#PITCHERS WHO RAKE

[qualitystart]

HE'S BACK!

[shaisuki]

❝𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗠𝗬 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗕𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚, 𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗡'𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗣 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗜𝗧! ❞

content warnings: voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), dubious consent, dry humping, blowjobs, fingering.

roommate! geto who one time catching his fellow roommate humping one of their owned plushie like a bitch in heat. door ajar, enough to take a peek of what you're currently doing. the plushie in between their legs, trapped and squeezed while you grind your pussy like your life depended on it.

roommate! geto listening to your sweet moans, blissfully low as you watched one of those stupid porno, the wire of your earphones tangled. your body trembling at the small sparks of pleasure coursing through your plush body.

roommate! geto who should be respectful as one should be to someone's privacy but he can't tear his eyes off from the way your body moves. covered in a thin sheen of sweat while soft whines leaves your mouth. trying to keep the moans at bay.

roommate! geto who watch his sweet, chubby roommate with eagle eyes. anticipating your every move and watch as your hips roll to meet the poor plushie who is being squeezed by your creamy thighs. your hand forming into a fist as you grip your sheets.

roommate! geto is rock hard from watching you pleasure yourself. never did he thought that you can be this alluring. his cock straining his pants uncomfortably. palming to relieve the pressure from how good you are grinding that plushie.

roommate! geto who wishes that his face is in the place of your plushie while he eats you outs. lick your folds and suck that cute, little clit of your. be suffocated by your creamy thighs around his head while you call his name.

roommate! geto grunting as he tugs on his pants, boxers following to jerk his cock to the rhythm of your grinding. beads of pre-cum leaking through his tip. eyes closing in bliss to the sound of your moans. he's not even scared that your gentleman of a roomie is jerking at your door.

roommate! geto who cums hard from the sound of your whining as you came. panting and huffing slightly as you rode out your orgasm. hugging your pillow tighter from the sparks of pleasure coursing through your core.

roommate! geto is quick to clean himself up and made a beeline to his room. it's like he didn't hear his roomie masturbating to some porno. he can't get out of his brain to the memory of you. your soft, plush body in all glory and the soft rolls of your back and the sound of your voice burned in his memory.

roommate! geto acts like nothing happened. acts like he didn't watch you pleasure yourself while you walked to your shared kitchen. fetching yourself a pitcher of water from the fridge and he never leave his sight on you. raking the expanse of your body. the plumpness of your stomach, the thickness of your thighs, the swell in your chest and lastly, that cute round face of yours that can get away with a crime. oh, how adorable you are and he wonder if you'll make the same when he's the one whose making you cum. again and again.

roommate! geto hears you talk through the phone with your friend. it's not like he's eavesdropping. it's an accident of course. the thin walls are to be blamed. you sound so worried about going to a date and learning you are not experienced and afraid that you might be able to please your date if you two can get down to business.

roommate! geto casually talking to you until cornering you to open up about the upcoming date. sharing a few tips to keep the guy interested in you, he says but in honesty he don't want you going on a date with a stranger.

roommate! geto listening to you who naively gives him details about your date and how worried you are since you have no idea what is about to go on and him casually suggesting he can teach you.

roommate! geto convincing you to do it and he got you now seated warmly in his lap.

roommate! geto who whispers you sweet nothings. telling you that you should not be nervous while his large hands are in your round stomach. groping and squeezing the malleable flesh like he can't believe how soft and squishy it was.

roommate! geto telling you to relax. it won't be good if you're moving that much and how would he be able to teach properly if you keep squirming and so he began to kiss your round shoulder to your neck and then to your cheeks. praising you how a good girl you are when he felt you relax and your back is comfortably pressed against his chest. totally leaning on him and suguru welcomes your added weight. he just can't wait to eat you.

roommate! geto is playing the hem of your panties before pulling it down. spreading your thick legs for his hand to cup your heat. he tells you that for to please someone you need to know what you want first. caressing the inside of your soft thighs before his fingers slowly rubs your folds like he was testing the waters and it earns him you. your breath hitching and your voice turning into soft mewls.

roommate! geto parting your folds with his fingers before dipping it to caress the squishy flesh of your labia. the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit which earned a gasp from you and he knows it's going to be good from the way you act. “does it feel good?” he murmurs. his lips muffled in the skin of your neck. his index finger poking your hole. “want me to stretch this tight hole of yours?” he hears you say yes. nodding in desperation and fuck did it feel so tight. his thick finger is only in and your hole doesn't feel like accepting it so he added another finger that got you squirming uncontrollably around him.

roommate! geto shuts your mewling with a kiss. shoving his tongue insider your mouth and began swirling the wet muscle while he added a third of his fingers to your pussy that is already weeping with slick. his fingers simultaneously pumping your insides while he kisses his cute roommate. drool seeping in the corners of your mouth. “you like my fingers inside you? much better than your cute plushies, is it?”

roommate! geto who never leaves his sight when you came undone to his fingers. coated with your delicious slick and he needs to eat that pussy of yours. he licks his fingers clean while you watch and you're so damn adorable. your flustered expression like you're one innocent roommate of his.

roommate! geto whose hard on is pressed against your ass. desperate in need of attention and he knows he's leaking and need to feel that soft cunt around his hard cock but he must let you feel the outline of his cock when you're humping him. your plushies won't be no good after this. he needs you to rely your pleasures to him.

roommate! geto turns your around to face him. your legs are besides his own. completely straddling him and your fat pussy is above his clothed erection. soaking his boxers with your slick. you feel him underneath you. throbbing and pulsing and you can feel the veins wrapped around his cock and the feeling of it shoots sparks of pleasure deep inside you.

roommate! geto looking so beautiful below you. his long jet black hair cascading down his lower back and his bangs is framing his sculpted face. a thin sheen of sweat in his forehead and the stray hairs of sticks to his forehead but he looks beautiful nonetheless but it was nothing compared to his roomie who is straddling him. staring at him with those cute doe eye of yours and effortlessly not-so-looking fucked but he knows he's getting nearer. his hold on your back firm and he can't help but to mesmerized at your fat cunt pressed in his clothed cock.

roommate! geto who guides you to move your hips as your grind on his cock. his large hands are in your plush waist while he builds the rhythm that is both good for you and him. he watches you through lidded eyes from how your mouth is slightly patter. slow moans escaping from them as your soaked folds are in his cock. your clit is rubbing to the outline of his cock and it makes you squeal when he forces you to grind harder.

roommate! geto who's in full force to take advantage of this. it's not even teaching you anymore. it can wait for a another day or the later night. is just it feels too good to have you above him. your puffy folds are weeping in his cock and it just makes his cock throb more from the delicious friction of your cunt. he can't also help that your skin is exposed and begging to be marked by him and so he did. he's putting hickeys while you cry. your fingers are threading his hair as you grab them. unconsciously pulling them as you grins on his cock.

roommate! geto cums hard and he's sure his boxers are stained with his cum. groaning from his release and pulls you to kiss him in which he does with passion. fervently kissing you like there's no tomorrow.

roommate! geto who helps you clean up after that. he can teach you about it later and telling you to rest after that. makes sure you're properly resting after that exhausting and it was worth every single second of it. he can just wait to fuck you and forget that stupid date but it was thanks to that he got you.

roommate! geto is now teaching you how to properly blow someone. that's why you're in between his muscled legs. kneeling between them as you stroke his cock like he instructed you two and now you're licking the tip of his cock. his hands holding both of your round cheeks. “breath through your nose, baby.” his voice gentle as he teaches you. you're taking his cock now and it makes your eyes prick with tears as the tip of his cock is now hitting the back of your throat.

roommate! geto whose moans are sexier and is music to your ears. that's why you're slowly bobbing your head to get more of his length. it doesn't help that he's thick that's why you have to take him in your mouth while your eyes burn with tears. you take of what's left of his length to your hands. squeezing it occasionally and feel it throb to your hands. you also fondle his balls that gets him riled up. it doesn't take long that he's shooting off his load deep in your throat. almost making you gag but you take it. swallowing his warm cum down your throat and opening your mouth that you swallow all of his load.

roommate! geto who says that you're ready and it's now up to you and he's sure that you'll be able to please your date. although he's jealous deep inside that it's not him and he's a little happy that you're pleased with your work.

roommate! geto anticipated the time were you're prepared for the date. he makes sure he's cleared of any errands that he needed to do. he can't have someone taking you that is not him. so he waited for you to get dolled up and the breath is knocked out of his lungs when he sees you all dressed up. looking so adorable and divine. the dress you picked up is highlighting all of your curves. it doesn't help that you asked him how you look and he loses control.

