disclaimer i am so so tired so don't come at me for typos or strangely worded sentences or missing info <3

~

Before heading home, Eddie swings by a charming little store he’s been to once or twice before. He usually goes to the chain store by his house, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the hustle and bustle and the endless aisles. This little store is quiet, nice, and strangely has everything anyone could need. 

The lot is mostly empty at this hour, so Eddie claims a spot right at the front. As with the other times, the windows are littered with displays and stickers - half off on this, sale on that. Eddie enters Howdy’s Place with the chime of the door’s shopkeeper’s bell. He’ll get what he needs and get out, quick and easy and peacefu-

Boisterous laughter slams into Eddie like a hammer, so sudden that he jumps in place. An employee stocking cans nearby glances weirdly at him. Eddie clears his throat and hurries into the nearest aisle as the laughter tapers off. The silence barely lasts a second before loud chatter starts up. It’s too fast and muffled for Eddie to understand, but he can pick out two distinct voices - one deep, one less so but still decidedly masculine. 

Eddie tries to tune it out as he gathers what he needs. Toothpaste, some paper towels, shampoo. For the hell of it, he nabs a box of classic bran muffins from the spacious food section. He lingers for a moment, enjoying how far-away the conversation seems at the other corner of the store. Unfortunately, theft is illegal, so Eddie is forced to move towards the noise.

A strange thing about the store - it’s a combination general store, antique shop, and diner, complete with a miniature gift shop separating the two. One long checkout counter stretches from the open store area, behind the gift shop, and into the diner, where the conversation is coming from. An interesting setup, but an understandable one. It allows anyone behind the counter to move fluidly between customers and sections.

As Eddie approaches, the conversation becomes slightly clearer. 

“-said, no wonder you didn’t get her number!” the deeper voice barks, and the two dissolve into that almost-too-loud laughter again. 

As it tapers off, the other voice says, “Sounds like a real charmer! But really, you oughta be careful, Barn. One of these days someone’s gonna throw a right hook at ya.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. A transatlantic accent? He hasn’t heard that anywhere outside of real old movies and a queen he once knew. It sounds natural too, like the man was born to sound like he belongs on a 1920s radio show. It nudges something in the back of Eddie’s mind. He’s started to get really sick of that nudge.

“Oh, this guy did.”

“No kidding? I don’t see a shiner.”

“Well, yeah. I went left.”

Both of them laugh again, and Eddie feels a tiny tug at the corner of his mouth. That wasn’t funny enough to garner an actual laugh in his opinion, but it wasn’t unfunny. 

Eddie steps up to the counter and quietly puts his acquired items on it, not wanting to interrupt. He chances a glance to the side - walking space in front of the counter’s length lets him see right down into the diner.

A large man with dyed-blue hair and an interesting fashion sense is at the bar, talking to an employee leaning against the other side. The employee doesn’t really catch Eddie’s gaze, but the other man… Eddie swears he’s seen him before. He studies him from the corner of his eye, not wanting to be rude but unable to mind his business. 

“Our bouncer didn’t even get a chance at the action - the idiot knocked himself out tryin’ a second swing!” The customer says. His deep voice, wavering with humor, only adds to the sense of familiarity. Metal glints in his right ear. Eddie knows this man from somewhere.

The employee shakes his head, tutting. His busy hands polish a vintage pitcher. “I swear, you get all the crazies.”

“Makes for a good story, though.” The customer takes a sip from his tall milkshake and scoffs. “Though if it wasn’t all well-ending, amusing bull, I doubt I’d be so tolerant.”

Minutes drag by as the two keep talking. Eddie goes from patiently waiting to awkwardly trying to get the employees attention. If only there was someone else behind the counter, but the only other staff member is elsewhere, likely still stocking shelves. 

The two men are too absorbed in their little world, even though both are facing Eddie’s way. The customer has both elbows on the counter, one of them bent to prop up his chin. The employee has his hip leaned against the edge as they chat. They’re obviously very familiar with each other, and clearly deeply enjoy each other's company. 

Still - and Eddie is sorry to say, but it’s bad customer service. He’s not in a rush, but he’d still like to be on his way home. He could be fishing out the complex keys right now. He checks his phone - he’s been here for nearly fifteen minutes. Picking out the items took less than five. 

Eddie sighs, staring at the various cigarette packs displayed behind the counter. He’s never seen the appeal in smoking, but as the laughter starts up again, he almost wishes he did. He’s going to treat himself to a very long shower once he gets home. 

The store’s other employee walks behind the counter, carrying a box. Eddie lights up. Finally - she pointedly clears her throat and heads into the back. 

The constant conversation stalls for the barest moment, and he looks over. The customer grins at him for a second - lord he’s handsome - before turning that grin towards his friend.

“You’re losin’ your touch, Howds,” he teases, bringing his shake straw to his lips.

“I resent that statement. You’re just distracting.”

