#eh well at least i can draw her

[piiinkfreak]

DRACULAURA MY BELOVED

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[idiaa-shroxd]

Unfortunately I don't play Genshin anymore due to storage problems BUT IM ALSO A WANDERER MAIN LMAO AND OMFG THANK YOY VERY MUCH FOR THE COMPLIMENT COMING FROM SOMEONE WHO'S ONE OF MY FAV AUTHORS AND YES FARUZAN SUPREMACY AAAAAAAAAAA ILY SM<333

I'm literally going crazy bc you replied to my crazed fan ask HAHAHAHAHA

\(//∇//)\ i am definitely not responding late!! i perceive time like a normal human would.. and that’s so crazy!! ♡

i have loved wanderer since maybe my first time hearing his existence?? i’m not a day-one-er but quite close! so glad he did not get signora’d. if you play on mobile you can try deleting the app and redownloading because the clear old files option doesn’t actually clear everything, and sometimes a redownload may be able to fit within your storage! i absolutely adore faruzan though!! peak character design even if she is genshin’s hatsune miku, not complaining though i think her glass looking dress-skirt is amazing. (*´∀`)♪

i’m happy to be able to talk and respond to people!! getting asks just talking to me or people sending things like how they think my writing style is pretty makes me super happy!! so i’m equally as fanboy-ing when you and others talk to me!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯

[rekino2114]

Gifting the chainsaw man girls a plushie of themselves

A/n: I'm still on vacation and wanted to do a smaller post while i'm free so i saw this prompt around and thought it was adorable, I'll probably do it with more fandoms let me know if you wanna see it

Makima

Thinks it's amazing and will treasure it forever, she specific keeps it on a shelf in her office (most of her subordinates are very confused to see it just sitting there around the paperwork)

She will 100% give you a plushie of yourself to repay you

Might ask you for a pochita plushie to replace the real one since she doesn't want it anymore.

"Oh, It's adorable darling you're so talented, how about I make you one of yourself to match?"

Power

She is confused at first and asks what power (lol) you used to make a mini her but quickly grows to love it.

It's soft and cuddly just like meowy whenever you're not near her you can bet she'll be cuddling those two things to fall asleep.

Definitely brags about it to denji and aki. Where are their small and fluffy versions of them uh?

"*gasp* is that an idol of the great power? Very well I will accept this. T-thank you"

Himeno

Thinks it's the cutest thing ever and immediately hugs you and peppers you In kisses as thanks

Will always keep it on her shoulder or in view in general hoping that someone asks her about it so she can start ranting about how wonderful her partner is

You have found her multiple times passed out drunk hugging the plushie and mumbling about how much she loves you

"Oh my God! Is that me? Thanks so much it's soooo cute, well not as cute as the original of course~"

Kobeni higashiyama

An incredibly blushy mess whenever you give her the plushie but thinks it's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for her.

It kinda becomes a comforter for her. Whenever she's more nervous or sad than usual, she hugs the plushie and thinks of you, and it makes her feel at least a bit better

She feels kinda bad about not giving you anything back so she'll probably save the small amount of money she has to buy you a plushie you like.

"O-oh, that's really cute. w-wait, is that m-me? I love it a lot. Thank you so so much"

Quanxi (and her harem)

You immediately got tackled in a hug by 4 of your girlfriends when you showed them plushies of every one of them, quanxi just looked at hers for a while before smiling and joining the group hug

Might genuinely stab someone if they say anything remotely negative about the plushie

She works hard with her girlfriends to make you a plushie of yourself since they thought it wasn't fair that you were the only one in the relationship without one.

"Eh, it really does look like me, you did an amazing job on the girls too, don't worry I'll keep it close at all times"

Asa mitaka

Genuinely can't fathom that you would put effort into making something so cute of her out of everyone and the fact that you gifted her that makes her fall in love with you even more

Always keeps it with her mostly in her bag at school, similarly to kobeni it helps calm her down whenever she's having a bad day, it's a reminder that there is someone willing to love her this much

Yoru once tried to draw the scars on it to make it a plushie of her (just to mess with asa) but thankfully she took control in time

"Wait, seriously? That's....for me? Wow, i- I don't know what to say. Just thank you so much"

Yoru

Acts like she doesn't care that much but actually thinks it's really cute, asa often wakes up finding herself hugging it, courtesy of yoru not being able to sleep without it and taking over during the night.

Definitely brags to asa about it (not realizing it's technically a plushie of both of them)

Might ask you to add some weapons to the plushie to make it more interesting

"Hm? What's that? a plushie? I guess it does kinda resemble me, thanks it is kinda nice"

Fami

She might seem as indifferent as usual but genuinely loves the gesture and thinks it's adorable

She brings it with her whenever she eats (which is most of the time) she even puts a little bib on it, it's really cute to watch

Feels really bad when she gets it dirty (mostly when she's eating) so she'll try cleaning it even if she has no idea how

"I see, so it's a plushie of me. How cute. Thank you, you did a great job"

[valentine-cafe]

[Enderman teleporting into your house noise]

Henlo, I have a concept; pinning Rishen to a wall while they're still in their hero garb and tying his wrists with her own silk. Sweet thing has to keep their noises down, otherwise some concerned citizen might come over and see Scarlet Solstice getting ravished by another hero/villain/civillian!

-🍂

˖⁺. “ moans of a hero ! ” : 

﹙ top villain gn reader x bttm hybrid hero oc ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 781 rishen x gn reader !! 🍒 : ﹙ hero ˖  moth - spider - mantis hybrid character ﹚

you catch elritea'smost beloved hero in a trap of his own silk. what more can he do but moan while you finger him against a building top? 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ fingering ˖ public-sex ( no one gets caught ) ˖ handjob ˖ degradation ˖ villain x hero ˖ edging | wc : 1.0k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: 🍂 anon you are gonna be our resident rishen-topper enthusiast come and take your badge !!

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

“You're tighter than I remember. . .”

Elritea City in the dead of night. Its vehicles still whirl their eco-friendly engines through the air. The flash of lights in combinations of reds and oranges compliment maroon fabric pinned to the wall.

No noise nor shine could compare to the song of shudders and pleasures sighs. The shimmer of tears you can envision pricking along the corners of his eyes. That pesky helmet that emulates that of a biker. As much as you adore it, you wish to pry it off of his head for daring to hide his expressions twisted with pleasure.

Your anger dishes out on his gummy walls instead. Your fingers pointedly piston rapidly. If only to curl into that one spot you have familiarised yourself with ten times and over.

Oh, you fantasise about the way his pretty maroon eyes would cross. Put the world on a standstill if they so much as caught a glimpse. At least your world did.

Alas, your beloved hero has an identity. And while you are all about making his life difficult — the fondness you have gathered for him over the past few months outweighs your darkest desires.

“Mnn,” his whine makes your head dizzy. You return the favour with firm strokes along that bundle of nerves. With your body flushed against him, you can practically feel the shivers that rake through him. A surge of pride rises within you.

Here he is, shivering in the middle of summer.

“No one satisfying this pretty hole when I’m not around?” Your voice to his ear fans your breath along his helmet. The fog along the screen soon eases to his wrists as you lean up to press your lips at the centre. Right above his silk you so readily tied him up with.

You punctuate with another firm thrust of your fingers. A third joins the mix to throw him into the thralls of pleasure. His moan sends your laugh into the crevice between his neck and shoulder. You latch on without care — just the way that you know the little hybrid fansies. What, with the way that his hips roll up against yours, you can think nothing less.

The pads of your fingers massage along the creases and crevices you know so well. Oh his whimpers are a sin to the night. The strain of his static voice, a result of the tech-changer, brings a grin to your lips. Your free hand reaches down to grind a palm on the evident bulge that forms in the nanite-powered fabric of his suit.

“P-P - hah ngh - c-can’t -”

All the poor hero can do is hiccup as your strength shoves him back into the wall. The wind carries his heated, muffled moans as your hands work him to creaming his pristine scarlet suit. It earns a low whistle followed with an arch of your brow.

“What kind of hero are you eh? Cummin’ in your pants for Elritea’s most wanted.” Your tongue runs over the top row of your teeth. Eyes glint in the red city lights and widen as a whiney pant into his helmet’s command-center sends a signal through his suit. The fabric around his crotch draws back with a scatter of digital traces. His soft, bronze thighs shine in the drizzle of a summer’s night. What a prize for your hand to eagerly squeeze at.

“And just as desperate. . . pretty slut.”

His reward comes with your knuckles against his clenched rim. Fingers messily pump in and out of his quivering ass. All while your free hand swirls a thumb to nurse the throb at his tip. You stroke slowly, vertically along the slit and worry your lip with an excitable bite as the spurt of precum that trickles to join the slick he squirted but a moment ago.

Another fervent command sounds into the helmet. This time with the pesky mark in question as the target. Once more the nanites dissipate into a mix of oranges and red sparks around his lower face. Drawn back to reveal his swollen lips parted in the slightest. Panting. Moaning. So eager to press into yours and pour the rest into your mouth as his hips steadily rock up into your pleasing hands.

What a whore indeed, your hero is. He should be knocking you halfway across the district by now. Instead he is here. Eyes rolled back and your fingers knocking against his sweet spot repeatedly. In a cruel rhythm that mimics the hum of the city and the thrum of the rain.

“What a loyal boy,” you croon against his lips, still eager for the taste of your kisses. All you give to him is a kiss to the corner, before your teeth latch onto corner of his jaw.

Your palm encases his tip. Squeezing, pulsating. He stains it in no time with a whining moan and his head hung back against the wall.

“Told you to keep quiet.” Is all you manage to hiss as your cum-stained hand smacks over his lips in a matter of seconds. The hand that had been too busy wrecking his tight hole now takes a break from its sworn duty to instead pull him along. Shuffle him out of sight.

As fun as it is to risk the flash of a camera and a juicy media headline; his whines are for your ears only. His body belongs to yours hands. You’ve had your fun in the rain. Time to yank him over to your lair and give him a night to remember. Again.

With the way his dick’s pulsing? You might as well ride him while he’s tied to that damned interrogation chair.

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[gallapiech]

Some more art I've done for Highway of Hedonism!

[READ IT HERE]

+ once again some behind the scenes stuff 😁

The kiss sketch is pretty self explanatory lol, I dont know how to draw people kissing so I hope it came out alright at least hihi.

For the bathroom one I initially went with a completely different angle! But I felt like that didn't really convey the scene well so I settled on this one instead. :3

The straddle scene... This chapter was initially gonna have 2 drawings, one with the bear in the backseat and the one you're seeing here. We figured it would save some time since we could reuse the scene and only had to switch the characters around. But that made it kind of boring... So we settled with a more interesting perspective! A million thanks to Rory for making the initial sketch for it ♥ Although I cannot show that one, I *can* show the rough sketch of the final drawing!

I think it's kind of obvious that I winged it with the car stuff. I hope it doesn't break the immersion too much </3

Sometimes I forget exactly what outfit they're wearing and mess it up lol. Thank god for Rory for correcting me whenever I show the sketch. Here's Ian without the hoodie, ehe.

