#hella belated

[fennel-tea]

the girls are fightiiiiiiiingggg

[araiz-zaria]

At long long last.... IT'S FINALLY DONE!!!!!! (╯‵Д′)╯︵┻━┻ I put this to rest when I was clueless on which part to work on next. Gouache artworks always take a long time to finish (I'd be lucky if I could get a fully rendered painting done within 4 hours or so), and I don't have enough motivation/patience so I always try to finish all my artworks within a certain amount of time. This painting however, exceeded the limits of of my motivation/patience. I was always reluctant to put my works to rest because more often than not I ended up neglecting them rather than finishing them *coughfausttobercough!*. This time, I was glad that the rest really worked on recharging my motivation/patience though, and yesterday I finally finished this painting. I don't know for how long I'll keep painting Buddy's birthday portrait, but I am for sure cherishing every painting I made of him to this date 🥺💙✨

[hyah-lian]

I am going on an adventure in the morning I am so excited less than 12 hours

[misty-wolf-draws]

💕Soft and Huggable💕

(*very late* Gift for my girlfriend)

[abductsanxiety]

two fried chickens chillin' on a couch, zero feet apart cause they're hella gay

(( belated bday art for @matesparkles ))

[teamstarkid-polls]

in (belated) honour of Trans Day of Visibility, the next tournament will be:

Who is the most trans Starkid character????

(obviously no trans person is MORE or LESS trans than another, btw. This is just for fun!!! Another way to phrase it is “who is the most widely understood/coded/headcanoned as trans Starkid character,” but that would take up HELLA space).

Anyway, the tournament will begin on Friday, so I’m giving you 5 days to submit your trans Starkid characters!!! You can either send them in through the ask function or reply to this post.

Have fun, everyone!!!

[nehswritesstuffs]

a good son, a better person

4969 words; for @gendervapor14, for whom I wanted to write this for their birthday, but it’s hella late, so Happy Belated Birthday and Merry Early Christmas; I often wonder about the psychology behind people like Sengoku bc it’s just so interesting how they compartmentalize things; I would recommend reading the original story this is derived from, as this is supposed to be a companion piece (the gist of it is it’s an AU where Corazón and Bell-mère live and then raise their canon foundlings (plus Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo) in Cocoyasi); might get a bit more edited further on but don’t expect much

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sengoku glanced over at the little boy sleeping soundly on his office couch, the lad completely tuckered out from the day he’d had. He had found him outside Mary Geoise, sobbing his eyes out and hungry, and he felt as though he’d had no choice but to take him in or else he would starve. The child had eaten two adults’ worth of food before falling asleep, completely ignoring the adults in the room.

“This is going to backfire,” Tsuru said calmly. She and Garp were there in their old friend’s office, having came immediately once they heard the news about the foundling. While she seemed to be there in empathy, all Garp was doing was eating rice crackers in glee.

“Brat’s a Fallen Dragon,” Garp scoffed. “The big bosses are gonna be pissed.”

“He’s just a boy,” Sengoku frowned. “He didn’t ask for this.”

“Whether he asked for it or not is not part of the equation and you know it,” Tsuru reminded him. She seemed so calm, despite the fact it was clear the boy wrapped up in the Admiral’s coat was putting her on-edge; both her comrades knew her long enough to be aware of that. “What happens when they decide they want him dead?”

“They wouldn’t want that… they don’t even want to look at him…”

“…and they might solve that risk by wanting him out of the equation for good.” Tsuru sighed and shook her head. “One of your worst enemies is not a Celestial Dragon, but their memory, not to mention their mercurial whims.”

“They’re so self-absorbed they can’t remember if they shat yesterday or not,” Garp guffawed through a cracker.

“Some of them,” Tsuru agreed, “but it’s the ones who do remember that are the problems.” She exhaled heavily and looked at the child. “You sure you want to raise him? Dragons are very particular, Fallen Dragons especially. There will be plenty of challenges.”

“I will raise him to be a great Marine; might even have more potential than Garp’s Dragon…”

“Ah; you’re just jealous I got a kid through the Academy and you didn’t,” Garp smirked. “My Dragon’s a stubborn shit though… might end up being more a wild card than me.”

“I can hardly wait,” Sengoku deadpanned. Another wild card out of the same gene pool that brought forth Garp was honestly one of the last things he wanted to experience, even if said genes were only working at half-power. He glanced over at the boy to see that he was curled up and shivering—a bad dream. With a sigh, he went to the boy’s side, sitting down so he could rest a hand against him, calming the lad instantly. Seas, he was tiny…

“What’s his name?” Tsuru asked. Sengoku blinked at that—huh, he hadn’t said it yet?

“Donquixote Rosinante,” he replied. He turned back to the boy and smoothed his mop of blond curls. “Don’t worry, Rosi. You’ll be safe with me.”

‘I’ve got your boy, Saint Homing; you’re going to be proud.’

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As it turned out, the Celestials did tolerate a Fallen Dragon being raised within a stone’s throw of their home. In fact, some of them even relished in the idea, the boy’s circumstances amusing them beyond what Sengoku could have imagined. He raised the boy to be a fine Marine, to be an advocate for Justice, to work hard and possibly even succeed himself in the place of Admiral. The boy even had friends within the system, just as Sengoku did, the lot of them pushing one another towards greatness.