“Lil’ me? Distracting? C’mon, you can just tell me I’m pretty to my face. I’ll take it like a champ, I swear!”

“Ha, good try.” The employee sets the pitcher down and starts to mosey in Eddie’s direction. “Your ego is big enough for the both of us as is. One more compliment and your head’ll pop like a balloon.”

“Well, given that most balloons don’t really pop, they just kinda deflate slowly-”

“Sorry for the wait!” the employee says loudly in a glaringly obvious customer service tone. He stops in front of Eddie with a cardboard smile. At the other end of the counter, the familiar man snickers and hides his grin behind his drink. “I trust you found everything you did - and didn’t! - need.”

Eddie just stares up at him for a moment. At six-one, Eddie hasn’t felt small in a very long time. He usually stands at least a full inch above other people. This employee - Howdy, his name tag states - has several more on him.

“Uh, y-yes, I uh, I did,” Eddie stammers, glancing at his items. 

“Wonderful! And again, my sincerest apologies for the delay. My friend makes a game out of keeping me from my job.” Howdy shoots his ‘friend’ a glare with enough heat in it to make an ice cube sweat. 

“No worries.”

Howdy scans the items at an almost frightening speed. Beep, into a paper bag. Beep, in. Beep, beep - “Oh, no.”

“What?” Eddie says, dread plucking at his ribs as Howdy holds the bran muffins and shakes his head. “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

“Indeed there is! You’re making a mistake with these. They’re absolutely horrible, I tell ya - and bad for you, too!” Howdy tuts and puts the box to the side. “No, no, you don’t want those.”

“I… don’t?”

“Not if you knew better! Lucky for you, I’m here to set you straight. What you need is-” he snaps his fingers, “Barnaby, be a pal and-”

“Already on it,” ‘Barnaby’ says, appearing next to Eddie.

If Eddie weren’t already paralyzed, he’d jump right out of his skin from how Barnaby towers over him. He has to be a scant inch or so shorter than Howdy, but he still makes Eddie feel tiny. Unfortunately, Barnaby is even more handsome up close. 

“Here ya go.” Barnaby hands a plastic container to Howdy and taps it, smiling lazily down at Eddie. “I’d take his advice on this one. Those bran-named muffins may sound fancy, but they’re pretty crumby! You want muffins of quality. Real breadwinners!

Eddie can’t help a soft laugh. “Breadwinners, heh, that’s a good one.”

“Are you selling these or am I?” Howdy says, raising a bushy eyebrow. 

“Hey, I’m just doin’ what you asked! I’m bein’ a pal.”

“And I - I’m sorry," Eddie interjects, "but you’re awfully familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Eh, I’ve been around, but uh… you ever been to [INSERT GAY BAR NAME HERE]?”

Howdy clears his throat. “I’m trying to make a sale here, Barn. You can flirt on your own dime when you’re not costing me mine.”

“Didja know your nose gets redder when you’re jealous?”

Howdy rolls his eyes and shoves Barnaby in the diner’s direction. Barnaby goes with a hearty snicker. Despite the joke, Eddie thinks it has some merit as Howdy scans the final item and rings him up, considerably frostier than before.

Belatedly, Eddie realizes that he didn’t actually agree to the different muffins. Too late now. “Say, what kind of muffins are those?”

“Poppyseed-lemon.”

Eddie relaxes - that is a lot better than boring bran. “Y’know, my mother loved poppyseed-lemon muffins.”

“Did she now,” Howdy drawls.

“Like you wouldn’t believe! If baking was so much as mentioned, she’d jump right on houndin’ us to whip some up for her, or send us to go buy some. We’d never even get a taste! They’d be gone the moment they hit the air, I tell ya.” Eddie chuckles. “Took me a while to understand what all the fuss is about, but man was she right. They are good!”

“Uh-huh. Well, we have a fresh batch delivered every morning. They’re not the same type every time, mind you, but I can promise that they’re all of the highest quality.”

“Breadwinners, right?” Eddie jokes. Howdy doesn’t blink, but Barnaby snorts. He’ll take it. “I might have to come by more often, if that’s the case! Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Mhm, have a good day.” Howdy hands him the bag and strides away without a glance. The dismissal is clear as day. “Say, Barn, did you hear about the racket one of those cult crackpots stirred up at our dear friend’s tearoom?”

Eddie doesn’t catch the tail-end of the sentence as he hurries away, but he frowns. Cult? What cult? There’s a cult? He certainly didn’t hear of one before moving here, and none of his background checks had turned up anything of the sort. He hopes it was just a figure of speech. 

The door chimes again as Eddie leaves. It isn’t until he’s in his car that the embarrassment of that whole exchange catches up with him. If he had a nickel for every time he’d made a fool of himself in front of a gorgeous, strangely familiar man, he’d have three nickels. At the rate he’s going, he’ll either be rich, or he’ll have to move. 