As we were planning the art for some of the chapters, we kind of wanted some to be close ups of things or things that are easier to draw to kind of lighten the workload. This being one of them, but I still like it! I loved adding little easter eggs to the little doodles that made. There are some references to friends & inside jokes. This drawing doesn't just show Ian & Mickey's journey, but ours as well :)

The sketch for the scene where Mickey grabs ian's waist was actually sketched by Rory! She has helped me sooo much with the art and I truly cannot thank her enough for it. Because I didn't create the sketch I cannot show it. However I kind of got a funny story. While I was drawing this some friends and I were watching Pitch Perfect and I was streaming it. But I had to open the sketch so I could copy it and Accidentally showed it on stream and I panicked so hard hahahaha. Soooo if some of y'all remember seeing it 👀 now u know what it was for, lol.

That's all for now :D I hope you're all as excited about the upcoming chapters as I am!!

[gearsandhammers]

HOMECOMING? : JAYCE X VIKTOR X M!READER

jayce and viktor are in love. like, a lot. and it’s getting obnoxious, really. they’ll be messing around as you try to go to sleep. you were crushing on both of them for the longest time, but now they were together, and you couldn’t have either of them. right?

hiya! everyone’s happy in this au and no deaths, so that’s why jinx is powder! yes, everyone is healthy and well, including vander, silco, mylo, calggor, heimer, isha, even felicia, and others! in this au, viktor is  healthy! all he’s got is really bad tendonitis, which is why he still uses a cane. also, like i said in my other jayce fic, i don’t speak spanish fluently, so most things in spanish are from google translate. anyways, have a great read and day/night!

──────────────────────────────

Everyone knows Jayce and Viktor are together. How did that happen? No one really knows. Piltover Academy and Zaun University are the two biggest rival schools around. Both you and Viktor are transfer students from Zaun Uni, and you were roomed together, obviously. Somehow, Jayce found a natural pull on Viktor, and before long, they started dating. 

It was kind of tiring, always being the third wheel. You’re Viktor’s best friend, and so you’re always around. But then, suddenly, Jayce was there too. You were studying and Viktor came home? Jayce was right behind him. Did you go to a café to relax and draw with him? Jayce pulls up a third seat. It was sort of infuriating, you felt like you were losing your best friend to some random Piltie. 

To be honest, you had always had a crush on Viktor, but you never acted on it, scared you would lose your best friend. But turns out, you’re already losing him, slowly but surely. At least that’s what you think. And Jayce, oh, Jayce. He looked so good. Viktor had dragged you to a few of his games, against your free will. However, he did (kind of) look good, all sweaty like that. And him in his varsity jacket after games when his clothes would stick to his skin? Gods, you can’t think that. You’re not supposed to think any of this. They’re both taken, you can’t have them, no matter how much you daydream about it. 

With homecoming right around the corner, everyone was asking each other out left and right. Vi had somehow been able to sneak into Caitlyn’s room and surprise her with flowers. Ekko texted you, apparently, Powder had done a whole big show with glitter bombs and everything to ask him out. Mylo, surprisingly, didn’t make a huge deal about asking Claggor out. But apparently, it was kinda cringey according to Powder. Mel had even gotten some expensive chocolates to ask Elora. You didn’t expect anything to happen, and you had originally planned to just stay in that night. However, Jayce and Viktor had other plans. 

───── ⋆⋅✉︎⋅⋆ ─────

You’re lying in bed, the window open to the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. You’re doomscrolling on your phone when you hear the faint sounds of footsteps. You pause the vido you’re watching and sit up. You can hear Viktor and Jayce’s voice follows close behind. You groan, flopping back onto your bed. As the door knob jingles and the door creaks open, they both come in, still talking as you grab your headphones and laptop, deciding to try to get some work done. 

You blast your music through your headphones and don’t notice when Viktor is practically yelling your name to get your attention. You don’t realize even he’s talking to you until he sits down on your bed next to you, and you pull one side of your headphones off.

“Hey, V. Did you need something?” 

“Wow, welcome back to the land of the living, dude.” Jayce laughs, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Yes, eh… Jayce and I have been meaning to talk to you about something.” Viktor says, and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Can you take your headphones off? You pull your headphones off, looing in between him and Jayce, searching their faces for any clue to what it is, but Jayce interrupts your thoughts. 

“You’re in love.” Jayce blurts out, and you almost choke on your own saliva. Your whole face immediately turns bright red, and you try to cover your face, only for Viktor to move your hands out of the way. 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stutter as you shut your laptop. Jayce sits down on your other side, and suddenly you’re trapped. Your whole body feels warm, and your head is swimming. You pull your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs.

“Yes, you do. We’ve talked to Mel, you know. All that psychology stuff actually works, you know. But even without her, we can tell. You blush any time I touch you, and you don’t even try to hide it with Vik,” Jayce says. 

“So, are you just gonna make fun of me? If you are, you don’t need to, I’m already at war with myself,” you mumble, and Viktor cups your face, making you look at him. His touch is electric, and you feel like you’re going to pass out if he gets any closer. 

“Krásný, look at me. We’re not going to make fun of you. Quite the opposite, really. Jayce and I… we have talked about you.” You look up at him, slightly afraid of what he’s going to say. He rarely ever calls you krásný anymore. What is happening? Jayce takes your laptop off of your lap and replaces it with his hand. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna pass out.

“Cariño, will you go to homecoming with us? Nos encantaría llevarte.” As the words flow from Jayce’s mouth, you swear your heart stops for a second. What? What? WHAT? That is literally the last thing you thought he was going to say. Also, CARIÑO? Oh gods, they’ve won your heart. You’ve heard Jayce speak in Spanish to his mom, but by Janna does it feel different when he speaks to you. When Viktor speaks in Czech, you melt. And now Jayce is talking to you in Spanish? You stare, but at what, you have no idea. Your mind has just gone blank, and you have no idea how to respond.

“Wh- what?” Your voice cracks, and you clear your throat. Your head swivels back and forth between them, and there’s a part of you that fully expects this to be a joke. “Are you joking? I mean, what? Is that… like, something you can do?” 

“Of course it is. Who says we can’t? If we all love each other, then why not?” Viktor explains. It’s then that you realize that you’ve stopped breathing, and you shake your head, releasing your chin from Viktor’s grasp, and take a few deep breaths. 

“Is… is that a no?” Jayce asks, his tone hesitant and… scared? They both search your face for any indicator of refusal. 

“No! I mean, no, I-I’d love to. I’m just… in shock, I guess?” You lift your hands from your legs, your hands shaking. You wring them together, trying to stop them from quivering. “I… I’d love to. I’d love to go to homecoming with you two,” you smile, although your bottom lip trembles ever so slightly.

“Really? Oh my gods, thank you!” Viktor grabs your face, pressing soft kisses around your face. Jayce’s fingers intertwine with yours, and you swear your brain short circuits. 

“It’s going to be the best night of your life, we promise.”

──────────────────────────────

© — @gearsandhammers 2025 - created and written by kaisen - do not steal my work or repost without my permission.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hlo🩷 Can I have a obey me scenario of the 7 brothers (seperately) finding out that MC knows pole dancing and just discovered it when they entered her room without knocking and saw a literal pole with her spinning on it.

Lucifer

He knew he should have knocked, but the matter on which he had to speak with [Y/N] on was urgent. So, Lucifer thought that, just for this one time, it would be acceptable.

Opening the door and seeing them there, spinning around on a pole he was quite sure had not been there some months ago, he was taken aback to say the least. Lucifer didn’t know humans could be so graceful. “My apologies,” he said at first, “I did not mean to interrupt your…workout, but I needed to talk to you about something important. If you could…come down.”

Mammon

Being the Avatar of Greed, Mammon had been in some of the best clubs in the world. Several of them included dancers. Beautiful aerial sirens who were there to distract the customers, so they wouldn’t focus on their bets, and make their pockets that much easier to pick. Never him though, Mammon was always focused on his money, but he had seen it all.

Yet when he saw [Y/N], spinning in the air, he understood finally why they were such a draw.

“W-Where did you get that?? Why are you spinning on a pole?? You’re not thinking of working down at one of the clubs are you?! I won’t allow it!”

Levi

Levi had been so excited when he found the new Easter Egg in his game, that he had to show [Y/N] right away!

He figured it would be ok for him not to knock this one time. This was very important after all. When he opened the door and found [Y/N] inverted on a pole, his face immediately went red and he had to cover his nose. “W-W-Wh! What are you doing?!”

He’d seen moves like this before, in some of his animes and a few games as well, but never in person. Seeing [Y/N] doing them, in person, put a whole new perspective on it. One that made him think of pole dancing cosplays, and spinning maid-kuns in his room….

Satan

Finally! He had figured it out!

After combing his latest series for months. Reviewing every note he had ever taken on each book. Then finally coming to the conclusion earlier that afternoon, Satan had finally figured it out! He knew who the murder in their murder mystery series was and he had to tell [Y/N]!

Rushing to their room with unprecedented enthusiasm, Satan flung open the door with equally unprecedented glee. “[Y/N]! I have it! I finally figured it….” His voice and enthusiasm trailed off as he saw them on a pole in their room. Stopping mid spin but clearly in the middle of a routine. “I uh….I’ll come back later….” He then quietly apologized and slowly closed the door.

Asmo

“[Y/N]-chan~! The new issue of Devil Style just arrived! I thought we could look at the new jacket lines and take this cute couples quiz….” Asmo trailed off as he looked up from the pages to see [Y/N].

Clearly, he had caught them in the middle of something. Namely practicing their pole moves on the newly installed polished chrome in their room.

“You got a pole in here!” Asmo gushed. Completely abandoning the magazine on the floor to rush over and touch the silver. “Oh wow! Who knew you had it in you? Are you practicing for anyone special, eh? Need an audience to provide critiques? Or maybe show you a few moves ♡?” The demon giggled as he was already climbing on the pole as well. Ready to play.

Beel

He knows he should have knocked. Usually, Beel wouldn’t even consider going into someone else’s room without knocking, but he was so focused on the new parfait treat at Madam Scream’s that all his brain power was focused on that. ‘Parfait. Parfair. [Y/N]. Parfait’

Beel had planed to invite them to come with him, always a good sport for trying new things, and was surprised to see them on a pole when he came into the room. “Whoa. What’s that?”

As [Y/N] slid down, Beel came to inspect it. “Hey. I’ve heard of these actually. They’re for like pole-robics aren’t they?” In his quest for new workouts in his evolving fitness plan, Beel had come across the term but never seen it in practice. Innocent enough to think that’s the only thing it was used for. “I beat this is a great core work out. Can I try sometime? Do you think it would hold me? Hmmm…maybe I’ll need to order a heavier duty one so we can workout together…?”

Belphie

Belphie had a bad habit of sleepwalking. Or, more to the point, half-sleep-half-walking in most cases.

