#been wanting to draw this out for a very long time

[jodjuya]

Also, facial hairs don't grow in all at once like a chia pet. Usually* takes like 15 years after puberty until someone can grow a FULL beard. So if you're drawing somebody in their teens or twenties, their beard will be patchy.

(* the order of progression is basically the same across humanity (I'm pretty sure, anyway), but different ethnicities go through the steps at different speeds. Middle-Eastern & Subcontinental folks will have full beards MUCH faster than Asian folks, for instance. (like, 20-25 years faster!))

1) Chin and moustache come in first.

- Moustache growth begins at the corners of your mouth and progresses inward toward your philtrum, but it won't actually cover your philtrum until much later.

- Chin growth begins at the very bottom of your chin in the centre, then spreads out to the sides without going past the front of your chin (i.e. not wider than your mouth), then goes up in a triangular shape toward the soul patch (but it won't grow into a soul patch right away - those hairs are VERY slow to grow), then the sides go out a bit more and then they start going up too. The progression of shapes is like an underscore shifting into a squashed acorn into an anchor and then eventually into kind of like the rebel alliance logo, and then the rest of the infill happens later, if at all (The rebel alliance shape is all UNDER your mouth. Those two side prongs will eventually reach all the way up around your mouth to connect to your moustache, but not until MUCH later)

2) While that's going on, the next zone to come in is your jawline:

- begins at corner of your jaw, then progresses down your jawline towards your chin but it WILL NOT connect to the chin's hair growth at this stage.

- when it's like halfway down your jaw it'll also begin going up to your sideburns

3) From your jawline it spreads under your jaw in to your neck (your moustache would cover your philtrum at this point, and your goatee would be at the beginnings of the rebel alliance shape)

4) then slowly begins progressing up your cheeks, following the growth pattern of your jawline hairs. But it will just be a thickening swoosh shape and not going very far up your cheeks yet. There are still NO hairs in the NO HAIR ZONE between your jawline and your goatee.

5) the goatee's rebel alliance shape has filled in and connected to your moustache, hair *starts* growing higher up your cheeks, and the NO HAIR ZONE *starts* shrinking

6) yadda yadda yadda: Full Beard!

7) you can do whatever grooming you want at any stage during this process, but you can only shave off hair from places where it's grown in the first place, and hair that has been growing for less time can't be longer than hair that's been growing for more time. So usually you'll be trimming back the earliest growth areas while you wait for the rest to catch up. ('cause if you don't it looks Fucking Terrible)

ALSO! This is the hormonal progression, not the hair-itself progression. If you're past a certain growth stage and clean-shaven, when you stop shaving your hair will start growing from everywhere on your face where facial hair has been unlocked. So once you're older than, like, 30, then you will start growing facial hair from everywhere at once like a chia pet - "5 o' clock shadow" and all that. This patchiness I've described is for *young* people (except for when it isn't because ethnicity)

(But even when you're mature, different areas of your face still have different hair-growth speeds, so it's not COMPLETELY uniform (but it's pretty close))

All of this means that if you have two people of the same ethnicity and with beards the same length, but one dude is 15 years older than the other, the older guy's beard will (usually) be thicker and more voluminous. With a long beard, the younger you are the stringier it'll be. It takes time for the slow-growth hairs to catch up to the fast ones. (But if it's LONG long, then it will tend towards being kinda thin and stringy anyway due to the attrition of shed hairs)

And if someone has a truly unkempt beard, it will be thick close to their face and will thin right out the further away from their face it gets. You'll see these in distinct bands, like a tree regrowing from being pollarded. The thickness stops shortly after their last trim, and there'll be the thin wispy band of faster-growing hairs which have overtaken the slower hairs that are bulking out the rest of the beard.

Also, the shape of a long beard will undergo plastic deformation under prolonged pressure. Sleeping on it, wearing a face mask; things of that nature. Your beard can become very misshapen until you actively restore its former lovely shape with vigorous combing and/or water:

first you comb it up and out (but mostly up) to get the maximum volume possible, and from there you gently comb it back down again into neatness. If it's undergone deformation, you can't go directly from Squarshed to Tidy, you have to 'reset' via Floof first. Or you just take a shower. (You don't have to shampoo a beard unless it's actually dirty, but you can if you want to. (but if you strip too much oil from the hair and don't put it back afterwards with conditioner or beard oil or w/ever, then your hair pulls oil from your skin and you can end up with Beard Dandruff 🙃)).

BUT if your beard just regular messy and hasn't undergone plastic deformation, like you've been hit by a strong gust of wind or whatever, then you can go quickly and directly from Mussed to Tidy. No Reset-Via-Floof required.

You can get knots in your beard, but it's highly unlikely unless your beard is LONG long. Slightly less uncommon are individual hairs getting a knot in them. As in, one individual hair will have been tied into an overhand knot, usually close to its end. You only notice these when stroking your beard and your finger happens to brush past that tiny bump in the hair; it doesn't cause any problems or anything because it's literally only affecting one single hair, not causing multiple hairs to be all stuck together. I just pull on the knot with my fingernails and the hair snaps off where the knot is.

If you braid a beard you lose most of its volume and a good bit of length. Though I guess this depends on how tight your braids are and how many of them you have... 🤔

You can disguise a really long beard as a short one by tying it up with a Gibson Tuck/inverted bun.

I think that's all the nuanced beard information I can think of right now. Happy to take questions. :)

ive been wanting to make smth like this for a little while now and i finally finished it up ^_^ hopefully my tricks are helpful

[cookieclover]

Mute B-127 AU: The Aftermath part 2 (TW: blood, self harm)

Good heavens I AM BACK!!! I'm so excited to finally share this comic with you, I've been planning it for such a long time and I'm finally done! I hope I won't get burned out again, because very cool things are coming <3

I've decided to give myself more time for drawing, so the next part is coming out in 10 days - 19th February! Please be patient, I'm just one broke artist lol

First >> Prev >> Next (19th February)

Please don't repost my art on other platforms.

Some more notes:

I don't have that much experience with a panic attack. I based it off what I know, and how it'd depicted in other media, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. I know touching someone having a panic attack is not always a good idea, I just really wanted to give Bee a hug vv

Ratchet is a canon character that exists in a few other transformers media. As far as I know, he wasn't present in the Transformers One movie, but I really wanted to include him in my comic (I consider him Another Dad of Bee). I took the design from the IDW Lost Light comic series, as it's the design I like the most!

Another thing, in case you're wondering - why didn't Bee flinch away from Ratchet when he touched him, but he did with OP? Optimus reached to him very suddenly, when Bee was still figuring out what just happened. Bee also didn't quite recognise him - as he looked different from Orion Pax he knew. I like to think Bee had a few meetings with Ratchet before, and that's why it was now a figure he trusted and recognised. Ratchet was also way more gentle, OP basically grabbed Bee's hand away from his chest, being excited to see him - and despite Ratchet's previous warnings.

[seneon]

OF ART & SWORD ──── samurai¡ touya × geisha¡ reader.

about. oh but to love a woman who is already married to art. set in edo period, rural japan! au. romance. mentions of alcohol and suggestive content ( very short & uncompleted sex scene, it's intimately beautiful ) wc of 4300+

notes. the long awaited fic that's been sitting in here for months LOL. these rural jp themes & titles are based on research. anyways, no grunge dabi content this week.

SUNDAY NIGHTS were the only night that all the well respected samurai of the shogun had all for themselves. the gruesome days of protecting, engaging in battle, and training during the day were seemingly like a preview of what hell is like.

during this one night where they are granted freedom to sprawl all around the kingdom, many of the samurai's loyal warriors are seen in brothels. they engage in nothing but sugar-coated conversations with the women there and the next thing their bodies entwine.

tonight, the elite men all decided to spend their nights watching performances led by the women from the best okiya in the entire city. tonight is the night of artistry.

it is hard to tell if the samurai were here for art or not, since they all knew that a specific tayū of eternal beauty resides in this okiya. a woman who married the concept of art and ingrained it all throughout her soul.

the highest ranking of geisha which stands on par with those beautiful oiran of pleasure, you, a tayū. a woman of art and a woman who never fails to shine a sort of hopeful light around her customers.

the calmest of turquoise eyes watched as the said tayū danced above the little stage.

your arm ever so elegantly tracing the strings in the air as your fingers dipped in the invisible waters. occasionally, you would turn around, your feet carrying you so lightly it looked as if you were dancing in heaven's clouds.

it sucked the samurai’s soul in a captivating trance as you danced to the shamisen’s tunes that your maiko played. your movements were so fluid that it reminded the samurai with pure snowy hair of the calmest waters of a lake.

he couldn't take his eyes off you, even when the performances were finished and all the geisha in the okiya surrounded themselves among the samurai men, mingling around for a little fellowship.

he swore he was the chosen one the moment you choose to offer him your attention, sitting at the empty spot beside him.

“good evening, sir. is it alright if i serve you tea?”

hell. your voice sounded like those heavenly angels who sang melodic songs. your words so smooth it simply rolled off your tongue. it is enough to make the samurai's heart race with your voice.

and gosh. has he ever seen such beautiful eyes before? those eyes that draw him close so that he can drown in an unending pool of your gaze. they were so kind that it taints his heart with the purest of colours.

he simply nods, never a verbal man. either way, he couldn't force a single word out of his throat with the way that his insides are all over the place.

you simply smiled and poured him tea, as you said you would. you only poured tea for him, never one for yourself. that made him want to push a few words out, a little distracted from his feelings.

“pour for yourself,” the samurai murmured, avoiding your gaze as you said a simple all right before pouring an empty little cup of tea for yourself.

“i’ve never seen you here before.”

“that's because i never came here before,” he replied almost immediately to your words as he took a sip of his tea. “those men have been here several times though.”

you glanced over him before focusing your gaze back on him. “yes, i know them. but i don't know you. what is your name?”

his turquoise eyes flickered to your face as you asked him for his name. it seems like common courtesy for a pretty geisha to ask for her customer's name so that she will appreciate and remember the faces of those who pay attention to the artistry of the geisha.

“it's todoroki tōya.”

tōya's name rolls down your tongue like a prayer.

ONE MONTH of knowing you and that is all it took for the elite samurai todoroki tōya to start sponsoring you. he is the only man capable of such riches and wealth and the only one whose patronage was accepted by you.

tōya's comrades were surprised. they did not see it coming— how he is such an aloof soldier yet was noticed by the most beautiful woman of the geisha world.

now, the samurai with hair as white as the winter snow sat on the tatami mat, watching as you executed solo performances for him and him alone, a way to show gratitude to your danna.

he watched as the fan in your hand flew in the air, your fingers skillfully performing tricks with such a nimble little thing. even with a tool used in your dancing, he was impressed by your skills.