roommate! geto who easily picks you up despite your weight. ignoring your protests as he hoists you up in both of your shared kitchen marbled top. you're asking him what gotten into him and he's hungrily claiming you. his apologies late as he tears the dress off you. “forgive me, tell your date that you're not meeting him tonight. i just can't let him have you.”

roommate! geto who takes you that night. making you forget that you have the date as he got his head between your legs. slurping that delight that your pussy releases. his head being crushed by your thick thighs almost suffocating him but he doesn't care. he got you screaming that night as he squeezes and licks every stretch mark he can find. making you're worshipped and fucked by his cock.

roommate! geto takes you to his room and never letting you leave him until you're stuffed full of his cum and leaking in his bed in which he finds satisfying. no one can have you now that is not him.

roommate! geto pulls you closer to him as he cuddled into you. both of you are naked covered in his sheets while he kisses the top of your head. his hands are warmed by your love handles and just relishes on the softness of your body against his hard ones.

roommate! geto who stares at you while sleep peacefully. so beautiful and adorable in his eyes. his roommate. he knows now that he's fully smitten to you now and he hopes you feel the same or else he's just going to fuck you until you say you love him.

roommate! geto is contented. it's not always an accident when he catches you pleasuring yourself and is not a one time. he got you under him all the time and now, he won't never let his eyes take off on you.

[ellecdc]

Yaaay:D

That poly moonwater sickfic was so sweet- maybe you could write a sequel where one (or both) of the boys get sick from when they were helping care for you <3

I love these little requests from all the way back in May - it's like a little treasure trove. Also, I wrote this while currently sick and tired (both in the literal sense) so I'm not actually sure how this turned out; it took me a really long time to manage what I got so I apologize for inconsistencies or just all around poor writing <3

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who got Reg sick [1k words]

CW: sick fic, fluff, Remus being The Worst™ [positive and affectionate], my potentially poor writing

You scrunched your eyes closed and threw your head back rather roughly against the sofa; arms that were holding your book falling limp into your lap.

Remus - less theatrical - did not throw his head back nor did he let his book fall into his lap, but he too scrunched his eyes shut with an equally exasperated scrunch of his nose. 

“Who gave him that thing?” You grumbled as you tucked a bookmark in to save your page and made to stand.

“Do you want me to go, dove?” He offered softly, giving you a sympathetic look when he caught you by the wrist as you made to walk past him. 

“No.” You grumbled rather petulantly, kissing the space between his brows when they furrowed further in sympathy. “It’s my fault, I’ll go.”

Remus smiled at you before pursing his lips in ask which you quickly answered by placing a kiss there, too. “I hardly think you did this on purpose.”

The - now ear splitting - sound of the bell ringing again interrupted your moment as you let out a sigh.

“No,” you agreed, “I certainly didn’t do this on purpose.” 

You poked your head into the bedroom to see Regulus much in the same way you left him, curled up in the fetal position under a mountain of blankets, though his hand was currently poking out of said blankets with his bell held tightly in his grasp.

“Hey bubs.” You offered gently; knowing that for as nettlesome as you currently found him, you really had sort of done this to him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Awful.” He muttered, barely putting any effort into aiming as he tossed the bell back in the direction of the bedside table.

You made a sympathetic humming sound as you perched on the edge of the bed and pushed some of his curls away from his forehead. “What can I do for you?”

“Can I have more meds?” He whimpered, voice awfully small as if he already knew the answer but was hoping to elicit some compassion.

You grimaced as you looked at the clock sitting beside balled up tissues, the damned bell you’d supplied him with, a glass half full of water with a pitcher next to it, and some lozenges. “I’m sorry, my love; it’s not been long enough.”

Your response was met with a petulant whine, a body burrowing further into the blankets, and a hand slithering into yours. 

“How about I rub some more vaporub on your chest, hm?” You asked, beginning to pull away without waiting for an answer, only for his hand to tighten on yours.

“Can you just sit here with me?” 

You cooed almost embarrassingly as you settled more comfortably beside him, one hand holding his as the other raked through his hair, “of course” falling so easily from your lips when he looked so young, so vulnerable, and so innocent with his pink flushed cheeks and glassy eyes no doubt from the pressure in his sinuses. 

“I’ve been terribly troublesome, haven’t I?” He asked a few moments later, startling you when you thought he’d been drifting off.

“No, darling.” You denied, though he lifted his head slightly so he could give you a disbelieving look. “You’ve not been terribly troublesome.” You amended, earning you an almost snort of laughter that quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. 

You helped him sit up and passed him his glass of water.

“You’re so nice to me.” He whispered as if the feeling of your lips against his temple was a foreign concept. You tried to quell your smile as you pressed another kiss to his fever warmed skin.

“I’m really not, bubs. I did this to you, remember?”

You were met with silence as Regulus’ eyes darted around your face. “You’re so mean to me.” 

“Awe Reg, come on now.” Remus sounded from the door as he walked in with a cup of tea in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean.” Regulus harrumphed, though his ire was quickly undermined as he made grabby hands for the cup of tea. 

“If Remus catches this next, this flu will have had an almost month-long stint in this house.” You mused as Regulus drank his tea.

“I don’t get sick.” Remus offered nonchalantly with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“What do you mean you don’t get sick.” Regulus all but sneered as he glowered at his perfectly healthy boyfriend over the rim of his tea cup. 

“I don’t get sick.” Remus repeated. “It’s like the universe has decided I’ve got enough shite to deal with, my immune system’s just not one of them.”

Both you and Regulus blinked at him with varying levels of jealousy whilst he brushed lint off the sleeve of his arm. 

“Well isn’t that just fucking dandy for you.” You spat eventually, causing Regulus to nearly spit out his tea in laughter as Remus’ mouth fell open in faux offence. 

“You minx.” He accused you. “I’m in here helping you help your boyfriend-”

“My boyfriend!?” You squealed.

“-who you got sick. I think you should be rather grateful.” 

“Grateful.” You scoffed as you turned to look at Regulus like ‘can you believe this guy?’. 

“I’m grateful for you, Rem.” Regulus let out with a sigh as he handed Remus the cup of tea back and moved to recline against his pillows - that you’d fluffed to perfection for him - with Remus’ damp cloth on his forehead. 

“Okay, well, since you’re all so well taken care of up here.” You teased as you made to stand, Regulus circling his hand around your wrist as Remus made a protesting squawk before you were being manhandled into his lap, though your hand remained safely in Regulus’. 

“No.” Remus murmured into your neck. “We need you to nurse us back to health.”

“I thought you don’t get sick.” You accused.

“I don’t, but I find myself deficient in vitamin you.”

Both you and Regulus groaned as you tried to wriggle yourself free from Remus’ grasp and Regulus buried his head under the blankets. 

“Both of you out, all this corny flirting is making me nauseous again.” Regulus grumbled.

“Well, you heard the man.” Remus stage whispered quickly before he was all but shoving you out of the room. “Feel better bubs! You know where to find us!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Regulus called. “I’ll just ring the sodding bell.”

“You should have never given him that bell, dove.”

[ameliathornromance]

“(Y/N), I’m back.” The familiar voice echoed through the encampment.

You bolted out of your tent. He’s back, finally. The last few days had been tough on you.

With a swollen belly, sore feet, and a ferocious hunger, you had begged your Orc Boyfriend to bring you some Deer.

The initial months of your pregnancy were good. You weren’t having morning sickness; you were happy and comfortable.

Your Orc Boyfriend could not stop talking about it from the moment you found out you were pregnant.

“Yes, of course I’d like extra food. Anything for the baby.”

“Of course I’ll take those furs. My pregnant partner needs all the comfort she can get.”

“No, I’m sorry. I can’t go out for the hunt today. My love needs me to help her pick out names for our baby.”

You worried that the other members of the camp would deck your boyfriend if he continued on with it. “I know you’re happy,” you had told him as he draped another fur blanket over your head. “But if you keep this up, I’m worried that the others will sew your mouth shut.”

“Even then, they wouldn’t be able to keep me quiet.” Your Orc grinned as he tucked you into your shared bed. “I’d still find a way to tell them.”

At that, you rolled your eyes and sighed, settling into the covers.

Now you were around the 6 month mark of your pregnancy, your cravings had shot up. You wanted Deer meat. Deer consumed your every thought. Deer, Deer, Deer. Sometimes, the situation became unbearable and tears would flow uncontrollably. Your Orc did his best to comfort you: “there’ll be some more later, don’t worry my love.” He’d sooth you.

Deer were very difficult to catch. They’re quick, light on their feet, skittish. Especially if there’s an Orc approaching. You need someone who was good with a bow and arrows to kill one.