He had woken up from one of his mid-afternoon naps to go find [Y/N] and finish his nap in their room. Not recharged enough to want to socialize, but wanting to be around them.

As usual, he didn’t bother knocking on the door. Belphie just letting himself in and seeing [Y/N] there. Spinning around on a pole in the middle of the room. Not the oddest thing he had dream of; as he assumed he had to be dreaming.

Saying nothing, Belphie just walked over to their bed and laid himself down. When he woke up, and the pole was still there, he just said, “wow….dream come true.”

[manszen]

long distance situationship

pairing. fem!reader x vinsmoke sanji.

summary. you yearn for a certain blond pirate to come back home to baratie.

contains. fluffy angst, comfort at the end, whole cake island spoilers, told from the reader’s pov.

word count. 1.1k.

note. i really adore sanji and zeff's familial bond.

the loud commotion from your workmates inside the cramped kitchen of baratie draws you away from your dish plating.

“it’s here!”

“let me see! let me see!”

“how much is it this time?”

“i bet he tried his best to look cool. he looks like an idiot with the last one,” patty who’s next to you whispers down on your ear. he wipes his hand with a kitchen towel, a fond smile on his lips.

you laugh quietly at him.

“eh? what’s this?!”

you lift your head, a tad surprised. carne’s shrieks sound too shell-shocked for someone who claims over and over again that he doesn’t care at all about sanji.

“the bastard is a vinsmoke?!”

at that exact moment, zeff enters the room. his wooden leg clicking against the kitchen floor, effectively silencing the gasps of surprise of his workers.

“figures,” he quips after gaining everybody’s attention. “what’s the boy’s bounty now?”

“it’s 330 million berries,” carne announces, raising sanji’s wanted poster up in the air. his other hand grasping the rest of the newspaper. “they still used his old photo, though.”

“that perverted face of his again?”

you let out a small giggle and everybody turns their heads to you. as if with one accord, they all smile knowingly. even zeff, the baratie’s owner, appears thoughtful.

the kitchen suddenly feels warmer than usual.

“his photo isn’t so bad,” you mumble, trying to brush off their teasing looks.

“says the girl who collects his wanted posters before owner zeff can,” patty chimes in. you have this crazy urge to scream at him for exposing you like this until carne clears his throat, reading the newspaper article out loud.

“it says: ‘the vinsmoke and charlotte families entered into a political alliance via marriage between the third vinsmoke son, sanji, and the 35th charlotte daughter, pudding’.”

oh.

patty, zeff, as well as the others, wince when they hear carne’s announcement. you’re grateful they don’t say anything more about the matter, but you don’t give them time to say something anyway, since you’re already turning your back and resuming your work.

“say no more,” you hear zeff say to carne. “i believe sanji wouldn’t marry someone so easily. at least, without my approval.”

something heavy lodges in your throat right then. you mutter a cryptic excuse, weaving your way outside the kitchen doors and rushing to the safety of the girl’s restroom before anyone else can grab a hold of you.

anyone who works in baratie knows about your little infatuation. they’re not against it, but they’re not extremely supportive of it either. it’s just… it’s sanji that you’re head over heels with.

sanji who plays it cool and thinks before he acts.

sanji who deeply cares for almost everyone in baratie.

sanji who respects food more than anything else.

sanji whose only fault is that he’s borderline crazy when it comes to women.

you know exactly how crazy and submissive he is with women.

you aren’t an exception to that rule either. he proved that to you one late night as you both wash the rest of dishes after closing baratie.

he said a lady shouldn’t soak her hands in dishwashing soap for a long time, that you should let him do the rest. to which you only bumped his shoulder, joking that if he treats you the same way he treats his female customers, you’d feel somewhat special.

and his response?

‘you are special. and to me, you’re extra special.’

it might seem normal for him to compliment a woman, but you, on the other hand, are not used to it. growing up with nothing but irresponsible men around you, it’s only tough love that you’ve ever known.

that’s when you start to see sanji in a different light, with the intention to suppress it for as long as you could simply because you’re terrified of your own feelings.

you’re terrified of your feelings not being reciprocated.

although somehow, it has become an unspoken deal between you and sanji.

you start to seek each other’s company when your designated rooms feel too cold and lonely at night. you start to catch each other’s eyes during work hours, over tens of long kitchen counters, and smile shyly as you avert your gazes. you even start becoming touchy, leaning your body against him when he wants you to try some of his cooking, and while he’s shaking with exhilaration, he doesn’t make a huge scene out of it in hopes you two won’t be found out by zeff.

you start to get this fuzzy feeling the two of you are finally onto something.

but, as fate would have it, sanji got recruited by a man named luffy, claiming that he needs the best cook out there if he’s going to be the king of pirates.

and who are you to hold sanji back?

you kept your mouth shut as he told you his final decision, tucking away your own selfish desire to not let him go. you patted his shoulder, bravely smiling that he should follow his heart and see where it takes him. and he gave you one of his boyish grins, whispering thank you for being so understanding.

you promised yourself back then that you wouldn’t be the very reason who would break that smile.

you close your eyes and lean back against the restroom door, reminding yourself that he's still in the process of chasing after his dream — his childhood dream. after all that, he will be back in baratie in no time.

you just didn’t think you would find his name on the news with the word ‘marriage’ attached to it, that’s all.

a gentle rap at the door knocks you back to your senses.

“there are customers waiting to be served,” comes zeff’s soft warning. “forget that shitty kid. you deserve better.”

you snort. even if he says those harsh words at sanji, it’s still laced with fatherly affection. the impression brings a soft smile to your face.

“hey, owner zeff,” you begin. it seems that speaking with a thick door in between you and your employer helps. “do you think… do you think he’ll come back?”

“hmp. do you really think he won’t? the boy might be stupid but he’s not stupid enough to forget where his heart is.”

his words make you feel a hundred times lighter. “so baratie is where his heart is?”

the silence stretches on from the other side of the door you’d think zeff has already walked away. until he says with a warm voice, “you are where that boy’s heart is.”

stealing, modifying, translating, or reposting this work on other platforms is strictly discouraged.

[syscardinal]

hihi!! i love your art sm !!

im curious on how you draw your chibis? they are so squishy and theyre like mochis and blueberry muffins (in the best way o m gee) !!

like hows the anatomy/posing work for you? tips would be super super helpful wow

Hi! First of all, thank you! This is a hard one cuz I dont usually draw chibis ehe, but I will try to aid you with the few knowlegment I got. As you can see, I have a lot of styles when it comes to draw cheebs but I think i can resume it in one word: SIMPLIFY

For example, here's a drawing of Gaming I did. Let's dig into it!!

First I tried to replicate the same pose Gaming has in his official art, notice that this not have to follow exactly the same guidelines. "Why?" Well because when drawing a chibi, theres some limitations since the body shrunkens, there is a variety on how cheeb anatomy works but I'll get to that point later-

Forget about detailing too much, like putting in the cheeb every wrinkle of the clothes, every strand of hair or every little costure. With this I am not saying that you have to get rid of ,for example, Furina's decorations in her hat, instead you can simplify them!! If you consider that detail important enough just draw it! (See the image for a example on how I do it)

Negative Space oh man my art teacher used to talk about this a lot and in chibis this is SUPER relevant. A good negative space always leads to clarity, and since cheebs are a really little thing,what we want is exactly that, clarity. Try to make a clear silloutte of what you are trying to convey in the chibi, this will make it look 10 times better for starters.

Lastly, dont forget that cheebs follow the same rules as a normal drawing(like line of action, perspective, etc) In case of cheebs though is usual for the heads, eyes and mouth to be bigger, I'll explain in more detail this below!

Here's the speedpaint for more detail:

Lets go now with Anatomy and Proportions, as I was saying above, there is a lot of variety in cheebs anatomy. I dont think there is a wrong or correct way to draw a chibi here, there is just a lot of ways to draw them altough usually it follows these points:

Chibis are no more than 3 heads in height, after that it just stops feeling like a chibi drawing.

Eyes tends to be bigger, generaly eyes occupies 1/3 of the head. In my case I like to make the ears also just as big as the eyes with the shape of a bean or simply a circle. Moving to the mouth, I draw a simple shape of a triangle, just including the teeths when they smile.

Depending on the proportions you choose, it will give you different results, here you have to choose what you want for your chibi, for example: A proportion of the size of 2 heads + It gives you the liberty of draw more details and complex poses. On the other side a proportion of 1 head or less makes the chibi simpler but at the same time more cute to look at(see my examples at the end of this post!)

Last but not least, use this chart just as a reference, you can draw the bodies roundier, taller, tinier. Its up to your liking!!

Hope that this was not too overwhelming haha, I am not an expert on drawing cheebs but they are fun to try! I tried to summarize my own knowledge and mixed it with some google search(ehe)

Please dont hesitate to try as much as you want, there is a lot of ways to draw the tiny ones and none of them is incorrect. Hope this helps you and thanks for reading!!!

Here are the examples I mentioned above!!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I’m falling out of obsession love with konig..will you do me the favor and respark my love for him i need an obsessed in love man to match 😓

Word count: 1.9 k

Summary: He comes to see you after a mission.

CW: Mild smut, angst, fluff, emotions. +18 only

A/N: This is part of the Just Friends universe, but pov is 2nd person (you instead of she/her). I'm not sure if this is what you asked for anon...but it's what you're going to get 🥹 

Rain drums your window. You've left it open a crack, and should get up and close it, but you don't have the strength. You can't sleep, you can't get up: it's the wolf's hour and the mood is heavy like the rain clouds that have circled the base for hours now.

It's the first time you hear him breaking in. Well, technically speaking, he's not breaking in anymore, now that he has a key. But it always feels like he comes to see you when you least expect it.

The five-day mission has turned into a four-day and half a night mission, then.

You feign sleep and listen how he takes off his boots. He's illegally quiet without them for such a big man. His shirt meets the floor, then he opens his belt – you know he's about to come and ravish you, and for the first time since forever you are not up for it.

The bed lets out a terrible creak of a wail as he crawls next to you. You fear it's only a question of time before the old metal and wood give in under you two. It's basically a miracle the sturdy bunk hasn't yet broken into pieces from your love.

His length touches you first as he settles behind you. It's hot and hard, lean and sleek, like the rest of the man that soon surrounds you like a copper cable with a pulse. His hand is warm as it slips under the covers and under your shirt. Or actually, his shirt.

"I'm home," he half whispers the obvious. Calls your room his home… Or perhaps it's just you. You're his home now.

The hand drifts to your hip, and it's possessive: he always starts there. You win nothing by pretending to be the sleeping beauty, so your hand comes to rest on top of his.

"Did you have fun..?"

It's a bit of a sick question. But it is what it is. And what's more, he doesn't even answer it.

"I need a fresh pair, Engel," he says with an odd honey to his voice.  "The last one is completely ruined."

You know he's talking about another pair of panties, a comfort object and a lucky charm he takes with him now that he's back in the field again.

The rain taps the window, and the darkness of the room is only pierced by distant hues of blue. The base is never dark, never fully asleep. His hand drags the shirt up, then stops on your ribs.