“how'd you do that? the fan thing,” tōya asks as you continue to swing your arm elegantly in the air, following the nonexistent music which only plays in your ear and yours alone.

“i simply throw it in the air and hope to catch it the right way,” you replied, giving him a slower demonstration of the skill as you saw tōya tilted his head in confusion. you chuckled before your movements came to halt.

“there is no way you just hope to catch it the right way. there has to be a skill. just like samurai with their blades and kenjutsu.”

you sauntered over to the man before setting your fan aside and taking a seat opposite of him.

“but there is. when you have a skill, you hope to make the best out of it. you believe in the skill which you've perfected. that is hope. when i perform, i hope for the best. when i hope and believe in that light, then i can perform perfectly while holding onto that simple little light that lives within me.”

gosh, even your words sound like sweet honey that drowns itself into the back of his mind. the way you perceive a word as simple as hope has him listening intently, even if he isn't really into that kind of overwhelming genre.

by now, you already know he isn't a man of many words but just a few. you do almost all the talking, filling the air with your heavenly voice that tōya loves to listen to every time he murders his free time basking in your calming presence.

being with you simply makes him forget about all the samurai work that he has. in your presence, he forgets how to wield a blade, how to lead an army, how to fight for this country because all he could think of was how to hold your hands, how to lead you into his embrace, and how to fight for you.

it's pathetic to him how he forgets that he is a samurai, yet an elite one, whenever he's with you. and sometimes, he forgets what he wants to say and ends up uttering the utmost outrageous thoughts of his.

“you are my hope, y/n.”

THE MOON GLEAMED, like a massive white bone china plate, hanging high up on night heavens. its silver glows illuminated on the skin of a figure slowly and elegantly moving her arms in the air, forming a magical aura all around her. your hair danced along the cold winds accompanied by the soft waves of the lake.

you slowly moved, following the tunes that the earthly nature offered up to you as a gift for entertaining them with your dancing. to dance freely and to have no other soul tear your confidence away is such longing peace that you have been looking for this whole time.

when have you ever danced like this all alone without having to worry about anything at all? without the eyes of men burning their gazes into your soul.

you felt so free, telling your okasan that you wanted to take a nightly walk through town but here you are, all alone by a lake where the moon favours your absolute beauty.

there were extremely faint sways of the roots that danced in joy at the performance you are giving them, serving mother nature with your grace.

now it is tōya's turn to lay his eyes on your dancing figure. you slowly spun around, arms moving in the most graceful and beautiful manner he has ever seen. he doesn't know what to think or feel at that moment where he hides behind a tree to watch you twirl like a soft and light leaf which is being carried by the wind.

the samurai watched in absolute awe, unknowingly admiring such beauty that unfolds right before him from a distance.

turquoise eyes usually resting and pupils never forming into a lovely circle of whatsoever, they widened just a little bit, giving the samurai some emotions that perfectly portrayed his features. his lips parted a little, letting the cold mountain air kiss his lips dry.

if there was a way to keep his lips moist, it would be to have his lips on yours.

wait—

what was the samurai's most elite samurai, todoroki tōya, thinking..? to have his lips on yours? to keep his lips moist? to kiss you...?

tōya blushed. his cheeks grew a field of red roses, freshly bloomed and ready to decorate the rest of his face deep red. he covered his cheeks so quickly that the sound of a slap echoed through the night.

shit.

the sound has caught your attention. you have ceased dancing, now looking at the direction the odd sound came from. tōya completely hid himself behind the tree, hands still covering his mouth. a smile crept up your cheeks when you saw the beautiful white hair that immediately strikes out from the greeneries.

there was an incredible silence for a long moment, before a shuffle was heard.

"let's dance," you whispered into his ears, fingers gently wrapping themselves onto the hands of the flustered samurai as you pulled him along with you to lead him around the lake where you danced for nature.

tōya simply let you do as you wished, not uttering a word of disagreement to your offer or even shaking his hands free from your grasp. you have him cornered and wrapped under your pretty fingers. you made todoroki tōya all flustered and shy.

what could be a greater achievement than that?

when you took tōya's calloused hands and went for a run under the moonlight, he couldn't help but feel secure with a strong sense of comfort. love and affection began to brew inside of him from the moment your smile influenced him to curve the corners of his lips upwards too.

EIGHT DAYS AND STILL COUNTING, yet you've never felt much more empty and lonely with the lack of tōya's presence.

he has gone away to fight with the rest of the king's army of samurai, soldiers, and warriors. all courageous men who have pledged their utmost loyalty to the king and the kingdom.

eight days is excruciating for you, even if you tell yourself otherwise. tōya has been visiting you a lot more often than ever, and suddenly he gets drafted to lead an army after his long hiatus.

and pray tell, there was never a night where you wouldn't gaze out at the moon from your room just to wonder if he's also gazing at the same moon you set your sights upon.

you wish that the moon would convey a message to him through your eyes and thoughts that the moon hears. anything would be fine. would be better if you received some sort of message through the stars about the young samurai.

another eight lonely days and nights of engaging and socialising with the townspeople passed in long dreadful hours. in total, it has been sixteen days. mere two weeks and two days where you last heard the voice of the well respected samurai and ever since you saw his ocean eyes.

and here you were, eyes slightly widened at the sight of the said samurai you missed so much. tōya's eyes gazed into yours as you felt your breath being brought to an end at that moment.

like a sculpture, a smile slowly carved upwards of his cheeks, your own heart fluttering at the sight of your beloved danna. your widened eyes melted like ice-cream, softening at his little smile before you walked to him at the entrance of your okiya.

“welcome back, tōya-san.”

“hello to my favourite lady, y/n-san,” tōya did a little bow before chuckling to himself. he then handed out a small bouquet of peonies that was hiding behind him, awaiting to be presented to a lady.

“i never forgot about you,” said the samurai as he looked at the pretty pink peonies that made him smile. “in fact, i’ve always been thinking about you. on the battlefield, when i rested, even the moments where i cleaned my blade free from the stains of the dead.”

tōya's description has your face twisting into an indescribable facial expression, the silence you emit so deafening it makes his lips pursed in awkwardness at your odd reaction.

“sorry, i didn't mean to uh, say the last part.”

“no no, it's fine. surely you don't think of me when you see blood, do you?” you raised a brow.

his fingers moved up to scratch his cheeks. “of course not. what i meant to say is, i can't keep you out of my mind.”

and it makes you chuckle before you take the bouquet into your hands to sniff the peonies because you couldn't get him out of your mind too.

“i’m glad you're safe and sound. unharmed and untouched, tōya-san.”

you really thought he wasn't coming back.

THE CONSUMPTION OF ALCOHOL makes every other night spent differently with tōya. the finest sake ran down your throat like how it was when tōya poured you a small cup. the flavour of alcohol is so fruity and floral it messes with your mind almost immediately after consuming a few cups.

as tayū, your alcohol tolerance is so high that you could drink as many jugs as you wish. it definitely surpasses the level that your patron has.

for some odd reason, tonight the universe declares your alcohol tolerance to sink into merely nothing more than a low, innocent, maiko who awaits her turn for alcohol consumption.

neither of you knew what time it is. it's somewhere around 21:38. you think. the candles looked way too funny to read. by the time the candle runs out, your time with your danna should be over. but it seems that your candle still has a long way to go.

your mind wandered off somewhere to the dreamland where only the best possible outcomes happen in there and never in reality. all while tōya takes unending sips of the liquid that has already drugged his mind with ecstasy.

he fixed his vision onto you where you sat so elegantly and so poised, the cup in your hand as your hands rested on your lap. your eyes are half-lidded and lazy.

noticing your flushed cheeks— your pretty lips that were covered in a light layer of squeezed rose petals from the west. the sake left a trail of dripped liquid at the corner of your mouth and he so itches to clean it up for you.

so when his proximity with yours closes and he nears you, his nose so close to your face when he exhales you could feel it fanning your cheeks.

you glanced at him just a little bit, eyes locking onto his own and seeking for anything in them just to be pulled into an ocean that you start to drown in.

the tension is thick— one could probably cut it with a katana and it will not break. perhaps a lance could pierce through the broadness of the air. either way, the tension between you and the samurai is so heavy that it makes you forget how to think for a moment when tōya's lips gently touch your own.

he does it so slowly and carefully, pulling away to look at your pretty features, as if he's drinking every one of them sip by sip. then his fingers moved to graze your cheeks. slowly and carefully, he holds your face and cups it, not wanting to break you as if you are just like a fragile porcelain doll.

“you're so beautiful...” tōya whispers and your heart flutters. each day you hear the same thing over and over again by every soul you set your sights on. but when tōya says it, it becomes new and unspoken words to you.

truly, it makes your stomach flutter with how many butterflies that trashed around at his praise.

“c-can i kiss you again..?” asked the samurai and you nodded like a fool, pressing your lips onto his before he could.

you shouldn't be kissing your patron, your danna. hell, you shouldn't be kissing any customers at all. but you're here, drowning in the ecstasy of his lips and the way his hands feel on you.

the taste of alcohol on tōya's lips is so divine that it heats you up along with the kiss that grew more intense as the candlelight softly burned in the far background.

committing a crime against the rules and laws of the artistic world, you paid no mind to it. no rules or regulations exist to you in this moment where you back softly hits the wooden ground and tōya crawls above you to trail his lips down down your jawline and to your neck.

alcohol is forgotten, rules ceased to exist, and kisses marked your neck where kimono collars could cover them the next day.

tōya pays his mind in remembrance that you are still a geisha, still the daughter of art and servant of beauty. that much he wants to keep, although he isn't sure how much longer he could keep himself off you.

while he kisses your neck and marks them with bites that reeks of pure love, his fingers move to loosen the obi that holds your kimono in place.

once they've come undone, you could feel his hands peeled your garment off your shoulders as his kisses on your neck came to a halt.

your breathing is all hitched and messed up, letting the samurai undress you bare underneath him while his drunken turquoise eyes gazed at your body.

no words were uttered, just his lips that tells you how much he appreciates you whole. they drive down to your neck and shoulder, before going lower to your chest, stomach, and he pulls up to look at you before it could go any lower.

