#let me know if this works or if you'd like something else!

[prettyboykatsuki]

fang i need 119 with yuuta so bad i think my world will collapse if i dont get it

✮  119 + yuuta okkotsu | “do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

✮ tags ; fem!reader (no gendered language. reader is wearing a skirt + blouse and has boobs), femdom, dirty talk, boss yuuta x subordinate reader, some alcohol, premature ejaculation yippeee.

✮ a/n ; don't even rmb what prompt list this is from but here. do not know if this is what u mean anon but this is what i got for u.

Yuuta is not very subtle when leers at you.

You try not to make him anymore self-conscious than need be. He's your superior for one, and for the most part - he's mature, empathetic, and calm. You're fond of him both in general but also as your boss and appeciate his competency when the rest of your team is making your head spin. You'd hate for anyone else to take his place.

He's got a knack for keeping things in order when they're about ready to fall apart.

And he's nice - well loved by women in the office for being handsome and kind and hated by men for being popular with them.

You don't know when it is, exactly, that he starts looking at you in that way. You only know that you don't especially mind.

Yuuta has little tells when he's staring at you during work.

The soft jut of his lips, the mild nerves of his smile, the way his eyes don't stay in the same place when you talk or wear something with the slightest bit of skin. It's weird. Before you noticed this about Yuuta, you never saw him in any sort of way.

He's a nice guy and he's a good boss, but you're not one to crush easily. You like Yuuta as is, and have never considered complicating that on the whims of things like attraction or a passing thought. You don't particularly need to get laid nor are you starving for that sort of attention.

Before you notice, you never have anything but work appropriate thoughts. But after you notice, you think that you really, really want to bully him about it.

When the opportunity presents itself to do that, you do - even though it is a bad idea.

Your boss is pretty cute when he's tipsy. He's also, maybe predictably, easy. It didn't take any amount of pushing to get him to bring you home. One pouty word of concern about going home so late and a little pushing up against his arm and he practically collapses under the pressure. The fact he let you cling to his arm and rub up on him the entire car ride makes you think he's probably letting you do this for one reason or another.

So, it's easy to convince him to take you home. Just like it's easy to convince him to take you inside, to help you on the couch, to get you water, to stay a while or maybe stay the night since the last train is about to go anyway.

This is how you get Yuuta on your couch with his pants unzipped.

"Yuuta-san," Your voice is sing-songy. Normally, you're a touch more careful with this kind of thing but you're not sober enough to bother with it as you slide up next to him. He's flushed pink, wide-eyed. "You look nervous."

"W-we shouldn't," He swallows and looks over at you where you're pressed against his side. Your blouse is unbuttoned, nothing but your pencil "I shouldn't've—"

"Oh, don't be like that. You've been giving me looks for a while now, right? Did you think I didn't notice?"

He looks like a deer caught in headlights. How cute. "I'm very sorry."

"It's okay," You nuzzle up to him softly and he does not bother pushing you away even slightly. "I'm saying I don't mind it. But a little won't hurt right?"

He's stiff as you scoot in as close to him as you can, reaching you over to the front of his slacks. His hard-on, half-mast, betrays his sense of hesitance. You watch as he drops his head back, palm cupping the hard outline with amusement. You lean, lips close to his ear.

"Can't go home like this, Yuuta-san. I'll help you if you say please, okay?"

He looks at you from the corner of his eyes before shutting them. "Please..."

You grin a little. "Good boy."

He lets out a pathetic little whimper that makes the corners of your mouth twitch. Wordlessly, undo the zipper of his slacks - reaching your hand into his waist band and sliding it over his cock. It's hard now, twitching under your touch. Yuuta is sensitive. You're sticking so close to his side you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the way he's holding it all in.

You pull his length out slowly, spitting into your palm before wrapping your hand around his shaft. His cock is long and pretty. The tip of it is already drooling like you've been touching him for hours, ruddy with need. You stroke him in your hands, feeling for all the veins under his shaft. Holding it and seeing the length and weight. You crass him like that slowly, cupping his balls lightly before jerking him off again.

All of the touch leaves Yuuta gasping. He tries his best not to make any noise, but his voice comes out in a whine anyway. Usually such a gentle, kind of voice - broken and throaty as his dick twitches and leaks helplessly in your hand.

"Yuuta-san, be honest." You hum curiously. "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?"

He makes shameful face, closing his eyes even tighter. "Yes. I'm sorry,"

"Oh, you said it so easily," You reply, amused. "Pervert."

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry - I won't do it again,"

"Instead of touching yourself, isn't this better? Don't you think my pussy will feel good around your cock, Yuuta-san? You can peep as much as you like but that means this is mine for the time being, okay?"

You're barely stroking him hard when you feel him twitch suddenly. Glancing down, you watch as balls tighten - expose stomach flexing it's muscles as Yuuta lets out a loud choked moan. You feel him in your palms - hard, hot cock trembling before it shoots out a thick load of cum into your fingers.

Your eyes widen in mild surprised as you watch him squirm, chasing the high with his hips - aimlessly fucking into the little hole made by your hand. He can't stop cumming. It's drenching your fingers, making them sticky as you stroke him through it.

He finishes with his chest heaving, still cumming in little spurts. You can't help but giggle at how whiny he is.

"Didn't think you were such a quick shot, Yuuta-san." Before he can respond, you bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick the cum off. "Not bad."

He stares at you jaw dropped, looking so embarrassed he could die. You think he looks a little cute like that.

"Oh, it's already up again," You smile, watching him go half hard so quickly. His blush deepens. "Since you were honest, guess I should let you fuck me forreal."

He looks at you with wide, wet eyes and pouty lips. Yes, you know the look well by now.

He takes a deep breath and stares at you longingly.

"...Please."

[thinkinginpen]

Unexpected Company Part 2

a/n: It may not be the holidays yet but who doesn't love some good Christmas spirit in the fall? And two in one hour? Damn. pairing: old!logan x reader w/c: 3.6k warnings: romance, hinting, love, fake dating, age gap, etc. summary: You went to Logan's house, your grumpy old neighbor, to bring him cookies and get away from the Christmas party. Little did you know this grumpy old man would take a turn. Next thing you knew he was lecturing your ex on how to treat a girl right.

You reluctantly followed your ex as he led you away from the others. He steered you to a quiet corner of the room, out of earshot of the rest of the party. His expression was cold and unforgiving.

"What the hell is going on here?" he hissed.

"What do you mean?" you asked, feigning ignorance. You knew what he was talking about, but playing dumb seemed like your best bet at this point.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about!" he snapped. "You show up with some old dude in tow and act like he's your boyfriend? Don't try to play dumb with me, I know it's bullshit!"

"It's not bullshit," you said defensively. "He really is my boyfriend."

Your ex rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Yeah, right. You expect me to believe that you're dating some old geezer?"