"You have my shirt on."

It's not a scolding, not at all. It's only a happy, shocked surprise.

"You… You left it here," you turn a little to look at him. You can see his lashes from the darkness of the hood as they drop: he's looking at you with tenderness, although the demanding flesh against the small of your back is far from tender. 

"Mm. You have my shirt and I got your panties... A good deal, eh?"

His hand wanders further under the shirt, cups a handful of your breast. You can feel the cords of muscle bunching against you: abs that contract, thighs that press and lift yours, his cock that gives a taut pull between you two.

Your nipple is caught between hard fingertips, as he twists it like a volume control. Your abs crunch too, out of the sudden sensation that bleeds.

"Hey…"

"I can't concentrate on missions because of you," his voice drops another note or two. And now you are being scolded. But so, so tenderly still…

"Mh, König… Not–not tonight," you whisper, wondering if this man can even take a thing such as a simple no. He lets go of your nipple, but not your breast. 

Not you. Never you.

"You have worries?"

You. You're my only worry.

Your mouth closes, draws into a line. You can't tell him.

“No… No.”

"Let me have you, angel. I've waited so long." His breath is growing heavier, the lean pulse against your back, thicker. 

"I'll make you feel good," he tries to bargain when you're not responding. In a way, you want him too, but for the first time during your... acquintance, you would like him to just hold you. Without the need to throw yourselves off a cliff first.

"Not tonight." You move, then turn in his gentle, throbbing hold, and he almost draws his hand away. "Please, König…?"

"Ok," he says, but looks like he doesn't quite know what to do. Just...hug you? Go to sleep while holding you? It's a change in protocol, but he's willing to do it for you. For that knowledge alone, your hand slithers down, finds his length and wraps around it.

"I can help you? If you want?" 

The rain is thin now, as it bats the glass. He lets you go and gradually leans back, falls to the mattress and allows you to give him a good, long stroke.

"My saving angel," is the only thing he says as he falls as slack as he can – a state which can barely be called relaxed – under your palm.

He's a needy man, and deprived since the last time you saw him. Which is why you know it doesn't take long. You barely see him in the electrically illuminated darkness, but you can feel how the choked sighs ripple across his body. You feel everything: the tight trembles, the density of the air around him. You hear the moist click as he swallows, the panting that rises. The occasional groans that sound like he's crying although he's not.

It's the only way he knows how to feel good, and someday, it just might make you cry. Even the sky cries for him, it seems, because a sudden gust of wind sends an entire sheet of rain against your window.

He's exceptionally quiet, probably because you didn't let him inside you this time. But then you remember he's usually this quiet only when he's emotional.

He's missed you...

That's what this is about – the ever demanding furnace of flesh. He wants to drown in you, burn until there's nothing left. It's been days, and he might've found some privacy to fantasize about you while ruining your lace, but it's no substitute for the real thing.

His hand flies on top of yours after you find that perfect angle, the one he likes. A harsh moan coats the night air, and shoots fireworks inside your stomach. He moves your hand up and down his cock like you can't do it right, but the connection, in truth, speaks of intimacy. The touch is affectionate. It says: 'we'…

Us.

Together.

He hisses, as if he's in pain. But he's just close, and you up the pace: his own hand is now only a loose, gentle cage around yours. He's so long, it seems like it takes forever to travel from the tip to the base, and you're trying to be quick and strong on top of it all. Just milk him well so he can sleep. 

So that perhaps you can sleep.

He looks at what you're doing to him, then looks at you, and it's the vulnerability in that stare that makes you understand he feels equal to that rain. You're his only summer sun. 

Then those lashes flutter, and his eyes turn to glass just before he comes. He spills all over himself with a long groan and a soul-ripping jerk, a giant coming undone under your palm and on your poor bunk bed that has seen so much already. The load is so generous you wonder whether he has even had the time to jerk himself off during the mission. If your innocent lace has barely been touched…

The last spurts are sadder, a few gushes that float to coat your hand, and he finally stills into some form of peace. He breathes in the night, relaxed and empty. You feel like you just worked on an emotional volcano, but he gathers himself quickly, raises to a half sit and tears his shirt off and over your head. Using it to clean himself and your hand, he throws it somewhere on the floor and pulls you on top of him.

Your breasts meet the solid chest, your thighs barely have enough time to go about his hips as he closes you in one of those bear hugs. The half-hard tip of him still throbs against your folds, and only then do you notice you're wet.

"I missed you," he sighs through the mask as you're held tight against his slowly settling pulse. He holds you exceptionally firm, squeezes you against him like you're his favorite toy. He tightens the hold around your middle until you are forced to let out a whimper. Only then does he loosen the hug and give out a gentle chuckle.

"Immer so gut… You feel so good. Always."

His confession is such a normal and yet, such a fragile thing to say, that you feel tears burning in your eyes.

"I missed you too," you say while trying to hide your tears from him.

"If you have worries, you can talk to me," he then says and starts to caress your back. The window is open, and the cool night air rolls in but in his embrace, you don't feel cold. You squeeze your legs and arms around him, feeling like a leech who never wants to let go. Finally, he's holding you, just the way you wanted to…

"It's nothing," you say, when in truth this man has you worried day and night. He's like a fridge you stock full day after day, only to find it empty every morning. And the things he gives you, the things he stuffs you full with… It's like having a cat who likes to fall asleep with you, a tame, purring beast who brings you fat rodents. If you don't praise him for them, he starts to hide them around the house until you wake up one morning to a terrible smell.

"You're the first who's ever hugged me," he mutters somewhere next to your ear. The golden fire inside your stomach turns into pity, horror and pain. 

"Are–are you serious…?" You whisper in the darkness of his mask that's spilled all over your pillow. You know he has had women before you, but apparently, they have never attached to him like this. Like tiny little leeches to a bear.

"Didn't your mother hug you when you were little?"

He thinks on his answer for a second or two, maybe three. The fact that he has to think about it should tell you enough.

"No."

Then, "I can't remember…"

Your lip tugs, your lashes bat away the fire that burns. He's breathing calmly under you again, satiated by a simple handjob and a hug. Although it feels like he's the one hugging you while you're being held captive there on top of him… It feels like he doesn't even quite know what a hug is.

"She had her own troubles," he mutters, sounding like he's about to fall asleep. Even on the brink of oblivion, he defends the woman who didn't know how to hug her own child, because he can survive without touch. No matter what, he will survive. 

His breathing starts to even, and your tears begin to fall. You think of moving from on top of him, to give him space and comfort to get some sleep. But it seems it's not an option, the way he holds you like a plush toy he will never let anyone take from him.

"I think I'm going to sleep now," he rasps, somewhere between awake and sleep. The rain has stopped, and you wonder whether it has only moved somewhere else, if it's now raining inside you. His hold of you tightens just before he slips to sleep.

"Don't let go, Engel…"

[superfallingstars]

Personally I think jily is supposed to be idealized (like how James and lily were idealized) to Harry. James gets knocked of his pedestal in swm and so does jily by Harry questioning if his father forced his mother into marriage. Later when talking to lupin and Sirius James and Jily get a slight defense and Harry is back to feeling alright but with the knowledge that things weren’t perfect.

I personally don’t read Jily as abusive (even though I read James as being abusive to snape at school, but I don’t think that violent, physical behavior was extended to Lily) but I definitely don’t read them as a “good” couple (whatever that means). I think you can read it in many different ways given there is so little of them and I think an interpretation that their relationship wasn’t the healthiest is perfectly plausible with the scant information we’re given.

Yeahhhh that’s probably what JKR intended. James and Lily are the fridged parents who are dearly mourned and missed, and as a result, their flaws are completely smoothed over in everyone’s memories. But in Snape’s Worst Memory, Harry learns the hard lesson that things aren’t always what they seem, and that nobody is perfect, not even his dead father. Hurrah.

My problem with this is that I think it’s very boring, LOL. Like it really is probably exactly what JKR intended (given her middle-of-the-road takes on every moral and political question that happens in these books), but man, it feels like such a cop out. James basically ruins Snape’s life for no reason, and the conclusion we’re meant to draw from this is just, well, people are complicated! NO!!!! Bad answer!!! Like, Snape also did some terrible things, but at least he spends a ton of pages actively suffering/atoning for his sins. But James, on the other hand, is only somewhat implied to have changed maybe slightly a little bit somewhere off-page, and we just have to take #1 James Potter fanboy Sirius Black and serial understater Remus Lupin at their word. So if James was supposed to be “redeemed” – or even just excused – wow, it really doesn't work for me. You can't go as dark as "protagonist questions if his father forced his mother into marriage" and then just brush it off like no big deal, Joanne! And it’s so frustrating, because all it would've taken to fix this would've been to show James being a good person instead of just telling the reader that he was one (proof: trust me?). Ugh.

So because of all that, I agree that from what we’re given, it’s quite difficult to read Jily as “good.” We rarely see them interact, and when we do, James’s behavior is wayyyy too similar to the trope of “terrible guy eventually gets the girl even though she seems to hate him with every fiber of her being because his persistence and not taking no for an answer is just toooo romantic to resist.” Which sucks, lol. It feels like JKR is basically being like, “eh, James was young and dumb, whatever” and giving him a huge out for all the grief he caused Snape (and Lily, for that matter) – and she expects that the reader will agree that that is a legitimate excuse for his behavior, and by extension think that it's reasonable for Lily to forgive and eventually marry him. And man, I am just not sure if that is enough to convince me. (And evidently, I'm not alone, considering the “Jily is abusive” meta post that likely sparked this ask!)

With that said, I agree that it’s a stretch to say that James was abusive (or even implied to be abusive) toward Lily. It’s not a completely unfounded take – it could probably be written well in a fic, and even be canon compliant – but you would really have to extrapolate that dynamic from the little information we’re given (as you pointed out). And more importantly (at least, re: that meta), I don't think JKR intended that interpretation at all.

Personally, I just don’t think it makes sense for the narrative for James and Lily to have been in an abusive relationship. And by the narrative, I mean Harry. If Jily is an abusive (or even just bad) relationship, that would have massive ramifications for the way Harry sees his parents. Ideally he would have to come to terms with that at some point – I don’t think it makes sense for James’s and Lily’s relationship to have been this way and not have significantly affected Harry – but imo JKR clearly does not want to deal with that. Like you said, the point of SWM – aside from foreshadowing Lily and Snape’s relationship – was to knock James off his pedestal and basically go, See, nobody’s perfect. <3 And the story is not interested in engaging with James’s behavior on a level any deeper than that lol. Which ok, I don’t love it, but if we’re not going to spend time dealing with morally gray James, then it doesn’t make sense for him to be even more morally gray (or rather, have him fall face first over the line into becoming a downright despicable person) by making him abusive toward Lily.