There was one friend in particular, however, that Sengoku wasn’t entirely fond of. A year older despite being in the same class, she was from an Eastern backwater that never saw high or low of anything. She was trouble and he knew that from the start. It wasn’t until her that his boy started getting caught smoking, or was found with his uniform rumpled and out-of-place, or his mind started to drift elsewhere during lessons. Sengoku knew where—he too was only a man—but it worried him that this punk with a pair of sideshaves was causing a loss of focus… a lack of direction… and it brought worry that the Fallen Dragon was liable to slip further into something that he could not be lifted out from.

Then, one day, not long before his graduation ceremony, Sengoku’s boy took him by surprise.

Donquixote Rosinante wanted to take his brother down.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Before you go dark, there’s something I wanted to ask you, son.”

Sengoku watched as Rosinante stopped sorting his papers and contemplated turning to face him. The boy was too young and stubborn to be making such decisions, but since when did the young take their elders’ advice? Eventually, he went back to sorting.

“What is it?”

“That girl you were seeing while you were both cadets…”

“Bell-mère.”

“Yes. She was the one who took those orphans from Oykot and retired, correct?”

Rosinante’s hands began to tremble and he looked at Sengoku. “Why…?”

“I was thinking… and… do you think you can convince her to come back?”

“She’s not going to let the naval daycare raise those girls, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Rosinante replied. He went back to his personal papers in an attempt to seem too busy to talk. “Besides, she’s out of this game.”

“What if… she didn’t have to rely on the naval daycare?” Sengoku asked. The question hung heavily on the air, settling between them like a thick haze. “You know I’m old enough to retire.”

“You didn’t do anything for them before, so why start now?”

Sengoku knew the lad’s words were meant to sting, yet he didn’t feel anything. He was used to such accusations, after all. “As a member of the military, my hands are tied. However, as a retiree…” He trailed off, his eyes moving towards a messy stack of papers on his son’s bed. “I know how much she means to you.”

“You never seemed to care before this.”

“I was never sending my son into a demon’s den.”

Rosinante stopped going through papers, his hands shaky. “I’m going to come back, Dad, but before that I have to stop Doffy.”

“…and I don’t want that to take so long that they miss the opportunities they would have had if you were around… if I could help…”

“I already tried—she doesn’t want the girls raised on a base.”

“Then we can live off-base. Rosinante…”

“I’ll think about it,” the younger man said, tone almost a bit too sharp. “You know… they told me I had to go somewhere before heading over to Doffy to help cover my tracks. Maybe I’ll go there.”

“You will keep me informed, will you?”

His son didn’t answer and maybe… maybe it was for the best.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

To offer up one’s heart is a terrible thing.

They don’t know how precious it is, how precious they are, and can treat it casually and accidentally chip it.

Except, sometimes they know precisely how they should handle it, and that is by letting it slip from their fingers and shatter on the cold, hard ground. How could they possibly be in the wrong, when the one to blame is clearly you?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Did you talk to her?” Sengoku asked. The snail on his desk frowned.

“You shouldn’t know that,” it replied in Rosinante’s voice.

“I am the Fleet Admiral; not a lot gets past me.”

Silence—the snail seemed to muse sourly.

“I did what I went there to do.”

“Then, what did she say?”

“It… never came up.”

“How could it never come up? I thought you were there for a few days.”

“It just… didn’t.” The snail looked almost melancholy. “Gonna go dark for a bit. Catch you in about six months for my check-in.”

“Rosinante?” The snail lifted an eyebrow. “Be careful.”

The snail went to sleep and that was that.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Missing.

Tsuru assured Sengoku that her troops had scoured the island—Rosinante was nowhere to be found on Minion Island, let alone any of the other neighboring islands. There was evidence of Birdcage survivors in one of the houses, but the cooking fire was out cold and there were bear tracks outside—there wasn’t much hope for whomever had lived there, let alone anyone who might have taken shelter there in the meantime.

Sure, he had sent a letter of resignation, but without the ability to confirm the date, what did he have except a sense of hope that felt more false than anything?

There was no funeral, though there was a mourning period. Most people kept their distance from the Fleet Admiral whether they knew why he was testy or not. The only ones who really came around were Garp (annoyingly), Tsuru (at least she was supportive), and a teen who had been picked up on Minion… whose father had dragged him along when defecting from the military. It was an interesting choice, for Tsuru to bring the lad to Sengoku, and yet having the youngster around… it felt more right than it deserved to be.

To hell with Diez Barrels; if he wasn’t going to raise his boy to be the Marine he was destined to be, then Sengoku sure as hell would.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Time passed.

No word from any of the intelligence agencies about Rosinante. They must have looked through all the North Blue without uncovering a trace.

Drake grew into a fine Marine.

A child with a familiar name started gaining a name for himself in the North Blue via petty trouble.

Sengoku still felt lonely.