"Yes, I do," you retorted. "What, are you jealous or something?"

He sneered, clearly unconvinced. "Jealous? Of a fossil? Fat chance. No, I just want to know what kind of game you're playing here."

You gritted your teeth, frustrated by his tone. "I'm not playing any game. I'm dating him, and that's it."

He let out a hollow laugh. "Okay, fine. Say I believe you. How did that even happen? How'd you end up with some old man instead of me?"

You hesitated, not sure how to answer that. There was no way in hell you were going to tell him the truth - that the only reason you were pretending to be in a relationship with Logan was to get under his skin.

You took a deep breath and decided to stick with the same cover story you'd used earlier. "It just happened, I guess. We clicked."

He snorted, still not buying it. "Yeah, right. You expect me to believe that you just randomly met this guy and started dating him? I don't buy it."

Your frustration was growing. How dare he question the validity of your relationship, even if he was right?

"Believe whatever you want," you said, crossing your arms. "But it doesn't change the fact that I'm dating him, and he's better than you in every way."

Your ex's expression darkened at your words, his fists clenching. "Oh, so now you're gonna pull that crap? You honestly think this guy is better than me?"

He stepped closer to you, looming over you. "You're really gonna choose an old man over me?"

You didn't back down, meeting his angry gaze defiantly. "Yes, I am. He's more mature than you, and treats me a lot better."

Your ex scoffed. "Yeah, maybe because he's been alive longer than my grandparents. You think he'll be able to keep up with you in a couple years?"

"Better than you can," you shot back. "At least he's still active. He works out, he can do stuff. What've you been doing every day since we broke up? Playing video games and eating pizza rolls?"

He bristled, clearly insulted. "That's not all I do!"

"Oh really? What else do you do?" you asked, feigning curiosity. "I mean, you spend a lot of time on the couch. I'm sure you got up from there at some point."

He clenched his jaw, clearly getting more and more frustrated. "That's not the point!" he snapped. "The point is that there's no way you're really dating this old dude. You're just trying to make me jealous, right? That's it, isn't it?"

You felt a flicker of satisfaction as he grew more agitated. "No, I'm really dating him."

He gritted his teeth. "No way. Prove it."

"Prove it?" you repeated, surprised by the request. "How am I supposed to prove it to you?"

Your ex rolled his eyes. "I don't know, kiss him or something."

You nearly choked at the sudden request. "Wh-what? You want me to kiss him? Right here, in front of everyone?"

"Why not?" he sneered. "If you're really dating him, it should be easy, right?"

You felt a pang of panic mixed with irritation as he challenged you. You glanced over at Logan, who was still standing calmly across the room, mingling with other people at the party.

Your ex chuckled, noticing your hesitation. "See, you can't do it. You're bluffing, and you know it. You're just using this old guy as a prop to make me jealous, and I'm not falling for it."

You gritted your teeth, feeling a wave of anger and determination wash over you. He was right about one thing - you weren't really dating Logan, at least not in the way he meant. But the way he was demeaning Logan… no matter his age, he deserved better than that.

Logan was listening intently to a conversation with one of the nearby families when he suddenly heard the heated argument between you and your ex. His eyebrows rose, and he subtly moved to listen in.

He was surprised to hear your ex tell you to prove your relationship, but his expression darkened as he heard the other man's mocking tone.

He quickly made his way over to the pair of you, his expression stormy. As he got closer, he made himself known by grabbing your ex by the front of his shirt.

Your ex was suddenly yanked backwards, his shirt crumpling as Logan's fist closed tightly around a fistful of fabric.

He sputtered as he lost his balance, staring up at the much larger man in shock. "What the hell-"

Logan towered over him, leaning down to speak directly in his face. His tone was low and dangerous.

"I'm only going to say this once, boy. Leave the girl alone."

Your ex's expression flickered from surprise to anger. "Excuse me? You can't just-"

But before he could finish, Logan pulled him closer, his grip still tight on his shirt.

"I can do whatever I damn well please," he growled. "And right now, what I'm doing is telling you to leave her alone. Understand?"

Your ex floundered, clearly stunned by the unexpected intervention. But he wasn't cowed, and he tried to pull away from Logan's grip.

"And who are you, her guardian or something?" he snapped. "You got no right to tell me what to do, old man. You don't love her-"

Logan's expression darkened further. He had clearly heard enough.

"I don't love her, huh?" he said gruffly.

Before your ex could react, he tightened his grip on his shirt and slammed him against the nearest wall, pinning him there with one arm.

Your ex's eyes widened in shock and fear as he found himself slammed against the wall. The wall shook from the impact, and several people nearby turned to see what was going on.

Logan leaned in closer, his face mere inches from your ex's. "You little bastard," he growled. "You don't have any idea what it means to love her."

Your ex tried to struggle, but Logan's hold on him was too strong. He was trapped, completely at the mercy of the older man's grip.

"Let- let go of me!" he gasped, his bravado faded as he stared up at Logan's angry face.

Logan's expression was stony, his eyes boring into your ex's. "Not until I'm done talking to you," he said gruffly.

He leaned in even closer, his tone low and dangerous. "You think just because you're young that you know better than anyone else? You think you know her better than I do?"

Your ex was visibly shaken, his cocky demeanor gone in the face of Logan's angry glare.

"I- I do know her better than you," he protested weakly. "I was dating her before you came around."

"Yeah, you were," Logan said gruffly. "And you blew it. Now she's with me, and you need to learn to live with that."

He paused, then suddenly pulled your ex closer, his face a mere inch away. "You're never going to touch her again, boy. Not as long as I'm around."

Your ex's expression wavered, caught between fear and anger.

"You can't just-" he started to say, but Logan cut him off with a glare.

"Dare me," he said gruffly. "Go on, boy. Say what you were gonna say."

Your ex swallowed, clearly intimidated. He tried to pull away from Logan, but he was still pinned in place. After a moment of hesitation, he finally spoke up.

"You can't just take her away from me," he muttered resentfully. "She was mine first."

"You don't own her, boy," Logan snapped, his voice hard as steel. "She's not something you can just claim like a damn trophy. She's her own damn person, and she can make her own damn decisions."

He leaned in closer, his face almost touching your ex's. "And she made the decision to ditch your sorry ass for me."

Your ex's expression darkened at the insult. "And why would she choose some old guy like you?" he shot back, his tone bitter. "What can you give her that I can't?"

Logan's glare hardened, his eyes narrowing into slits. "I can give her a hell of a lot more than you ever did," he said gruffly.

He leaned in even closer, his voice a low growl. "I can give her stability, and respect, and loyalty. Things that you clearly didn't know how to provide."

Your ex tried again to struggle, but he was still trapped in Logan's grip. His expression darkened even further as he spat back.

"What, you think you're some kind of saint, just because you're older? You don't know me. You don't know what I can do for her."

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," Logan said. "And from what I can tell, you're a damn coward who couldn't even keep her happy when you had the chance."