So that's my Doylist analysis: no way in hell did JKR intend Jily to be an abusive relationship, but she also didn't do a good enough job defending and/or redeeming James after SWM, so we're just left to speculate about how much he really changed. Still, I don't think "JKR is a bad writer" is a very satisfying answer. After all, the only reason that I'm engaging with this text in the first place is because I'm a fan of it, so I think it's also worth looking at it from a Watsonian perspective – or at least, to accept the events of the book as they're written and try to fill in the blanks. (Imo so much of the fun of fandom is trying to fill in those blanks in a satisfying way, to expand upon a character and try to reach a more interesting conclusion than the author did... And I would be remiss not to mention that, because it undoubtedly influences the way that I (and probably also you, if you're on this side of tumblr) engage with the text.)

So for me, as a Marauders era fan, I’m faced with: ok, I don’t really like the idea of these two characters together, but they canonically got together, and I think the story is better because they got together, and it’s better if they genuinely like each other, and it all had to happen somehow – so how can I explain it in a way that both makes sense with the story and is satisfying to me? And my answer to that is twofold.

First, I imagine that James was not always quite such an awful guy (as in, not always as showy, combative, and cruel as he was in SWM). After all, there is a glimmer of goodness in him when he chooses to save Snape’s life during the Prank, revealing that somewhere deep down, he does in fact have a moral compass. And second, I think that he has to have changed. And I mean a genuine change – one that might not have resulted in completely different behavior (after all, he was still hexing Snape through his seventh year) – but regardless, something that makes him seriously reflect on his actions and reconsider his motivations. His behavior in SWM is just too inexcusable for him to get with Lily – partly because Lily is generally framed as a Very Good Person, and partly because regardless of how she is framed, James was still awful to her – without any self-reflection or growth. Of course, the problem then becomes explaining this in a satisfying way!

And I have some ideas in mind – but they’re definitely more speculation than fact, and omg this post is long enough already. Luckily, I received another ask on this topic, so I will save my self-indulgent headcanons for that.

There is one last thing I want to mention, which is (part of) my reasoning for why James may not have been such a bully all the time and why I think he has the capacity for change, and it's been nagging at me ever since I read that meta post (which again, presumably started this whole thing). I think one thing that bothers a lot of people (including me!) about James is that it seems like he chooses to pick on Snape in SWM because of Lily’s presence. He wants to show off to her, so he keeps looking over to the girls by the water, he ruffles his hair, he deepens his voice, and he tries to get her attention by targeting Snape. Following this logic, we can presume that James wouldn’t have done any of this if Lily hadn’t been there – and that’s the part that got me thinking. I have to wonder if Lily was perhaps not the only person who James wanted to impress in that scene… in fact, I think it’s incredibly likely that James would have acted differently if the Marauders hadn’t been there! (Harry has "the distinct impression that Sirius was the only one for whom James would have stopped showing off," and Sirius saying that he's bored is the inciting incident for James spotting Snape...!) Yes it’s going to be a James masculinity analysis because this is what happens every time I talk about these fucking characters apparently. So idk, stick around if you’re into that.

And of course, thank you for the ask!

[evilcarmona]

Fem!Sokka AU

So, I thought a little about this AU.

(For starters, I don't speak english, so, well.. ehe)

To begin with, she is at least 19-20 years old. I would like to make her older, because I like to draw beautiful adult women, but then the plot will not work. The age of all older ATLA teenagers has been raised. The age of the younger ones does not change.

The story is the same. Initially, Sokka is a man. He probably remained the only boy in the tribe for longer. This may affect Katara, as he has been her parent figure for longer than in the canon. In general, I believe in Sokka's parental vibes.

He's also a little more mature. Responsible, strong. But still a sexist. Father said that he was the only warrior of the tribe. Then he left them and went away with other men for many years. It couldn't end well. On the other hand, living among women affects Sokka more than he thinks.

So, about after Kiyoshi Island, gaang stops at the shrine of a female warrior. This is not Kyoshi, because I don't want Aang to feel that he is indirectly to blame for the situation. In general, Sokka offends the spirit with some kind of sexist comment. The Spirit takes revenge and curses him. Sokka falls into a magic pond. Poof! He's a woman. Aang has talked to the spirit, and the spirit is ready to cast spells on the water in the pond again. But she won't do it for two years. Lol

So, Sokka can only put up with it. Saving the world is more important than a little curse. Somewhere in the background, Zuko is trying to figure out where gaang took this beautiful woman and where they put that beautiful man. Really, where did he go? (Uncle Iroh is very funny)

The fact is that during the journey, Sokka realizes that he actually feels good. He likes it. In addition, he likes to be beautiful and do hairstyles.

Besides, becoming a woman, he feels the injustice of the situation at the north Pole more acutely. Sokka understands that putting someone in a frame because of gender is unfair. He and Yue become friends. Sokka kicks Khann's ass. And he also kills Zhao before the disaster with the Moon happens. Yue deserves to live.

In the future, Sokka thinks a lot. He supports his sister and Toph more than anyone. In fact, he used to have his father's vibes. Now it's the mother's vibes. Vibes of the coolest mom in the world. She can cut off the offenders' heads with a halberd. Literally.

In fact, I have nothing to justify the halberd with. I love halberds as much as I love women in sexy dresses. A lady may have small hobbies)

Okay, maybe Sokka decided to explore more weapons. She loves her boomerang, but does not refuse to develop like a warrior. Halberd is clearly defeating bending, haha. Maybe Sokka will be given some cool nickname on the battlefield. The Moon Witch? Heh

(Somewhere far away, Hakoda and the South Pole fleet are wondering what kind of Moon Witch is this? They will be surprised)

Perhaps before they meet after Ba Sing Se, Hakoda meets someone who has met the gaang before. Someone: You have two wonderful daughters! Hakoda: What?

So Zuko comes to gaang and asks where the boy has gone. The explanation was awkward because Zuko barely had time to accept that he was bi. What does it mean that the two people who make his heart beat faster are one person?

I forgot to tell you! Just because Sokka was bewitched by a spirit doesn't mean that Sokka trusts Aunt Wu! It's a matter of pride, lol

So two years go by, and you know what? Sokka does not ask the spirit to lift the curse. He's fine as it is.

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 15: ~

You're Home:

Who's ready to meet the Muirs? This is the longest arc. I'm calling it 'Farming and Family.' If this was ever a book, yes, someone said I should publish it like Portal's Blue Sky, then these chapters would be the first novel. Also, yes, I did write this alongside all of the Operation Spy mini-arc. Next chapter might not be out till next week because of this.

Part 16:

Fiona Muir wasn't alarmed when she heard the roaring of trucks from the kitchen window. Sometimes deliveries can be made in the evening. Farming wasn't exactly a job where you could stick to a time schedule. But, when the headlights began to meet her eyes, she frowned. Her mind began to race. Were they expecting a delivery? Did Angus not tell her? Perhaps they were lost?

Then she saw the logo on the side. Cadal. Her heart sank, and her mind began to race further. She turned the tap off. She didn't notice everyone else in the house had the same reaction and began to hover. Fiona didn't wait or listen. Something in her gut told her this wasn't good. She marched to the front door, swung her oversized brown cardigan on, slipped into her muddy wellington boots, and opened the door.

'Fiona, where are you going?' her husband Logan called. She ignored him.

'Ma, wait,' her eldest Angus called. She ignored him.

'Ma,' her youngest Harris called. She ignored him.

Fiona might be a woman in her early sixties, but she still had the mental and physical energy of someone in her forties. Farming will either make you or break you. For the Muir's, it was never the latter.

Her boots crunched under the freshly layered snow. The passenger door opened, and O'Connor, Roy, and Caz jumped out. The driver kept the engine running, both for heat and to prevent it icing over. Roy, feeling like he hadn't done anything to contribute other than hide and do stock intake, took it upon himself to explain the very normalised situation. At least to everyone else on the property. They're all prepared for the reaction and it's outcomes. Caz and O'Connor went to open the van door. Roy felt like he was delivering news of Muir's death.

'Are you Fiona Muir?'

'Yes.' She took a laboured breath. 'Is this about Ewan?'

Roy nodded. Fiona's face dropped. He was quick to react. 'He's fine - don't worry - but he's - well, he's different.'

'Was it an accident?'

'Yes.' Fiona covered her mouth in shock. Her mind instantly came up with wild theories. How can Ewan even be okay if there was an accident? 'I'm sorry, but it's best you see for yourself.' The rest of the family, apart from Muir's nephew who was alseep in his crib, appeared on the doorstep. Roy noticed and made eye contact with them. 'You all can, but I must warn you, this will be a bit of a shock.'

'Well, where is-'

'I'm here, ma.' Muir's voice was weak. Shy. The usual playfulness was full of dread. It wasn't until they got into the drive that the excitement of going home became one of nerves. He was shaking, and not because of the cold. Not even Innes' touch could help. He had to let go, retreating the tendril Innes now knew every crease and line of. 'Just...Just don't scream, eh?'

The truck swung side to side, and everyone waited with baited breath. Muir's family approached, believing Ewan was going to be wheeled out on a hospital bed with 3rd degree burns or a broken bone. Why he didn't come home in an ambulance was something that didn't cross their minds. Then they saw him. His mum, dad, two brothers, their wives, and his two nieces saw what Muir had become. He towered over them, yet he felt so small. Like a toddler who's been caught drawing over the freshly painted living room walls. He couldn't look them in the eye. He felt their hearts sink and then race. What hurt was seeing Angus lightly push his nieces behind him. Muir hung his head low, as if this was all his fault.

'H-Hey, everyone. I...' What do you even say? 'I hope you had a good Christmas.' A light whimper escaped his mostly melted lips. 'I'm sorry I didn't rin-'

'Ewan?' Fiona stepped forward and gently cupped her sons face, slowly forcing him to look at her. She held back a gasp when she noticed all of his eyes moved to look at her. She began to study her middle child. From the bubbled flesh to the exposed ribs that kept his upper body from toppling over. Then she noticed his intestines hanging out. That got her to let out a deflated breath. 'I don't know where to look.' Muir's eyes filled with tears. Oddly enough, until now, he was content with his new body. He never felt ashamed, but hearing those words crushed him. He lowered his head again and silently cried. Fiona quickly knelt down to keep in his eyeline.

'Oh, baby, I'm sorry.' It was genuine. Quick to correct her mistake. 'Please forgive me. I just don't-' No. No excuses. She cried with him. 'We can fix this.'

'No, you can't,' he mumbled. 'I'm stuck like this forever.' Oh, how those words were a knife to her heart, but she was a Muir. And Muirs don't break.

'Then we'll be with you every step of the way.' With one hand, Fiona stroked Muir's arm and wiped his tears with the other. 'Please don't cry. You're home.'

Logan approached and patted Muir on the side of what should have been his shoulder. He knelt down beside his wife and pulled him into a hug. 'You're my son. How can I ever stop loving you?'

'You don't find me repulsive?'

'Well, you never were the handsome one,' Harris joked, causing his wife, Moira, to lightly smack him on the arm. Muir stifled a small laugh as his worries began to leave his mind. Why would he ever think his family would reject him? They hugged Muir as he cried. He wrapped a tendril around them all in return.