“why'd you stop…?” you whispered, your eyes looked up at him and your lips slightly curled in a pout, never wanting his sweet kisses to stop any sooner.

“as much as i want to do this, you could lose your career,” he answers and rests his hands on your cheek. “i don't want that to happen.”

“but tōya-san, i want you. i don't care about being a geisha if it means i could be with you. besides, you could just buy me.”

his cheeks grew a field of roses at your words as he remained silent for a moment. “then i’ll proceed with the transaction later. you're all right with that?”

you nodded. “more than all right,” your affirmative whisper has tōya pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth, giving it a few chaste kisses while his fingers hooked at the band of your undergarment before slowly pulling it down, his own breath growing shaky.

just a few more moments later and his tongue is buried deep inside you after the work of his coated fingers of your slick. his hands kept your thighs opened while you gripped on his precious white hair as he pleasures you with his tongue.

the candle still looks like it has hours to go, which is perfect and foreseen of this moment where you revel in ecstasy.

and when he pushes in and out of you while letting out praises and affirmations through his lips, you feel nothing but the deepening love for elite samurai tōya todoroki.

you don't want to continue being a geisha tayū anymore.

OKASAN SITS YOU DOWN. she's brushing your hair like any mother would. so sweetly and filled with so much affection in the brushing, her hands felt like mother's love to you.

she starts off the conversation with a simple update on the okiya and how business is going. it's progressing well, she tells you, and thanks you because of the successful business. then she mentions about your maiko and her coming of age.

your precious maiko which you've seen grown up into a beautiful young woman. she's now read to take the next step from apprenticeship to the real thing, to be formed into a geisha. and if heaven allows, your maiko would take your place as tayū. hereditary, it seems.

“you’ve given your innocence to the samurai?” okasan asked softly as you visibly tensed, causing the older woman to rest her hand on your shoulder. “do not fear, i am not angry.”

you nodded in response as you could hear the woman practically smiling through her gentle voice, hands lifting your shoulders to resume the brushing of hair.

“was he any good? i don't want my girls to give their purity to men who isn't of art.”

a firm blush painted your cheeks a bloody hue before you fidgeted with the hem of your kimono sleeves.

“he's… tōya-san’s really gentle. considerate too. he kept asking permission and fearing my career more than i did.”

the woman hummed in response. “that's really great. and what do you feel about it?”

“what do i feel about it ..? like, him being gentle and considerate?”

“yes. had he made it an honourable and unforgettable experience for you? did his kindness touched your heart?”

you thought for a moment. “to answer all your questions at once, yes. to be honest… i don't want to entertain anyone else other than him.”

“negative, y/n, negative. you do not just entertain people, especially the samurai. you share and show people your art. and you are art.”

okasan takes a ribbon to tie a low ponytail to your hair after brushing. once she tightens the knot, she takes a seat opposite of you and looks into your eyes.

“you mean a lot to the samurai. there's a look of love in his eyes whenever you are around. the same goes the other way with you. but remember, y/n. you are a tayū, highest of the geishas. you are tied to art, not to a man. and to be tied to a man, you must cut ties with art.”

so the next time tōya came to visit the okiya, you have already cut the ribbon that ties you and art together. however, when the samurai came, he's brought many things to the okiya with him. all gifts, for the women of the okiya, your okasan, your maiko. and of course, to you, the woman he kneeled on one knee to propose to.

THREE YEARS LATER and the geishas of the okiya where you once worked at are all gathered in the living room of the todoroki mansion.

your maiko— now a beautiful young tayū, carried your two-year old child around, swaying back and forth while singing the tunes she'd used to play on her shamisen for your performances.

okasan and the other geisha speaks to rei and fuyumi, the mother and elder sister of your beloved samurai, as you're in the kitchen with tōya, preparing food for the big company.

“tōya, no, put the onions in! not shallots!” your mouth filled with the unagi you just made, tasting it before your exclaims reaches your husbands ears.

“sorry! i can't tell the difference,” your husband grumbled in annoyance and held up an onion and shallot for you. “which is which, love?”

“onion’s that, shallot’s the other one,” you pointed as you told him, swallowing the unagi before beaming in satisfaction. “perfection.”

the samurai lets out a little scoff at you before turning back to the cutting board and knife, beginning the slicing of onion. “how can you tell the difference anyways?”

“my dear, i've been cooking all my life. it's easy once you get used to it,” you went to him and peeked over his shoulders, smiling at how skillfully he cuts the onions.

“is this you when you went to war three years ago and thought about me in the middle of the battlefield?”

tōya flushes red at that memory and cut the onions even faster, earning a “ah— slow down!” from you, before a chuckle emitted.

“not like i didn't think of you all the time back then,” he murmurs and slides all the onions into a bowl, handing them to you once he's done. “y/n, you've always plagued my mind like an artwork i could never forget.”

“i’m just very artistic, aren't i?” you pressed a soft and chaste kiss on his cheeks, a few cuts visible from his recent mission with the shogun.

“yeah yeah, so very artistic until i fell in love with a merely unforgettable art,” he leans down to kiss your lips instead.

“eww! get a room, nee-san!” your apprentice calls out before your child attempts to follow her in her coos.

“just showing love to my favourite lady,” tōya pulls away and pecks a kiss onto your forehead. “let’s continue cooking, yeah? i love you, my favourite lady of art.”

TAGGING ★ @seumyo @solvisun @syverse @lezviie @sanariafr @bbluefllame @onlyyemanii

© SENEON 2025 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[cheshireliam]

Kagari Amagase 1st Birthday Campaign: Story

His POV Story

"I Want The Princess"

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

I stood on the battlefield, washed off the blood and headed to my secondary residence.  

…

The instant I stepped inside, I collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. 

Like always, I felt lightheaded and couldn’t think straight.

However, the book laying on my desk caught my eye.

The cover of the book was decorated with a rose motif, a flower rare in Kogyoku. 

I crawled closer to the book and reached for it.

When I opened the cover, a piece of paper with text written in the Princess’ penmanship fell out and landed on my face.  

Those were various detailed annotations about the book’s contents. 

A pure desire to enjoy the book came right to me.

(My birthday…)

(It was my first time.)

…

Nobleman: Happy birthday, Prince Kagari. I wish you a joyful and prosperous year ahead.

Kagari: Oh. 

This year too, there was a snaking line of people outside the castle for my birthday. 

I received countless birthday greetings, but I didn't know the appropriate response to them. 

(Everything is different from when I was still part of the royal family. There are so many things I don’t understand.)

Back in the day, my birthdays were simple, ending with a congratulatory speech from the King. 

My older brother had countless people celebrating his birthday and even had a banquet held for him, but that wasn't the case for me — his younger brother. 

No one ever doubted it because the difference between me and my older brother, who possessed remarkable capabilities that made everyone around have high expectations for him, was like night and day.

(But… thinking about it now, I wish I’d at least gotten one dorayaki.)

(... Hm?)

At the very end of the line — a familiar figure was standing under a cherry blossom tree in the distance. 

My body moved on its own before I even realised it. 

Kagari: You’re wide open, Princess. 

The Princess reacted exaggeratingly in surprise. I put a hand over her mouth and dragged her into the shade.

Emma: Mmph…! 

I pinned her struggling body against a tree trunk before closing the distance between us to avoid drawing the attention of the people nearby.

(She’s still as weak as ever, like she could die any moment.) 

Kagari: Do you promise to behave?

I took my hand off her mouth and she nodded.

Emma: … What are you doing here, Prince Kagari?

Kagari: I saw you.

Emma: So you came to see me?

Kagari: You called me here.

(Maybe.)

Her fidgeting near the line must mean she wants to see me, right? 

Kagari: If you were planning to join the line, don’t bother.

Kagari: It won’t end until nightfall.

Emma: That long…?

Kagari: There’s a banquet tonight. That’ll go on till dawn. 

Kagari: So, why are you here?

The Princess’ eyes darted around awkwardly.

It was suspicious behaviour, she looked very uneasy, as though she was hiding something she wanted to say.

Emma: … Um… there were so many people gathered, and I got curious…

She hid the bag she was holding behind her back.

Given today’s occasion and the Princess’ personality, the answer is obvious.

(She’s hesitant to celebrate my birthday.) 

(Is this really something to agonise about?)

(... I don’t really get it, but this is fine.)

(It doesn't matter whether I receive birthday greetings or not…)

(But spending my birthday with her might actually be more enjoyable.)

(I’ll take her along for the customary inspection.)

…

Dressed as one of the Yasha’s subordinates, the Princess pointed an imitation sword at the assassins. 

I couldn’t help but be secretly impressed as I watched from atop a roof.

(She’s gotten more used to things compared to when she first arrived in Kogyoku.)

(Even though it’s only an imitation sword, she’s learnt how to point one at others.) 

(With that amount of guts, she’ll have no problem surviving in Kogyoku. Full marks for her.) 

(Also… the clothes my subordinates wear really suit her.)

I stared absentmindedly at her exposed nape, where her hair was tied up in a single knot.)

(I remember Matias saying something about this before.)

(“The nape, usually hidden by her hair, is the most valuable”.)

At that time, I thought he was purely spouting weird nonsense, but I understand now. 

(It’s so slender, I feel like biting it— wait, what? Why do I want to bite it?

(No idea. I’ll ask Matias next time.)

(If this is something that requires some brains, I’ll ask Azel.) 

While I was lost in thought, the assassin placed their hands on the hilt of their swords. 

Before they could unsheath their swords ever so slightly, I jumped down and swung my sheathed sword. 

The impact was solid, and all the assassins’ eyes rolled back as they fell unconscious. 

Had I drawn my sword, their heads would have flown off their shoulders. 

(Weak.)

Kagari: That was easy. I hoped they’d at least be good enough for me to draw my sword.

As I turned around feeling disappointed, the Princess was in the midst of sheathing the imitation sword.

Before the blade fully went into the scabbard, I moved closer and held her slender hand. 

Kagari: Princess, you need to adjust the angle of your stance. 

Emma: I see…

Kagari: Also, never hunch your back on a battlefield.

Emma: I never noticed I was doing that.

Kagari: Exactly. Even though you’re dressed like one of my subordinates, you’re weak.

Emma: … I’m sorry. 

Cat: Nyaa… 

While I was guiding her for future use, I heard a meowing sound coming from next to my feet. 

It was the stray cat I had an undesirable, yet inseparable relationship with. 

Kagari: Ah, give me a minute.