All anyone could do was carry on.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a lull in an otherwise stormy day when Sengoku got the mysterious letter, completely out of the blue. He stared at the envelope curiously. There was no return address, no identifying marks to inform him what was in his hands. It didn’t seem dangerous… and if it truly was, the sniffer snails would have caught it before it reached his inbox…

Carefully, he slid his finger under the envelope flap and broke the seal. Once opened, it yielded a folded-up piece of paper and a smaller envelope that was only folded shut. He opened the paper and began to read the letter, the author’s handwriting young and unfamiliar.

‘Fleet Admiral Sengoku,’ it read. ‘My name is Nojiko and I live on an island in a Cardinal Blue with my parents and little sister Nami. I have four brothers who you know about too, but I haven’t seen them in a long time.’

Huh…? Why was this girl writing him? How did he know her brothers? Who gave her access to his private office…?

‘Mom and Dad would be livid if they knew I wrote you. It’s not that we’re not allowed to contact you, but they don’t want to be found. I don’t think it’s about you specifically, but the people you are around. They don’t trust Navy Headquarters. To be honest? I can’t blame them.

‘Enclosed is a peace offering. Keep it safe. Consider this the only time we’ll talk unless my parents say otherwise or it’s an emergency.

‘With love,

‘Donquixote Nojiko’

Sengoku sucked in a breath—Donquixote?! He trembled as he picked up the other envelope and nearly cut his finger on the paper flap as he freed it and its contents.

There, clear as day, was a pair of photographs. The topmost one was not just anyone in the snail-captured image, but his son Rosinante all clean-faced and awkward limbs. He was wearing a nice suit that matched the other adult, someone that he had not seen in ages… the same one who his son had been involved with all those years ago. A pair of young teenaged girls were also there, throwing flower petals in the air. They were all smiles and laughter—it was a joyful day.

Sengoku missed his elder son’s wedding.

“Nojiko…” he whispered, looking at the photo. She must have been the teen with the darker skin and blueish hair—the kid with the ginger hair and pale skin looked like the younger of the two. Yes… these were the babies that the Cocoyasi woman left the military to raise… the ones she refused to bring on base longer than it took to be told there was little that could be done for them… his granddaughters.

Sengoku was missing seeing his granddaughters grow up.

Suddenly, a knock at the door shook him from his own thoughts. He looked towards the door and saw Drake, the younger man’s expression incredibly sheepish.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked. Sengoku blinked as he tried to remember why he summoned him—the shock of the letter had made him completely forget.

“Take a look at this,” he said, holding out the photo. Drake took it and stared, brow knitting in concentration. “That is Rosinante. Recently, I might add.”

“Where’d you get this?”

“The girl on the left sent it through the private channel.” Sengoku watched Drake as he studied the image.

“These… are my nieces, aren’t they?” the younger man asked softly. He seemed nearly in awe at the idea.

“If Rosinante had come home, they would have been, yes,” Sengoku confirmed. “My guess is that he wants some time away from Headquarters before returning. I wouldn’t blame him if that was the case.” At least, that was what he told himself.

“Their names…?” Drake seemed hesitant; could Sengoku blame him?

“Nojiko and Nami.”

“Then let’s hope Nojiko and Nami are smarter than their brothers.”

“With that mother of theirs? Not a chance in hell.” Drake passed back the photo, a pensive look on his face. “Then you really think those hoodlums in the North are the ones?”

“Without a doubt,” Sengoku confirmed. He looked at the other photograph now in his hand, one of the sisters with four young men who he knew were making a splash around the North Blue. Not enough to need bounties yet, but they were putting their marks on things nonetheless. Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, and Law, now joined by Nojiko and Nami; none of them looked like his eldest son, and frankly they were mostly of a better age to be Rosi’s younger siblings, yet he knew they were all the best chances he had at grandchildren. “That wasn’t why I called you here.”

Drake raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t?”

Sengoku shook his head. “I need to talk to you about SWORD.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“They did what?!” Sengoku went pale as Garp cackled on the couch and Tsuru stared him down. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” Tsuru replied. She laid a stack of reports down on his desk. “These are my findings after going on my usual rounds of the North. Seems like your grandsons are into the concept of freeing slaves.”

“Those boys have moral backbone—you should be proud, Senny,” Garp guffawed through his tea. “Wonder if they came that way or if Rosi had anything to do with it.”

“Damned if I know,” Sengoku said. He was going paler and paler with each line of text, going over the lads’ exploits. They were now gaining members to their crew and some of them may or may not have been former slaves. “They’re going to be the death of me.”

“No, just the death of the color in your hair,” Garp snarked. Sengoku resisted the urge to physically throw Garp out—the last thing he needed was to tussle with the man who regularly threw hands with the Pirate King and do so in his office. “How long do you think before Brannew catches on?”

“When I’m good and dead, with any luck.” Sengoku scowled. “Maybe if I threaten the Bounties Division, I might be able to pull something.”

“Pull what?” Garp snorted. “They’re a bunch of goddamned criminals no matter how you spin it.”

“Are you thinking ‘Alive Only’?” Tsuru wondered. Sengoku’s silence on the matter was rather telling. “You better have a damn good excuse for it before you go, or else you’re going to have more than just Brannew to answer to.”

“The son I found had a hand in raising these kids—I want to meet them first before it gets decided what goes on their bounties,” Sengoku rationalized. “I don’t care if the powers higher than me get their feathers ruffled. As Fleet Admiral, I need to know.”