He leaned in so close that his chest was practically pressed against your ex's. "And you think for a second that you could do better than me?"

Your ex was clearly flustered, his expression torn between anger and fear.

"I- I could give her-" he started to say, but Logan cut him off with a scoff.

"Yeah? What, like you could give her a future? What's your plan for the future? Keep working a minimum wage job and play video games in your mom's basement all day?"

Logan chuckled, but he was seething.

"You wanna know what it's like to treat a girl right? First rule: You take care of her. I don't just mean buy her gifts and open doors for her. I mean really take care of her. Be there for her, listen to her, show her respect and loyalty and all the other things you seem to be completely incapable of."

He looked your ex over, his expression still disapproving. "Rule two: don't act like a damn child. Don't throw temper tantrums every time something doesn't go your way, don't blame her for your problems. Have some damn respect and act like you're actually worthy of her."

Logan's expression darkened further. "And rule three: Be a damn man. Don't let the people around you walk all over you, don't let people who don't matter to you drag you down. And for the love of God, don't try to cheat on her just because you can't keep it in your damn pants."

He leaned in closer, his voice low and fierce. "And if by some chance you've managed to follow all three of those rules, then maybe - MAYBE - you might be worthy of someone like her. But let's be honest, boy. We both know you haven't managed to follow a single one."

Your ex was caught between anger and fear, his expression shifting as Logan listed off the rules for treating a girl right. He opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by another scoff from Logan.

"Don't try to deny it, boy. We both know you've failed at all three. You're a damn child, pretending to be a man. And until you grow the hell up, you will never be worthy of a woman like her."

With that, he finally released his hold on your ex. The younger man stumbled backwards, clearly shaken.

Logan glanced over his shoulder at you, his expression softening. "Come here, darling," he said, his tone suddenly gentle.

You approached the pair, your heart racing after witnessing the intense encounter. You could sense your ex's glower as you stepped up next to Logan, who wrapped a protective arm around your shoulders.

He pulled you close, his presence warm and reassuring. He kept his gaze locked on your ex, his expression still stern.

"He won't be bothering you again, baby," he said gruffly.

Logan led you over to a nearby couch, his arm still around your shoulders. Most of the party seemed to have started minding their own business again, though a few people were still shooting curious glances your way.

He sat down on the couch, pulling you down next to him.

He put his other arm around you so that you were essentially squished between his broad frame and the couch cushions. He could tell that you were still a little shaken up, and he squeezed you gently, trying to reassure you.

"You alright, baby?" he asked gruffly, his voice low so that the other guests couldn't overhear.

"You can stop the act now Mr. Logan."

Logan raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in tone. He continued to hold onto you, but turned to get a better look at your expression.

"What do you mean, hun?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

You could tell that he was playing dumb, probably to save face in front of the other guests. Your expression became a mixture of exhaustion and irritation.

"You know exactly what I mean, Logan," you said. "We can stop. I think we've sold the act enough by now."

Logan's expression softened, and he let out a low chuckle. He glanced around and confirmed that most of the party had gone back to their own conversations.

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice even further. "You sure about that, baby?" he asked, his tone suggestive.

You rolled your eyes, though a slight smile tugged at your lips. "Yes, I'm sure," you reassured him. "I think we've put on enough of a show. No need to keep this going any longer."

He chuckled again, tightening his grip on you. "Well, I don't mind keeping it going a little longer," he said, his voice low and suggestive. "I'm enjoying having you like this."

You sighed, but couldn't help the tingle of heat that ran through you at his words. "Stop it," you said, trying to sound stern despite your growing arousal. "We're in a room full of people, remember?"

Logan chuckled at your protests, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed in his grip.

"C'mon pretty girl, for Christmas' sake please can we keep this going?" he pleaded, his voice low and coaxing.

You fought to keep a straight face, trying not to let his words get to you. But it was difficult, especially with the heat rising in your cheeks.

"I thought the point of this was to make my ex jealous," you reminded him, trying to sound more stern than you felt.

He squeezed you tighter, his expression turning smug. "Yeah, it was," he said, his voice a low rumble. "and we've done a damn good job of that. But now that I've got you all to myself, I'm not ready to let go just yet."

Logan loosened his embrace slightly, allowing you a bit more breathing room.

"Honey," he said, his tone suddenly more polite. "Would you mind grabbing us some food?"

You blinked, a bit taken aback by the unexpected change in tone. But you composed yourself quickly and nodded.

"Sure, I can do that," you said, rising from the couch. "What do you want me to bring back?"

Logan smiled, pleased by your response. "Surprise me," he said. "Oh and how about some of those cookies you and your mother baked?"

You chuckled, amused by his request. "You've got a sweet tooth, huh?" you teased, as you made your way towards the buffet table.

Logan watched you as you walked away, his gaze lingering on your figure. His eyes stayed fixed on you until you disappeared among the crowd, at which point he settled back against the couch, a satisfied smile on his face.

The party continued around him, but his thoughts were focused on you. He couldn't help but feel a stirring of possessiveness. He had played the role of your boyfriend for the evening, and it seemed like he had done a pretty damn good job of it.

As Logan sat on the couch, waiting for you to return, he couldn't help but reflect on how the evening had started. He thought back to just hours earlier when he had been sitting alone, feeling grumpy and wishing he was anywhere else.

Then you had appeared, bringing him a plate of cookies that you had baked yourself. He had been hesitant at first, but the delicious treats had quickly won him over.

He recalled the conversations you had had once you had sat down. He had initially intended to brush you off and get back to his brooding, but he had found that he couldn't bring himself to shoo you away. Instead, he had ended up engaged in a surprisingly enjoyable conversation, and before he knew it, the hour was getting late.

You returned to the couch, your arms laden with food for both of you. You noticed that Logan was deep in thought, and he was visibly startled when you put the food down on the coffee table.

"You spaced out there, old man," you teased, gesturing for him to grab some food.

He chuckled, still slightly disoriented from his musings. "Sorry baby, got lost in thought there," he said, shaking his head.

He perked up when he saw the cookies you had brought back, a smile spreading across his face. "Hey, you remembered."

You chuckled, watching as he eagerly reached for the cookies. "Of course I did," you said, taking a seat on the couch next to him.

"I figured you could use a little comfort food after dealing with my ex," you added, taking a bite of your own food.

Logan grunted in agreement, already stuffing a cookie into his mouth. "Your ex's a damn fool," he said, his voice muffled through the food. "He'll never be good enough for you."

You raised an eyebrow at his assessment. "And you are?" you asked teasingly, poking him in the side.

Logan chuckled, swatting at your hand. "Hey now, watch it. You're gonna make me choke."

He finished his bite of cookie, then turned to look at you dead in the eye. "And to answer your question, hell yes I'd be good enough for you," he said, his tone serious.