I folded a piece of paper with instructions on how to deal with the men lying on the ground and handed it to the cat. 

It gave a delighted meow as it took the paper in its mouth and scurried off. 

Emma: What was that…?

Kagari: Calico No.1.

Kagari: It often roams the streets. So if you ever need to contact me, you can count on it for that.

Emma: So instead of a carrier pigeon… you have a carrier cat.

Kagari: Yeah. 

(This guy’s more temperamental than a pigeon, though.)

Emma: About the piece of paper you gave it earlier on…

Kagari: I summoned my subordinates. It’s a hassle to clean up this mess. 

I stood up and looked down at the amateurish assassins lying on the ground. 

The Princess looked eager for an explanation, almost to the point she was getting restless. 

(They’re no more significant than random passersby, but…) 

Kagari: This is a “gift” I receive on my birthday every year, amidst the celebrations. 

Kagari: I was looking forward to a more challenging opponent, but I got disappointed this year too.

The Princess frowned at my blunt response.

(Is she angry?)

(Weird. It doesn't even concern her.)

(Maybe this is something “strange” to the Princess?)

(When you come from a different place, what’s common and what’s not changes. That's interesting.)

(What’s common knowledge to me, might not be so common to her.) 

…

Night fell as usual, and it was time for the banquet.

Savouring the enjoyable time we had together, I parted ways with the Princess. 

Soon after, the ever so hardworking Calico No.1 came with a letter in its mouth.

…

I went to the cherry blossom tree where I sometimes admired the flowers with the Princess, and the sender of that letter looked clearly pleased to see me. 

Feeling comforted by her reaction, I sat down next to her under the tree. 

Emma: Has the banquet ended?

Kagari: Not yet.

Emma: You managed to slip away.

Kagari: Your summon is more important.

Cat: Nyaa 

(Is it asking for a reward?)

I gently petted the cat that had been nuzzling itself against my leg and it left like it was never there. 

Heartless cat. 

(Right now, the Princess is more important than Calico No.1.)

Kagari: You changed your clothes.

Emma: Yes, I wanted to meet you as my usual self.

Emma: If I’m going to celebrate your birthday, I want to do it as the version of me you met in Kogyoku.  

Kagari: … 

(Is this what she meant when she said she “wanted some of my time after the banquet”?)

Emma: Happy birthday, Prince Kagari.

The Princess, who had been hesitant about wishing me a happy birthday this morning, presented me with a cherry blossom-patterned package.

I accepted the package, unwrapped it, and took out what was insides

Kagari: A book? 

Emma: It’s a storybook from Rhodolite. 

(It’s my first time receiving a book as a birthday gift. I’m feeling uneasy.)

Kogyoku’s Yasha was thought by others to only wield swords and never read books. 

But in truth, I don’t dislike reading. 

Emma: You’ve taught me many wonderful things about Kogyoku. 

Emma: It’s thrilling to discover new things about the world that I’ve never known before, so…

Emma: I chose this book because I want you to experience that thrill too. It’s one of my favourites. 

Emma: … And, if possible, I thought it might help convey Rhodolite’s charm too…

Kagari: The book is set in Rhodolite?

Emma: That’s right! It’s a collection of heartwarming short stories.

Emma: It’s the perfect remedy for when you’re feeling worn out.

Kagari: I almost forgot you’re a book merchant.

(I thought it’s just like any other book, but this one’s carefully chosen by the Princess.)

Knowing the amount of thought put into the gift made it much more significant. 

Kagari: You’re probably the only one who’d think of giving me a book. 

(I’ve decided. I’ll make this a family heirloom.)

I stared at the cover, flipped through the pages, and briefly scanned through the text. 

It doesn't seem like I’ll be running into any trouble if I end up with too much free time for a while. 

Emma: … I’m relieved I could properly celebrate your birthday. 

I looked up when she suddenly spoke.

The Princess heaved a sigh of relief, like she had been holding her breath for a while. 

Kagari: You’re overthinking it. I’d never find it bothersome to be celebrated. 

Emma: But your detached reaction to all the greetings and gifts made me rather worried that you would. 

Kagari: … Did I come off that way?

(I didn't realise. No wonder the Princess hesitated.)

I closed the book and lowered my gaze. 

Kagari: It’s not that I dislike being celebrated, or that I’m uninterested in birthdays.

Kagari: It’s just… I still don’t know what I should be feeling when I’m being celebrated.

Kagari: It’s been a recent problem for me.

Never had I ever imagined that not having extravagant birthday celebrations like my older brother did would someday become a source of my troubles. 

(Receiving a celebration particularly from her is complicated.)

(... I feel restless, and it’s hard to even look her in the eyes.)

(Is this the correct feeling I should be getting? What kind of emotion is this?) 

As I sat there in silence, full of uncertainty, a gentle breeze blew. 

Petals from the cherry blossom tree that was in bloom all year round danced in the air and fluttered down. 

The Princess, whose attention had been constantly focused on the Yasha until now, suddenly turned her gaze toward the cherry blossoms.

Emma: It’s beautiful. 

(…)

The restlessness turned into something murky. 

(... Not going to look at me anymore?)

(You’re so heartless.)

I grabbed a fistful of the Princess’ skirt. 

It was a spontaneous gesture. 

Emma: Prince Kagari?

(Why must I lose her to some cherry blossoms?)

Kagari: You’ve been thinking about my birthday all day long, and now you’re completely mesmerised by cherry blossoms? 

Emma: Of course I’m still thinking about your birthday. 

Emma: I just think that it looks as though the cherry blossoms are celebrating too… 

Kagari: Just you celebrating it is enough. Don’t look away. 

For some reason, the Princess reacted to my vent with a gentle smile. 

Kagari: … What are you smiling about?

Emma: It’s nothing. 

(I’m curious… but this doesn't feel so bad.)

I felt my facial expression soften, and the Princess turned her gaze to the cherry blossoms once again.

My grip on the fabric of her skirt tightened. 

Emma: … I planned to only give you your gift, but we ended up talking for quite a while.

Emma: Shouldn’t you return to the banquet soon, Prince Kagari?

Kagari: …

(I don't want to.)

(I want her to celebrate my birthday, more than the banquet.) 

(But somehow, even though they’re all celebrations, something feels different.)

I retraced the day’s events, recalling each and every one of the Princess’ words and trying to pinpoint the cause of my restlessness. 

(If there is a difference… it’d be that everyone else’s celebrations are nothing more than mere formalities.)

(You could say they have ulterior motives, wanting to gain the Yasha’s favour and protection.)

(But the Princess’ celebration doesn't have any of that.) 

(... This is the first time I’m receiving a sincere birthday celebration.)

Kagari: Princess, don’t you want to keep the Yasha all to yourself?

Emma: I think I’ve already monopolised you enough. 

(It’s not enough.)

(... I want more)

Kagari: … Stay here.

Emma: Then… I’ll take you up on the offer.

Emma: Can I continue celebrating your birthday for a little while longer? 

Kagari: Yeah. 

Hearing the word “celebrate” from her lips made me restless again. 

(Could this restless feeling be… bashfulness?) 

(... Am I actually feeling bashful because she’s celebrating my birthday?) 

(That’s a first. I learned something new today.)

Kagari: If you want to celebrate, do it. I can’t guarantee I’ll make it to my next birthday.

Emma: … I don't like such jokes.

Kagari: I’m not joking. But rest assured that I want you to celebrate my birthday over and over again.

(It’d be nice if there’ll be a “next��.) 

(... I want to feel bashful again. I want to experience this feeling even more.)

(I want to get to know this restlessness better.)

(When I’m with her… my emotions come alive.)

…

When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by darkness.

(... Did I fall asleep?)

As I regained consciousness, I realised I was holding a book in my arms.

I heard a faint sound of gentle breathing coming from next to me.

I shifted my gaze in its direction to see Calico No.1 laying there with its belly facing up, looking completely defenseless.

(It's getting better at hiding its presence and becoming more shameless too.)

(Who exactly does that remind me of?)

Careful not to wake Calico No.1, I picked up the book and opened it while laying down. 

Even though I had already finished it and remembered its contents, my eyes didn't stop following the text.

The stories were set in a peaceful country called Rhodolite. 

The Princess, born in that kind of country, was honest, straightforward, and her existence dazzling bright. 

(That makes sense.)

On my birthday — when I received those empty, soulless birthday greetings from the crowd, the Princess looked like she couldn't stand it any longer and took my hand.

Under the cherry blossom tree, her smile was like a flower in full bloom and she celebrated the Yasha’s birthday genuinely from the heart.

(She has a beautiful heart.)

(And yet, she unhesitatingly held these hands of mine that have been stained with blood of the people I’ve killed and even gave me her blessings.)

(Ah…)

(... I want the Princess).

(But I don't understand why I want her.)

(Will I understand it if she becomes mine, just like this book?)

I sat up and closed the book.

Although the battle was over and my body was supposedly back to its usual state, my head started feeling fuzzy again. 

That sensation worsened when an image of the Princess’ face emerged in my mind. 

Despite knowing my symptoms were worsening, my hands refused to let go of the book. 

I couldn’t peel my eyes off it.

It was as though I was clinging onto it.

(I want to see her.)

(I want to see the Princess.)

[gischtglas]

From the top of my head:

Horses are fairly quiet animals. They do have a wide range of vocalisations but they don't like to draw attention to themselves (see above re them being prey animals), so they communicate through body language rather than through making noises.

You do not want your horse to carry double. If there's nothing else for it and you don't need that horse for long, sure. You do you. But horses are expensive (and always have been) and finding a good one isn't easy.

Horses don't particularly like having anything on their backs, things touching their face and / or tugging at their (highly sensitive!) mouths. You can't just throw a saddle on a horse. This is how you either get (1) a dead horse (they have been known to kill themselves by way of panicked accident), (2) a well and truly destroyed saddle (while cheaper than a horse, good saddles are also expensive) or (3) a dead human (horses are big, heavy animals that can and have killed humans simply by way of panicking and trying to get away).

Horses also don't necessarily like dogs. Dogs still look a lot like wolves to many herbivores' eyes and horses are no exception. (Note here that horses evolved to run away from predators. They are very good at this! They are maybe even too good at this! But this does not predispose them to stick around and find out if the thing will eat them. They'd rather fuck off now and ask questions later.)

Not all horses are multi-disciplinary. A riding horse ≠ a coach horse ≠ a plough horse ≠ a charger. Much like with humans, learning how to do even one job takes time. Two to three jobs are probably fine, but if I have to see another farm boy riding to battle on his parents' plow horse...