“As a grandparent, you mean,” Garp teased. “They’re good boys; you should be proud.”

“What happened to them being ‘goddamned criminals’?” Tsuru deadpanned. Garp shrugged, barely able to contain his laughter.

Asshole.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As it turned out, Brannew didn’t ask for an excuse as to why issue the lads’ bounties as Alive Only. No one in Bounties even blinked at the suggestion. It was almost as though it was… expected…? Sengoku took it as a minor miracle and went back to his office as though nothing at all happened. All he did was ask Tsuru to keep him in the loop when it came to the rag-tag quartet out of the North and if he needed to get more involved. She did not respond, though within a month there was a dossier on his desk following a certain crew’s movements.

If this was as close as he could get, then so be it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Stay away from my children, do you hear me?”

“I’m the only thing keeping those kids from being hunted down like animals.”

“Wouldn’t that get in the way of Justice? You always did wear your guilt a little differently.”

The door slammed, Rosinante leaving in an instant.

Sengoku woke up with a gasp, nearly falling off the couch as he came to in his new (and still box-filled) office. Someone was knocking at the door; that explained that. His elder son’s words from the week prior rattled about in his brain as he lethargically got up to answer whomever disturbed his nap.

“You know, I always felt sorry for Garp growing up. I guess it’s his son and surviving grandson I should pity.”

He had spoken those words with a venom that Sengoku had never known from him—what had happened to his boy there in the East? Why was it so easy for him to walk away? He opened the door and saw the absolute last person he wanted to look at that current moment, his very presence the beginnings of a monster headache.

“What do you want, Garp?” His colleague had the biggest shit-eating grin he had seen on the man in a long time, which he was honestly too tired to be more concerned over. “Have Kuzan and Sakazuki worked out who’s replacing me yet?”

“Nah; I hear that’s probably gonna come to a duel. I’m here because of this.” Garp held up a newspaper that had been opened to the seventh page, a blurry photograph accompanying a rather concerning headline.

EX-NAVAL OFFICERS JOIN REVOLUTIONARY ARMY – INTELLIGENCE LEAKED?

“Seas below,” Sengoku cursed. He took the paper and looked at the article closer. “What the fuck does your boy have on mine that made them do that?!”

“I just got done running this through Intelligence—they’re there of their own accord,” Garp replied. “Them’s the breaks, Senny. You can try to raise them into good Marines, but can’t win ‘em all.”

“Garp…”

“Sometimes you lose ‘em to discontent and radicalization, and sometimes they’re smart and join SWORD. You learn to live with it…”

“Garp, do you realize what this means?!” Sengoku smacked the paper with the hand not holding it. “My son and his wife are working against us! Are you even able to conceive of the implications, or did your brain use all its ability to conjure up discontent and radicalization?!”

“Now that’s just mean.”

“I hope for both of our sake that Kuzan gets the Fleet Admiral spot,” Sengoku deadpanned. Garp simply shrugged.

“Got your kettle and rice crackers unpacked yet?”

A beat.

“They’re in the cupboard.”

Garp then made it his mission to push past his old friend and start putting together tea while chattering away, the empty words flowing over Sengoku as he instead looked again at the newspaper, the blurry—yet undeniable—photograph of Rosinante and Bell-mère underneath a Revolutionary Army flag almost too much for him to bear. He hated it, he hated how it made him feel, and he hated wondering what he could have done differently to prevent it. Eventually, Garp shoved some tea in his hands and started blathering on about something. Anything. Whatever it was that would keep his own thoughts at bay.

Was he truly no better than Garp? Was this how he felt? He sipped the tea and nibbled on rice crackers, hoping that the feeling would soon go away.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sengoku’s hair was beginning to gray when he got his next letter, the fact there was two at the same time nearly knocking him out of his chair. They were both slid into a pile of paperwork that one of Tsuru’s subordinates had delivered to him—there was no way it wasn’t at least partially her doing. They looked very similar, as though the senders had been taught the same way in school.

‘Inspector General Sengoku,’ the first one read. The handwriting was familiar—Nojiko.

‘I’ve been following in the papers what’s been going on with your work situation these past few months. It seems like you might now have some free time to possibly visit? Mom and Dad left me in charge of the farm and, although I have help and I get letters from some of them, it’s… difficult. I can do the work, don’t get be wrong, but I’m used to having at least one sibling and parent wandering around and now it’s just me.

‘What did you say to Dad and Mom that made them not come back home? One of their old work friends sent me a message saying that they were going to see you, and now… you know. Is it related to why we never really saw you growing up? Is it related to work? What’s going on?

‘Donquixote Nojiko’

Sengoku’s stomach twisted in a knot. What was he to tell this young woman? He placed the open letter down on the desktop and opened the other, hoping that it would at least be better news. The handwriting was unfamiliar; it wasn’t even the specific lettering he taught Rosinante and Drake to help conceal their communications. He opened the envelope carefully, unsure as to what he would find.

‘Grandfather,’ Sengoku’s heart skipped a beat, ‘Should we call you that? I dunno. Seems a little weird, but our family kind of is in general.