But somehow, your Orc Boyfriend had done it. He was no good with a bow and arrow, but he had done it. Your eyes raked the camp, other Orcs who spotted you chuckling at your expression.

“He’s over there, lass.” Said one, who pointed towards the dining area. “Wanted to make you something nice because you’d been suffering.”

You didn’t even thank him. You charged towards the food preparation area and found him, skinning the animal that you fiercely hungered for.

Your Orc Boyfriend spotted you walking towards him and chuckled. “Be patient,” he said to you as you leaned over his arm. “I don’t want to give you raw meat. It won’t be good for you or the baby.”

You’d take anything you could. Even if the meat was raw. But at your Orc’s gentle hand, caressing your stomach, you grumbled. But stepped back so he could cook.

Sitting on a tree stump, other Orcs passed by. Some offering you Berrys and other fruits to stave off your growling belly while you waited. Gratefully, you took the fruit from them, thanked them.

The camp was incredibly accommodating for you. Female Orcs were rare to come by. Seeing how they clashed with their male counterparts, Orc children were rare. Naturally, everyone was eager to see the baby.

Finally, the Deer was ready. Cooked on an open fire, salted and peppered, you and your Orc Boyfriend sat down together.

As soon as the meat touched your lips, it disappeared in an instant. The craving had settled as you finished your last bite. You let out a satisfied sigh as your Orc’s eyes widened at your empty plate. “Did you inhale it?” He asked, shocked.

You burst out laughing and hit him hard on the shoulder. “No! It just tasted great.” You said.

Your Orc chuckled as he caressed your shoulder.

There was a water pitcher on the opposite side of your boyfriend. You reached for it, doing your best to reach across from him. “Good, I’m glad to hear it. I was worried I’d shocked the thing. I practically had to body tackle it.” He said, taking the water pitcher and handing it to you.

As you gulped down the water from the spout, you choked. “’Body tackle it’!?”

Your boyfriend patted you on the back. Once he was sure you were alright, he replied, “yes. I had to climb into a tree and wait for one to come by the lake nearby. It was lucky the branches snapped when the deer was directly beneath me.”

“You’re not hurt, are you?” You gave a quick glance over his form. If your boyfriend had got hurt while trying to capture a Deer, you’d feel awful. The last thing you wanted was the father of your baby to get hurt.

Your Orc chuckled again and reassured, “I’m fine, don’t worry. Orcs possess of stronger endurance than humans.” He thumped his chest with a fist.

Relief washed over you. You knew he wasn’t human, but that wouldn’t stop you from worrying for his safety. “Thank you for getting the Deer. You’re the best partner anyone could wish for.” Tracing his muscular arms, you leaned against him.

Your Orc smiled back, leaning down and pecking you on the lips. “I know.” Rolling your eyes, and looked out to the rest of the camp as they went about their day, the sun setting over the surrounding forest.

Hello everyone! I just wanted to say thank you for helping me pass 100 followers. It makes me really happy that people are enjoying my work.

Patreon

[artsycervidae]

Untitled #1

Summary: Gyutaro helps his sister out of a tight situation at school. But their troubles reach beyond the bounds of education.

Word Count: 4.5k

Author's Note: I don't have much explanation for this. I was playing in the hoodie-based daydreams and the 'repurposed' jacket. I've also been listening to a lot of YA lately. So I respun their snow scene for a modern AU angle. This is like a flashback chapter I guess? Have fun.

Warnings ahead: delinquent behavior, parentalization of children, domestic violence, extreme bullying, implied sexual harassment of a child (Ume's tragic backstory being foreshadowed), and Gyutaro's whole everything (self-harm, briefly considers kicking a puppy, patronizing misogyny)

Crack!

A volley of cheers chase the ball as it soars into the outfield. High school players scramble, red high-visibility jerseys flashing in time to sprinting steps. The player in blue lowers his bat, disbelieving and frozen for a moment. "Run Monjiro!" a loud command explodes from the pit. His other teammates clap and holler as he bursts into action. He bolts for first base and, a wild grin on his face, dares to steal second. Even from the middle school building, the athlete's exerberance is palpable. But the middle school sits uphill from both the field and high school-- it's easy to see anything from that vantage point.

Gyutaro watches, his own bat tapping the ground in impatient count. His empty hand idly scratches the spot behind his ear and his uneven nails rake thin lines into his scalp. He should recognize the name but he doesn't. Only the voices, attributed to faces that he passes on a near-daily basis in droning hallways. The cigarette hanging off his lower lip burns down to the filter. The acrid taste used to bother him more than the smoke. Now, what he wouldn't give to have a whole pack for himself-- but then, he couldn't help but imagine the rich tobacco rolled in yen bills. Burning through money when they had so little of it was something his mother did. He would rather smoke every butt off the street for the rest of his life than deprive his sister of a single cent.

The loudmouth is up next. He rolls his shoulders and gestures grandly to his second base comrade, pointing with a blue steel bat and declaring intentions to bring everyone home and end the game early. It's hubris in the disguise of kindness-- the overcast clouds have become fat and white, and the wind nips at everyone's cheeks and noses. Gyutaro prepares himself, spitting the litter back onto the ground and crushing it under his heel.

The blue team ambassador steps up to the plate, and Gyutaro mirrors the behavior. His feet spread to shoulder width, his hips cock, and his arms pull back. Even now his posture is wrong, and he knows it. The acute, tugging pain between his shoulder blades deters correction. His spine won't--can't-- twist that way. No matter. Gyutaro only needs a single, powerful swing. The batter cackles, and the blond pitcher shouts something that sounds admonishing. But then he reels back and throws the ball.

Crack!

A flawless home run, right over head of the second base runner, who predicts victory. He runs for it. The crowd goes crazy. The ball has been launched so high that even Gyutaro loses sight of it in the snowdrift sky. He finishes his silent count anyway. He swings.

SMASH!

His bat crashes into the nearby window. Gyutaro moves with the swing and breaks into a run for the school's front yard. It had been clear only two minutes ago-- he made sure of it-- but suddenly, there's someone there in the form of a smudge, barely there in the corner of his vision. He doesn't know if they spot him as a dark blur before he darts for his escape route. He kicks aside the rock that served as a makeshift doorstop and yanks the service door closed behind him. The card-reader outside won't stall the mystery person if they're a school employee, though. So he doesn't stop.

He runs down the hall to the locker room and begins opening lockers. Upon his first two pilferings, he pushes the bags around in exasperation. He pockets the spare money sitting unguarded before leaving them be. The third is empty. In the fourth locker is a giant, ugly red jacket. It must be sentimental or one of the adult's. It's far too big for a child or teenager. It's old too-- the cotton is rough on his dry skin. Too many hot water wash cycles. The black pattern on it is erratic, rivulets of ink crookedly dripping down between bold gutters.

It's an ugly article. But it's unlike the dark denim he currently dons, and something about it strikes a sympathetic chord with him. He empties his pockets into the red hoodie and takes it, abandoning the denim one in one of the dozens of lockers to be lost then found. He leaves the baseball bat propped against the bench then moves on, leaving through the gymnasium and toward the hallway.

This time, he opens the door carefully and peers through the crack first. His objective is four doors down the hall, but there still stands an obstacle. The teacher lingers outside the door, a flash of bandage obscured as he methodically smooths the fabric over his forearms. He moves so slowly and easily that Gyutaro mentally swears at him. 'Go on. Hurry up, bastard. Move! Check it out, you asshole.'

With pursed lips and a presentable appearance, the teacher finally obliges. He strides for the closest exit, which is a more direct route to the side of the building that overlooks the baseball field. Gyutaro planned it this way. The seal cracks-- a sudden flood of shouting voices, near and far-- and when the door falls heavily back into its frame, silence settles again. Gyutaro slinks from the gym and quietly jogs down to the open classroom.

Ume stands suddenly, her hands pushing off the desk she was pouting at. He can see the flash of fear in her eyes, so he clasps his hands jovially. "... Weather check. Snow's coming, so I'm taking you home." Her jaw unclenches. "Get ready," Gyutaro commands and she nods obediently. As she pulls her outdoor shoes and jacket from her gym bag (she slyly kept her belongings on hand-- smart girl), he stands guard and strains to listen. Nobody comes for them. Neither the gym nor hallway exits are disturbed.

"Ready," Ume announces. Gyutaro leaves his post as sentry, wheeling around desks to meet her at the window. She opens it as he takes her duffel bag, lugging it over his shoulder before he swings himself over, bag and all. She tosses her backpack out and perches on the windowsill. He holds his arms out for her to steady herself, and then she drops to her feet.