So your knight has a faithful stallion he's riding into battle? Then he's not riding him to the battle. He's taking every damn care that the faithful stallion arrives on the scene as fresh as a daisy, because (1) they're both going to need their strength and (2) training a horse to run at a wall of scary people waving pointy sticks at it takes time and makes it even more expensive than it already would have been.

A good rule of thumb is this: Could a human athlete do this without risking severe injury? (Run at their top speed for hours, carry two children directly on their spine for an extended period of time, run at their top speed while carrying a child in their spine and wearing full plate armour, swim a raging current while someone keeps having their head back, etc)? No? Then the horse can't either.

God I wish more fantasy writers knew how horses work.

‘After a couple hours at a solid gallop they arrived-‘ after galloping for multiple hours??? That horse is fucking dead what are you TALKING about. Have you ever tried sprinting for multiple hours at a time?????? If you are traveling long distances by horseback you are keeping at a walk with an occasional trot and an even more occasional canter, you are not galloping the poor beast the whole way there I don’t care how cool the aerial shots of galloping horses look in film.

Also they make more noises than just neighing. For the record. Since I’m on the subject.

[gain-stuff-eat]

who, may i ask, are you growing these love handles for, hm?

they're so luscious, filling my hands, you've made all this fat so easy to grab with your constant eating and endless stuffing

you are the very picture of excess and indulgence

don't think i haven't noticed all that snacking you've been doing, the constant grazing, the multiple meals, the huge portions, the increasing amount of delivery orders that show up all times of the day and night

you're insatiable and your body shows it

it's obviously not an accident, what you're doing to yourself. you clearly enjoy it. i doubt you thought you'd get this out of control... oh, you liked that? pointing out your uncontrollable appetite, the fact that you can no longer resist this hedonistic lifestyle you've spiraled into?

you're craving more right now, in fact, aren't you?

why don't you just go ahead and eat? we both know that's all you want to do anymore. all you think about. eating and stuffing until you can't move, and masturbating until you fall asleep. then waking up and doing it all again with even more food than the last time maybe because you can't help yourself. it's not your fault it keeps taking bigger and bigger meals to reach that fullness you constantly crave

gluttony looks so good on you

so much decadent fat. it spills and undulates off your frame. don't you feel so heavy? doesn't it feel so good? you wobble and jiggle with every step, no wonder it's hard to think about anything other than food

it's so easy to grab all this pudge because your shirt doesn't even fit. hadn't you noticed your gut hanging out? or has outgrowing clothes become so normal you don't even notice? with the way you stuff your face i'd be surprised if anything in your wardrobe fits. but the fabric strains over your softened, expanding body and reminds you to keep eating too, huh? you like how it feels a little uncomfortable, fits a little poorly, draws eyes to your growing figure

it makes you want to eat

i can tell because you started touch and feel your belly at just the thought, even though i can tell you ate not that long ago with way you can barely move, how you've beached yourself

you're so greedy

but that's okay because you chose this for yourself. you wanted this. you conditioned yourself to get this fat, you've pleasured yourself to the fantasy, after each massive stuffing, and now the reality is you crave this feeling. glutting yourself, getting heavy, the constant bliss of being in a bigger body all the time because food just taste too good and you only want more of it

don't be shy, go ahead and play with your belly. there's so much it, it's impossible to resist. press a finger into your navel, revel in how you've transformed yourself through your appetite alone

speaking of, better get yourself something to eat soon

you're starting to get hungry again

[its10pm]

Michael Afton Headcanons

Just a fun headcanon dump to get into the writing mood :) These are super random though. I think I'm possessed.

Mike is a huge pirate fan. He wanted to be a pirate until he was 8 (which is when he wanted to be an astronaut).

His favorite food is lasagna (his mom's is the best).

He's super tall and has always been super tall. The coach ran him down to play basketball his sophomore year of high school.

He's been working for his dad since he was seven. By the time he's in high school, he can basically run any shift by himself.

His best classes in high school are gym, physics and art class.

He would eat at least two full boxes of pizza per day, if he were allowed to.

He's really good at all of their arcade games. His highest score is in Pac-Man, though.

He's super scared of heights.

He went to a British primary school in London before his dad moved back to Utah when he was 6.

He "learned" how to play the electric guitar when he was fourteen. "Learned" is doing a lot of heavy lifting, because he can only read tab and really only learned riffs and some easy AC/DC songs.

Somehow, he's still able to impress people, even though he is clearly just abusing a whammy bar.

He plays basketball, football and baseball. He likes sports because he means he's home less.

He really likes cars a lot. He suped up his truck's engine when he was 16 and has almost wrecked it in races with other high schoolers multiple times. But car stuff is how he bonds with William, Henry and Ralph.

He's been smoking since he was 11. William doesn't really care, as long as he doesn't steal his.

He spends a lot of time taking over house activities for his mom, when she's too tired to get out of bed. This has made him a pretty good cook, though.

He's kind of a cool guy in school, but he's sort of seen as a 'bad kid' and a 'huge asshole', so he's definitely got a smaller group of friends. This is fine, because he's kind of a loner anyway.

He gets pretty good grades, except for in English class (he has dyslexia).

He has a pretty huge crush on Maria Rodriguez. He embarrasses himself to try and impress her a lot.

When he was thirteen, he broke his arm wrestling the school security guard to impress a girl. His friends have not let him live this down.

When he was fifteen, he drove into the school's gym while trying to show his friends a sick car trick over the weekend. His father has yet to let him live this down.

He and William fight a lot. I mean, most of the time. But they're kind of similar people, with similar senses of humor and some overlapping interests, so sometimes they can have friendly conversations with each other.

Mike likes gossiping with his Aunt Vangie (Henry's wife) and his mom.

When he was fourteen, he made up a game of throwing up lawn darts and having the neighborhood kids catch them. This was stopped after a few too many close calls.

He also made a game of rolling kids down hills in tractor tires. This was only stopped after he got bored of it.

He's the kind of guy that punches wholes in the dry wall.

He used to BMX, but Chip is way better at it, so he gave that dream up because he hates being one-upped by his own posse.

He doodles sometimes in class. He likes to impress girls by drawing them. He also likes trying the Fazbear band. A lot.

Foxy is his favorite animatronic. He ships him with Chica.

He rough-houses with Evan and Elizabeth. A lot.

This includes farting on their heads and forces them to smell his arm pit.

He cackles.

He's a cool guy, so he sneaks out to go to parties a lot.

Sometimes this means stealing William's nice cars, which he will always end up regretting.

He likes watching soaps with his mom.

He's the best of all his siblings of picking up his room.

His room is full of posters of hot supermodels and Playboy models, by the way.

He's given all of the animatronics personalities. Bonnie's is the malevolent, in his view.

He's very violent and gets into physical fights with others a lot.

Big undiagnosed bipolar disorder energy.

He chews gum all the time. Literally all the time. It's very annoying.

He had a Mormon baby blessing, but he was never baptized.

He gets invited to church activities sometimes. People almost always regret it.

He dresses in the more general, 80s rock 'n' roll, hair metal style, but he is a goth rock lover.

His middle name is James.

He smokes weed sometimes. But he mostly just drinks.

His mom's parents live in Virgin. He doesn't visit them that often, even though they're kind of close, because William is embarrassed to be associated with them. He is the oldest of their grandchildren, though. (Teen pregnancy things.)

He was sent to a pretty extensive psychiatric programme in Draper after killing Evan.

He graduated high school early.

[xiixae]

呪術廻戦 x f!reader . warnings : MDNI 18+ smut . © xiixae

💿 ships / tropes ꒰ separate ꒱ ── ✦

tattooist!gojo , tattooist!geto & tattooist!sukuna x client!reader

ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

a piercing feeling of a needle sent shivers down your spine as you bit your lips closed, you were finally getting a tattoo. it was a small 'made in hell' marking the curve under your tits.

"why don't you relax your shoulders a bit, darling?"

come on. you couldn't display your weak side in front of your crush! you had to buckle up, and you knew it already. but knowing it made it worse to control all the moans you were letting out, trying to hide your pain from him.

minute by minute you felt his hand sweating on your belly, your eyes were half-closed but you could tell he was horny. the bulge underneath his baggy lower was very noticeable and he couldn't even hide it.

"mhm- looks like someone's turned on?"

the tattoo was just half way done when he turned off the electric needle, flipping you over to the other side, earning a gasp from you. he spanked the fat of your ass as he spoke.

"for fuck's sake, stop moaning like a slut you whore, its just a tattoo."

he ran his long fingers on the curves of your body, worshiping every inch of your glassy skin, leaving kisses and marks followed by a sharp grip he had on your neck, choking you a little.

"you're mine now, got it?"

he striped off the thinnest fabric of your shorts along with your panties, bending down while angling your pussy inches from his face.

"ahh.. she seems too needy f'me, doesn't she?"

ɢᴇᴛᴏ ꜱᴜɢᴜʀᴜ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

getting a spider lily tattoo stretching along your back had always been dream for you, but it was now a reality thanks to this hot guy you've been simping on for what felt like forever.

"stay still, will ya?"

you let a small 'hmm' sound as you winked at your bestie (more like a reg client), much to his annoyance getting a 'tsk' in return. for fuck's sake why did you always find his tsking so sexy?

a sudden grab around your waist pulled your body backward, your ass rubbing against what you thought it was. ain't no fucking way this was happening.

"y'know what, idiot? i'm sorry but i ain't getting a better timing f'this."

he fondled your tits, drawing a couple of little circles around your nipples, which were already poking out of the only crop top that covered your boobs from the moment he started working on your tattoo.

turning you around, he noticed a light shade of red raising up your cheeks as he rubbed your throbbing cunt against your wet underwear, and it was the last sign for him to make you his.

"buckle up, it's gonna be a long night."

ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

you made sure to wear the shortest skirt and the tightest top you had for this one appointment with the sexiest tattooist of your neighborhood. this was the golden opportunity you've always been waiting for, after all.

"c'mere, have a seat. y'want the ink jus'bove your ass, right?"

you nodded as you passed him a smirk while lifting his chin up to make your eyes meet his as he raised a brow before laying on your stomach for the tattoo process, pulling your skirt down a little before he thought he could get a good view.

what you didn't know was why he didn't have any other customer waiting outside in an endless queue just to catch a glance of him. weird?

"you're not really here just f'the tat, hm?"

you turned around sitting upright with your brows frowning at him in disbelief, only watching his smirk grow wider by the second. how the fuck did he know?