‘We’re going to visit our uncle’s for a while. Not the one who works with you, but the other one, who grew up with Dad and has the big house. We’ll check in with our normal uncle on the way. This might take a bit, because we don’t want Dad’s brother to know what’s going on. We wanted to tell you that in case… well… because our parents don’t know, and neither do our younger siblings. They’d all make too big of a fuss. You’re kind of a neutral party, you know?

‘Wish us luck! Our uncle can be pretty weird, but you know that.’

Sengoku let the paper fall out of his hand and onto the desktop, covering the one from Nojiko. It wasn’t signed, but he knew it was from one of the lads Drake had gotten on the snail. They were headed for Dressrosa…?! Why?! There was no way they were going to join him—either that or they had been extremely talented liars—and what hope did they have of opposing him?! How many good and loyal soldiers had they sent Dressrosa’s way, only for them to become swept up in his antics? There was only so much he could take…

A nudge at his arm and his pet goat bleated in a plea for a snack, glittering black eyes trained on the letters. Sengoku petted its head instead, drawing out a soft protest.

“No, not these ones,” he said. “Not until I know they’re safe.”

…because, really, what other choice did he have?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sometimes, love is rough. It’s distant and feels absent. Life tests it due to one reason or another and picking up the pieces can be as difficult as watching it shatter in the first place.

Did you do enough? Of course you didn’t. Was this how it was supposed to go? Never. Who was the one who allowed the veneer to crack and hairline fractures build and build before it began to truly hurt?

Except, you already know the answer, don’t you? Deep down in your bones, in your soul, and it aches something fierce on those silent nights where it doesn’t take the imagination much to conjure another possibility… a room full of noisy, happy people providing the exact thing that instead claws and festers in their absence.

It hurts sometimes, to love a family, and not entirely know if they love you back.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When Tsuru told him she was headed to Dressrosa to pick up Doflamingo and his cronies, it was all Sengoku could do to not immediately jump up from his desk and force his way on her ship. She knew she was inviting him—there would be no other reason why she was making mention of it now. With Garp off torturing the youngesters or whatever it was he did these days, it was good for the two of them to get work done without his antics… yeah… that was the excuse.

“You’re tense,” she claimed, watching as he kept his eyes on the horizon.

“Who’s tense?” he scoffed. “Dressrosa is nothing but beautiful women and wonderful food; nothing to worry about.”

Tsuru simply made a noise and left him to his devices, making it clear she didn’t believe him. How could she, when she knew it was not just Doflamingo on the island, but also the ones he had wanted to see for so long… to share a meal with… the ones who he could have had like she Kujaku… she pitied him, in a way, knowing that there was so much to contend with despite his desire to wipe the slate clean.

That was why he bowed, in fact. A sorry old man filled with regret on his hands and knees; he was a sight to behold in the one-room house, weeping openly as his grandchildren hugged him. First it was the bear and the young woman, then the pair who had gone undercover, and finally the now-former Warlord, having needed cajoling by the others to join in. It felt bittersweet, knowing he could have watched them grow from teens, from children, from babies, and now these adults—not much younger than his sons—had lost so much that he could never repay.

“C’mon! Youse guys gotta hurry!” The green-haired idiot who had come in to warn them about Tsuru began to usher everyone out, shivering at the sight of him. Eventually, it was only Sengoku, Rosinante, and Bell-mère in the house, the former never having felt so tired.

“Rosi…” he said softly. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” Rosinante replied. “It’s… complicated.”

“Will you at least quit the Revolutionary Army?”

“Pshh… no way,” Bell-mère smirked. “We’re finally doing something useful for a change; Dragon’s got the right idea. She nudged Rosinante with a twinkle in her eye; her sense of mischief from her cadet days had not waned. “I’ll see what the kids are up to; can’t let them have all the fun.” She left the house, leaving only father and son.

“Is she…?”

“Yeah; she’s telling the truth. We won’t be coming back.” Rosinante shuffled his feet slightly, looking down at the floor. “Listen… I…”

Sengoku didn’t let him finish before he was hugging him, the action taking the younger man by surprise. Rosinante didn’t know what to do with his arms, hunching slightly until he could cautiously hug back, knowing that it had been a very, very, very long time.

“I’m proud of you,” Sengoku said, voice threatening to break. “Follow this sense of Justice and be a better man than I ever was… better than Homing, even.”

“So you won’t hunt me down? Swear you’ll lock me up like Garp does to Dragon?”

“No.” He held his boy at arm’s length, simply glad to be looking at him again. “There’s a farm in the East I’ve been meaning to visit. I hear they grow some of the best mikan in the Cardinal Blues.”

“Something tells me you’re right.” Rosinante stepped backwards out of his grasp, letting Sengoku’s hands slip away. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“For now.”

“Depends on what’s waiting outside that door.”

At that, Rosinante turned and ran, hitting his head on the lintel before stumbling outside. Sengoku watched as the younger man floundered around until Bell-mère stopped him from falling over, catching her husband in a grasp that easily allowed her to pull him into a kiss that made all their present children visibly uncomfortable.

It was almost normal, the bonds they had out there under the sun. While Sengoku was proud, he was also envious. Despite working outside the law, they were all so good, while he honestly did not know what he stood for anymore. He watched as they vanished into the distance, waiting until they were out of sight before sitting on the bench outside the small house with his gaze towards the harbor. Everything was peaceful until the rubble from the town began to rise up and start flying around.