"Hurry, hurry," he whispers as she picks up her bag, and they hustle. He tugs on her arm to slow her when he sees the small crowd forming at the southeast corner of her school. Thankfully, nobody is looking their way at all. Everyone seems preoccupied with a sports-related mishap. He's scrawny enough that he could be mistaken for an oversized preadolescent from afar. But one look at his face-- his bruised eyes, broken teeth, and cynical scowl-- betrays his true nature as an abominable creature... the godforsaken teen. He wants to maintain that distance, and the upper hand. "Did they already make you call Mom?"

He can feel her bicep tense as she grimaces. "Yeah. I got her voicemail. We were waiting for her to answer, so they could arrange a meeting."

This wasn't so much a problem. Their mother had a habit of vanishing for periods at a time, leaving her personal phone in a drawer by the front door as a sign for her children to figure shit out on their own. Gyutaro had a system for this by now. "I'll listen to it when we get home and smooth it over," he promises. They pass the fence dictating the school yard property-- they are home free now. He releases his hold on her and they fall into a natural pace. "What the hell did you do to that guy?"

Ume sticks out her lower lip and her eyebrow twitches.

"Better yet," he amends, "what did he do to deserve it?"

Her attitude unexpectedly strikes him. "None of your business," she snaps.

He blinks and curls his upper lip with dismay. "It is my business when you get held after school," he bites in return. "Let me tell you the rumors: he's already saying you stabbed him unprovoked, talking some trash about how you came to ask his kid for lunch money. And when the kid wouldn't give you any, you threatened him with a pencil but stabbed the teacher instead."

"That's not what happened!" She glares at him, as if he had anything to do with this mistake. "He was the one who came to me! He wanted me to eat lunch with him again, so I told him to give me money so I could get it for us. But he said--" She stammers over the words twice, thrice, then abandons them for her previous thought. "I just wanted him to give me the money. Since he paid for yesterday's lunch, too, remember? And he kept saying no, so I... I just wanted to scare him. I didn't know that the teacher was going to grab me. I freaked out."

It makes more sense to him now. "Settle down," Gyutaro soothes. "I don't blame you. I just... hate what's happened." Namely, he hates that she was sent to school without food and that he was being nagged at after class when he should have been the one shaking kids down at lunch. She wasn't supposed to accept unsolicited kindness to begin with. But that was in the past-- he couldn't blame her for being hungry or for trusting someone who offered good intentions, the son of a teacher, no less. She still lacks the valuable insight her brother tried to instill her with: Authority isn't a title so much as it is a threat and a weapon.

"I didn't even stab the teacher," she adds, "... too much. The lead broke off in him but that's it. The nurse said it probably didn't need stitches. It's not like I used a knife or hairpin."

"He didn't involve the police, did he?"

"No." She swallows, but even that doesn't stop her from choking up halfway through her explanation. "But... that stupid kid wouldn't stop smiling when I was getting yelled at. When the teachers looked at him, he would pretend to be all serious and hurt... if it weren't for all those adults, I would have hurt him for real."

Gyutaro swears to remedy this injustice. He doesn't know how yet, but he will. "Let's get home and warmed up first," he schemes, "and then I'll handle everything at school." He takes his sister's hand and squeezes it, receiving a lackluster pulse in response. His thoughts are torn. A part of him has to acknowledge that he's only just begun his high school career. With two more years to go, he's already landed a spot on most teachers' shit lists, without physically fighting them thus far. If he tries to intimidate another educator-- one from a school Gyutaro had already been evicted from--he may get kicked out for good.

His mom always insisted that her eldest son would one day throw his future down the drain. During the worst of their arguments, this terrible truth cut him down to the bone. Now, it twinges at his heart like an old injury foretelling a storm. If he proves their mom right, then what will that mean for Ume? He needs all his focus and willpower to plot his sister's vengeance and get clean away with it.

Something is wrong, though. Ume stares into the distance with an uncharacteristically pensiveness... like all in her mind is muted. She shivers and it's only then he realizes how cold the temperature has gotten. They're nearly home, but he doubts Ume can manage the rest of the trek without a break. Her shoulders are drawn in tightly, hugging herself and trying to turtle into her own denim jacket. It was a bleach-splattered hand-me-down she had patched up, bedazzled, and marked excessively with a rainbow of permanent markers, making it entirely her own. She clearly picked it this morning in hopes of looking good, not for its insulation.

"Come here," he sighs, jerking his head to a nearby bus stop. Its cover from the wind alone will make all the difference. Soft, white flurries drift into view by the time Gyutaro's skinny ass falls on the bench. He heaves air in and out of his lungs, feeling the ebb and pull of his diaphragm, watching vapor appear and vanish before his eyes. He unconsciously moves to straighten his posture fraction by fraction; the familiar pinch of pain escalates until it's a hand grasping him by the spinal column.

Ume disrupts his ritual. She slouches and leans into his clavicle as her arms snake around his waist. He scoffs out a laugh-- he doesn't know what body heat she's searching for, but the gesture is one so familiar that it takes him a moment to push her away. "You're too old to be cuddling me, Ume."

"Please."

The cold finally settles into his body, and somehow he hears the fear and hurt in her voice at the same time. All resistance leaves him and he instead unzips his jacket, ceding one of the sleeves to her. She tucks into his chest and zips the hoodie up as high as she can without misaligning its teeth. He feels silly for not expecting her clinging after the bad day she's had. Another thing she never outgrew: the animal need to be held and comforted when uneasy. In that way, she will always be his baby sister.

The proximity rings reminiscent to other pin points of their shared lifeline: a toddler and infant laid down for the same naptime in the same laundry basket under the same blanket; two elementary kids sharing a futon because Ume still believed in nocturnal cannibals and wanted to be protected; two students lounging on the couch, a blanket thrown over their legs as she reads a beauty magazine and he plays a game, killing time while the heater was broken.

His sister sniffs and picks at the hoodie. "Where did you get this? It smells like cigarettes."

He doesn't have a magazine to distract her with. But he reaches into the jacket's large pocket and withdraws the very same portable game system he had stolen from a schoolmate years ago. "Here," he tells her, then as she boots it up he says, "Beat this guy for me."

As the brass horns of the soundtrack play through tinny, aged speakers, Ume hums at his in-game decisions. "Can't you just brute force your way through?"

"I could. I don't want to though. I want to beat him using this team."

She goes to the in-game shop--

"Don't spend all my money."

"I won't!"

-- and splurges on items she doesn't need. Gyutaro withholds from sighing in exasperation. He watches her assess her starting point and begin the trial. Her first opponent is easy, but she struggles because she didn't check her team and their moves and abilities. The second opponent wipes her team out, erasing her progress and sending her to the last respawn. She pauses at the beginning of the trial again.

"... Am I a bad kid?"

The question takes the breath out of Gyutaro. "What? No. Of course not. Who said that?"

She didn't need to give him a direct answer: instead she released a shaking sigh. Pearl-like tears bead at her eyelashes before falling down her cheeks. "I don't know why everyone was so angry at me." Her voice creaks, and a whine starts in the back of her throat. "We were both a part of that fight, but he got to go home on time. I missed lunch and dinner, and nobody would listen to me.

"They kept saying I should have been polite because he was doing me a favor. But nobody asked why he wasn't being kinder. Like, why did he start a fight if he was going to have to call for his dad?" her voice warbles. She swallows hard and tries to clarify: "I was so alone. It was unfair. Nobody was on my side. And I wished so badly that you were there... They kept saying that bad kids like me could lose their families... and that if I didn't act better, then I'd be taken away from you and Mom."

Gyutaro studies her. She's supposedly unhurt, and yet he recognizes the way her brows knit together and her lips peel away from her teeth. It's an expression he only ever saw on himself, in brief moments when his bullies would snap embarrassing photos of him beaten down and crying: evidence of him at his lowest. In text chains and email posts, he bore witness to a simulacrum of his cornered self through the lens of how everyone else viewed him. A figment that held no autonomy or freedom to fight back, and who should have done things differently--or simply not been his own self-- if he didn't want to be so pathetic. A sad sack. Wretch. Coward.

He seizes Ume around her middle, squeezing all that fear and worry out of her. She squeaks the air out of her lungs, but before she can complain he overwhelms her. "You're not alone, Ume. I'll never leave your side. Even hungry and cold, you're not scared at all, right? Look at you, standing up to a room full of idiot adults, and then breaking out! You're the bravest person I know."