Eddie subtly tries to peek around the store’s window displays from the safety of his car. He catches a scant glimpse of blue hair - come to think of it, it’s a similar shade to Wally’s. But where Wally’s had, to Eddie’s memory, been uniformly dyed right down to his eyebrows, Barnaby’s rich brown roots were obvious. His beard and eyebrows weren’t dyed, either. 

As Eddie relaxes back into his seat, he re-reads at the store’s name. The color drains from his face and he barely restrains himself from slamming his forehead against the steering wheel.

Oh, of course. Of course he made a fool of himself in front of the owner. Eddie can never come back here again. And it was such a nice store…

[ultrainfinitepit]

52% Charity

52%. If they could stay at one age forever, which age would they choose and why?

Charity is physically grown-up during the events of Baldur's Gate 3, but in elven terms, she is still very young, basically fresh out of college. Even Charity recognizes she still has a lot of actual growing-up to do, which happens over the course of the game and beyond. The current iteration of Charity being so young still, would be unsure of how to answer this and know only that she would want to be older!

But after some more living, if she had a choice she'd choose to stay right around her prime age of 100 years old. By then she is old enough to be respectable but still young and spry.

Charity is unafraid of aging or death, these are important parts of life as dictated by her faith. On the other hand, her immortal and eternally youthful paramour would enjoy this hypothetical a lot and is actively looking for ways to make it a reality!

This beautiful art of Charity is by @malak-ballari ✨

[lawsofchaos1]

Seven Sentence Sunday: No Greater Love (the coda fic)

Tagged by @echo-bleu (I still totally missed Sunday oops)

This is from one of my current, unpublished WIPs, a coda fic for Greater Love Hath No Man (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32754592)

Alec's parabatai is next to him, the two of them barely fitting in the booth side by side with Max still clutched in Alec’s arms, but the thought of relinquishing his grip makes Alec’s heart pound in his chest, cold sweat threatening to break out even as his wrist pulses in agonizing memory. 

His son was dead and has been returned to him and Alec can’t process this, can’t believe it, not yet - not after the days and weeks and months that he’s lived knowing that he’d never see his son again. Not after the months of knowing that the closest he’d ever get to the child he raised and loved was in the reports that crossed his desk from the Downworld.

It’s all Alec can do to keep breathing, to keep air going in and out of his lungs as he feels the steady thump of Max’s heart against his chest. Jace must be able to feel the way time is going liquid in Alec’s mind, streaking bright smears across his sight, because he’s effortlessly controlling the conversation in the way he only does on the rare occasions Alec needs a shield.

Jace’s focus doesn’t waver from Magnus and Catarina across from them, but a single hand slips under the table and lands heavily on Alec’s thigh, fingers gripping tightly enough to ground Alec even without the sharp brightness of broken skin that Alec guiltily prefers.

Slowly, sounds begin to sink down from the distant buzz, coalescing into distinguishable words just in time for Max to twist in Alec’s lap.

Tagging: @dr-lemurr (fanart snippet?), @to-the-stars-writing @alexanderlightweight @arialerendeair @clinical-chaos

[xenetala]

The Ring Girl

Read on AO3

Summary: You just got a job as an announcer at the famed Heaven's Arena, but the idea of sitting in a box and giving idiotic commentary didn't sound appealing. So, you decide to spice things up. With your showmanship, ringleader-themed outfit, and charisma you decide to take center stand and act as both announcer and judge. You don't expect to gain much from the first fight you are assigned to, but the promising allure of the red-headed fighter you ran into might just provide you the 'spice' you need.

Advisements: Explicit content, female reader, and that's about it. This is super vanilla, but please be sure to read the tags in case there's something you might not be interested in.

            The elevator made its way slowly up the tower to the two-hundredth floor. You crossed your arms and leaned against the polished metal of the elevator walls and watched as each floor number slowly ticked up. Heaven’s Arena was a place where people addicted to battle met and tested their skills. It was also your newest place of work.

            There were many opportunities for jobs if you knew how to use nen, but the most common path people like you took was to become a Hunter. While the occupation was not without its perks, you weren’t fully sold on the idea of getting the license required for the job.

            Instead, you’d taken a job at the world’s tallest battle tower. The idea of fighting in the ring had occurred to you, but your nen ability wasn’t the best for a straight fight. Your skills were better suited for less head-on or one-to-one combat. Not that your ability was weak, it just shined in other areas more.

            You were slated to be an announcer for the fights. Normally the announcer sat in a box above the ring for the commentary, but you opted to test the waters of the audience and planned to stand in the ring and commentate that way. You even had the uniform tailored to something akin to the style of a circus ringmaster.

            If you were going to be forced to wear the gaudy pink and garish yellow combination, you were going to own the outfit. The top with the fist emblem of the tower cut at your midsection and the back ran like a tailcoat behind the very short pleated skirt. Thigh-high boots that matched the modified uniform along with some artfully added sequence completed the outfit. You had thought about leaving off the silly little cap that you were supposed to wear, but since a circus ringmaster was the inspiration for your outfit then just making the cap into a top hat became your choice.