Issho did not have a chance.

[sentient-stove]

“He hugged me! He never does that, I literally have to schedule dinner with him weeks in advance.”

“Oh shit yeah, he’s definitely possessed.” Danny agreed as he stuck a hand into his thigh, pulling out the spare thermos he’d stored there. The cap was a bit dented but otherwise fine, meaning he could probably still use it. “Happens to the worst of them unfortunately. But at least ya got a haunt and ecto-expert here.”

Adrien’s face fell, shoulders slumping. “Is it too much to hope it was a belated change of heart?”

“Absolutely.”

“Bummer.” The teenage model said. “I was going to ask if I could maybe eat lunch with him tomorrow instead of in a month and a half.”

Wow. Danny was tempted to ask Adrien if he could switch Mr Agreste out for Vlad. Vlad would love actually having a kid who wanted his attention and mediocre parenting skills. He voiced none of this however, having enough tact to not stuff his foot in his mouth yet.

“Hella bummer. On the plus side, wanna trap your daddy dearest in a thermos with me?”

[kcalsforhim]

𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡ thursday 2 jan 2025

༄.°

hi the pics are of one day before because i didn’t take any good pics lol…none at all actually. i started off today on my treadmill again just like the previous day, or well

i went to the fridge and grabbed a bunch of stuff to flush down the toilet because i am aware my mom checks the fridge and sometimes even counts how much stuff is left, so i grabbed some stuff i knew i would realistically eat and flushed it away ; THEN i went on the treadmill untill she came home basically

i felt so dizzy and just sick lol. after my walk i called eli and i sat at my desk, i was exhausted and could barely get my words out. i grabbed my kuromi notebook and i drew some drawings of my oc’s, specifically ones i don’t draw that much cause i obviously have my favourites ehe…

during that, my mom came in and we discussed what to do, basically i’d help her cook and afterwards we’d go on a walk (we ended up not doing that LOL)

so after a bit more on my chair, drawing, i went downstairs to help her cook dinner. i seasoned all the food and helped prepare the cauliflower with her, she had already made the spinach. i also put the meat in the airfryer. it was done very soon

- a plate with 5 chicken wings, 3 drums, 2 flats ; 5 pieces of breaded cauliflower

- a bowl of spinach

- 3 dates, 1 chocoball

- 1 apple cut up, 1 banana cut up, covered in cinnamon

the food was soooooo good !! i seasoned it all and it all turned out hella bomb… there’s still some leftovers so i’ll likely be omad’ing that tommorow nyehehe… if i want.. guys i fucking love dates they’re so fucking GOOD. also 1 chocoball because they’re actually for me like nobody else eats this yet my mom insists on making the biggest batch known to man.

i actually originally had way more food on my plate but i put food of every category back except spinach. i had 2 extra wings, more cauliflower, and a whole entire extra apple, but i put all of those back T_T

i also feel super guilty about the fruit but… there’s worse things i could’ve had which i know i know is no excuse but in my defence the original plan was even more chocoballs and that kind of stuff and that didn’t happen ! hashtag yippy !

after dinner i drew and i relaxed and i uploaded some images to my site and im watching obsessive compulsive cleaners… its funny. tommorow im going out with a friendddd i hope i can get so many steps in ^_^ we’re buying belated christmas presents ! i actually got 0 christmas presents from my friends this year, only uggs from my parents and some feminine bathwash stuff and a pair of socks hehehe.. so im excited to get a gift from one of my friends T w T

stilll can’t sleep but oh well ! im sure ill get some sleep in soon… just can’t stop peeing cause i drank so much fucking water today it’s coming out of my nose LMFAO

listened to this song while colouring in one of my paper sketches earlier tonight ! it’s so whimsy and beautifullllllll i loooove kikuo <3

𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡ stats for today

streak ; 2 days binge free

steps ; 11.1 k

not happy with the steps, relieved i have over 10 k but if i wasn’t so lazy and i went outside with my mom i could’ve gotten more. happy im binge free, but disappointed in myself i had that fruit when i didn’t need it even when it was within my dinner eating window… tommorow more strict

༄.°

[femmmie]

Slipping

A belated Anthony's birthday fic... yes I have been listening to Linkin Park again lately, can you tell x) Anthony is unsure about his role at Smosh and is angsting and emoing about it.

read on AO3

words: 832

Anthony lies on his bed, listening to screamo. Wallowing in eternal overthinking, plotting and extrapolating. It always ends the same.

He wishes he could just take a nap and take a break from the world. Does that make him a bad friend? Doesn't Ian deserve more? He's always deserved more. But Anthony doesn't know of he can give it.

Finding his place at Smosh again was a journey. It's not the same. And he understands. But as the seasons are changing, Anthony feels his energy levels dip. His insecurities rise.

Is he even a real actor? Next to someone like Amanda or Chanse he's nothing. Is he even funny? People only have to look at Shayne and they're in hysterics. Only after making a fool of himself will people laugh at Anthony.

So what's left? What can he do at his company that he founded, but has so outgrown him? He can't even be bothered to give all his time to it, he has a second child - Pressalike - now. Stretched too thin. 