You were surprised by his sudden shift in tone, and you found yourself momentarily speechless. You fumbled for a response for a few seconds before finally managing to gather your thoughts.

"You're awfully confident, old man," you said, trying to mask the flutter in your chest.

Logan chuckled at your response, clearly amused by your attempts to hide your reaction to his declaration. He continued to eat his food and the cookies, glancing over at you between bites.

You did the same, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach as you silently ate.

The room was filled with the sounds of the ongoing party, but the two of you were mostly silent as you ate. Every so often, Logan would steal a glance at you, his eyes fixed on your lips as you chewed.

You glanced over at Logan, noticing a small spot of food stuck in his beard. It was a bit distracting, and you couldn't help but giggle at the sight.

"You've got something on your face," you said, reaching over and gently swiping the food from his beard.

Logan froze as your fingers touched his beard, and for a moment the two of you just sat there, frozen in the intimate moment. Your fingers lingered in his beard, tracing the length of it and feeling the coarse texture.

And then, almost against his will, Logan found himself tipping his head closer to yours. His eyes met yours, and his expression darkened with desire.

You became aware of his lips drawing ever closer to yours, your breath catching in your throat. Your fingers were still in his beard, as if frozen in place. Your whole world seemed to have narrowed to the two of you in that instant, the sounds of the party fading into the background.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, your lips met. The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration. But then something seemed to snap, and the kiss deepened. Logan reached up to cup your face in his hands, pulling you closer as he claimed your mouth in a hungry kiss.

You found yourself responding eagerly, your fingers tangling in his beard. The kiss was intense, and it felt like the whole world had vanished around you, leaving just the two of you. Your heart raced as his hands held your face in place, his tongue slipping past your lips to deepen the kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as you got lost in the kiss. His beard tickled your skin, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pulled you even closer. Your hands moved up to his shoulders, gripping the material of his shirt as you kissed deeper.

Logan reluctantly pulled back, breaking the kiss as he sucked in a gulp of air. He was breathing heavily, and his expression was still darkened with desire.

He nodded towards your ex, who was watching and seething from across the room.

He leaned in and whispered in your ear, "Merry Christmas, bubba."

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

Part 1 Part 2

🏷️: @princessleah94 @littlbitch69

[signanothername]

So, I know you've admitted to never reading For the Forgotten Ones, but I will note it has some very fanon Nightmare + MTT. And, so, it made me wonder;

the concept is just Ink being stopping from destroying his own SOUL by Nightmare, who takes him in. Ink ends up as a healer, before eventually discovering that he's Protector of Creation. Loosest way to describe the plot as possible. Could go more in detail if you'd ever like. BUT BACK TO THE THING I WAS WONDERING!!!!!!!!

How would that go with your version of Nightmare and the gang? With Nightmare finding the small, skeleton (small enough to be a kid), who has almost no knowledge of how the word works, and stubbornly refuses to ever fight or hurt or destroy, to the point he learns green magic, and barely anything else (he only learns his own magic aside from green), and Ink wants them all to be okay at the end of the day. How would that go with him? Even more so, what about MTT? In the story, Horror's the most chill with Ink, they're vibing. Dust/Murder is kinda vibing with Ink, arguably the two closest to Ink in the beginning. Killer is.....it takes a good minute for him to warm up to this one(Will say, at some point Ink falls into another AU o accident when opening a portal for the first time, nearly dies, is soaking wet ad scared, and he's given one of MTT's jackets, AND IT GOES DOWN TO HIS KNEES, I NEED YOU TO PICTURE THIS PLEASE....it was Killer's). By the end they're found family, but I really love your version of everyone, and I started rereading ftfo, when I wondered how different this could be if it were a DIFFERENT multiverse, a.k.a., your iteration?

Oh it’s definitely extremely different chhchc

I’m sorry to say that my multiverse isn’t much of a merciful one hchchchchc (I wouldn’t say my multiverse is a sad one, but it’s certainly a bittersweet one)

Biggest difference? Nightmare won’t even think of getting Ink under him or get him inside his castle to begin with

To Nightmare, That’s just another random Sans in this vastly wide multiverse, he already got 3, he doesn’t need another, sure, the circumstances of this particular Sans are interesting to say the least, but by that point, there’s nothing Ink could offer Nightmare at all except for his misery and negativity, but again, he already got 3 negativity meals that continuously feed him anyway, and this entire place is nothing but white void, so Nightmare has nothing interesting to be offered, there is literally no reason Nightmare would feel like he needs to change his routine to include a random skeleton who’s best they ever done is sit down and sulk

And hey, if being in this white void makes them miserable then who’s Nightmare to stop them from being miserable? :)

He’ll come in, take one look at them and their Au, get out, simple as that, and even if this random Sans had something to offer, Nightmare would simply settle for making a deal and leaving them there (no open positions for another member in his gang)

So basically the entire plot of the fic won’t even happen with my Nightmare, the fic is just gonna be reduced to a oneshot wheeze gchchcch

But for the sake of this ask, let’s imagine that my Nightmare did actually take Ink in, let’s explore how that would go

Another big difference? It’s Killer that’s gonna “warm up” to Ink first, (ngl, never understood the notion of Killer being the aggressive one cchhcch), i put “warm up” in quotes cause in reality it’s less warming up and more like, “wow! A change of pace? Something new? Interesting gotta squeeze every info outta them and maybe even manipulate them to suit me and convenient me while i’m at it”

Killer is social in nature, and unless Ink somehow reminds him of his own misary, there’s no reason Killer would pass up the opportunity to see how this new guy ticks, he’d study Ink like an ant, dissect them in his mind even, i mean, Nightmare getting someone new? He knows Nightmare isn’t one who likes change in his routine so what’s the new guy got that actually caught Nightmare’s interest this much?

All that aside, Killer is actually extremely docile to anyone as long as they don’t push him or force something upon him, and even when pushed, Killer is surprisingly patient and would simply let them get it out of their system all while making it clear he wants to be left alone until he loses that patience, so unless Ink somehow genuinely and actively pushes Killer’s buttons, he’ll never get on Killer’s nerves/bad side, Killer would simply treat Ink like he treats anyone, no genuine connection, just another thing (not person) to study and analyze

If Killer were to attack Ink in any way, it’s less aggression, and more “let’s see what this guy can do” just a quick test for his new lab rat

Killer wouldn’t form any genuine emotional connection with Ink, to Killer, Ink is just another toy Nightmare wanted to get for himself, and that’s talking about Stage 2, Stage 1 is… outta commission, I don’t think Ink would truly have the chance to meet Stage 1 Killer, meeting Stage 3 is a big possibility, but let’s hope Ink doesn’t have to cause I don’t think Ink would know how to deal with him