            The owner of the tower hadn’t seen your modifications to the uniform, but that didn’t matter. You were confident that if you could pump up ticket sales to even the most obscure fights, then the owner wouldn’t care as much about what you dressed like. And, that was exactly your plan. As an announcer, you got a cut of the ticket sales and if you could get people to come to fights for your commentary as much as for the fight itself, then that would increase the sales.

            Finally, the elevator made it to the two-hundredth floor and the double doors opened. You stepped from the doors and made your way down the halls to the arena. The fight slated for today was Chibaba versus Maita. From what you saw of their previous fights and records, neither fighter was much to write home about.

            Neither of them were nen users and had only recently made it to the two hundredth floor. How they’d made it so far was a mystery to you, but it was probably for the best that they fought each other before the nen users on the floor. Initiation was not something pleasant and if they were lucky neither of them would be able to fight for a while after the match and could watch other fights to see exactly the world they were stepping into.

            On the other hand, maybe knocking out the weaker ones sooner was better in the long run. It wasn’t bad to know your place. At least such a lackluster fight would give you the perfect opportunity to showcase what you could bring to the table. You walked down the hall while lost in thought about how you were going to pull things off when you almost ran smack into someone.

            If not for your ability to sense the nen of others and quick reflexes, you would have assuredly bumped right into the person in question. “I apologize for that. I was not paying attention.” You dipped a perfect customer service bow before looking up to meet the golden eyes of the person you’d almost collided with. The person before you was a man dressed in a showman’s outfit, much to your delight. It was hard to place if the outfit was more circus magician-themed or court jester, but who were you to judge? After all you were wearing an outfit that was clearly taken right from the circus fashion book.

            The man’s eyes looked over your outfit appreciatively and you held back a smirk of pride. Part of your planning in the outfit was to use your sex to attract some attention and if this man’s look was anything to go by, you were succeeding beautifully. “The logo on that outfit says you are an employee here, but that’s not a typical uniform.” There was a pleasant vibrato in his voice that sent a slight shiver up your spine.

            This man knew how to be alluring. “It’s my first day here, but I’m going to be announcing fights and thought I’d bring a little more” You paused for dramatic effect. “spice to the arena.” A slight smirk spread across your lips as you did a little pirouette complete with a slight tip of your top hat and a wink to show off your outfit. Nothing like some extra appreciation to boost your confidence and you had some time to spare with this gentleman. “What do you think? Too much?”

            He looked at your outfit critically for a moment and your evaluation of him went up a bit more. Not only could he appreciate the form-fitting nature of your outfit, but he could maintain professionalism. This made you take a bit closer look at him.  Flaming red hair complimented by the red and black top, brilliant golden eyes highlighted by gold accents, bare arms that showed off his perfect biceps; the man was a looker in his own right and you were sorely tempted to ask for his contact information for later.

            “It’s quite eye catching and will certainly ‘spice’ things up as you put it.” There was a mischievous spark in his features as he looked you over a bit more intently. He must have decided to try catching your eye and as a nen user you could sense the beginnings of battle lust emanating from him as well as recognize he was a very well versed nen user. Perhaps more well versed than you. Now seemed like a good time to make your exit and head to the arena.

            With another quick bow, you excused yourself and made your way down to the ring scheduled for the combatants. Normally the announcer would make their way upstairs to a viewing box, but for today you were making your way through the halls between the bleachers to the center ring.

            To make sure you had everything set the way you wanted, you’d even bribed the judge to be absent today. This would mean you could not only comment on the fight, but decide the points. At least as long as the fight wasn’t too closely monitored by the higher ups, you should be able to smoothly achieve your goal.

            You put on your headset as you walked to the end of the entryway and took a deep breath. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Heavens Arena!” With your arms outstretched, you sauntered your way to the center stage and stepped onto the platform. Though the crowd was small, you heard some cheers and a few cat calls as you stood made your way to the center.

            Any attention right now was good. Even minor fights were broadcast throughout the tower and people could purchase tickets during the fight provided seats were open. If a few more spectators were to show up after seeing a girl in alluring attire take to the floor, then that worked out nicely. You wanted people to be interested in seeing you more than they were in the fight. This would assure you had a continued job at the arena.

            With a practiced flourished bow, you introduced yourself as the announcer and judge. There were a few mixed calls of appreciation and disgruntlement, but since this was a minor fight no one really voiced any loud complaints. Many of those who watch fights like this can’t get tickets to the showcase matches and just want to be able to brag to their friends that they watched a battle here.

            “Fighting for your viewing pleasure today is the brick wall, Maita!” You introduced the first contestant with the moniker you mad up for him and incited a few cheers. To further elicit a reaction, you released your nen ability to showcase an illusion of Miata shattering a solid wall simply by walking through it. There were some more hoots from the crowd and you felt the pleasure of your growing success.