And then there's his personal life. Thanks to Brandon's scathing roast he's now trying out different hobbies, letting out his creativity without the product having to be good. It's about the process. That freedom actually allowed him to make beautiful things. But he's been scared of what he's painting lately. He doesn't even remember doing it, through the heavy haze of intoxication.

He feels like he is slipping. 

He hears his door. There's Ian.

"Happy birthday!"

Ian places what looks like an old radio on Anthony's side table.

"What's that?" Anthony asks, not moving from under his blanket.

"You'll have to come and see."

Alright. Only Ian can get him out of his slump. Anthony turns off the music and crawls out of bed. He is a bit embarrassed because he really needs a shower. But as he gets closer to the present, he realizes what it is.

"Whoa, Ian, those are so expensive!"

"Don't worry about it," Ian says, head tilted and eyebrows raised. "I think you will know what to do with this."

"Can I try it now?"

"It's yours, go ahead."

Anthony pushes the 'on' button and configures the instrument. Then, he moves his hands gracefully around it, not touching it. An eerie sound, much like you'd hear in an Alien movie, makes its way through Anthony's bedroom. Ian sits down next to him.

"That's hella awesome."

"Do you wanna try?"

"Yehess!" Ian tries it. Anthony watches him, leaning into him a bit on the bed. It's comforting.

"You have such small hands, Ian. No! It's cute! Don't look at me like that," he giggles. Ian is scowling, making the Theremin sound distorted. "Here, let me help you."

Anthony guides Ian's hands along the instrument, moving only ever so slightly. "There, isn't that so amazing?"

"Yeah..." Ian looks at him from up-close and Anthony is shocked - although he shouldn't be, he's known Ian forever - that his best friend's eyes are SO intensely colored.

"Thank you, buddy," Anthony tells him. "This means so much. First we were painting together, now we can form a band!"

"Just like old times, huh." Ian looks down again, luckily because that stare made Anthony's heart race.

"Yeah, just like old times..."

Anthony falls on his back onto the bed. "I'm sorry Ian, I've been a bad co-owner lately. I've kind of been letting you steer the ship entirely, while we'd said that I would put in an equal amount."

Ian lies down next to him. "I totally understand, Anthony. We have to find a new equilibrium, we will. And I've been flying solo for a long time, I can handle it. Just talking to you about it is already such a help."

"You really mean that? I thought I was weighing you down..."

Ian looks at Anthony again. For one of the first times, it is Anthony that looks away, though.

"You could never let me down, Anth. And of course this isn't the only thing I brought..."

Ian sits up again and takes a box out of his pocket. It's cigars.

"Fancy a smoke?"

"Uhhh YEAH," Anthony jumps up enthusiastically.

Ian hesitates, but then he says, "You smell really good, did you know that?"

"Really? I thought I needed a shower!"

"No, you don't, it's..." Ian inhales deeply. "I guess it smells like... just like you. Like Anthony."

"So I'm always stinky?"

"Shut up! I'm trying to give you a compliment."

They laugh.

It is the best gift Ian could have given Anthony. Not the Theremin. But the reassurance that Anthony is okay, that he can take some more time to figure it all out. A weight seems to fall off of his shoulders. And as he looks at Ian, the grown version of his best friend. A final form, so to speak. He is mesmerizing. The sunlight falls exactly into his eyes and it's like they are on fire.

"What are you staring at?"

"Nothing, let's get to the balcony."

[megumi-fm]

ceasar stabby week 🥰🥰

a happy belated ides of march to all my tumblr besties I hope you guys got to stab shitty rich people in power, or like a ceaser salad or a chocolate or something

💻 Internship Work // progress tracker

✅ overall script and folder setup ✅ sitehound debugging and setup ✅ fpocket analysis for all PDB files 🔁 pocketdepth shenanigans

🎓 Uni Stuff

✅ MSc Application (! one more down!)

💎 Ongoing SVT Brainrot

📺 GoSe2021 ⚡The performance that has me sold on Hoshi's Horangi agenda

🍰 Other Things This week

🎰 Went to an arcade with my bestie <3 📖 Read the Kamogawa Food Detectives!! it was such a cute book it made me hella hungry though xD 🎶 soundtrack of the week: Drama 🤝 Baddie 🤝 Eenie Meenie 🤝 the Holy Trinity of it-girl kpop

----

[Mar11 to Mar 17 ; week 11/52 || time is going way too fast. short entry for this week but i have made some scary plans for this month so hopefully the next entry is a bit more eventful... I've been saying I'll do a lot of stuff but I haven't been able to commit... I really hope I stick to the new plan as much as I can. it's that time of the year where I gotta start finding new ways to keep myself accountable, brr]

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Boop and happy Halloween 🎃

Happy belated Halloween! I'm not dead, I just had a nasty cold and was hella busy Hope you all were safe and spooky!

[valent1neg0d]

heyy x, i was just wondering if states can be more than one thing. For example, can i manifest having a really colse bestfriend, having an ethereal like beauty and being a top H1 student in my classes? i know this i kinda random but i am really new to the loa and there is a wealthy of knowledge out there ands its kinda hard to sift through.

i really love your posts, they’re helping me out alot!! Im also following along on your states and revisions challenge that you actually anounced on my birthday 😭.