She's startled, but allows herself to be squeezed and rocked by him. With each little sway, fear is filtered out of her, leaving only the surreal relief that comes from a good hug. Fluttering agony in her ribcage becomes a warm, singing fondness. "Says you. I can't believe you snuck into school for me. I was so scared I was going to have to tell them Mom was gone. I knew they wouldn't let you come to get me."

At the same time, she knew all along her brother would come for her. With their mother off on another one of her long absences, he is the one responsible for her. When Ume is hurt or scared and the whole world is collapsing around her, it is her big brother who puts the pieces back together, reminding her that nothing is ever a big deal as long as they have each other.

Her defenses melt away, until he pushes her out of his jacket, determining that they had warmed up enough to make the walk back home. Even then, she clings to his back by balling her cold fingers into the excess red and black fabric, ignoring her brother's complaints of her dragging him down. Everything she's been holding back threatens to burst out of her. "Will you come back to middle school with me?" she asks.

Gyutaro guffaws out loud.

"I mean it!" she wails, even though she can hear how stupid she sounds. He already walks her right up to the middle school yard before making his long, lonely route to the neighboring high school. (He'd been caught trespassing through enough times that there now stands a proctor in the yard at most times of day.) He sneaks out at lunch time to make sure she eats, then passes on after-school activities to walk her home. He's done everything short of turn back time so that their ages could match as lifelong companions.

"How about you hurry and grow up?" he suggests before he's yanked to a stop altogether. He frowns and pulls his limbs to no avail-- she's captured him in a sudden hold. "Ume?" She's hurting him, seizing onto his arms with a vice grip that makes him worry initially that somehow he is the one hurting her.

"I don't want to go back without you," she confesses. "Can I call out sick tomorrow? Please?"

He hesitates and looks down at her big, watery eyes before saying, "Sure... we'll say you got sick from the weather."

She doesn't need to explain it to him--the hum of a live wire hangs in the air between them. But her brother thinks of her as brave, so she swallows down her uncertainty and tells him: "He was my boyfriend."

That stops Gyutaro's brain in its tracks. "... You have a boyfriend?" He can't help sounding hurt that she didn't trust him with this knowledge before its ugly fallout. She was getting older. There were steadily less milestones to celebrate, and her first crush had come and gone without a single ounce of fanfare. No sooner than he says this, Ume's displeasure twists her face. "You have a boyfriend," he repeats, letting that argument go.

"Had," she corrects. "I broke up with him because..." She teeters on the edge of another secret, but shakes her head dismissively. "I don't want to see him. I don't want to go to school anymore."

"Don't say that," says Gyutaro before she can consider running away. "I'll get you a sick day tomorrow, but you're going back after that. He's not going to retaliate, and you're not going to get in trouble. Don't let him win by scaring you off."

Ume jerks Gyutaro around by the back of his jacket again, clinging to him like a little spider monkey. "But his dad is a teacher!"

"I'm aware." He raises his arm and loops it around her shoulders. She stumbles, but he doesn't let her fall. Instead, he pulls her along in his stride. "And you're a student. You should get to go to school without worrying about how boys will treat you, Ume. I told you. I'll handle it. Now, do you wanna take the bath first while I make us some ramen?"

Of course she does. She loves to take her time and all the hot water, experimenting with exfoliants and perfumes and lotions like a little mad scientist. Gyutaro jolts as if to race her, and she abandons him, zipping up the stairwell in a flurry of shouts and fast-flying feet. Sometimes, he would overtake her and push her out of the way in a last-second display of brotherly cruelty. Not today. A glance over her shoulder confirms he's still making his way up the flight behind her, weighed down by her duffel bag; she twists to swing her backpack off her shoulder before she screams to a halt in front of the only door with a huge dent in the bottom corner. She finds her key among the mess of her supplies and hurriedly shoves her key into the lock. Ume has to yank it with all her body weight to dislodge the crooked hinge. It groans but relents.

She bursts in, tearing through the apartment and into her room like a hurricane. Then she's blockading herself in the bathroom while clutching her basket of shower goodies like a prize.

Gyutaro enters shortly after she's sequestered herself away, his chest heaving. This is not a symptom of his exertion as his sister would believe. He stumbles into the kitchen and grips the counter, baring his teeth and trying to tamper down the rising tide of bile. His hands shake, incapable of holding in so much hate.

He barely keeps his shit together until Ume's pop music thumps from the other side of the door. Then he drags his uneven nails up and down his throat, wishing he could peel the skin away and wash it down the drain. The trickle of a snarl cracks his throat, and the loathsome noise brings him to the full peak of his anger. Keratin rips his skin and he feels his neck flush hot. Swearing, he twists the tap to full blast and cups his hand under it, splashing himself. He soaks his new jacket in water and blood. Ume yelps from the other room, and he shuts the kitchen faucet off quick. He tenderly taps at the self-inflicted cut, hissing through his teeth and seething.

He refuses to accept any of this: Some brat thinks he can sully Ume's childhood with his own selfish agenda, as though his delights and joys were more valuable than hers. And there was the father's audacity to use his beneficial position... Fuck broken windows. Fuck the disembodied threats of an invisible parental figure... it was due time for them to pay for taking advantage of Shabana Ume.

But he had to deliver a real message. He wouldn't settle for something basic like kicking the boy's dog while out on a walk, or holding the teacher up with a knife in some dark corner at night... why hope for a fated meeting when he could strike them at the heart? Break into their house. Take whatever looks pricey before ransacking and destroying the kitchen. See how they like it, being starved of peace of mind. He needs only their address. He pushes himself away from the sink, steering right for the drawer holding the family laptop and Mom's phone.

The phone is an afterthought-- when he yanks the drawer open, it slides out into view. The charger port bangs in the corner which lights up the screen.

Three missed calls from Ume's school. A voicemail from Ume's school.

A missed call from an unknown number.

Plots of vengeance vanish from his mind. Something far more dangerous and sinister takes its place. It's too soon for anyone to be looking for her... no way. No way someone actually gave a shit enough about their mom that someone wanted to check on her.

He sucks air into his lungs and straightens his spine-- the slight curve strains against him, threatening to break if he doesn't bend. His fingernails rake through his hair, across his chest, and down his arms. He's trying to breathe, but his head feels too light and his vision is going red. When would they ever catch their breath?! Why is the universe conspiring against them so?

'... bad kids like me could lose their families... and that if I didn't act better, then I'd be taken away from you and Mom.'

He had bought them three months. For nine weeks, he and his sister evaded the government's prying eyes and the foster system's needling fingers. Failure after failure, Gyutaro sees the worst case scenario laying itself before him. The investigations. The police. The questions. What if they find the body? What if they blame him? What if he says he found her dead?

... It's inevitable. Nobody will believe him. There is no shortage of neighbors who can attest to the shouting matches that the Shabanas could have. The dent in the door was testament to the son's brutish rage-- a superhuman strength paired with delirious decision-making, the lengths to which he would go to in order to get what he wanted. At first glance, he was a sick boy. At second, a deeply misguided youth... but to all those who could bear a third look, there was something else lurking under his skin. Even his mother had been long convinced that 'Gyutaro' was only a disguise for a demon. Nobody who knew him ever afforded him the benefit of the doubt.

What if even Ume learns to look at him with horror and distrust, the way everyone else does?

Unacceptable. He won't allow it. He has to buy them more time.

[sarahopm]

Hey! Just a fanfiction that I started to write on Toji Fushiguro! I'm posting it here and on Wattpad!

𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙚 | 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 [Chapter 9]

The days following Toji's release were tense, and true to her prediction, he made sure to make her life as difficult as possible without resorting to physical harm.

He would constantly demand things of her, giving her tasks that were beyond her duties, and always had a snarky remark ready when she was around.

Toji would purposely create a messy room every day, scattering his clothing, leaving food wrappers and plates lying around, and generally making a mess.

Then, when it came time to clean, he would specifically ask for Helia to clean his room, refusing any other maid who tried to take on the task.

Helia was tired of this, he was acting like a child, a very annoying and arrogant child.

In addition to having her clean his room, Toji would constantly ask Helia to do pointless tasks for him.

He would demand her to bring him a glass of water despite there being a pitcher in the room or ask her to fetch books from the library even when he knew he wouldn't read any of them.

As Helia starts her shift for the day, she's both curious and wary about what Toji may have planned for her today.

She knows by now that he's always scheming something, so she stays on guard, ready for whatever he may throw at her.

The constant anticipation is exhausting, and she finds herself growing more and more on edge with each passing minute.

[...]

The sun begins to dip below the horizon, and when Helia was about to go back to the maid compound, she hears Toji calling out to her from his room, the sound of his voice breaking the silence.