“Versus the whippy Chibaba!” The second contestant incited a few more cheers than the first and like you did for the first contestant, you cast an illusion across the field of vine like whips cracking around Chibaba. The overall effect certainly got the crowd to pay attention a bit more than they normally would to some no name combatants. “Today is a rematch from their fifty fifth floor battle. Last time Maita was victorious, but will he be able to hold onto that win today?”

            A few calls for one or the other of the contestants to win carried across the field as each fighter took their place. Both men seemed to ignore your antics and just solemnly focused on their opponents. Must be some bad blood there. While they made their way up the platform, you to the brief pause to check out the crowd. Much to your delight there were several more seats filled. Either the theatrics you played at with your ability or the allure of your womanly charms drew them in. Whichever it was didn’t matter to you. A bigger audience meant a bigger pay day.

            Just as your eyes were finishing scanning the audience, the deep red hair of the man you encountered in the hallway caught your eye. You smiled broadly as your eyes met and you gave him a flirtatious wink. If nothing else, you hoped he’d at least spread word that a sultry ring girl’s theatrics made the lesser fights more enjoyable and thus bring in more spectators.

            Once the fighters were in their spots, you raised your hand in the air and looked at each one in turn. “Are you ready?” A slight dramatic pause for affect before bringing your hand down, and you shouted the go ahead. “Fight!” With that last word, you jumped back to the edge of the ring with a speed just enough above the normal person to prove your point that you weren’t an ordinary announcer, but also not too fast for the average person to miss your movements.

            The two men in the center of the stage looked at each other for a minute before the fight began. As you’d already knew, their moves were basic and not much to show for a fight as would be expected at this level. After some research into the arena and its fighters, you were surprised the ‘rookie crusher trio’ hadn’t gotten to these two yet. It didn’t matter though. This pair would eventually learn the hard way what nen was as long as they fought on the two hundredth floor.

            Fighters in position, you raised your hand and started the signal for the fight to begin. “Ready!” You brought your arm down. “Fight!” The second the last syllable left your lips, you jumped back a few paces. You calculated your backsteps to show a hint of your own prowess, but not so much that it’d draw too much attention from the fight. Gotta have a little mystery and charm to draw people back.

            Maita, an obvious wrestling type, rushed in for a quick takedown move, but Chibaba was ready for him. A quick glint of something from Chibaba’s sleeve caught your eye and you smirked. There would be blood in this fight. “Maita rushing in for a no holds bared take down move!” You shouted just before the wrestler would connect with the smaller man.

            Chibaba ducked with the agility of his smaller frame and flicked his wrist just as he avoided the grappling move. “Clean hit! One point!” You shouted as the hidden knife nicked the larger man’s side. The wound wasn’t deep enough to cause real damage or be much of a threat, but it was more exciting than basic maneuvers. “Our quick whip is out for blood this time!” The video screens above you showed the clip of the hit as the two contestants circled each other.

            Several cheers erupted from the slightly larger crowd and you smiled to yourself. A quick scan of the audience showed that sure enough a few more nen users had entered the stands. The must have seen your nen powered theatrics. It was time to spice things up a bit more.

            This time Chibaba took the initiative and rushed in for a quick knife jab, but Maita sidestepped and brought his arm down to grapple the smaller mans. You flashed an illusion of a vine like whip cracking against a brick wall to no avail. “Chibaba making a valiant effort to score on his opponent, but can a whip crack the surface of a brick wall?” Your voice carried across the arena while Maita tried to get Chibaba off balance enough to further grapple him.

            Several people in the crowd voiced their comments and cheered on the fighter they most likely placed their bets for. One person in the crowd clearly wasn’t interested in the duo battling it out on the floor, but rather interested in you. The eyes of the man from the hallway caught yours every time you scanned the crowd to gauge their reaction and you had the suspicion that his eyes had never been on the fight to begin with.

            After several seconds of the fighters stepping around each other, Maita succeeded in throwing Chibaba off balance. The larger man caught the smaller man in a grapple that lifted him up. “A powerbomb from Maita! Clean hit and down! Two points!” You’d call out as the body of Chibaba hit the floor. The crowd cheered and your illusion mimed that of a wall falling on the whip to smash it. The smaller man laid in place for a moment and you started the countdown.

            You got to the count of three before Chibaba sat up and signaled he could still fight. Perhaps you should have called a critical hit instead of just a clean hit, but where would the fun be in that? Besides there were no objections from the audience so you disregarded the should haves.

            The fight continued with the similar basic moves and the only real excitement being your showmanship. Before the end of the fight, the stadium did fill in a bit more and people responded to your callouts with moderate fervor. Not the turnout you would have liked, but considering what you were working with the results were acceptable. Either audience members had contacted friends to tell them there was an interesting show going on, or they saw the monitors around the building and thought it might be worth it to catch the show. No matter the reason, it was more people to potentially spread the word about you.