"alright, i'll give ya both if y'want, but only after i get what a want from ya."

he got closer to your face, his lips a few millimeters away from yours, but he whispered something in your ear instead.

"be mine. n' i'm not giving a choice."

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy III

an art professor Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU...

III.

-You like the atmosphere in the classroom. It's a good group of students. They like their teacher, they like you. Everyone is very chill about the human body for what it is, and no one makes you feel uncomfortable. There is one student who maybe likes you for more than just shapes on the page, though. 

You gently rebuff Matt’s attempts to flirt in the classroom. You're a little older than most of the students, though you are still far from what you consider an actual adult. You're more staff than faculty, but it still feels like forbidden territory. 

When lunch time comes and you are sitting at the picnic table under an old maple tree, soaking up the last warmth of autumn, Matt takes the liberty of sitting with you. He is cute, and soft spoken, and he has sad brown eyes that feel safe to fall into. You like his leather jacket, and his long legs, and his sideways smile. When he invites you to see his band play that weekend you offer a noncommittal maybe. Are you allowed to mingle socially with the students? When he looks through his long hair at you with those puppy dog eyes, you are sorely tempted. 

Little do you know a certain professor watches from the window of his office with narrowed dark eyes, and stews. 

When critique time comes next class it seems like he is extra hard on the young man, nitpicking to the extreme, and it carries a definite weight coming from the forbidding figure that is Professor Wick, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his blackhole gaze fixed mercilessly upon the art, and then the artist. Wick finishes with the recommendation that Matt would do well to focus more on his art and less on other distractions. 

The young man does not try to flirt with you again in class. In fact, he won’t even meet your eyes, and you can tell he’s crushed. 

Though he sits impassively at his desk in the corner, Professor Wick enjoys a bone-deep satisfaction over this small victory. 

He can’t stop himself, from thinking of you as his. 

-Maybe because you feel a little sorry for Matt, you go to his show at a dive bar not far from your apartment. He plays the bass, not badly, and you'd be a liar if you claimed watching his unfairly sized hands skillfully moving across the fretboard didn't do something to you. You sit at the bar with a gin and tonic, telling yourself you’re there to watch but not with him. What could be wrong with that? Even still, when he picks you out in the crowd he shoots you a shy smile that pulls at your heartstrings. 

The bar is packed, a mix of people from all walks of life. The lights are low, visibility in the glow of neon lights paltry at best. Just for a moment, you swear you see a familiar tall dark form in the crowd at the other end of the bar. 

This does not seem like Professor Wick’s scene…but stranger things have happened? 

You find yourself sitting up straighter, for some reason your heart racing double-time. You search the shadows of the close-pressed crowd, but you do not see him again, and you chide yourself that you were mistaken. 

You shouldn’t be as disappointed as you are, but you cannot shake the feeling that weighs upon your skin. Clearly you are seeing things, but…you wish it had been him, and suddenly all you want is to go home. 

You stick it out to the intermission, when Matt wades through the crowd to get to you across the bar. It takes him a while–you are not the only girl in the audience who has come to see him, and you are heartened that he won’t be alone if he doesn’t want to be. “Hey,” he says with a shy smile when he finally makes it to your side. 

“Hey. You guys are great.”

“Thanks. Want to step outside with me?” 

The two of you lean on the brick wall in the alley while he partakes of a smoke. Neither of you have said much. You can’t tell if the silence is awkward, or if he’s like you, and doesn’t mind the quiet. The air is crisp outside; fall has arrived, and you pull your coat closer around you. “Cold?” Matt lifts his arm in invitation, offering you his body heat like you are a baby bird he could tuck under his wing. It’s tempting, but you just can’t shake this weird feeling like you shouldn’t be here. 

“I’m ok.” 

He nods, weighing you with that sad dark gaze, and you wonder for the umpteenth time what’s wrong with you. “Want…to hang out after the show?” 

“I…have to work in the morning.” It’s true. You have to open the bookstore, your steady gig that pays most of your bills, though that doesn’t usually keep you from staying up late. 

“Oh..” He nods, like you’ve answered more than just that question for him, but he’s cool about it in a way that you’re grateful for, even if it breaks your heart for some reason. 

“I guess…I better get back inside.”

“Ok.” 

“See you around?” 

“See you in class.” He makes a pained little sound, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his plush lips. 

You turn to go, ready to walk home, when he calls out to you. 

“Hey. Wait.” 

He closes the distance between you, even daring to tug you a little by the lapel of your coat, and you sense his intention a moment before he executes. You turn your head, kissing him on the cheek instead. He groans with disappointment, but also a self-deprecating huff of laughter that you have to admit is adorable. “Alright. Later, y/n.”      

He disappears through the service door, and you make your way down the broken sidewalk with your hands in your pockets and a dissatisfied static inside that has nothing to do with Matt. 

It won’t be a long walk, though it is cold. You are regretting your decision to wear a skirt, even with tights and cute boots. Maybe you need a longer coat. Maybe you need a few more brain cells, or maybe you could even get a goddamn grip. 

You are halfway home when the purr of a loud engine draws your attention, a moment before a black Porsche pulls up to the curb beside you. 

TBC...

___

masterlist/chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[adumbratrapedme]

Kita x reader | teen pregnancy. pt 1 the news.

Synopsis. a teen pregnancy storie between kita and a reader.

wc. idk | genre. angst to fluff |cw/tags. angst to fluff, teen pregnancy mentions, etc.

teen pregnancy series masterlist here!

NOTE: Lately, I’ve been rereading Love is an Illusion by Fargo—a series that meant a lot to my 15-year-old, friendless self and Kita’s parts in my story will be heavily inspired by it. Fargo gave me a vision, and I’m going with it. Of course, it won’t be 100% like Love is an Illusion, but I’m drawing inspiration from it for a few key conflicts. Just wanted to let everyone know!

general headcanons:

╭⋅We know kita was raised by his grandma so he def. was raised with a very traditional mindset, giving him a strong sense of responsibility, ╭⋅The moment Kita finds out about the pregnancy, he’s all in. His sense of responsibility kicks in, and he’s committed to the idea of making things work, no matter what it takes. His decision to marry isn’t rushed or impulsive—he truly believes it’s the only way to handle the situation properly, it’s not a question of if, it’s a question of how. ╭⋅Also sees marriage as a natural step when you’re in a relationship, and even more so when a child is involved. To him, it’s about ensuring that the family unit is stable and that everyone is taken care of. ╭⋅He is the type of person who remains calm in any situation, but this can be overwhelming for someone like you, since he tends to approach problems with logic and practicality which can make him seem distant when you just want emotional reassurance. ╭⋅Despite this, Kita genuinely believes he’s doing what’s best for you, and it takes time for him to understand that maybe u might need more from him than just steady support. ╭⋅Even with his sometimes cold demeanor, Kita has a surprisingly strong paternal instinct. The idea of becoming a father and raising his child with you is something he takes very seriously. While he’s calm, you can tell by his actions that he’s preparing himself for the long haul, making sure everything is in place for their future. ╭⋅I also feel or want to headcanon that kita’s grandmother raised him with the belief that family is everything, so he is fiercely protective of those he cares about, and while he’s not overbearing, he has a way of quietly supporting you through everything.

You sat on the edge of the school rooftop, legs tucked to your chest, eyes glued to the horizon. The wind ruffled your uniform, and the faint sounds of students below felt distant, like they belonged to a different world.

Because right now, your world was crumbling.

The pregnancy test was still in your bag. As if you needed to see it again to believe it.

Positive.

Your breath hitched. How the hell did this happen?! Well, okay, obviously, you knew how, but… you and Kita had always been careful. Sure, sometimes things got heated, and sure, Kita was frustratingly good at making you lose your mind, but still—how did it end up like this?

Your hands clenched around the fabric of your skirt. This is a nightmare.

"(Y/N)."

Your body tensed at the familiar voice. Heavy footsteps. The scrape of the door closing behind him.

Kita.

You didn’t turn around, but you knew he was already beside you, his presence as steady as ever.

"You missed lunch," he said simply.

Your stomach twisted. You bit your lip, keeping your eyes on the sky. "Wasn’t hungry."

A pause. Then—

"You're lying."

Your jaw clenched. Of course, he could tell. Kita never pried. He never pushed. But he also never let things slide, not when it came to you.

A warm hand settled on the top of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair in that absentminded way he always did when he knew you were upset. Usually, it calmed you down. Today, it just made your heart ache.

You swallowed hard. “Kita…”

"Hm?"

Your hands trembled. The words caught in your throat, tangled and suffocating.

How do you even say something like this?

Your chest felt tight. You gritted your teeth, then blurted out, "I’m pregnant."

Silence.

The wind howled between you, rustling the rooftop fence.

Slowly, you turned your head to look at him. Kita’s face was unreadable, his sharp golden eyes locked onto yours, unwavering.

Then, he exhaled. "I see."

…That was it?

Your stomach twisted. "That’s all you have to say?"

Kita hummed thoughtfully. Then, with a tone as steady as ever, he said, "We’ll get married."

Your brain short-circuited. "HUH?"

His expression didn’t waver. "We’ll get married," he repeated, as if he were just stating a fact. "I’ll talk to my grandma first. Then we’ll tell to your parents."

Your jaw dropped. "Are you insane?!"

Kita blinked, confused. "No."

You gawked at him. "Kita, we’re still in high school! You’re just—just deciding this on your own?!"

His brows furrowed slightly. "What’s there to decide?"

You wanted to scream. How could he be so calm about this?! Your entire world was falling apart, and he was acting like you’d just told him you forgot your umbrella.

"You don’t—!" You inhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself. "You don’t have to do this out of obligation."

Kita frowned. "It ain’t obligation. It’s responsibility."

"You don’t even seem shocked!"

He gave you a long, considering look. Then, with infuriating calm, he said, "Well… I had a feeling."

You nearly choked. "A feeling?!"

Kita nodded. "You've been getting dizzy. Your appetite’s been weird. And you stopped wanting coffee."

Your eye twitched. "That doesn’t mean I’m pregnant!"

Kita just shrugged. "Still figured I’d prepare myself for the possibility."

Oh. Oh, my God.

This was so Kita. Of course he’d already processed this before you even knew. Of course he’d seen all the signs, analyzed them, and just waited for you to come to him.

Your entire body trembled, overwhelmed with frustration, panic, and the unbearable weight of reality crashing down on you. Your breath hitched. "I-I can’t do this," you whispered.