Murder and Horror are a different story, Horror wouldn’t want anything to do with the new guy, he already got a ton to deal with, he’s not interested to add another problem to his pile of problems, I wouldn’t say Horror would be aggressive, more passive aggressive, Horror is the old tired guy™ in the group, he’s got a splitting headache most of the time, a bitchy boss, hunger eating away at him and a Killer he would like to choke sometimes, he isn’t really in the mood to make friends

But as long as Ink doesn’t bother him, Horror would simply just co-exist with them, and even answer their questions or converse with them, but all in a “hurry up i want a nap” attitude

Horror has the capacity to warm up to Ink, but it’ll be a long slow journey till there, and Ink would have to do all the work cause Horror sure as hell won’t be the one trying to form a connection with him

Murder is a bit on the aggressive side, but not too much, just enough to make it very clear he isn’t up for making friends either, a bit of a cold shoulder if you will, but generally, Murder would just keep his distance, not trusting Ink too much, a bit paranoid about who he might be and why Nightmare brought them in considering they don’t look like they’d fit in their band of misfits at all

Still, Murder would warm up to Ink eventually if he truly realizes that Ink isn’t really that much of a bad guy, just another lost unfortunate soul that had miserable luck in life that Nightmare found them first

I’d say Murder is the one that might form a friendship with Ink, a twisted form of friendship where it’s “you’re now tolerable and so i might lend a hand here and there but every man for himself”, definitely not a rose filled friendship where it’s all rainbows, but a friendship nonetheless

But still, Murder is kinda the opposite to Killer, Killer is docile, Murder is hostile, so if Ink were to be hurt by one if the MTT first, it’s most likely Murder’s doing

But in general, it’s Killer that’s gonna help Ink “catch up” and get up to date on how things go around the castle and in general, it’s pretty much his job as he’s Nightmare’s right hand man, so if anything happens or if Ink steps outta line which could’ve been prevented had Killer done his job by properly introducing Ink to their “work flow”, it’s an 80% possibility that Killer is the one that’s gonna be in trouble

Don’t Imagine Killer doing his job in the sense of actual genuine love to help and more, cold distant “here’s how you can survive” without much emotion behind it even, just Killer smiling his dead smile and chatting it up, and even going as far as physical harm for “demonstration purposes”

When it comes to Nightmare and his relationship with Ink… there isn’t any, Nightmare sees Ink as another asset, another miserable soul to do his bidding, if Nightmare somehow deals with Ink’s refusal to hurt anyone then two things might happen:

1- Nightmare tortures Ink with his fear of white spaces and if things continue they way they do, and Nightmare reaches his limit, he’d simply try killing Ink off (now whether that would work is really up to you)

And

2- would let Ink warm up to MTT, then use them as scapegoats to force Ink to do what he wants by torturing them every time Ink decides to be stubborn (even going as far as making an example without any actual reason and demonstrating it by breaking one of MTT’s bones like twigs as Ink watches)

Now MTT would definitely start pressuring Ink to do his “job” to just murder someone or hurt them, as they aren’t looking forward to Nightmare torturing them just cause Ink wants to hold on to such delusional ideologies, and maybe even ending up feeling a lot of distaste for Ink and his behavior, their environment wasn’t meant for good intentions to blossom, and they’re gonna teach Ink that

If Ink somehow got stuck with Nightmare and his lil gang then man, I genuinely pity him

I feel like Ink would crave a tiny bit of genuine connection after being stuck in a white void for so long, but Nightmare and MTT don’t have that genuine connection, MTT are just roommates barely tolerating each other who live in absolute horrendous conditions under an abusive boss in an abusive environment, where the nicest most genuine thing one of them might do is tell you “hey don’t talk to boss today he’ll make you relive your worst nightmares, yeah, he’s in a mood today it seems”, and then there’s Nightmare who would make Ink extremely miserable and would use Ink’s fear of white spaces against him like the cruel sadistic bastard he is

Nightmare gang isn’t a found family, it’s a group of forced enslavement and labor, and there’s no escaping it

(The image of Killer’s jacket reaching Ink’s knees is really adorable tho, have a sketch for it :D)

[latenlghtdevil]

Recipe For Disaster ❤️‍🔥 Chapter One

So, here's the result of my head chef!sukuna x f!server!reader ideas running rampant in my mind — a very slowburn enemies to something fic 🫣 I hope y'all enjoy and lmk what you think, my asks are open!! mwah xx

2057 words

Head Chef Sukuna Itadori had worked very, very hard to get to where he was today— sweating his ass off while slaving over the umpteenth filet of the night.

He wasn't ungrateful but he was a bit bitter. He loves cooking, and was damn good at it, but the hours were long and the job could feel really thankless. Especially when tables found it more than okay to completely change his prepared menu for their singular order.

As a ticket printed, riddled with modifications that changed his entree for the night from a marinated steak option to, basically, a steak stroganoff. Yes, he could make it using all kinds of ingredients they had on hand, especially since the server had managed to figure out the complicated system in order to ring it in properly, but, he wasn't going to do it. It wasn't prepped or planned for, and in the middle of a dinner rush like right now, it would complicate everything.

He didn't make exceptions. Unless there was an allergy, his restaurant, Gōrudosutā, was not a place for substitutions and and picky eaters. Sukuna spent his countless sleepless nights racking his brain for new creations, each weekend night offering a different menu, most items never to be repeated again. This wasn't anything new, so who the fuck rang something like this in?

He yanked the ticket off the printer, his eyes narrowed as Geto gazed over his shoulder, scoffing as he read it. A deep breath escaped Sukuna before he crumpled the ticket, the newest servers name printed boldly at the top.

Sukuna didn't like you during your interview, he felt like you were too bubbly, but you had plenty of experience and it was ultimately Satoru’s say, as the front of house manager. He definitely had a lot to say about you.

He couldn't stop gushing about all of your previous high end restaurant experience, starting in fast food and working your way well up from there. Great reviews about her service, wonderful recommendations from every manager she's ever had, regulars who'd follow her no matter where she worked next.

It irked Sukuna. He loves the restaurant industry, but the servers who put too much into it irritated him. There was no reason to fall at the customers feet and accommodate their every beck and call; your job was to serve the food, no friendliness and frills needed.

So the first time he stepped out of the kitchen during the earlier hours of a slower night and overheard you dotting to one of your tables, he wanted to barf in his mouth.

He stood with his back against the wall near the servers station waiting for Saturo to stop sucking up to an unhappy customer, as you stood with your table just around the corner, chatting happily.

“I don't mind at all,” Your soft voice caught his attention, making him glance over his shoulder at you, a bright smile plastered on your face. “Seriously, if there's anything else you guys need, just let me know.”

You finished topping off the tables waters, before moving to the next, just doing your rounds of check-ins with your guests.

You couldn't be that sweet, Sukuna thought to himself. You hadn't been there long at that point, maybe worked a shift or two without shadowing anyone, so he hadn't been around you much to know, but his gut told him that you couldn't actually be that sweet, you'd be filled with cavities.