            Several more minutes ticked on before the fight ended. The final tally was ten to six Maita was the winner. Despite Chibaba’s advantage in maneuverability and having a weapon, Maita had more experience and was able to win the fight with a critical and down. “And we have our winner! Maita the brick wall!” You use your nen to flash the now symbolic wall smacking down the whip several times over in commemoration of the victor and managed to get some decent cheers from the crowd for him.

            Neither of the fighters were too seriously injured, but there were broken bones and some pretty deep knife wounds. The men could still stand well enough and limped their way off the stage. You weren’t sure if you hoped they’d have the sense to watch other fights and give up on their battle endeavors, or if you wanted them to experience their weaknesses firsthand. “Thank you everyone for joining us today. Until next time!” You gave a deep, flourished bow and used your ability to create a pouf of brightly colored smoke.

            Leaving the audience distracted by the smokescreen, you made a full quick exit from the stage. Nothing like a little ‘magic’ at the end to round things out. All in all, you felt today was a success. The fight was about as anticlimactic as you expected, but you were able to add a bit of flare and drama to things. Things turned out about as well as you’d hoped and the ticket sales went up considerably.

            Lost in your thoughts, you almost didn’t feel the presence walking up behind you. A smile crossed your lips as you called out, “So we meet again.” You turned your head to acknowledge the red-haired man from before.

            “A lucky coincidence.” His voice was sultry and his eyes had a predatory glow to them. You couldn’t decide if he was just flowing with battle lust or lust in general.

            “So it would seem.” You turned to give him a cute smile. “What did you think of my little show?”

            “It was entertaining. You have decent showmanship and your use of nen was well timed.” The man started an honest critique and you listened intently. “However the choice of a wall and a whip were poor match-up ideas.”

            You let out a sigh. “I felt that too. Thank you for your honest feedback. I struggled with how to portray the two. They aren’t ready for the level of combat here and there’s nothing of note in their repertoire.” Your voice was almost defeated. The two fighters were the worst pair to have as a first match and you figured you were assigned to it because you were new.

            “The fighters have little potential and I’d be hard-pressed to make something entertaining out of that.” The man admitted with a teasing smile.

            The redhead did seem like someone very familiar with showmanship based on his comments and mode of dress. You hesitated on asking if he’d be willing to share some of his experiences in the spotlight. Perhaps it was best you just reviewed the video recording for self-analysis before calling it a day instead of bothering this attractive gentleman before you.

            “I thank you again for your insight.” You gave a flourishing bow before turning to head back to the room you occupied.

            “Would you like to further discuss your performance over dinner tonight?” The invite was full of insinuation and you were not at all opposed. It’d been a while since you’d had an alluring gentleman ask for your company. Too many of the men you’d met in your life took one issue or other with a woman being able to fight.

            With an inviting smile, you nodded and agreed to meet him at his room in a few hours. Before walking away you realized neither of you had introduced yourselves and with a bit of flowery flare with your nen, you rectified that.

            “Hisoka.” The man gave his name and bowed as he disappeared in a flurry of cards. He was good. Very good. You were looking forward to this evening and though meeting a man like him at his door wasn’t normally a smart idea, you did have ways to defend yourself and you wouldn’t be opposed to more intimate interactions if he wanted.

            You made your way to the floor dedicated to employee housing. The battle tower hosted many floors and fighters alike. Each fighter after proving themselves earned private rooms that were more luxurious than many of the most expensive high-rise apartments. Employees weren’t afforded the nicest rooms the tower offered, but having a full view of the city below wasn’t that big of a deal.

            The quarters assigned to you were more than adequate. You had a decent window and a bedroom large enough to house a king-sized bed. There was a little nook for reading or whatever hobby you chose, a small but adequate kitchen, and good good-sized bathroom. It was clean, it was comfortable, and best of all, free.

            Once inside the privacy of your quarters, you removed your show clothes and tossed them on the bed. They’d need to be washed, but you could do that later. You had created a few different outfits to wear that were the same style, just different combinations of the color scheme so that you didn’t have to wash the same outfit every day.

            If you were successful in getting more battle announcement jobs, perhaps you could change things up more. For now, you needed to be recognizable and have a signature that people would recognize even if you changed other aspects of your routines.

            Relieved of your clothing, you headed to the bathroom for a good shower and to plan your outfit for the evening. As the water ran over your body, you thought about how you wanted to present yourself to Hisoka tonight. You could continue to use your cute, flirty stage persona, or you could reveal your off-the-stage self.

            It was hard to say if he would let down his stage self, and you rather expected that the showman was as much himself as it was his fighter persona. Parts of your real self did reflect in your stage self, but there was still a distinction.

            After some debate and sorting out several outfits in your wardrobe, you decided to go with something that had a bit of flare and was more relaxed. You could feel out Hisoka and see if this was just a dinner date, or if his allusions to more were not just him being a stage flirt.