"Hey, you." He calls out, his voice as grating as ever. "I need you for something."

Helia restrains an annoyed sigh, he hadn't even asked for her name, he would always call her 'you' or 'maid'.

She turns to him, a visible exhausted look on her face, the tone she uses is bitter as she tries to contain her anger.

"Yes sir. What is it?"

He smirks as he sees her looking worn down from the stress. He gestures for her to come closer, his eyes glittering with his favorite kind of mischief.

"Come here." He says, his voice low and commanding. "I need a bit of a... personal favor." He says, his tone suggestive. "Something only you can do for me."

Her anticipation starts to grow more and more. What did he prepare for her this time?

He grins, clearly enjoying the fact that she's at his beck and call. He motions for her to come closer, his eyes narrowed as he looks at her up and down.

Helia would love to punch him right now, but she remains as calm as she can. She puts a very fake and very forced smile on her face.

"Anything you need sir."

His smirk widens as she responds, his eyes raking over her. He takes a step closer to her, his body language intentionally close and intimate.

"I need you to massage my back." He says, his voice a low, suggestive murmur. "I've been feeling a bit tense, and I could really use your touch."

Helia has to stop her mouth from going wide open. Is he really serious? He wants her to massage his back. What kind of request is that?

She has never given any massage in her entire life, there are maid that are way more qualified than her for that.

But she knows very well that he's only doing this to infuriate her. She tries to respond in the calmest voice possible.

"If you want a good massage sir, there are other maids that are qualified for this, that's not my case."

He rolls his eyes, his smirk twisting into a slight frown as he leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

"No, no. I specifically want you to do it. You're a maid, you're here to serve me, right? So, this is part of your job."

Helia grits her teeth. He wasn't wrong, but she had no desire to serve him. She didn't want to put her hands on his back, even less to give him a massage.

She'd like to tell him to go to hell, but she doesn't want any problem. She had already slapped him; she can't refuse orders on top of that. The words are hard to pronounce.

"As you wish sir."

His smirk returns, his eyes lighting up at her obedient response. He pushes himself off the wall, moving closer to her until he's standing right in front of Helia, his body almost touching hers.

"Good." he says, his voice a low, satisfied murmur. "I knew you'd see reason. Now you can get to work."

He moves away from her and goes inside of the room. Helia doesn't even have the time to close the door behind her, that he already removes his shirt.

He lies down on his bed, on his stomach giving her access to his back, his broad shoulders and muscular back on full display. She can also see some scars all over his back.

"Get started then." He instructs, his voice commanding. "I expect a good massage out of you. Make sure you get every spot."

She looks at him laid out on the bed and she restrains another sigh. She knows he's enjoying this. But she won't give him satisfaction, not this time. She gets closer to him and sits on the bed to start her massage.

He initially relishes in the feeling of her hands on his back, his eyes closed, and his expression relaxed.

But as Helia begins to purposefully make her massage painful, he lets out a sharp grunt, his body tensing up.

"Hey. Not so hard. You're not supposed to hurt me, you know."

She restrains a smile as she continues her painful massage.

"I'm sorry sir, but I told you I wasn't qualified for this."

He lets out another grunt as her hands continue to press down on his back, his body twitching slightly from the pain. He's clearly regretting his decision now, but he's too stubborn and proud to tell her to stop.

He glances back over his shoulder at her, his expression a mixture of frustration and irritation.

"You're right." He snaps, his patience clearly waning. "You really don't know what you're doing. Are you trying to make this painful on purpose?"

Helia feigns innocence and lifts her eyebrows to pretend she's offended.

"Of course not sir, I would never dare."

He lets out a strangled grunt as her hands press down on a particularly sensitive spot, right next to a red scar, and his body tenses even more. Helia tries to press his back harder and harder each time.

"Seriously, dial it back." He snaps, his voice taut with frustration. "I'm not a slab of meat you're trying to tenderize. You're supposed to be massaging me, not trying to rip my back apart."

"You're the one who asked me to do a massage instead of a qualified maid, you're the one to blame sir."

Maybe that sentence was a bold move from her. She holds her breath waiting for his response.

He grits his teeth, his body still tense under her hands. He lets out a low, irritated sigh, clearly realizing that he did bring this upon himself by demanding her to give him a massage.

"Fine, fine." He mutters, his voice tight with frustration. "Just try to make it less painful, alright? I know you're not qualified, but you should be able to do a simple massage without trying to rip my back apart."

Oh, she wishes she could rip his back apart, like hers was ripped apart because of him.

[...]

Toji lets out a loud sigh as Helia's massage finally comes to an end, his body relaxing as her hands leave his back. He turns around to face her, his expression a mix of relief and irritation.

"Finally." He mutters, his voice gruff. "That was the worst back massage I've ever had."

Helia just wants to leave his room right now, she's tired of him. She sighs and tries to look as innocent as possible.

"You shouldn't have asked for a massage from me in the first place, sir."

Without waiting for an answer, she bows and gets ready to leave.

He snatches her arm, his grip firm but not painful. Here he goes again, grabbing people whenever he feels like it.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" He snaps, his voice still gruff. "You think you can just leave after giving me the worst massage of my life and not even apologize?"

Even if Helia would love to shut him up and insult him, she just wants to go to sleep after a very long day of work. She decides it's better not to cause more problems, she gives him a forced smile.

"Sorry sir."

He loosened his grip just enough for Helia to escape it. And without even looking back at him, Helia leaves the room.

He watches her leave with narrowed eyes, his expression still frustrated.

He knew he should've asked for something else, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to have a bit of fun tormenting Helia. He didn't even need a back massage in the first place.

And after all, she had a part in his imprisonment, so, it was only fair that he would make her life hell, just like she had made his during those weeks.

He leans back against the wall, his expression a mix of satisfaction and annoyance, his mind already plotting his next move.

"Damn infuriating girl." He growls to himself, his eyes narrowing further.

[...]

When walking in the corridors, Helia can't help but feel a small sense of triumph. She managed to make him regret asking her for a massage.

But then, her thoughts turn to what Toji's next move will be. She knows he won't let her little act of revenge lying down. He'll likely try to come up with another way to get back at her, to make her life difficult once more.

But for now, she has the satisfaction of having turned his plan against him.

[brucebocchi]

If Garreg Mach had sports, who would be on the baseball team?

no joke i actually laid this out in a few reddit comments like a year ago lemme find it

okay it's not a complete team but these are my thoughts on who would play what positions

Petra’s got shortstop written all over her, but she’s rangy and can rocket a ball anywhere on the field. Definitely a center fielder. She has excellent view of the whole field and can throw the ball anywhere in record time. She’d be a hell of a leadoff hitter too. Basically, she’s Dexter Fowler.

Dedue would be a brick shithouse in the infield but I always saw him as a catcher, the type who would guard home like his life depended on it. Anyone trying to score on him is forever changed.

Felix is the most stolen-on pitcher in the league because he keeps hucking the ball at Dimitri in left field for no reason

Ashe gives off middle-infield vibes

I feel like you could slot Ingrid in anywhere. I bet she’d be a hell of a pitcher.

Hubert definitely has the height and reach of a halfway decent outfielder. Doubt he can throw to any of the bases though.

Lysithea doesn't have much in the way of physical constitution, but infield feels right for her. That or right field so she doesn't have to do as much. She has never once robbed a home run.

Lorenz has his own cheering section in the left field bleachers

Edelgard at 2B and Yuri at short. Impossible to break through the middle infield.

Linhardt took 1B because he heard it was the easiest job on the field, and you can imagine how that went.

Flayn can fucking rake. She’s basically Jose Altuve.

[chickensarentcheap]

Little snippet :)

Some folks have been inquiring whether I would ever consider adding onto the first story or writing some pieces that include cannon things from the first movie. A long time ago, the OG story 'Lost and Found' was supposed to include 'flashbacks' of canon events. but I ended up not including them, and regrettably ending the fic way sooner than I'd really wanted to :(

I have started a little something. It won't be an actual fic, but just individual pieces of a collection of canon things. From the first film ONLY.

So if there's anything my readers would like to see involving Taesme and E1 stuff, please just let me know :)

@tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @watermeezer @munstysmind

@themaradwrites @mrsmungus @alisbackalleybbq @asirensrage @residentdormouse

@kmc1989 @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar

“You have a really nice smile, you know that?”

Giving a small, embarrassed laugh, he takes a large swallow of beer.

“What? You’ve never heard that before? No one has ever told you?”

“Once. A very long time ago.”

“I find that hard to believe.  What’s the deal with that? People just too blind to notice? Or do you just not do it much? Smile.”