Again thank you so much and have a great day xx

definitely! you can be in the "god state" ,which to me, means that you have everything you want, you get everything you want, you are the most powerful one, etc.

my sister is doing this "idol state" for a month, which to her, means that she is on top of her game with school and "practice" and she is posting stuff to interact with her audience (and getting hella clout for it), she receives free stuff and sponsors reach out to her, all that. because that's what having an "idol" identity means to her.

hope that helps and belated happy birthday, lovely!

[greenthena]

Happy Belated Re-wire-your-brain-o-versary

I didn't show up here until September of last year, but in these past ten months, Good Omens and this fandom have crept in and made their mark on my life.

I started writing again. This seems like a common theme and that makes me so happy. We're a fandom that is so encouraging to our fan authors and artists. And good for us! I hadn't written in twenty-three years. That's the exact length of time I was in my last relationship and I just didn't have the emotional energy to spare during that time.

But I'm back, bay-bee. Writing meta and fanfic and actually starting a journal to process some...stuff...these have been the outlets that have helped me carve a fresh furrow that I like much better than the ditch where I lived before. I've clocked about 100,000 words in all, and that's after decades of staring at a blank page and not even knowing where to begin.

Because of my writing, I got to meet wonderful people and even make some really good friends.

And because of all sorts of things that tumbled out of getting invested in a story that spoke to me, I finally began the process of a long-overdue divorce (he's not awful or anything, just doesn't like me at all my intensities and also...turns out...I'm hella gay. Ooops.)

So to all of you, thanks for hanging out and making art and writing and just being here. My brain is very different than it was last year at this time. Satan, so different. It's been a year. And I'm glad for it.

[masculinemiracles]

This is hella belated my b but happy birthday!!!

Is oki!!! Thank youuuuu!!

[x-stephanie-sinnz-x]

Mark and his fellow officers helped give my husband a very special birthday.

This started on Friday night when Mark texted me.

He said he can oblige me, (in responding to my question awhile back, I asked him "if he had any other police buddies willing to join?")

  Remembering that we hadn't celebrated my husband's birthday because we both had covid at the time of his actual birthday, I asked Mark if it was okay for my husband to join.

He's response was "yeah. That's cool,".

My husband was very excited and on the car ride to Mark's house, his hand was on my pussy which I remember feeling really good. Eventually we get to Mark's house and we see several police cars, SUVs, and a couple of regular cars in the driveway and in the street.

As we walked in, I introduced Mark to my husband.

Mark lead us to the kitchen were 10 other men where standing around, all ranging from aged 35 to 70, in various stages of undress.

They all cheered happy birthday!!!!

My husband smiled and quickly their hands started touching and undressing me. One of them kissed me and I immediately became complicit and willing to do whatever.

I have to apologize to you guys because I'm a pothead, and before we arrived I ate some edibles and vaped a hella wax, so from here it all became somewhat of a blur, and I had no idea where my husband was during most of this.

We where there from about 12am until 11pmish when the last guy was finished using me and left.

I don’t remember the order of what happened or when it happened but below I’ll just tell you what I remember.

- I was on my back on a bed, blindfolded and handcuffed above my head. Someone was fucking my throat, slobber all over my mouth. Someone was sucking my toes, someone else was fucking me as someone sucked on my right breast and someone sucked on my left breast.

- at some point I was face down over a bench/footstool thingy, throat being fucked as someone was balls deep in my pussy. Both hands were being used to jack 2 guys off.

- I was lying on the ground in the bathroom in the fetal position as a group of them pisssed all over my face and body. One of them shoved it into my mouth and forced me to swallow it.

- At one point my husband was cuddling me in a bed, stroking my hair telling me how awsome I am, how proud he is of me, how I was the perfect slutwife. And I loved the praise.

- One of them had this huge, and I mean huge dildo! Like 12” plus. I remember being on the floor in the living room with them sitting around jacking off as I struggled to get this massive dildo in me. They were cheering me on while I moaned and screamed as it stretched my pussy until I eventually succeeded. One of them got fed up of waiting, pinned me down by the throat and rammed it all the way up my cunt. I literally screamed a high pitch wail. I’ve never felt so full in my life! He then picked me up and sat me on a stool so it stayed fully in me and proceeded to fuck my throat to stop me from making noise.

- I remember being carried up the stares, limps practically lifeless with my energy fucked out of me, and having 3 men follow the guy carrying me. Each of them staring at me like I was their lunch and they hadn’t eaten in days. That was probably the most horny I was the entire time because I knew my husband was getting a good birthday present, he knew that each of the men near me were going to fuck me until they came.

- I remember a really fat guy, like obese and horrible, he kept shoving his cock down my throat and holding it there until I couldn’t breath.

- I remember one guy threatened to get his police k9 but he never did. I think he was just trying to scare me, lol.

- I remember getting triple stuffed. I had a dick in my pussy, one in my ass, and one in my mouth, as I jerked off one in each hand.

  I had a great time, and my husband had a great belated birthday.

I got home so exhausted that I fell asleep on my husband, but that didn't stop him from using me as his personal fuck doll.

  Stephanie Sinnz ❤️