            You pulled on a pair of fashionably tattered jeans to match a crop top ending in fringe. A little spin in front of the mirror to see how the outfit looked and you were satisfied. Enough ‘show’ to give the illusion that your stage persona still worked in your social life, but also that illusion of seeing you off the stage.

            A pair of loose boots with a slight heel completed the ensemble as you headed out your door. You opted to leave your hair down for this as you didn’t want to go to the effort of putting it up and your makeup took more time than you expected. A muted version of what you had on for the show.

            You made your way down the hall and to the elevator. With a bit of excitement, you pressed the button to Hisoka’s floor and leaned against the back of the elevator as it made its way up. Once the doors opened, you casually stepped out and made your way down the hall.

            Hisoka’s room was at the end and was one of the nicer ones reserved for the combatants of higher fame. He probably had a full view of the city and nicer amenities in his lodgings. As his door came into view, you wondered briefly if employees were allowed to share housing quarters with the fighters.

            You knocked lightly on the door and announced yourself. He probably already knew you were there even before you got off the elevator. You hadn’t been hiding your presence and the man was too versed in nen not to be alert at all times.

            With a soft click, the door opened, and a small part of you was disappointed to see that he still wore his jester-style outfit and makeup. But, you weren’t entirely surprised. It would take a lot for someone like him to let down his guard and show his true self. He might even be excentric enough that this was his true self. Whatever the reason, he was attractive as is and you suspected he was the type to be attractive in just about anything.

            He eyed your ensemble appreciably before opening the door to allow you entry. You gave him a mildly flirtatious smile as you walked past. Along the far wall of his quarters were floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned the full wall. It was early evening, but the view of the approaching sunset was beautiful.

            “I thought it’d make a pleasant view while we ate.” His footsteps made no noise on the floor as he moved to your side and looked out over the scenery.

            “It’s a spectacular view.” You gave your honest opinion. The room was high enough up that you could see over the top of every other building in the city. It was a really glamorous suite.

            The scent of steak wafted your way before you finally tore your eyes from the view. You turned to see Hisoka setting a table just big enough for two. There were two plates of finely grilled steaks, sauteed vegetables, and red wine. A smile crossed your lips. The meal somehow fit him and though it was obvious he didn’t cook it, it was equally obvious that this wasn’t some cheap order in meal.

            You sat down at the table with Hisoka and engaged in a pleasant conversation about your earlier performance. The man had some good insight and you had fun discussing the nuances of showmanship.

            The sunset proved to be the most gorgeous you’d ever seen and you thanked your host profusely for the privilege of seeing it. He smirked slightly and stated that seeing it with a beautiful woman made it equally beautiful.

            Once you were finished with the meal, you began to clear the table more out of habit than anything else. Living alone for your adulthood made you self-sufficient and habitually did things on your own. Hisoka observed this. “You are a specialist.”

            His remark caught you off guard. Most people thought you were a manipulator or a conjuror. Very few if any ever made the connection that your ability wasn’t just about creating an illusion from your nen or conjuring light shows. You took a moment while putting the dishes in the dishwasher before replying. “What makes you think that?”

            “You are independent and charismatic.” His reply was simple and left you with more questions than answers.

            You finished putting the dishes in the washer and started it before turning to look at him. His eyes were observing you and somehow you felt he wasn’t just seeing you, but looking right through you. “Are you saying you think my personality means I’m a nen specialist?” You looked at him skeptically.

            “Yes. I find people’s personalities match their nen type.” He gave you a flirtatious smile. You really couldn’t argue with him since he had accurately guessed what your nen type was, but you didn’t want to confirm it for him. Admitting made you feel somehow vulnerable. “So, am I right?”

            He was teasing you and you didn’t like that. You had no idea what his nen type was or even his abilities. You knew he was a very skilled user from the demeanor and temperance of his nen. Suddenly a thought crossed your mind. You had a rather attractive male before you and the perfect opportunity to save yourself some face.

            A sultry smile crossed your face. “I’ll tell you if you can kiss better than anyone I’ve kissed before.” This would be an easy win. All you had to do was tell him he wasn’t the best kisser you’ve met even if it wasn’t true.

            Hisoka’s eyes practically glowed at your suggestion and you could see the lust in them. You felt your battle was already won and stood still as he got up from the chair and confidently walked toward you. His fingers gently lifted your chin as his lips met yours.

            You could taste the wine still on those lips and when his tongue ran over yours, you parted them for him. He put his arm around you and pulled you close to his firm body. You knew he was muscular, but feeling the battle-hardened muscles against your body lit a fire in your belly.

            His tongue explored your mouth, ran over your teeth, and tangled with your tongue. This kiss was hot and irresistible. Hisoka rubbed his thumb along the small of your back and pressed your hips against his. You could feel his erection against your body and you moaned softly into the kiss before he broke it.

            “Well?” His voice dripped with a lust matched by the intense gaze he gave you.