“Someone needs a reason to, yeah? I haven’t had one of those in quite a while.”

“You’re doing it now.  What’s the explanation for it?  The whisky or the tequila?”

“I’m thinking  it has less to do with the booze and more to do with the company.”

She feels the heat that rises in her cheeks and spreads to her ears. A mixture of embarrassment and the handful of shots and glasses of beer that have already been consumed.

“Did you just bust out your game on me, Tyler Rake? Because THAT was smooth.”

“Game? What game? I don’t have any game. That’s just me telling it like it is. What’s the saying?”  Reaching for one of the remaining full shot glasses, he sets it in front of her. Then helps himself to the final one.  “Drunk minds speak sober thoughts? Or some shit like that.”

“Well, it certainly makes you chatty, that’s for sure.”   She picks up her shot and leans across the table; tapping the tiny glass against his before downing the liquor.  Wincing and then rapidly patting her chest -in vain- to relieve it of the painful burn the tequila leaves behind.  “I don’t mind, though...” She puts the empty glass upside down on the table.   “I like it.”

“What?”

“This side of you.”

“Yeah?” He nods his thanks at the waiter who arrives to retrieve the tray of empty shot glasses and deposit a platter of various appetizers in the middle of the table. Ordering another round and a fresh pitcher of beer. he waits until the man departs before addressing Esme once more. “What side is that?”

“The non-mercenary side.  It’s…nice.”

“Nice, huh?” He chuckles. "Something tells me you won't find it that nice once you get to know me better.”

[rddyatbat]

Mutuals, oofuri fans, and friends alike how would we all feel about an au where Mihashi retires from baseball because of Tommy John Surgery complications and takes up art instead and watches Abe continue on in his baseball career eventually becoming a coach for a group of lowsy but impressionable first years.

All the while Mihashi draws Abe and the places they go together. Mihashi aches to be on the field again, to feel his cleats digging into the well raked dirt of a mound, and to be able to be the only one Abe sees again. Even if just for a second he wants to be the only one Abe focuses on, he wants Abe to look at him and yearn for him the way his sketches of said man reflect his own yearning.

It's a terrible slow burn (because oofuri is nothing if not just one two decade long slow burn) and Mihashi thinks Abe will never want him the same way he wants the catcher turned coach, but Abe has only ever been looking at Mihashi.

He sees Mihashi everywhere, in nervous tics he picked up from the blond during the time he spent with the retired pitcher, he helicopters the kids on the team because he can't do it with Mihashi anymore and finds himself making extra riceballs when he packs his own lunches before work (he doesn't realize it until him and the first years are eating during practice but he hands them out to the kids who want them or whoever wins at rock paper scissors or an at bat challenge lol hes a bastard).

There's a film over his eyes that makes him only see Mihashi no matter how much he tries to blink or rub it away.

[qualitystart]

so you have any crash course information on them so I'm not totally lost please? if not it's ok!

okay so. the starting point, if you have the time, is the utterly phenomenal Dorktown History of the Seattle Mariners. that'll take you through 2020. the extremely excellent mariners blog Lookout Landing also has some great history posts.

but you don't just want history, I assume - you want to know about the Mariners now. I'll try to cover as many of them as I can below the cut.

there's Julio, who took the world by storm as a rookie last year. here's a great piece on him from last fall - spoiler alert, they did end the drought. he also vlogs!

J.P. - heart and soul, o captain my captain. here's a great LL piece on him.

and his parter in crime, Ty, golden retriever in human form. you gotta see their dynamic in action: In-N-Out Burger trip, Starbucks adventure

Geno (of Casey's url fame) - "good vibes only," making Gold Glove plays every day, and an important leader

Jarred - in the words of @eugeniosuarez, "gifted child syndrome and a mood disorder but he loves his friends." currently on the IL because he kicked a water cooler after a frustrating strikeout. (he was gutted, and crying in his media availability. he cares about this team so fucking much.) his face when he's happy lights up the world.

Cal (a.k.a Big Dumper) - our incredible, talented, big-assed young catcher who rakes and works SO hard every day

Logan - very good pitcher, shaped like an inflatable tube man, undrafted out of high school and made himself a first-rounder anyway

Logan and Cal came up together and are rich with narratives, which I have detailed here.

Cabby - will annoy the SHIT out of the other team. uses the pitch clock to his advantage like no one else. in the words of the poet:

our other catcher is Murph - got a bit of the crazy eyes, we love him, he even can cartwheel!

the bullpen! here's a great LL piece - Gott has since been traded to the Mets, but he lives on in our hearts and Sauce pours one out for him before every game

and our de facto closers:

Matt Brash, who's got some nasty stuff, and Andrés Muñoz, who is very baby and throws gas

(previously we had Paul Sewald, who was traded at the deadline - good baseball move, but tough to see him go)

I am gettin sleepy and I haven't even covered most of the rotation - 2023 All Stars George Kirby and Luis Castillo, rookies Bryce Miller and Bryan Woo, plus we've got Robbie Ray and Marco on the IL (both out for the year) - so I may come back to edit this later, I'll rb it if I do.

feel free to hit me up with more questions any time, and I'm sure @eugeniosuarez and @jockcoded would be happy to answer some too - we all love telling people about the Mariners

[guentzel]

who are your fave 5 baseball players and why?👀

sara you askin g me this while im going through emotional turmoil is CRUEL (jk)

yadier molina - literally THE goat, the greatest catcher of all time (i will FIGHT). watching him as a catcher was one of the most incredible things of my life. he is quite literally the master of the field, constantly aware, has a fucking FANTASTIC arm (YOU DONT RUN ON YADI) and just all around a good man!!! does a lot of charity work and also just, seems to help everyone he gets a chance too. his relationship w waino is insane and i love it, theyre truly brothers. yadi was the glue that kept this team together and now hes GONE

adam wainwright - fantastic pitcher!!! but also just so fucking funny i love him, he always worked hard and despite all his setbacks kept coming back. he, like yadi, does a lot of charity work and helps both his community in georgia and in the st louis area. hes also a fucking country singer now?? and hes GOOD??? uncle charlie had a fantastic and devastating curveball. i love how much he loves yadi and vice versa. ugh. i adore it.

zack greinke - A FREAK!!! hes such a good pitcher but hes also a freak (affectionate) and just weird and just doesnt care about it. hes gone through so much mental health wise and just kept coming back and the fact that he could rake?? as a pitcher?? WHILE ALSO BEING A FANTASTIC PITCHER??? like what the fuck man. the fact hes a catdad is something i adore too. his personality is just... *chefs kiss* i always think about the time he took a ball from someone who asked him to sign it and just. chucked it into center field. and when asked why he did it he just said "for my amusement."

brandon crawford (wails) - fantastic short stop?? beautiful hair?? beautiful person??? seems like he's extremely chill and fun and hardworking. seems like a fantastic dad to his kids. (again) does a lot of charity work and i. just adore. a man who is so competent at baseball but also just a genuinely nice person.

tim lincecum - THE OG FREAK! i never got to watch him live but watching past clips??? ohhhh when i get my hands on you bruce bochy. why did you let him pitch so much. his hips EXPLODED because of you and he couldve been so good!!! HE COULDVE HAD SUCH A LONG CAREER!!!! the way he pitched the way he moved the long hair??? the two no hitters??? hes just. UGH. hes EVERYTHING. the fact that he smoked weed and got caught for it and was just like. whatever. the way hes just. quietly living his life. i adore him and i miss him and i just. i want to see him pitch ONCE

[optimistredsox]

30 April, SFG @ BOS, 0-4, win

It shouldn't be that winning the last game of one series and the first game of the next at home seems somewhat miraculous and wonderful and yet here I am thinking the Red Sox win against the Giants last night was somewhat miraculous. And wonderful. It wasn't a statement win or an overcoming of odds (other than the, you know, difficult inflexible situation the ownership has dropped on the team since 2019). It was just winning a good ballgame against a good club without all the people we thought we'd be playing with. Which is definitely becoming a thing this year. Which I am here for. Was everything great? Nah, I'm sorry, 11 strikeouts is still not great... but too much was there to balance it out to get too hung up on it. So bright sides, right?

Cooper Criswell, who will at some point this season contribute to the inevitable starting rotation week of complete alliteration, hopefully, pitched another wee gem. He went five, struck out four, walked one, gave up a couple of hits and left the rest of baseball wondering how we made a dude with a career 5.65 ERA a 1.65 ERA starter through however many innings he's pitched so far this year. And the answer comes in multitudes... but the main thing, and I am serious here, it is quite obvious that old teammate buddies Craig Breslow and Andrew Bailey (Red Sox GM and current pitching coach respectively...), as former pitchers for World Series winning Red Sox teams (well... just the one, the delightful 2013 team) somehow distilled, bottled, and saved their success for just this weird season where everything is odd. Or they made a deal with Beelzebub. Or some lesser demon. Anyway. It's great. The Red Sox lead all of baseball with shutouts. And now that we've chilled out a bit on the errors (we made one last night...), those devilish deals are beginning to look pretty good.