He was lost in thought, glancing over the dining room with his arms crossed over his chest, his chefs coat pulling tightly against his muscles. He was brought back to this realm as a sweet smell enveloped him as you round the corner, your head down as you read over a ticket, running straight into Sukuna and nearly knocking the breath out of you.

“Oh…” You placed you hand on your chest as you looked up at him, his eyes on you intently as yours quickly trail around his tattoos before meeting his. “I'm sorry, Chef.”

He couldn't find it in himself to say anything, his brow furrowed as he glanced at your notepad, the edges of the ticket littered with doodles. A small grunt left him before he turned on his heels, heading back toward the kitchen.

“Corner!” Sukuna called as he left you behind, your mind now filling with assumptions about the dickhead chef, nothing you hadn't delt with before.

As his mind replayed your last and only interaction, he reached behind himself, untying his apron as held the ticket tightly in his other hand. “Geto, watch the flattop, I'll be back.”

Sukuna stepped off the line, tossing his apron onto the empty prep line, his footsteps heavy and determined as he moved toward the front, the kitchen and expo widow falling quiet at the look on his face. He didn't call anything as he stepped out of the back, his eyes falling on you in the dining room, talking to the table to blame for the whole issue in the first place.

You felt his eyes on you before you even knew he was there, your hands nervously playing at the edges of your server apron, your pens rolling in the pocket. You nodded softly, your heart in your stomach as you space out of the conversation, wishing you'd been able to listen better to the story your regulars were telling but you knew the problems there were about to cause.

The older couple had become regulars of yours a few years and a couple of restaurants ago, having told you many stories of their younger days, bringing in their children and grandchildren to meet you, bringing you presents on your birthday. They weren't the only regulars you'd had like that either.

As draining as the restaurant industry was for you, you loved giving the best service you could to people, you couldn't ever explain why. Maybe you were a bit too compassionate, but it made you feel good and you loved the genuine connections you've made through it all.

That being said, you know it has its faults, especially somewhere like here. You'd been nervous about telling some of your regulars where you'd been working now, knowing just how they are and how this restaurant ran.

You made an excuse to leave, claiming you had food to run as you turned around, his steeled eyes meeting yours. You broke your eyes from his, offering a half hearted smile at a few of your tables as you made your way through the dining room, feeling like a lamb to slaughter.

Thick fingers held the receipt paper up to your face as soon as you came within feet of him, and you could've sworn he growled before he spoke. “What’s this shit?”

“Looks like an order to me.” You shrugged, sliding past him and to the computer, quickly punching in your number before beginning to ring in another.

You could feel the bewildered stare from Maki, one of the servers they've had since opening, boring into the back of your head. She couldn't believe you had the audacity to ring in something like that in the first place, having already warned you about just how quickly Sukuna would appear, now here you were being a smartass about it.

The same finger that held the receipt just a moment ago reached behind the computer, jamming the power button in the middle of your order. You take a deep breath, eyebrows knitted together as you look over you shoulder at the culprit, his eyes already staring deep into yours.

“I need to see you in the kitchen right now.”

His tone left no room for argument as anger began to rise up inside you, your fists clenched at your side as he turned, the swinging door slamming roughly against the wall as he marched back into his domain.

You felt every hair on your body standing on edge as you followed behind him, eyes begrudgingly set on his muscular back, the dark fabric clinging tightly to him. He stops abruptly, slamming his hand onto the expo counter, the stacks of plates around him rattling loudly as silence fell upon the entire kitchen.

“Now, what the fuck kinda order is this?” He seethed through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as he saw red. It didn't feel like blatant disrespect for him, until you opened your mouth back there.

“I think it's pretty simple. Isn't that all the ingredients that you used in the stroganoff you served last week?” You responded, a hand placed on your hips as your eyebrows raised, your head tilting slightly. You'd been here plenty of times before, arguing with countless line cooks and chefs over just about anything you'd could think of, but there's a few things that haven't changed anytime.

You do your job correctly, and you won't back down. So here the two of you stood, toe to toe, at the beginning of something catastrophic. An absolutely recipe for disaster.

“It was on the menu last week, not tonight, sweetheart. You said it yourself.” His chest heaved as he took a deep breath, trying his best to keep calm. He’d been talked to years ago about his attitude toward the other staff, causing him to often bite his tongue.

You couldn't help but laugh at the nickname, willing to assume he'd already forgotten your name. “And don't you have everything back there to make it still? Did I ring something in wrong? I'd be more than happy to go rering it if you'd like to turn the computer back on.”

You offer a sickeningly sweet smile, batting your lashes a bit as you stare up at the man seething before you. “I'd like you to go back there and make it your-fuckin’-self, honestly. You think it's alright to ring in an order that'll complete fuck up the whole system I've got back there?”

A head full of pink hair and a thick fucking skull, got it. This man was quickly becoming a pain in your side, even with this being your first interaction since his manager had hired you.

“I think a competent chef would be able to work out his own recipe.”

“I think you're fighting too hard for a measly 20% tip.”

“You're must be fucked up if you think I earn that little.”

“You're fucked up if you think I'm making this shit, sweetheart. Now march back out there and tell there and tell your geriatric home to pack it up and eat somewhere else if they don't like the menu.” He barked, all attention on the two of you as both of you continued to raise your volume.

Satoru came running into the kitchen quickly, his nonslip shoes squeaking as he stepped between the two of you, giving his chef a bewildered look.

“Get her the hell outta my kitchen.” Sukuna refused to even acknowledge the mans presence between them, his eyes boring into yours.

“Get your head out of your ass.” You could see his pulse thumping on his neck, a small vein stating to appear on his forehead as his breaths continued to heave from his flared nostrils.

Within seconds, Gojo spins, peering over his glasses, his blue eyes silently pleading with you to help him. You couldn't help but huff at the shithead chef once more before leaving the kitchen, finding the host Yuji, Maki, and a couple other servers waiting near the door.

“You okay?” Maki asked, her tone a bit harsh but her face genuinely concerned as your booming voices could be heard quite clearly in the dining room. You chuckled and shrugged, smoothing your apron a bit as you glanced at the computer screen, still attempting to start back up.

“I'm fine, he's a prick, but I could've guessed that.” You smiled softly as Satoru slipped out of the kitchen, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

[finniestoncrane]

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 850 sooooo long ago i was discussing with some people how disgustingly hot boomer would find beer if it was involved in sex, so... yeah. i'm not a beer person, so i'm pretending this is a wee can of tennents lmao💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: beer drinking, beer play/food play, suggestive flirting, reader has tits (kind of ample ones i guess!)

"Wanna see my party trick?"

It was all George could do to act cool. Underneath his seemingly permanent smirk, crooked smile, slightly upturned nose, raised eyebrow, you could almost make out the faint blush on his freckled cheeks, a little bit of a tremble on his bottom lip as he wondered what that party trick might be.