Kita finally moved closer, his hand cupping the back of your head, pulling you forward until your forehead rested against his chest. His heart was steady, strong, unshaken.

"You're not alone," he murmured. "I got you."

Your fingers curled into his uniform. "But…" Your voice was barely a whisper. "Do you even love me?"

Kita exhaled through his nose, his fingers threading through your hair.

"Love ain't just words, (Y/N)," he said. "It's action. And I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

Your chest tightened.

This was really happening.

And Kita Shinsuke was not letting go.

General Taglist:

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02 @alpha-mommy69 @curlyhairkk @b1xi @reuka1 @feyrfly @elmaa127

if you want to be part of the taglist you can always DM me or coment! also if u only want to be tagged on specific characters.

-if i forgor someone pls tell me and dont be shy, i get really lost with the taglist thingy ahhh

[girlinthemirrorbluenight-library]

My art for the first ever @destielaureversebb. You can check out the fic here by @ravenfuchs who wrote a beautiful story about queer joy and finding community and also saving the bees.

Sharing some details under the cut.

So for the first piece which is what I submitted for claims, I really wanted a Dean who was just so comfortable with himself and happy and queer. In my head that means tons of tattoos and jewelry. The idea is these tattoos started out sort of impulsively with random flash like the little pizza and mom heart, but eventually he started putting more thought into it and got larger pieces like the solar system and the ocean. His jewelry is also all cosmic themed with stars, moons, suns, and the aquarius symbol which is his star sign. The bracelets I also imagine were made by a friend or maybe someone who came into the center where he works.

Confession, I've never actually been to a Pride parade, I know. I have been to different pride events though including queer bingo hosted by a drag queen. But I thought about both tables I've seen at events and looking up different LGBTQ center websites to see what resources they had. I probably didn't need to type an actual list out but as you can probably tell I really went for the details with these pieces so we have a full list of real services and original pamphlets.

From the second piece, we have some fun details with Dean's jewelry where he has this fun little charm bracelet a little inspired by Lucky Charms and earrings that match his frog t-shirt.

So these guys along with the Yoda plush are things Charlie actually owns in the show. The Pez dispensers are at her desk at Roman Enterprises. I showed these to my dad who is a huge Tolkien fan to see if he recognized them and it was a success.

Scooby Doo Clue is a real board game variant of Clue that Dean would 100% own. Drawing this board game with the actual details for all the rooms along with all the accurate game pieces took an insane amount of time but hopefully it was worth it? This is definitely the most detailed digital background I've ever done but it was very fun if time consuming.

Some Charlie house details. The board games are all either common ones or ones I thought she'd enjoy. She does canonically enjoy TTRPGs but most of these are more traditional board games. I actually own a couple of Star Wars games including Star Wars Risk and Star Wars Life, but not Outer Rim or Rebellion. The books are all canon references. Charlie canonically is a fan of the Game of Thrones/Song of Ice and Fire series and of course The Hobbit is very important to her and is what she used to read with her parents before the car accident. The rest of the books are all based on her aliases. She uses a combination of a Stephen King character + a sci-fi/fantasy author. So we have The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K Le Guin, The Halloween Tree, Fahrenheit 451 (which yes I did misspell oops), and The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury, and a couple Stephen King books including Carrie and Fire Starter which is where Charlene comes from. These book titles actually took a really long time because Krita does not have the most robust text tool yet but oh well.

[frogemeat]

Back on my shit for my relativity falls AU where Stan goes missing because I can!! And no one can stop me!

So let’s actually dive into the characters a bit more this time and their reactions to Stan’s disappearance.

We’re going to start with Mabel because I feel like in any universe Mabel and Stan have a special connection, one where they just understand eachother, y’know?

In my relativity falls au, Stan is reluctant to open up at first to Mabel. Surprisingly it was Ford who warmed up to her first. Stan, at first, is very distrustful of adults and people in authority in general (when I get you Filbrick, when I get you-) so he keeps distance between himself and Mabel at first.

He’s his usual rambunctious self, loud and unapologetic about, but he doesn’t rant to her about the latest addition of his favorite comic, he doesn’t let her look at his drawings and anytime she wants to spend one on one time on him he would turn her down. Eventually he warmed up to her, which is more my actual relativity falls au then this, so I won’t go into it (unless someone wants me to 👀).

So when I say Mabel worked hard, she worked hard to get Stan’s trust. And she’s proud of that dammit!

To her Stan is such a bright star who’s often overlooked by his genius of a twin brother (something she can heavily relate too) and she wanted to nurture his creativity. And she did!

She displayed the weird Frankenstein taxidermy he made in the shack, she taught him how to knit and sew and he even started to let her watch “the duchess approves” with her!

They grew close and Mabel started to see both the twins as her sons. She had suspicions that their home life was… less than good and she was SUPER unsure about sending them home after summer ended. She didn’t think the decision would’ve been made for her.

Weirdmaggdeon was over. They won. Steve (Bill’s replacement in this AU) is gone. But they weren’t celebrating. The only thought the three Pines had was…

Where’s Stan?

They searched the woods for him long at the r the sun set. She had to drag Ford back home when he started tripping over his own feet, his exhaustion evident. Ford tried to insist he was okay, that he could keep looking, that he needed to keep looking, that Stan was out there, he needed to continue. Stan would keep looking for him if their roles were reversed.

All Mabel could do was shush him as he cried against her shoulder.

Dipper stayed behind and kept looking and both Mabel and Ford went home without their other half. Long after Ford had passed out Dipper had finally come home, empty handed. They spent the rest of the night talking about what to do. They would check town first thing in the morning, they had decided. Maybe in his daze he had wandered out of the woods and one of the townsfolk’s found him. If not, they would go to the police, see if anyone had reported a small brown haired preteen wandering around. (

They also discussed the possibility of Stan being dead, but Mabel couldn’t even stomach the thought of it. They quickly stopped when Mabel started to cry.)

She had just met the twins, only known them for three months, yet they were hers. Her boys. Her babies. Her peanut and walnut. And Stan was gone.

The boy she swore to protect, the boy who pretended he was tough when he was really the sweetest kid she ever met.

Days go by and still no Stan. Ford refuses to talk to anyone, Dipper is out of the house for most of the day searching, and Mabel is left alone, surrounded by half finished knitting projects and echoes of a boy who’s laughter warmed her heart.

She cries a lot. That’s all she does for the first few months.

One day, after Ford’s parents (not Stan and Ford’s, just Ford’s, because apparently no one remember’s her little peanut outside of Gravity Falls) drops off all his stuff for his apprenticeship with Dipper, she’s pulls herself together, makes her famous Mabelcakes, and starts to rebuild. Dipper had done amazing keeping them together, but it was time for some Mabel magic.

Three years pass and the Stan shaped hole in their family doesn’t get smaller. Ford still turns to his right whenever he gets excited, Mabel still hasn’t watched the season finale of “the duchess approves” (she couldn’t finish it without Stan, not when he was so excited to show it to her), and Dipper sometimes still goes into the woods to search.

Ford is turning 17 in a few weeks. June 15th. She’s in Greasy’s after deciding that a snack sounded good after buying birthday presidents for her walnut and instead of Susan greeting her and taking her order like she has since she started working there, she was greeted with a new face.

A familiar face.

Even older, more pimply, and with a beanie pulled down so far it almost covered his eyes, she would recognize him.

Her peanut.

[miss0atae]

Random Thoughts about Gelboys EP1 : The excitement of teen love, nail art and queer identity.

I made the decision to watch this series because it was centered around the turmoil of teen romance with nail art as the basis for the story. If you ask me nowadays if I have any interest for nail art, I would answer with a firm “no”. I have no interest with nail art anymore, but there was a time when I was younger and it was really important to me. I had several nail polishes of so many different colors and I used to change them a lot. I tried to make few designs, but turns out it's far more complicated to draw on your own nails than it is on someone's else nails. I forgot how I liked it back then when I was a teen. This long introduction that has nothing to do with the series, is to show you that I believe the creator of this series made a conscious choice when he decided to put nail art as the basis for the story and that's what I want to talk about in this “random thoughts” about the first episode.

I will make a quick summary of first episode, but you have to know there isn't much happening. This is mostly an introduction of the series' “world” and characters. We get to meet Fou4Mod aka Sakolphat Phlaphithak, a teenager boy who, in the first minutes of the series, discovers that the person he thinks he is dating, is actually seeing someone else too and he ends up blocking them from all his social media and crying from the heartbreak. Then, you'll watch him being a normal teenager: being embarrassed by his mom(‘s old taste in music) as many teens are, going to school, taking the public transport, spending time with friends, being bored in class and socializing. The first day he takes the BTS, he meets Chian and he noticed him because he was wearing nail art. From this point, he became really interested in him and it steers him to try nail art too. Unfortunately, this attraction may cause him some pain too as Chian is described as a “player” by his own friend “Bua”, another character who is a “friend” of Chian and certainly the future “love rival” of Fou4Mod. There is also another important character Baabin Saebal, Fou4Mod's friend.

So as you can see, nail art has its importance in the series. There has always been a social relevance of nail art in our society from a very long time. Unfortunately, I'm not an expert in this, so take everything I say with a grain of salt as my passion from nail art died with me discovering I had allergy to most nail polishes and I stopped caring for this when I entered university. Despite this everyone can agree that nail art is a form of creative expression. It is a way of creating its own identity through fashion because nail art can be seen as just another accessory. The color choices, the length and the shape communicate something about what you like and who you are. It's an easy way to show your individuality, and even if you're not making them yourself, it also shows your taste in art and creativity as you still get to be the one who chooses the design. In the series, the characters' nail art is made with what seems to be gel nail polish technique (I don’t know yet if it’s going to be relevant).

Nail art can be an allegory of queer identity. The fact that you can use different colors and shape to suit your taste, can be seen as letting go of your past self; the one where you couldn't be who you wanted or you had to be the way your parents/caregivers choose for you to be. In choosing some specific design for your nails, you're creating your new self, something that could be more aligned with who you want to be. It's a form of protest too, where you can reject the gender norms. If nail art can be tied to the idea of “femininity” it doesn't mean that it's only meant for this “purpose” (I'm sorry I don't a better word here). In the story of Gelboys, Fou4Mod starts doing nail art because he has developed an instant crush on Chian who was wearing it. It's probably a way of feeling connected to him that steers Fou4Mod to do it. In a way, he is self-expressing by doing nail art that he wants to become closer to Chian. I wonder if in the upcoming episodes, the choice he is going to make in his nail art will be showing the turmoil of his love life. I also want to know if there is going to be a larger discussion of his queer identity. I'm not saying it has to be shown, but I admit I would really like to see it. I feel there is a common pattern with LoveSick 2024 where I felt like young queer love can be mixed with the identity development associated with the transitional stage that is adolescence. Here in Gelboys the identity development could be seen through nail art.