The bullpen were also good. Weissert struck out three in four outs. Zack Kelly struck out two in three outs. And Slaten allowed two hits but no runs. Bernadino also pitched but he hit Yaz's grandson (who we should've signed) so I'm a little annoyed with him.

We took six walks! That's good!

Wilyer Abreu continues to rake, make shit happen, do stuff, whatever you want to call it... he went 3-for-4 with a run scored and a run batted in and a walk taken and yeah he struck out but it's fine with all that other shit. Oh. And one of his hits was a triple. The one that drove in a run. His first ever major league triple. Fuckin' love a triple.

Rob Refsnyder continues to be like, "how are you not noticing how good I've been since I got back" with 2 hits and 2 RBIs and just being, like, reliably good.

Reese McGuire took two walks. One of those scored a run. Take Walks People!

Raffy only had the one hit but he also took two walks. Good job, Raffy.

Jarren Duran, who's struggled a bit on and off in the leadoff spot, never knowing quite when to jump on the sandworm, had a good night, taking a walk, going 3-for-4, knocking in a run, scoring a run. You know, playing baseball.

Enmanuel Valdez only had the one hit but he made a great play. With some new, more seasoned, infielders arriving I am still pulling for some of the dudes who've helped us along the way to at least make it back to Worcester rather than get DFA'd (Pablo Reyes, got DFA'd, and it was probably right and everything, but it coming just after he pitched that top of the ninth against the Cubs made me sad). Anyway. I like our players. I wish them the best.

We won!

We got another shutout and our team ERA is like, 2.00. Pedro would be happy with that ERA. Ish. He was kind of a perfectionist.

Let's win again tonight.

*note - this post originally claimed the game was on the 29th of April, which was an off day. I have now corrected the date. I am an idiot*

[lunarxdaydream]

Curtains billow as the cool brush of current entered through bay windows. Fresh sea air welcomed against senses that soaked in the sweet summer sun to her heart’s content. From her perch, the silhouette of the fae empress falls into her sights. Pin falls into place just as cushions cradle her frame, the desired privacy obtained without a word.

Not that she expected anyone foolish enough to stick around unwanted.

“Quite the busy woman.”, she mused with a glass rising from the tray. Golden bracelets dance upon her turning wrist; aerated wine lifted to tilt the pitcher and filling the crystal before it found its way into her grasp. “Mmm … I take it this is from the last harvest?”

Dry notes of sherry and blackberry tingle the tongue. Spice, maybe clove of something of the like. A blend, she admits, to fall within her delights.

“Is it safe to assume you are the reason behind her absence?” Violetta rounded the corner to fetch a glass for herself; raven locks held in a single braid that took purchase on a bare shoulder. Threads of gold carefully tucked in, a glimmer rising whenever the empress moved beneath the light.

“Perhaps.”, is the celestial’s reply. Her timbre coy as a cascading lock of pink is thrown over her shoulder. Earrings dangle in the movement; diamond dust shimmering against her cheek bones as her upper half leaned on the settee’s armrest. “Talk about an interesting little party.” Sheer fabric enwrapped around her torso slipped up her shoulder in serpent-like motion. Bright blue irises practically aglow with unspoken curiosity and excitement. Even the sapphire eye of the taut band on her upper arm seemed to shine in response to its owner’s demeanor.

“Yes,” Violetta leaned back against the edge of her desk. Her nails lightly drum on the edge, watching the other with a small smirk. “ ‘Interesting’ is another way of putting it.” At least it offered insight so as to the extent of Seelie’s response to a chaotic burst. Or rather should she say the King if his previous slip of anger is to go by.

“I must admit, the ramifications were not entirely expected.”

“Who knows, it may be for the best. Sooner or later we were going to have to press on.” Fingers rake through her hair as the wine swirled in its glass. “Why not take the opportunity and leave the blame on Seelie’s door if she were to slip from control?”

“And here they accuse me of a devious mind.”

Laughter fell in soft waves, a feigned innocence spreading across the celestial’s flawless features. The shift is sooner than expected but who is she to deny it? Better yet …

“I am simply providing the entertainment, dear Violetta. After all, if you are intent on fulfilling your desire then the right pieces are needed.”

“For a price.” 

“For a price.”

[theultimatefan]

Cicadas, Expansion Talk and Holidays in June: Ten Things to Know in the American Assoc. This Week

The American Association of Professional Baseball (@AA_Baseball) season continues with a full slate of series this weekend, all available for free live viewing at aabaseball.tv.

Here are 10 Things to Know about the AAPB this week:

The colorful cicadas may be an annoyance to some, but the Kane County Cougars aren't one to brood. Instead, with the 13-year and 17-year cycles converging (we're not entomologists, but we play them on AABaseball.tv), tonight is Kane County Cicadas Night at Northwestern Medicine Field vs. the Kansas City Monarchs. The team will wear special Cicada-themed jerseys which will be auctioned off for charity, and the first thousand fans receive a custom insect swatter.

Juneteenth, Father's Day, Flag Day, Pride Month and National Cucumber Day (ok, that one might be a stretch) are all celebrated across the country in June. But two AAPB teams have a couple of other ideas... Halloween (Chicago Dogs, Saturday) and Halfway to Christmas (Fargo-Moorhead RedHawks, Tuesday) will bring those popular holidays back a few months early.

On Tuesday, the AAPB announced another in a series of key corporate partnerships, this one with MOBILEMONEY, now the official cashless payment solutions provider to the league and its member clubs.

Sometimes a change of position can make all the difference. The Kansas City Star and Yahoo! Sports have the story of Monarchs outfielder-turned-pitcher Nate Tellier, a .342 hitter in college whose coach suspected – rightfully so – that the mound might be a better route for the righthander in the pros. So far, so good, as he’s posted a 2.11 ERA over 17 innings at press time.

Big things are happening around the AAPB, and the time might just be right to grow the footprint, which now currently extends to 12 team across 10 states. Commissioner Joshua Schaub recently discussed the prospects for expansion at Fargo’s Valley News Live, potentially doubling the number of franchises by 2028-29..

Another 10Things, Another Homecoming as Winnipeg native Ben Onyshko signed with the hometown Goldeyes last week. The 27-year-old lefty was originally selected by the Seattle Mariners out of Steston (Fla.) Univ, reaching AAA Tacoma. He started his Goldeyes career with two innings of hitless relief on Friday to help preserve a win over Sioux City.

The Gary SouthShore RailCats along with other businesses sponsored a luncheon for local businesses and leaders for clean air initiatives for Northern Indiana last week. The luncheon awarded three college scholarships to local students in the areas and recognized four businesses making voluntary efforts to improve clean air quality in 2023.

In a few alumni moves:

Kane County outfielder Je'Von Ward had his contract purchased by Toronto and homered in his first game with Single-A Vancouver on Saturday.

Now former Kansas City Monarch Blake Rutherford is heading to Mexico to play for Toros de Tijuana in the Mexican Baseball League. Rutherford, a former MLB player, originally drafted in the first round to the New York Yankees in 2016, but finally made his big league debut in 2023 with the Washington Nationals. This season with the Monarchs, he posted a .328 batting average, .911 OPS, and launched three home runs.

After hitting .331 in the Low-A Florida State League, infielder Payton Eeles (Chicago '23) was promoted to Cedar Rapids, the Twins' High-A affiliate.

The Record Watch department has its eyes on Fargo's Izzy Alcantara, who has 30 stolen bases through his team's first 33 games. The AAPB record is 71, set by the Milwaukee Milkmen’s Bryan Torres last season. Torres continues to rake with the Cardinals’ AA affiliate in Springfield, hitting in eight straight games last week to boost his average to .329 with 16 stolen bases at press time.

[themonkeycabal]

It occurred to me that with the DH, we would never have seen Bartolo Colon do That. First homer at age 42. Cheers in an opposing park. A gif that still makes me cackle with joy. Standard disclaimer: Mets

Oh! *Gasp* See what the DH would steal from us all? It’s a horrible, horrible thing to contemplate. Why does MLB hate the Mets, I ask you? You should take the dh as a personal attack, yes. 

[retiredthotporcello]

pitchers who r a k e

bonus: swag