"Well?"

"Alright then, Sheila. Show us what you've got."

As you excitedly jumped up from the sofa and headed to the kitchen, he let his mind wander. He was an optimist, after all. Of course, he knew you were only trying to break the awkward silence between you as you lazed on his sofa. It wasn't the best date he'd ever taken someone on. But it was difficult to think of something romantic to do when his idea of a good time was getting too drunk to move and then having someone else jump onto his lap and do all the work. Three beers in and you didn't look like you were going to start jumping any time soon. So he would take excitement where he could. If that meant pretending that your party trick was unhinging your jaw like a python and taking all of him in it, then he was content to live in that daydream.

It would have been impossible for him to know you were feeling as tense and desperate as he was. Mostly, because it seemed impossible for anyone to ever be as desperate as George Harkness. You'd expected a bit more when he'd invited you over to his place for drinks, and you were determined to get it. A bit of overtly seductive flirting was what the situation called for, and you knew exactly what kind of trick would get him drooling.

You returned from the small, messy kitchenette with a bottle of beer in hand.

"That's your trick? Fetching a beer? It's not bad, but you're not winning Crufts any time soon, girl."

As you walked to the sofa you rolled your eyes, stopping in front of him with a half-hearted smile.

"It's a bit more impressive than that, actually. I need you to stand up though."

"Aw, what? I have to do something? It's hardly your trick then, is it?"

"George. Stand up. I promise, it'll be worth it."

The way your lips curled into a knowing grin sent a tingle of electricity over him, quickly travelling down his length. He was standing up, a move so quick you barely registered it. Ready for anything. And once he was there in front of you, you sank to your knees.

George's mind began racing as he stared down at you, catching your eyes looking back up at him from your position on the floor at his feet. Maybe he was right. Maybe your party trick would be unveiling an up to now hidden ability to take all of his impressive girth and length in your mouth at one time. Down to the balls, something no one else had ever been able to do before out of the very limited few who were actually willing to try.

Your fingers took hold of his belt buckle, working at it to undo it. But as he braced himself for you to undo his fly and free his cock, you stopped, instead gripping the buckle with one hand and reaching for the bottle of beer with the other.

Much to his amusement, you placed the cool bottle between your breasts, grimacing and shivering at the sensation of the cold, wet glass on your skin. And then, leaning in to him, pulling the buckle down and undoing the beer. As you sank back down onto your heels, the beer frothed up and foamed over the lip, liquid spilling out over the spout and onto your breasts. Without even realising it, George licked his lips.

Trying to stop the overflow of foam, you leaned forward and closed your lips around the long neck of the bottle, letting your mouth sink a little. He'd never considered before how entirely arousing it would be to bring beer into the bedroom, but you were inspiring him. His mind was racing, his face flushing with heat as his cock twitched against his underwear.

You sucked the neck of the bottle a little longer, removing your mouth with a pop. A quick glance down showed you the mess you had made. Your chest glistening with slightly sticky liquid. Once you had placed the bottle on the table, you lifted your hands to cup at your breasts, lifting your gaze to George, finding him focused on your body.

"Look at the mess I've made. If only there was someone who enjoyed beer who could clean it up for me."

He wiggled with excitement, like an enthusiastic puppy. If he'd had ears, they would have perked up, his tail would have been wagging. His tongue... well, his tongue actually was out, panting in anticipation of getting to lap at your breasts.

With a quick flit of his eyes to yours, you caught the mischievous glint as he moved to you.

"That was a good trick, Sheila. Now let me show you mine."

[starblazes]

❛   ▌┊𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 :   sampo  ( @dupliciti ) .

            𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐈𝐒  𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃.  The  last  thing  she  should  be  doing  is  entertaining  Sampo's  flighty  whims.  Her  friends  are  already  suspicious  enough,  and  Stelle  is  still  deciding  for  herself  if  he  can  be  trusted.  She  argues  that  this  is  just  her  way  of  keeping  an  eye  on  him.  That  meeting  him  in  Boulder  Town  at  three  in  the  aeon-damned  morning  is  doing  her  job  to  keep  things  in  order  around  here  while  the  Astral  Express  investigates  the  Stellaron  predicament.

            Still,  she's  not  surprised  when  the  jerk  isn't  even  at  their  decided  meeting  spot.  Stelle  looks  around,  squinting  through  the  low  lamp  lights  and  dark,  shadowy  corners.

            ❝   You  have  five  seconds  to  show  up  or  I'm  leaving  ——   ❞  she  announces,  as  if  the  threat  will  somehow  carry  on  the  wind.

[allroundher]

@shegunner. call.

ㅤ“ D'you know - ” Penny is already pulling her hair out of its bun, grimacing slightly as her hair-tie drags at a few strands. “ I never get bored of listening to you talk to t' press. ” It is a genuine compliment, and Penny is also grinning like the most easily amused person in the world. She laughs as she rolls her shoulders, stretches her neck a bit. “ You think someday soon, one of them'll ask you an actually insightful question? ”

[livestosave]

@flightofaqrow​ liked for a starter!

      Well. It had been awhile, hadn’t it?

     The Valish docks had never exactly been the most well-policed district of the city. If anything, they tended more towards the proverbial ‘red light district.’ More than a few brothels - legal and otherwise - could be found along the waterfront, and the bars and seedier inns tended to be old, rundown, and shady enough they remained shadowed in direct sunlight - a magic trick Ozma and he had spent several years trying to emulate, to no avail.

      Tonight, however, what had started as a nice stroll along the waterfront had turned to something quite a bit more sinister, as the headmaster found himself in an alley that came rather abruptly to a dead-end.

      Damn.

     Carefully, the man turned to face his small ‘following,’ which appeared to be one of the nastier gangs in the city, with both hands folded neatly over the top of his cane. Perhaps he should have taken Ozma’s advice that this was a poor time to desire some of the sea air…unfortunately for them both, Ozpin had never exactly had an abundance of common sense in such a department. Nor had he made it a habit to be easily swayed from such a course of action. Alas for Ozma’s patience, and his poor hip.

     Before the headmaster could even open his mouth to speak, however, he caught sight of a familiar flash of crimson, and a warm, soft chuckle escaped his lips as he tipped his head towards it, ignoring the confused and now slightly more-than-annoyed thugs. More than likely, Ozpin could have handled them himself, had the need arisen...with help, however? Should the need yet arise, he had no doubts whatsoever.

      “Were you following me, my dear Qrow?  Or has a stroke of good fortune brought you to me in my ‘time of need,’ as it were?”

      Fondness and warmth dripped from his voice, smile growing a bit as he turned honey-brown eyes to the thugs

[mythvoiced]

@devangelis | ♥

"Kang Ae-ri is the only designer who doesn't make me want to get on the news for different reasons than my spectacular reputation. And what do you do?"

[waveofstars]

@antipcdes liked for a starter !