Caz turned to Roy, who was crying at the sight. 'Alright, Roy?'

'Y-Yeah.' He sniffed loudly, completely killing the moment. 'Just being silly.' But he wasn't alone. O'Connor and Raffs shed a few tears, and even the driver he sat besides was openly bawling. Whilst the family had their moment, Brodie opened the second truck for Gibbo and Addair. Innes led Rennick outside, and Trots used his tendrils to not land flat on his face in the inch thick snow and slush. Getting into the truck without legs was easier than getting out. Bonnie, Muir's eldest niece from his older brother Angus, noticed them and gasped loudly.

'Mummy. Daddy!' She pulled on their sleeves, trying to pull them away as she slipped under Muir's tendril. Bonnie was the eldest, but that doesn't mean much when you're only seven. 'There's more! There's more!' She pointed at Addair, who awkwardly froze and glanced between her and her parents before giving a small wave. Now, the initial shock just became confusion.

Muir pulled away and turned for his family to see everyone. 'Ah, so, everyone.' He wiped his tears and put on a smile. 'These are me work mates.' Yes, even Rennick and Addair, who looked surprised. 'I was hoping they could stay here. Please?' He sounded like a teenager begging for his friend to sleep over on a school night, rather than a thirty-five year old man. 'They can't go back to the cities, and they can help. What about the old barn? We can all fit and-'

'Ewan.' Logan interpreted, noticing his son began to talk too fast. 'They can stay. I'm not gonna leave you lot out in the cold. But, yes, we'll need all the help we can get. After some names, though.'

'Thank you, dad.' Muir turned and gestured for the group to approach whilst he easily stepped over his family, with his back now facing the house. 'Everyone, this is me ma and pa. Fiona and Logan. Big brother Agnus. Little shit brother 'arris.'

'Ewan, stop swearing in front of-'

'Lily, wife of Angus and Moira.' Yes, Moira Muir. 'Wife of 'arris. Bonnie and-' Muir stopped and knelt down to reach his second nieces' eyes. 'I'm sorry, I always forget your name.' An obvious joke. The girl puffed out her chest and bellowed.

'I'm Amber Night. Queen on the Universe!' Grace. Her name is Grace. She's five. Roy held back a laugh. Rennick tried not to react to the ear-piercing screams from a little girl. He's just been sleeping for the past 3 hours. He didn't need that as an alarm.

'And my nephew upstairs is Oliver.'

'Quiet the family, then?' Caz joked. Being a single child, he's never known or understood what it's like to have so many relatives. Two daughters and a wife just felt right for him. 'Pleasure to meet you.' He shook Logan and then Fiona's hands. 'We'll try and,' he let out a single chuckle. 'Answer any questions you might have.'

'Oh! Oh!' Grace yelled as she jumped up and down to get everyone's attention as she held Moira and Bonnie's hand. 'Uncle Ewan. Why are you a crab?'

'Grace!' Moira snapped. 'Don't be rude.'

'No, it's fine, Moira.' Because Muir was quick to think of an explanation a child could understand. He grinned. 'You see. I've been cursed.' Cue the dramatics. 'Cursed by the sea for stirring its waters. But, you know what's worse?'

'What?'

'I must feed. And do you know what on?'

'What?'

Muir leaned in close. Three tendrils from each side of his body sprouted and slowly reached for them. 'Children.' Cue the girls running, and Muir giving chase across the 5 acres of snowy garden before reaching the fields, laughing like a sterotypical villain from a children's show. 'You can't escape me!' Well, they're happy to have their favourite uncle back.

Caz's eyes matched Angus, and he noticed that star-struck look in his eye. Yep. Another fan. 'Wait. You're Caz McLeary.' Rennick, who was rolling his eyes to the moon and back, was right. He really was the height of shite on shore. He didn't give Caz time to answer. 'Okay. Wow. I wondered what happened to you after you retired.'

'Eh. It just felt right. Met me wife, and I could feel me body telling me to stop.' Suze. 'Oh, do you have a phone we can borrow?'

'Of course.' He turned to Logan. 'Dad.' He turned to Angus. 'I'll take who I can inside. You set Ewan and his friends up with the barn.'

The barn sat just after the cattle guard that joined the field to the garden. Logan led the infected and Innes, who should be there for Muir, but he was still too busy playing pretend with his nieces. Currently, he hung Bonnie by her ankle above his head, pretending he was going to eat her alive. Grace tapped his leg with a makeshift stick she used as a sword to save her cousin. He lightly dropped Bonnie into the snow and acted as if they had found his weak spot. Now, he was the one being chased, begging for mercy.

'So, let me get this straight.' Logan opened the barn doors, where they were greeted to stacks of hay and several barn cats. Rennick's eyes widened because that man adored cats, but he didn't want anyone to know. He lingered at the back, but he could see a couple of calico kittens as clear as day. Whatever conversation was happening around completely went in one non-existent ear and out the other. 'You drilled into something living in the oil?'

'That's the gist of it,' Addair replied. 'We came into contact with it, so we look like this now.'

'But, it suddenly died,' Trots continued.

Logan raised a brow. 'Just like that?'

'Just like that. It came from the sea, so maybe it couldn't breathe?' Trots didn't know, and he didn't care. 'It turned to dust before we could ask it anything.'

'Well, I'm sorry for what you blokes have gone through. Now,' Logan banged the door and went inside. 'We'll bring blankets. Give ye a tour if you want. Watch out for the barn cats. They hide in here most days.' Not that Rennick minded. 'It's early for bed, so please, come and sit with us. Got a lot to talk about.'

'You're too kind, Logan,' Gibbo's warm smile dropped when he heard Muir drop into the snow besides him. By now, everyone else had gone inside. He turned and saw his co-worker reaching out with a look of pain. Bonnie and Grace had somehow managed to get onto his back, where they began to tickle him. He wasn't ticklish but anything for his nieces' playtime.

'Gib...bo...Avenge me...'

Gibbo raised a brow, smiled, and turned away. 'Keep up the good work, girls.' And with that, he walked inside, leaving him to his fate.

Gently, Muir hoisted his nieces up, rolled onto his back, and set the girls down on his chest. They hugged what they could of him. Muir smiled and looked up at the clear night sky. The waning crescent moon shone brightly, and Muir's mind was at peace with himself. Despite everything that's happened to him, from the pain of transforming and losing himself to The Shape, to finally being one with Innes, he felt better than he had in months. Of course, he didn't know what was coming next, but he was ready because Ewan Derek Muir was finally home.

[xxsabitoxx]

Experience

Kishibe x Fem! Reader

Warnings: large age gap (reader is in her 20s but it’s unspecified) and Kishibe is 50, car sex, hand job, degrading, praising, smoking

A/N: this was meant to be a short 1-1.5k Drabble but it turned into a mini smut instead (my brain is weird so some of y’all may still consider this a Drabble or you may consider it a full fic… idk man) anywho here he is :)

Word count: 2.6k

“You… you can’t be serious, oneechan.” Denji was staring at you with an udon noodle hanging between his lips. You chuckled at Denji’s constant use of calling you “big sis” — Aki had reprimanded him forever ago about using formalities with you. You had told him senpai was far too much and that calling you oneechan was fine. Still, it made you chuckle that it was the only nickname he ever stuck too with no bribery needed. Aki still used the gum tactic to get Power and Denji to use the correct terms while addressing him.

“I am serious.” The smile never left your face, watching as Denji slurped his noodle the rest of the way. “But why? He’s so old! Hell he’s over half your age! Ain’t he like 50 or something? And you’re like 20-something? I doubt he can even get his dick hard!” You rolled your eyes, laughter bubbling in your chest as Denji’s clear shock at your crush on his mentor. You’d known Kishibe since you joined public safety a few years prior, having worked alongside Aki when it came to training under the man’s brutal regime.

“Oh I doubt that. Kishibe is a man of experience, he probably has over 30 years worth with women.” Denji still couldn’t see how that would appeal to you, if anything he thought it should be a turn off. “That’s 30 years of use. You’ll probably catch a disease.” At that you couldn’t help but snort, putting your cigarette to your lips and inhaling. “Just think about it for a second, Denji. Wouldn't you want a woman that knows what she’s doing? One that would know how to take care of you?”

“I mean yeah, but maybe a woman that’s only a couple years older than me. You’re going after a man that was well into adulthood by the time you were born.” You shook your head, finding it rather funny that Denji was seemingly peeved by this. “That’s real bold coming from you, Denji-kun.” The blonde quirked his eyebrow, eyeing you suspiciously as he went in for yet another helping. “You and your crush on Makima? The fact that she seems to reciprocate your advances? Kinda a similar situation… but mine is legal.”

You shrugged your shoulders, blowing the smoke you had inhaled. “Yah, whatever… go for your creepy old man then.” He stuck his tongue out as you rolled your eyes, a victorious smile still present on your lips. “No really…” he drawled softly “he’s right there.” You froze, head whipping around to the direction Denji had motioned to. Sure enough, Kishibe was sitting at the bar, a glass of whisky in front of him… typical. You turned back to Denji, utterly mortified. “You don’t think he heard us, do you?” The blonde shrugged, a shit eating grin creeping up his face.

“Denji!” You whisper yelled this time, face growing warm. “Huh?” He spoke a little louder than necessary “I don’t think he heard? What’s the big deal anyways? Ain’t you want him to know? So you can like…actually do something about ya crush?” He drawled loudly, enough to draw a few wandering eyes to your table. “N-not the point! Shut up!” You were snuffing out your cigarettes on the underside of the table seconds later, ready to make a quick escape before Kishibe could even notice you there.

The problem being, you knew your old mentor fairly well. It was more than likely that he was already aware of your presence. Not only that but you were nearly positive he’d probably heard you and Denji talking about him. You wouldn’t be able to escape him unless you put a conscious effort into sneaking out of here. Even then, he’d find a way to corner you and ask you what the hell was going on. “Eh, whatever oneechan… at least I have the guts to go for the people I like.” Now you knew you were done for.

If Denji was going to make this a game of confidence, you’d have to do your “big sister” duties and simply one up him. “You’re a pain in my ass.” You scoffed, watching the grin return to the blonde’s face as you pushed your chair out. “You can thank me later.” Was all he said, returning to his udon as you made your way to the bar. “Captain Kishibe.” You fought to keep your voice steady. Kishibe turned to look at you, the usual stoic expression on his face.

“Come to talk to the creepy old man sitting alone at the bar?” He chimed softly, watching your face morph into embarrassment as he confirmed your biggest fear. He heard everything you and Denji had said. “Blame blondey over there for that nickname. Guessing that if you heard what Denji had to say you also heard what I had to say.” Your arms clasped behind your back, fidgeting with your fingers nervously as you waited for him to speak.

Kishibe swirled his glass around, watching the amber liquid slosh before he brought it to his lips and downed the rest. “Oh, I did. Not that I’m shocked… you’re far more transparent with your emotions than you think you are, y/n.” You could have melted on the spot, seeped straight into the floorboards and disappeared forever. Instead, you shifted your weight from foot to foot, willing yourself to grow some confidence and test the waters. It didn’t seem he was necessarily shutting you down just yet.