Anyway, I’m pleasantly surprised by this first episode. You can see how I liked the introduction of nail art as I believe it can be queer performativity.

[ditsycafe]

the devils temptation | k.s

pairings : kim sunoo x fem!reader

genre : suggestive

warnings : mafia boss’s daughter!au, detective!sunoo, mention of jake sim, drugs,

summary : Agent Kim Sunoo, a dedicated investigator, finally gets a break in his case against infamous mafia boss jake sim when his daughter, Y/N sim, is arrested at the scene of a drug trade. Confident that he can use her to bring down her father’s empire, Sunoo interrogates her—only to find himself caught in a dangerous game of seduction and deception.

word count : 541 (small scenario)

a/n : do not in any way plagiarise, translate my work to another language or claim my work as your own.

Kim Sunoo had seen his fair share of criminals—men who killed without blinking, women who ran scams that could bankrupt a nation. But nothing had prepared him for her.

Y/N Sim.

Daughter of Jake Sims, the most feared mafia boss in the city. The kind of man whose name sent shivers down the spines of politicians, police chiefs, and rival gangs alike. A man who had evaded justice for years, slipping through the cracks like smoke.

But today, his precious daughter was in Sunoo’s custody.

She sat across from him in the dimly lit interrogation room, her hands cuffed to the metal table, her long nails tapping rhythmically against the surface. She wasn’t panicked. She wasn’t angry. If anything, she looked amused.

“Agent Kim Sunoo,” she purred, her voice smooth as silk. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Sunoo folded his arms, keeping his expression neutral. “That’s funny. You weren’t exactly on my radar.”

She smirked. “Well, you should have been. I’m very… persuasive.”

He ignored the way her voice sent a shiver down his spine. He had a job to do.

“We found you at the scene of the drug trade. You were there. You saw what happened. That makes you an accomplice.”

Y/N tilted her head, her dark eyes gleaming. “You say accomplice, I say innocent bystander.” She leaned forward, her chained wrists barely allowing her movement. “Do I look like I’d be handling drugs, Sunoo?

Sunoo forced himself to keep his gaze steady. She did look out of place in that world—dressed in an elegant black dress, her perfume expensive, her posture poised. But that made her even more dangerous. She wasn’t just Jake Sims’ daughter; she was his secret weapon.

“You were in the middle of a crime scene,” Sunoo stated. “I can hold you here for 48 hours while I dig through your past. And trust me, I will find something.”

Y/N exhaled dramatically. “So serious.” She leaned back, letting the tension simmer between them. Then, slowly, deliberately, she smiled.

“I can help you,” she murmured.

Sunoo frowned. “Help me?”

She nodded. “You want my father, don’t you? You want to put an end to his empire.” Her eyes flickered with something unreadable. “I can give you what you need.”

Sunoo studied her carefully. It was a tempting offer, but one he couldn’t trust. “Why would you betray your father?”

Y/N chuckled. “Who said anything about betrayal? I just don’t like being locked up.” She shifted in her seat, the movement drawing attention to the curve of her body. “And I think you don’t like seeing me here either.”

Sunoo clenched his jaw. He wasn’t stupid. He had seen criminals use seduction as a weapon before, but this—this was different. Y/N wasn’t just trying to get inside his head. She was already there.

“I could make this easy for both of us,” she whispered, her voice dripping with promise. “Let me go, and I’ll make sure you get what you want.”

Sunoo exhaled sharply. “And how do I know you won’t run straight back to your father?”

She smiled, slow and dangerous. “Because, Agent Kim, I like playing games. And you? You’re the most interesting piece on the board.”

For the first time in his career, Sunoo hesitated.

And Y/N Sim knew she had won.

all rights to this work belongs to me @ditsycafe.

[blackjackkent]

Thus ends Rakha's story, which I am deeply gratified to realize has ended very softly and positively. To quote Charles Dickens:

It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.

As the night begins to fade down into quiet, she finds Withers paging slowly through a book in the ruins near the clearing. He gives her a slow sideways look.

"This one night," he says gravely, "is like any other... and yet... different." He closes the book deliberately and sets it down, turning to face her.

"Thou art the savior of Baldur's Gate... until such time as it requires saving again. How dost thou feel?"

Rakha draws a long breath slowly and then lets it out. The answer still feels strange to say aloud, as strange as the life that she is living, quiet and steady, day in and day out.

"I'm proud," she says quietly. "You gave me a new life, another chance. I did my best with it."

Withers makes a soft humming noise that is almost but not quite a laugh. "I am pleased to hear it," he murmurs. "The satisfaction of one's intention is, to my surprise, a rare accomplishment." He gestures with one skeletal hand back towards the door behind her. "Enjoy the revelry of the day. Thou deservest at least that much."

Rakha hesitates. The night is winding down and she has little left to say, her energy fading, the desire rising to retreat into solitude. But she has been to few enough parties that she is unsure of the steps. "I think I've caught up with everyone," she says slowly. "What comes next?"

Withers' lips curl in a slight smile. "What indeed," he says, and moves past her out into the open air. "Prick up thy ears and listen."

-----

He gathers them all out in the center of the clearing, next to the long spread of food not yet eaten.

"Hear me!" he calls, his voice resonating through the night air. "Thou heros, wastrels... friends. I have waited long to tell you these words."

"it is over... for now." A flicker of amusement touches his desiccated features. "Thou played thy part in weaving the fabric of fate itself. But for every thread you sewed, so did the gods unravel another. Sleep, rest, revel - for thou mayest yet be needed."

Rakha listens quietly to the speech. Perhaps he speaks the truth - but she hopes not. She is done with her adventures, and it would take the world ending again to convince her otherwise.

But she suspects this part of the speech is not fully meant for her, as he turns next and focuses his eyes on her as he speaks again.

"Until we meet again," he says gravely, "I wish thee every possible fortune. Health. Wealth. Love. And above all... problems worth solving."

Rakha considers this, then slowly raises her glass with a quiet smile. To that, she will happily drink. All of the short life she remembers, she has wanted nothing more than this. To find answers to her questions, to see the light of the Weave on her skin, and to see the work that needs doing and do it.

Attack with purpose, she told herself, when attacking was all that she knew how to do. But there is more now, more to life than that.

There are problems worth solving ahead of her, because of the people here and the help they have given her in climbing out of the dark and shedding the brutal fate she was born to.

"To all of you," she says abruptly, looking around, meeting each pair of eyes one by one. "My real family."

Each glass lifts in her direction in answer, including Withers'; he meets her gaze last of all and raises his goblet like a salute.

"To you," he says.

[humanelemental]

Different anon, but yes to everything you've said! I'm still so disappointed we got absolutely nothing in the flashback. Like not confirming Rio as the other parent and not getting to at least see the happier times between them (this could have easily been a quick montage). I think this is where 95% of my issues with the Agathario storyline fall. Without Kathryn and Aubrey's incredible chemistry, this pairing would have fallen completely flat. And no comment on Billy lol Such a bland character.

This got away from me so I’m tucking it under the cut.

Yes! That’s why Jac saying all of this post show high key pisses me off! Because from where were we supposed to draw these conclusions that she supposedly wanted to be very obvious. Surely it wasn’t the script. Surely it wasn’t the cut content. Surely it wasn’t how the character’s are written with each other.

For God’s sake, Agatha says Rio’s name one time and it’s not even to her. I was starting to wonder if she even knew her by that name. There’s no terms of endearment, not even angry name calling. She never addresses her at all. And to me that’s such a frustrating detail! Like this is your ex wife? Agatha has a pet name for everyone, good or ill. But nothing for Rio?

Like we had that scene in episode four, which to this day will go down as the most longing I’ve ever scene. And not even a whisper of baby? Sweetheart? Honey? Like Agatha was locked in and fucking cradling the mother of her child and nothing? Same with episode 8. Rio pushes Agatha to the point that after their meeting she crashes out on the road and we don’t even get a “thats enough Rio!” They’re talking about Rio taking their dead son’s soul and we get no reference to this not just being an ex or a former friend but her fucking wife??? Not even a, “you killed our SON!!!” Which wouldn’t have been accurate but it would have fit with what is clearly Agatha’s narrative.

Also also, if we’re crashing out anyway and I’m telling the love of my very long life that she only brings me pain and I never want to see her again? I’m absolutely throwing it in her face that she left me with our son’s cold dead corpse to bury alone with my bare hands in the fucking woods. And, I hate to say it, I think Agatha might be pettier than me. So there’s no way she’s letting that shit go. You cannot convince me that this show wasn’t just being written off the cuff. There are too many moments that just fall flat in really weird ways for this to have been the vision from the beginning.

Also^3 what the fuck was with them giving us no information about the Darkhold, how Agatha got it for real, when she got it, why ect. I mean we can assume, God I’m tired of that, that she was trying to bring Nicky back based on how she acted with Wanda. But beyond that, we have no information on this very pivotal part of her history. And it kept getting brought up, so I hoped we would see something on it.

I completely agree that Kathryn and Aubrey, and the other talented actors and actresses, carried this show in spite of the script. So much of both of their characters come from their physical acting it’s insane. Like can you imagine how bland Rio would be if it wasn’t Aubrey’s adorably unhinged self playing her? Girl said she was eating flowers on set. Like ma’am that’s in zero shots of the final show. She was just out there literally chewing on the scenery. And Kathryn can say more with an expression than most soliloquies. Plus she so consistent with how she physically plays Agatha it’s nuts. Like yes on set for AAA is understandable, but she brought the same mannerisms from WV. Like the finger thing she always does. It’s so crazy impressive.

As a final note, I really liked teen when he was a kind of goofy/sarcastic sidekick that kind of gave off the same vaguely unhinged vibes that Agatha and Rio give. Like the parts where he’s helping blackmail Jen only to turn around an hour later and offer her stale party favors? Peak Teen for me. Also I want to clarify I mean no hate whatsoever to Joe Locke. He’s brilliant and has a wonderful future as an actor ahead of him. I just hated that we lost half the show to him.