            “I think I need another.” You weren’t thinking of winning this little game of yours anymore. The man knew how to kiss and now you wanted to know just how much he knew about pleasing a woman. Before he could protest, you stood on your toes and pressed your lips to his.

            Your hands slid up his chest and you looped your arms around his neck. Hisoka parted his lips for you and allowed you a deep, passionate kiss once more. This time, he moved his hand from the small of your back down to your tight bottom. He caressed it through your jeans before giving a good squeeze and earning another moan from you.

            Hisoka broke the kiss once more and guided you to the bed. His intent matched your desire and you tugged at his top to remove it. The redhead allowed you to pull off his shirt and the sight before you brought a fire in your core. His body was perfectly sculpted and his muscles rippled with each of his movements.

            In turn, he pulled your crop top over your head before leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss was again deep and full of desire. Your breaths mingled together as his hand slid down your side, behind your back, and unhooked your bra. With practiced ease, he removed your undergarment and cupped your supple breast.

            His thumb twirled teasingly over the hardened nipple and you let out a soft moan. You pressed your hips to him as your need began to grow. Hisoka broke the kiss to draw his lips down your jaw and to your neck. He planted a few light kisses there before softly biting your tender flesh.

            He worked his way along your neck and down to your shoulder. You moaned softly and reached your hand to the hard bulge of his member. Your hands kneaded and rubbed him through the fabric and he growled in pleasure.

            The two of you continued exploring each other's bodies until neither of you could take much more. Your hands tugged at his pants and he kicked off his shoes before helping you remove them. The fighter pulled off your boots before undoing your jeans and sliding them off. You were unsurprised to find the man did not wear any undergarments and shimmied out of your own.

            Both of you admired each other’s naked form before you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into one more kiss. Your legs spread and he situated himself between them. His long fingers caressed your inner thigh before sliding along your slick folds.

            A moan of pleasure escaped his lips when he found how wet you were for him. He easily slid a finger into your womanhood and thrust it a few times before inserting a second. You easily took in his fingers and your hips began to rock with his movements.

            “Hisoka.” You breathlessly called his name.

            “Am I the best kisser you’ve met?” His voice was full of lust and mischief as he teased you with his fingers.

            You were too far gone to care what he did or did not know about you and you nodded. “Yes.”

            “So, are you a specialist?” That same teasing voice and the withdrawal of his fingers made you whine with need.

            “Yes.” You desperately wanted him and it he didn’t matter if he was right or not. You just wanted him. Wanted him inside you. “Hisoka, please.” You begged him and were almost afraid he’d leave you in this state, but you moaned in anticipation as you watched him line up his member before easily sliding his warm, hard cock into you.

            Your back arched at the feeling of his member filling you completely. He easily slid into you and paused for just a moment so you could savor the fulling of every inch of him filling your womanhood. Your body clenched around him and tried to further its pleasure.

            Hisoka closed his eyes at the feeling and moaned as he pulled back and began to pump himself in you. His movements were slow at first. Savoring the feeling of you clenched around him, but as his need grew so did the intensity of his thrusts.

            You moaned sweetly and your hips rose to meet his. The feeling of him deep inside you was delicious and you hooked your leg around him. The fighter watched your body writhe in pleasure beneath him before gently pulling you up to sit in his lap.

            The movement pushed him even deeper into you. You threw your arms around his neck and moved yourself on top of him. His hands wrapped around your back and pulled you tightly to his body. Your lips found their way to his and your tongues entwined in a dance of passion as you bounced along his cock.

            Your body quivered and rocked as your climax drew near. Hisoka pushed you back onto the bed and his movements became more frenzied. His lips and teeth were down your neck, across your collarbone, and sucking on your breasts.

            “Hisoka!” You cried out his name and arched your back as you came undone. The fighter let out a low growl as his seed spilled in you. Several breathless moments later, your eyes met Hisoka’s golden ones.

            “I look forward to reviewing your next performance.” His sultry tenor sparked your heat again and you smiled seductively at the man above you. You were looking forward to next time as well.

[peteytheparrot]

Gnawing at my cage foaming at the mouth why the FUCK is the Everybody is going to heaven album by Citizen SO FUCKING GOODDDDDD GEGRGRGRGRGGAAHAHAGHAGSHAGH LIKE EVERY SONG BLENDS INTO EACHOTHER AND THEYRE ALL COHESIVE AND TELL A FULL STORY HELLOOO????? WHY ISNT THIS ALBUM MORE POPULAR?????

[miku-meeku]

HE NOTICED MY ART HEHEHHEHEHE

LETS GOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

and then i saw this

i wonder if he knows alien stage.....

.....chat what if i sing ruler of my heart-

[mechahero]

//Looking through an old info doc brought up some things I’ve been meaning to do on here but forgot or never got around to and came across a snippet that mentions that Lambda kills people but only because he feels like he’s been pinned into a corner and like there’s no other options available to him depending on the kind of person he’s dealing with.