“Well… I guess this was a pretty lame ass way of saying I have a thing for my old mentor.” Kishibe leaned back, eyes shutting briefly as he inhaled through his nose. “You’re just looking for someone to show you a good time. Tell me, have you ever actually enjoyed any of the men you’ve slept with?” His eyes opened and he turned to face you fully now, tapping the wooden top of the bar twice to signal that he was ready to pay his tab. “Truthfully, no.” A breathy chuckle left him, one that sent shivers down your spine.

“I see. I guess that would make it my duty, Hmm? Your old mentor has to show you the ropes… show you the good from the bad. A private lesson, if you would.” You didn’t quite know how to react, your brain working in overdrive to try and process the words he had just spoken. “S-so you’re saying you’ll…” you flinched at your own stutter, watching Kishibe eye you carefully. “That I’ll show you how a man properly satisfies a lady? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Sugar.” Your heart jumped at the nickname.

You found it hard to speak, instead you kept your mouth shut and watched your old mentor pay his tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. “I paid for the fool’s meal as well as yours, he’ll get home on his own just fine. Let’s go.” Kishibe was heading towards the door, you waited till he was facing away to shoot Denji a look. The blonde seemed a bit awestruck that you were already leaving with him, you just shrugged as you left. You’d probably have to apologize the next time you saw him.

Before you knew it you were slipping into the passenger side of Kishibe’s car, thanking him softly for opening and closing the door for you. He slipped on the other side a moment later, turning the key so the engine roared to life. “I didn’t think you were the car type.” You commented softly, eyes scanning the amount of gadgets that littered the dashboard. The car’s interior was all black leather, that was at least something you expected from him.

“I’m not but the holiday bonus was nice and I needed an upgrade anyways.” He cracked his window, lighting up a cigarette before pulling out of the restaurant’s small lot and out into the bustling street. You didn’t expect him to be nervous, nor did you expect him to be awkward about the situation. Yet you were practically squirming in your seat, hoping he’d show some sort of nervousness to help you feel less inexperienced.

His cigarette hung half hazardously from his lips, one hand on the wheel while the other came down to rest on your thigh. You nearly choked on your own saliva, heat pooling in your gut at the simple action. “Amuse me, would you? What’s the best thing a guy has done for you, Hmm?” Smoke puffed out around his cigarette, eyes locked on the road as he waited for your response. “Offer to walk me home.” You admitted sheepishly, not quite sure how he’d react to such a lame response. It was true your taste in men hadn’t really benefited you in any way up until now.

He let out a gruff laugh, slowing down as he pulled up to a red light and plucked the cigarette from his lips. “That’s it? Seriously? Where the hell are you finding these bummy men?” You weren’t sure why his clear annoyance affected you the way it did, but you found yourself struggling to not press your thighs together. A small effort to relieve some of the ache, you knew if you moved your legs even a little he’d feel it. Then again, he was driving you back to his apartment to fuck you… would it really matter? “No need to be tense.” He murmured softly, hand squeezing your thigh.

“…’m not tense.” A stupid lie but it made him chuckle so you couldn’t really be mad at it. “Let me help you relax.” The cigarette was back between his lips, hand on the wheel as the light turned green. Kishibe pushed on your thigh, silently asking you to spread them. It took your brain a few seconds to properly respond, spreading them just enough that he could fit his hand between them. “Atta girl…” smoke puffed out around his lips once again, filling your nose in an almost intoxicating way. You were a bit shocked by the praise, nearly letting a whimper slip out.

The man you knew as your mentor was certainly not the same as the man sitting beside you. Then again you doubted he would ever woo the amount of women he did with his mentor attitude. Kishibe’s hand gingerly crept up your thigh before dipping between to cup your panty covered cunt. You mentally thanked yourself for wearing a skirt, giving the man in the driver's seat easy access to where you wanted him the most. He could feel your warmth radiating through the thin material, on top of that he could tell you were already wet.

Kishibe exhaled deeply, forcing himself to remain focused on the road even though he’d really like to look over and gauge your reaction. Truthfully, he had been waiting patiently for quite some time now for you to be the one to make the first move. He wasn’t lying when he said you were transparent with your emotions, but even then he didn’t want to risk creating awkward situations. He was getting old after all, a fifty year old man going for a woman in her twenties would certainly look terrible on his part if the other party didn’t reciprocate.

Maybe he was just a creepy old pervert for thinking that way.

Regardless, it was starting to get hard to ignore the persistent stiffness between his own legs. You’re breathing had hitched, suddenly dizzied by the fact that his hands were already on you. Two fingers pressed against the wetmark on your panties, drawing a sigh from your lips as he rubbed the material softly. “You’re more excited than you let on.” it was an off hand comment, one that had your fingers gripping the door handle to keep yourself grounded. Kishibe’s fingers slid along your slit, settling over your pulsing clit.

“You’ve said no man has ever satisfied you… I take it because he didn’t know where this was…” he pressed down, sending a shock of pleasure through you. Your mouth opened but nothing came out, slowly he began rubbing tentative circles, making sure you keep his fingers on the cloth of your panties. He wouldn’t let you feel his bare fingers just yet. More smoke puffed out, filling the car briefly before being sucked out the window. “I asked you a question, sugar.” you turned to look at him, face warm as his fingers continued to pleasure you. “T-that would be right…”

“Every woman is different, is this good for you?” you knew he was referring to his current action. “Y-yeah but…” you reached for his hand, placing yours over his as you guided him to a faster tempo. Kishibe took the reins again instantly, chuckling softly as you let out a soft moan. “Hmm, that better?” it was low, enough you send shivers through you as your hips jerked into his hand. “Need more…” you couldn’t quite figure out what specifically you needed, you just knew you needed more of him. “I know.” was all he said, fingers working you up continuously as he drove.

Part of you had to wonder if he was even driving you to his apartment at this point. It felt like you were going in circles around the city as he got you off in his front seat. Before you knew it, you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. “S-shit…” you clenched around nothing, the tension in your gut had appeared a lot quicker than usual. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” he teased softly, fingers picking up speed ever so slightly. You mumbled out some sort of ‘yes’, gasping softly as the tension continued to build.

Maybe it was the combination of everything, Kishibe, his hand, the fact that he was doing this almost absentmindedly while driving through the city, everything was edging you on. “Then cum for me. Show me how much of a little slut you are. I mean really, you’re going to cum from me rubbing you through your panties. You’ll ruin them.” You whined at his words, the tension building so intensely that you were certain you’d fall apart. “Atta girl…cum for me” encouraged again, rolling to a stop at yet another red light.

He looked over at you know, the sudden motion causing you to turn to look at him. “C’mon… no need to hold back.” he sneered, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You felt your lower lip tremble, head turning to look back at the road as your orgasm crashed down over you. Breathless gasps escaped your lips, hand shooting down to hold Kishibe’s wrist as he continued to work you through your ogasm. “…ough… enough…” you squeaked, overstimulation taking over as the light turned green.

He only slowed because of the light turning green, hand never retracting from where it was between your legs. “Here we are.” He commented offhand, pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building. You blinked, the throb already returning. “Hope you’re not worn out… I haven’t even gotten to show you a proper good time.” He pulled into a numbered space, shifting into park and plucking the nearly gone cigarette from his lips. You watched him put it out on an ashtray in his cup holder, turning the car off a moment later.

“Well?” You shivered as his hand pulled away, making you want to chase after him. “Y-yeah…I’m not worn out. Hell, after your training it’s hard to ever get worn out these days…captain.” You teased softly, not knowing where the confidence came from. A smile actually tugged at his lips, hand reaching for the door handle and pushing it open. “I’ll remember that, sugar.” For some reason, you felt as if you had just dug your own grave.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

It’s a little unclear, in the end, how the conversation gets there, because all in all the Richmond dressing room isn’t the site of that many sex jokes, not since Colin came out and no longer feels the need to make them. But they’re still lads, yeah, and young, mostly, so the jokes still happen, even if it’s just gentle ribbing, and silliness.

So: somehow, one morning halfway into Roy’s first year as head coach, the topic turns to sex, of the rougher variety. Roy’s only listening with half an ear, he’s busy sketching out the new trick plays Nate’s dreamed up on the whiteboard, and he doesn’t really catch the build-up, but when Jamie’s name is mentioned his ears perk up without him even really noticing. It’s become instinct at that point, keeping track of Jamie (even as Roy does his best to give all his players at least some semblance of equal attention).

“We know that Jamie likes it rough, though,” Zorro says, and the rest of the group oh:s and ah:s either knowingly or in surprised glee.

“Eh?” Jamie sounds startled by the assertion, but not particularly put off. (He never really is, as long as he gets attention, Roy thinks with an internal scoff that’s far fonder than he’d ever admit to.) “What makes you say that?”

“You told us!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy can see Jamie shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, mate.” Still not bothered, but clearly not understanding what Zorro is getting at either.

Isaac throws him a disbelieving glance. “You don’t remember, bruv? It was when you first came here, before you started going out with Keeley.”

“Yeah,” Colin interjects, “You’d only been here for about two weeks, I think, but you came into training with these marks and bruises, and it turned out you’d hooked up with a girl the night before, but you hadn’t known she was a professional dominatrix before you got to her place.”

Hoots and titters at that, delighted and amused but not unkind.

“Exactly,” Zorro says. “And you told us you’d just gone with it because you have to try everything at least once, and it hadn’t been bad.”

Ah. Roy remembers now. He’d already been absolutely fed-up with Jamie’s attitude, the arrogance and selfishness and incessant need to put others down, and the striker’s total lack of shame and casual smugness about the marks had rubbed Roy entirely the wrong way. Not because people should be ashamed for liking that sort of stuff, of course (Roy wasn’t), but there was such a thing as common decency and unspoken rules about not parading around the dressing room like you were in a fucking porno or some shit and—

If Roy was honest about it, he’d mostly been pissed because it was Jamie, and everything Jaime did pissed him off back then (though, to be fair, most of what Jamie did back then was fucking shitty, so it’s not like Roy was wrong to be pissed. Most of the time).

“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is soft, suddenly. Small, in a way that has alarm bells going off like air raid sirens in Roy’s head. “Yeah. Um.”

The realisation hits Roy a second before it does the rest of the team, and his ears are already filling with a terrible ringing as the room falls silent behind him. He can feel himself grow rigid with rage, and with cold, curdling shame.

“Shit, man,” Isaac says eventually.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry.” It’s odd, the way Colin’s earnest, unhappy voice seems to be coming from so very far away.

“What?” Zorro, still not getting it, and then he does, and Roy, at a great distance, can hear his face crumpling. “Oh shit, Jamie, I didn’t mean—“

“No, don’t worry about it, man. It was a long time ago, yeah? It’s fine.” It’s a heroic attempt at sounding casual. Might have succeeded, too, back before they all knew Jamie as well as the do now.