“Remember when you said you were wanting to do something fun and interesting for the holidays?” Whether they actually said that or was just an exaggeration created by Chey was truly a mystery. She chose to believe the former, of course. Getting comfortable in the booth across from them, she nonchalantly slid them a drink she ordered towards them. A sweet gesture… or bribery, more like it. “What about a trip to Texas?” Even she was painfully aware of how little appeal that sentence had and she instantly tried to hide her own grimace. “Think about it… Great barbecue, not too painfully cold, going to my ex-boyfriend’s wedding with me, fun Holiday traditions…” Though she did her best to gloss right over the most important part of her proposal, she knew mumbling it quickly wouldn’t exactly hide it. She wore a sheepish grin and nodded towards them after taking a much needed swig of her beer. “Is that drink good? Want an appetizer? Let me buy you an appetizer…”

[monstrsball]

hq!! pkmn au masterpost

since i've been talking about it a lot lately, i decided to make a post gathering (almost) all of the posts i have made about this au.

links under the cut

rundown i gave on the au a few months ago.

elite four & champion teams.

aone's team.

tendou's team & a question i answered about regions/regional gimmicks.

my thoughts on the karasuno adults in the au. (takeda, ukai, saeko, akiteru, tenma, takinoue, & shimada. i threw in miwa for fun)

my thoughts on hinata, atsumu, & kenma.

another post i made about hinata's team.

lev's team.

kyoutani: 1. 2.

iwaizumi and his tyranitar.

suga's team.

suga's aipom.

yachi, yamaguchi, and tsukishima's teams.

shiratorizawa.

tenma, akaashi, akiteru teams + thoughts on design elements for characters.

[corvidmagicae]

@evoblue​ || not-birb!

There's a small clamour from the Murkrow in the forest canopy - an absolute racket, honestly. It almost sounds as if a Honchrkrow was scolding it's underlings... if not for the fact there was no Honchkrow in sight. Only Murkrow fighting amongst each other, arguing over shiny baubles currently being tossed out of a hollow tree by another Murkrow - this one with a red brooch, silently glaring at the rest of the flock. 

The rest of the flock? Appears they are trying to pin blame on each other for making this happen in the first place. One can only guess what started this argument - perhaps a theft amongst the flock members, but the one tossing stolen items around is clearly is the Honchkrow in question here. 

Apologies to the lady that's unfortunately located on the forest floor - watch your head for falling junk. That box of trainer badges that just got sent flying looks heavy.

[coupcrew]

@ada1r. call.

ㅤ“ Sorry, I'm -- kind of new to all this. ” That Lowry wasn't bright red at the admission was a miracle. The Starhopper was, for the time being, happy to keep her aboard, at least as far as she was willing to pull her weight. She was just glad that it was only Odell here to see what an idiot she was. They were at least willing to give her a chance to learn, where the others might've laughed. “ It's, um. It's not totally broken. I could fix it -- I mean, we have someone who could fix it for you. And obviously, we wouldn't, um -- We wouldn't try give you a busted product or anything. ”

[storiedhistories]

@runsonchaos liked for a smol starter!

Kratos looked down at his son, who was so much taller than he used to be, and he felt a momentary twinge in his heart. Atreus was growing up. He was getting taller, broader, coming into his own. And seeing his son continue to grow, to thrive made Kratos infinitely proud of him, of the man he was becoming.

And yet, there were times that he couldn't help but wonder, as he saw Atreus grow year after year, what Calliope might have been like, had she had a chance at life.

He looked down at his own hands, still white with the ashes of his first family, and he knew that he had to tell Atreus. It was long past time to speak of such things...., and though he didn't like to talk about his previous life......, his son deserved to know a more human side of his father, though Kratos had not been that man in a very long time.

Kratos looked up at Atreus, who looked so much like his mother. He watched him for a moment before speaking, "You are outgrowing your tunic," he said, matter-of-factly. That issue could be addressed first, though he did still intend to tell him about his sister.

[tardis--dreams]

I talked to my professor yesterday and I have some thoughts but it's too exhausting to rant rn. But there will be. Ranting.

[queenoftheboard]

♙ 1.f4 . an opening for Chelsea / @ephixltes

Meetings with Councilman Enoch were inevitably boring - the men who invariably occupied these seats all shared the same background (wealthy individuals from traditional Eastside families) and were used to having DisCity at their feet. Eirene knew she was facing certain bias there - a female president of a business conglomerate, and one that did not come from within the confines of the city.

Perhaps another soul would have given up - but the Campbell heiress was made of tougher stuff; unflinching like the diamonds worn on her fingers. The gems glittered under the light of the room as the blonde drummed her digits over the polished wood, itching to return to a chessboard and move pieces in a worthy use of her time instead of that mockery of her intelligence.

But perhaps that visit had not served only for empty pleasantries while seeking to further establish their connection (a very much needed one if Eirene ever hoped to set foot in the Syndicate, even if indirectly); a curious sound went off while they were there, and an aide to the politician walked into the room shortly after the beeping noise was suspended.

Intrigued, the woman leaned forward in her seat - she couldn't make out the whispered words between the men across her, but Enoch was quick to address his guest next, already rising from his seat and putting an ending to their time ahead of schedule (frankly, a blessing in the eyes of the business magnate).

"Miss Eirene, I do apologize - apparently the alarms are acting up at the residential district. It's probably nothing, but it is my sworn duty to check and ensure the citizens are safe against any Sinners," Enoch was babbling vital information to her - and he had no idea! He probably believed the blonde lady sitting across him to be a mere ambitious business owner, and likely a pawn he could steer towards his own goals... While, in truth, Eirene vastly outperformed him. That relationship existed only because the head of the Campbell family stood to profit from it; not the councilman and his inflated ego.

"I understand, councilman Enoch. The safety of the citizens must always come first. Good luck out there, we shall pick this up next time," the woman agreed pleasantly, and waited until the man was out of the room to open her own phone and call for her driver, immediately sending a few e-mails and messages out. They had a contact within District 14's monitoring team - surely they could provide more specific details about when and where the alarms had been triggered.

After all - Eirene's cover as a normal human had only lasted so long not only because her M-levels did not fluctuate (a gift of her incredibly rational mind), but also because there was a secondary plan in motion: bribing the relevant officers and making sure they had no idea about the true origin of the money they received.

Not a minute went by and the information was already on her phone screen - a complete address with coordinates and the timestamp of the event, but that gave Eirene pause. For precious seconds, the businesswoman stood motionless in the hallway, incapable of moving back or forward and just thinking about what that message entailed.

"Fuck," an uncharacteristic expletive left her lips, but the blonde soon schooled her features into something cool and composed, heading outside with brisk steps and taking her seat at the back of the sleek black vehicle which had been dutifully waiting for Quinn's president and CEO, "Take me to Chelsea, Sullivan. Now."