Roy doesn’t stick around to hear the team offer their comfort and Jamie try to wave their concern away. He walks into the coaches’ office, and the only reason he doesn’t slam the door as hard as he can is because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. 

“You all right there, Coach?” Beard looks up at him from behind his book, brow creased in quiet assessment.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Nate jumps down from the desk he’s been perched on. “Did someone die?”

And Roy wants to tell them to fuck off. Wants to punch the wall so hard it stops his mind from spinning. But he’s been talking with Dr. Fieldstone about that, hasn’t he, how his maladaptive coping strategies are tripping him up, and fucking over the people he cares about in the process.

So he takes a deep breath. And he doesn’t look at them when he starts talking. “Back before Ted came here Jamie came in with these bruises all over his chest and back one day, and he told us he’d had sex with a fucking dominatrix. And I believed him, okay? I just… I fucking believed him, even though it was weird fucking bruises for— That’s not the fucking point. But because I thought he was an arrogant fucking prick and I fucking hated his guts, I told him— “ He trails off, looking up at the ceiling. Uselessly, his cheeks are burning. Maybe his eyes are, too, if he’d let himself feel it. “I told him I’d be happy to pay to see someone give him a trashing. Give ‘em extra if they knocked a couple of his teeth out so he’d shut up for once.”

Beard doesn’t say anything, but he leans back in his chair with a look on his face that lets Roy know that, yeah, he’d fucked that one up good and proper.  

“Oh,” Nate says. “So it was his dad who— That’s— But— I mean, that’s not good, obviously, that’s awful, but it’s… It wasn’t you who hurt him, Roy. And I mean, you and Jamie have said all sorts of thing to each other. Done all sorts of things.”

And that’s true, isn’t it. And mostly Roy is happy enough to write it off as tit-for-tat, old foolishness and bygones, Jamie a prick and Roy sometimes an idiot, and they’re both better now. And he doesn’t know how to explain to Nate and Beard how knowing that Jamie looked up to him ever since he was a kid, knowing that he never took that poster down, even after that, after everything, makes his casual cruelty and failure to protect Jamie all the harder to bear, even if he hadn’t known at the time that there was anything to protect Jamie from.

“Coach—“ Beard begins, but is interrupted by a knock on the door, and before Roy can tell whoever it is to fuck off, Jamie sticks his head into the office. Must have made his escape from the rest of the team, then. “Sorry, Coach, are we getting started or what? The lads— “ He catches sight of Roy’s face and his eyes widen. “Jesus, Roy, what happened? Are you all right, man?”

Under other circumstances, Roy might have found it remarkable how quickly and effortlessly Jamie makes the switch from Roy’s respectful star player to Roy’s friend, his entire demeanour changing as he moves into the room. As it is, Roy doesn’t say anything, but he must have made some sort of noise or moved some sort of way, because Jamie’s face twists in alarm, and then he’s across the floor and gently but firmly pulling Roy into a hug. “There, it’s all right, man, I’ve got you, lad, it’s all right.”

Roy blames all the fucking therapy he’d been doing for the past eight months for not pushing Jamie away but instead allowing the other to hold him, and allowing himself to hesitantly wrap his arms around him in turn. Fuck Nate. Fuck Beard. Fuck the team. Fuck anyone who thinks they get to have opinions on that.

He’s got an inch on Jamie, but Jamie’s broader, solid and strong. Steady, as he puts a hand on the back of Roy’s neck, murmuring nonsense that Roy knows is supposed to be soothing, and which maybe is. Mostly, it’s reassuring to have Jamie there, whole and hale and safe.

“What’s going on? Is Phoebe all right? Did something happen to your sister? Keeley?” Jamie is starting to sound a little freaked out, and Roy realises that he can’t just stand there mutely forever and let the fears grow in Jamie’s mind, he needs to fucking say something, explain.

He’d rather never say another word.

Tough fucking luck, Kent. “Do you remember what I told you when you said you’d had sex with a dominatrix?”

The way Jamie stiffens tells him that, yeah, Jamie does. “Roy—“

Roy tightens his grip, not wanting Jamie to pull away. “Don’t fucking tell me it was fine, because you were a nightmare for the rest of that day, you were absolutely fucking horrible to everyone.” Worse than usual, lashing out—not that Roy had known it at the time, or had thought it anything more than Jamie being a fucking prick for no other reason than to be a prick.  

For a few moments, Jamie doesn’t say anything. Then he lets out a long sigh, relaxing into the embrace and pressing his face against Roy’s neck. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, “it was all shit, mate. I mean, all of it was, it wasn’t just you— But, Roy, listen… “ And now Jamie does pull back, just enough so that he can look at Roy. His eyes are tired, but the set of his jaw determined. “You fucking hated me, right? Back then, I mean. You hated me, ‘cause I was a prick, and I hated you, ‘cause you were a bitter old cunt.”

There’s no fucking denying it, is there. Roy gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, but—“

“No, let me just— I’m not saying that makes it all right, yeah, I just— You hated me, okay. But, would you have said what you said if you’d known what really happened?”

Roy’s lips twist into snarl. “What? No! Of course I wouldn’t fucking have— “ He might have ached to put Jamie’s head through a wall several times a day, but he wouldn’t have stood by for Jamie’s piece of shit father—

“See?” The little twat has the audacity to look triumphant at that, as if he’d scored a particularly neat goal. “That’s what I’m saying, yeah? Even when you hated my guts, you wouldn’t have said that, if you’d known what was going on. But you didn’t know, ‘cause I didn’t want you to, or anyone to, and I’m an amazing actor, yeah? So, like, it’s not fine, but it’s… Don’t beat yourself up over it, man. You didn’t know.”

It’s absolution, the kind Roy doesn’t think he deserves and the Jamie is far too quick to offer. But Jamie is also right: Roy hadn’t known. Wallowing in guilt won’t do anything to change the past, or help Jamie now.

“All right,” Roy says. “But that was still a shit thing to say and I wish hadn’t done it. You never deserved any of what that arsehole did to you, and if… fuck it, when I made you feel like I thought otherwise, that was my fucking bad, and I’m sorry.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.” And there’s a tremulousness to his faint smile that makes Roy think that for all his claims to the contrary, it had still been something Jamie needed to hear.  

It does Roy’s fucking head in that Jamie’s been up to see his dad several times since he got word that James Tartt is in rehab. But they’ve argued about that already, bitterly, and Roy has very reluctantly admitted that it’s not his call. All he can do is offer Jamie whatever support he needs, whenever he wants it.

Clearing his throat, Roy gives Jaime an awkward pat on the shoulder before carefully extricating himself fully from the hug. “We’re still on for dinner with Keeley tonight?” He’ll make Jamie’s favourite dish, he decides. Throw in some dessert.

“Yeah, of course, yeah.”

“Good.” He jerks his head to the door. “Go on then, tell the lads to get on the pitch, and we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Coach.”

As the door shuts behind him, Roy turns on Beard and Nate who – wisely – don’t say anything.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about this,” he tells them sharply. “I don’t want you mentioning a fucking word of it ever again.” Because maybe he’s gotten to a point where having a fucking breakdown and hugging it out with Jamie in front of them isn’t the end of the world (even if it’s a near fucking thing), but if someone tries to make him discuss it, he’ll need to start head-butting people, and he’s been trying to stay off that since he became manager, because it just isn’t a good look, is it, and he’s trying to be better about that sort of thing.

Nate and Beard glance at each other. Roy doesn’t really care for the knowing look in their eyes, but they merely offer a nod and a yeah, yeah, of course, sure in reply, and that will have to do.

In this messed up world, a lot of things would have to fucking do.

“Right,” Roy says, already moving to follow Jamie. “I’ll see you on the fucking pitch.”

---

A/N: This was supposed to be the fourth of the stand alone ficlets I call The Locker Room Conversations, but it got quite a bit darker (and less team focused) than I usually do for those, so I’m not sure. I’ll sit on it for a bit, maybe fiddle a little, and see where I put it when it goes up on AO3 eventually.

If you like the idea of the team uncovering sad truths about Jamie’s past and are into heavier angst (and more of the team taking care of Jamie), I highly recommend checking out i should be the poster kid for this shit by anotherlongstoryshort / babytarttdoodoo

[tinysnailtales]

Inuyasha Chapter 119

Kikyo's Arrow

Probably a 5/5 chapter. Continues to explore established themes and digs into the characters of Kikyo, Inuyasha, and Kagome and their “love triangle.” This chapter essentially is the "love triangle" manifesting in a physical fight while Miroku remains fixated on how Inuyasha's body will fuse with the demon's whether he wins or loses the fight.

There is not a lot regarding Inuyasha’s thoughts on the situation, at least not directly, but his actions enable us to draw conclusions about his feelings while also leaving some wiggle room for interpretation. Kikyo and Kagome are a more direct commentary on the dynamic between these three characters, with both girls coming at the situation with their own biased perspectives.

We get "'I've got to get Kikyo's body to a safe place!' If I don't, Inuyasha will continue fighting that demon, in order to protect her...because Inuyasha will never abandon Kikyo!" from Kagome and "Fool...now that you've shown up...Inuyasha has lost his reason..." from Kikyo.

Though Kikyo’s perspective is informed by her dislike for Kagome and her belief that Inuyasha prefers Kagome, she comes off as a more objective observer simply because she can tell that what Kagome says about Kikyo is true for Kagome as well: Inuyasha will never abandon her. Kagome’s reflections are also tainted by sadness–she is hurt by Inuyasha’s dedication to Kikyo–while Kikyo’s are more tainted by annoyance and anger.

Inuyasha fights to defend both girls, but when he notices Kagome is there, it does come across as his rage slamming into a wall of shock, like a weightier role of protector falls on his shoulders. His thoughts reiterate: "Blast it. My only choice is to fight!"

Kikyo’s presence made him think “Why is she here…?!” (which is also what Kagome thought) whereas Kagome’s feels more like “oh shit.” To be fair–her arrival means he now has to protect two people he loves.

Regarding Kikyo specifically, she continues to be a fascinating character. The poison imp steals the souls of the dead inside of Kikyo's body and declares: "The woman...she ain't human, eh? Then I'll make her part of me..." and so we get the continuation of the question: what is Kikyo? What are the impacts of death? How do souls factor in? Kikyo possesses a body made of clay; a fragment of Kagome/her original soul; and the stolen souls of girls who have died, but she is not human and not living. And now this demon, which consumes other demons, wants to make her part of it. Has Kikyo become a semi-demonic figure? She wanted Inuyasha to become human but has ended up becoming something not quite human herself.

This also connects back to Kikyo’s observations about Naraku in the previous volume: “The evil aura that permeates the castle…emanates from this man…?! What is this man?! I cannot feel any life force within his body at all. It’s as if he’s dead from the neck down.”

There’s a bunch of should-be-dead people in this love tangle (adding Naraku to the triangle), with demons giving Kikyo and Naraku new “life.” If the Shikon Jewel keeps playing out its own history in an endless cycle, I guess it is fitting that it now goes through the motions of that history with the dead like a haunting.