#its very much a “boys club��� situation

[bigfatbreak]

been a long week. we'll see if i overstepped at work and am gonna get myself shitmixed/scolded but in the very least, my girls at work should have a better foothold on things

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Bucking Bronco✨

@bat-boness keeps fucking cooking with their Cowboy Lucifer art and I shall do the same!!! @nayomi247 and @liveontelevision this is your fault too lol, we have now formed a small but mighty Cowboy Lucifer cult fan club

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: Lucifer finds himself in a punishing situation…

Warnings: 18+, smut, hand job, oral (m receiving), p in v

“You know, this wouldn’t be happening if you would come in from the farm on time, Luci,” you scolded as you finished tying the last knot on his wrists. "I don't think I ask for much."

This was the third night in a row your hardworking husband has missed dinner with you. You let it slide the first night. The second night you gave him a gentle reminder to not overwork himself. But tonight was the last straw. A third night of eating alone with a cold plate of food sitting across the table from you. You loved him dearly, but you hated that his priorities didn’t seem to be in order. You were going to make sure he learned his lesson one way or another. He tried to butter you up as he usually did when he came in from work late, knowing full well what he'd done. You feigned a smile and told him not to give it another thought. You told him to get comfortable and that you would join him upstairs soon. But when you walked into your room with your rope in hand, he gulped. He knew damn well that he was in trouble. You sat him down on the ottoman and wrapped your ropes around his hands and wrists, pinning his arms behind his back, effectively rendering him helpless against your ‘punishment’.

“Darlin’, I-I’m sorry, time just gets away from me sometimes! I-I would never do anything to upset you,” Lucifer stuttered. “P-Please, have mercy…”

You checked the tightness of your ropes before standing in front of your husband, towering over him in his subdued state. “Oh, I’m not upset with you! But since you’ve just been working so hard lately, I thought it’d be mighty kind of me if I helped you relax.” You brought your hand to his chin and had him meet your intense gaze. “Do you want me to help you relax, sweetheart?” you asked, knowing all too well that there was only one answer he could give you.

“Y-yes,” Lucifer responded meekly.

"That's my good boy," you praised, a small whimper escaping Lucifer's throat. You slowly dragged your hand down his open-shirt chest, stopping right above his already very apparent erection. He did his best to buck his hips up in an attempt to create any sort of friction. But all this did was cause you to pull you hand away from him immediately. He whined pathetically. "Behave now," you reprimanded. Lucifer looked up at you with glassy eyes and nodded obediently. You smiled and brought your hand back down to its previous spot, hovering just about his hard-on. You heard Lucifer's breath hitch as you finally placed your palm over his cock that has been painfully straining against his jeans. It took every ounce of willpower in him to remain still while you toyed with him.

"P-Please," Lucifer mewled, "I-I can't...hng..."

You pulled down the zipper to his pants lethargically, watching Lucifer's chest rise and fall more and more rapidly until you finally released his already leaking cock from its confines. "I love how needy you are for me, sweet pea." You gripped his length in your hand and started stroking him meticulously. Lucifer's whines filled the room, you've never heard sweeter sounds than his desperate cries. His precum leaked onto your hand, your jerking motions becoming smoother. You circled your thumb over the head of his cock, applying the lightest of pressure to it. Lucifer cried out as he bucked his hips once more from your teasing. You let go of him again, tears now welling up in his eyes from the loss of your touch.

"I'm sorry!" Lucifer nearly shouted. "D-Don't stop, please...I'll behave, I-I promise!"

"That's strike two, Luci," you warned. "You wouldn't want me to leave you like this, would you now?"

"N-No! Please...", a single tear rolled down his face. You smiled gently and wiped it from his cheek.

"Shh, it's alright," you cooed, "patience, my love. I'll take care of you."

He took a few deep breaths, attempting to calm himself down. He knew deep down you wouldn't leave him in such a desperate and vulnerable state. You knelt down on the ground, gripping his shaft once more. You stuck out your tongue and licked up the length of his cock, tasting all the precum that had spilled out of him. Lucifer's voice caught in his throat; he was beyond forming any coherent sentences at this point. He struggled against his binds, losing grip of his control fast. Your tongue circled his swollen tip, eliciting the smallest yelps from your lover, your hot breath driving him insane. You enveloped him suddenly, bobbing your head up and down, taking as much of him as you could. Lucifer was frozen, he dared not move again in fear of the repercussions. Instead, he was loud, moaning and whining from everything you were giving him in this moment. You let him go with a satisfying pop, flashing a mischievous grin.

"Tell me what you want, sugar," you teased him as your hand replaced your warm mouth. "Use your words."

Lucifer's hat had fallen in front of his face, you could no longer see his eyes. You lifted it up only to see them glowing a bright crimson red, his hunger for you now abundantly evident. "N-Need you," he choked out, "need to feel you, n-now. Please...ride me..."

You smirked at him and nodded. You stood up once more, removing your belt in one swift motion and tossing your shorts off so the side, your soaking pussy now in full view. Lucifer gulped audibly. You straddled yourself against Lucifer's hips, teasing his cock with your dripping folds. You decided to wear his hat on your head instead so that you could clearly see the disheveled mess of a man beneath you. He blushed hard at the sight. You leaned down and planted the tiniest peck to his forehead.

"Now, are you going to be late again?" you questioned playfully.

"N-No," Lucifer promised. "I'll come in from the farm on time, I-I swear! You'll never w-wait for me again!"

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear." You lined yourself up and slowly lowered yourself onto him, taking him an inch at a time. He was thicker than most, so he knew you needed just a little bit longer to adjust to his abnormal size. Not that you minded in the slightest, he was able to hit all of the right spots without even moving. Once you bottomed out on his cock, you both let out a wanton moan. After a few seconds of letting yourself stretch around him, you began to shift your hips. Your sudden movements forced Lucifer to lean against the crook of your neck for support. He felt as though you were trying to milk him dry. Which is exactly what you were doing.

"F-Fuck, Lucifer," you stuttered, "always making me f-feel so good, baby. Look s-so pretty under me..." Lucifer could barely hear your praises over his own sounds. This was pure bliss, but agonizingly torturous at the same time. His bound hands were eager to touch you, to hold you, to feel you.

"My love, please, I-I'm begging, let me go..." he cried into your shoulder. "I'm so so sorry, I-I...please..." You stopped your movement completely and started gently petting the back of his head. How could you deny him any longer?

You reached down and grabbed the sheathed blade that adorned his hip. "Stay perfectly still," you commanded, reaching around and carefully slicing the ties around his arms and wrists, letting the rope fall to the floor. You tossed the knife far away from you while Lucifer's hand immediately gripped your hips.

"T-Thank you, darlin'," he whispered against you, "let me make it up to you now. S-Show you how sorry I really am." Without warning, Lucifer lifted you up only for him to slam you right back down on his throbbing cock. The cry you let out was lustful and wanting. His hips bucked up into you at a relentless pace, your cunt clenching around him desperately while you both chased your highs. You dug your nails into his shoulders for support as he pounded into you over and over. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach growing larger, threatening to snap any given second as your lover pushed you to your breaking point with each thrust.

"L-Luci," you whimpered helplessly, "I'm close, s-so close, mmph, fffffuuu-uuuccck..." Your pleas only seemed to drive him even madder than he already was as one of his hands left your hips, his thumb finding that small sensitive bundle of nerves. You nearly screamed from the new sensation.

"Me too, sweetheart, m-me too, shit,' Lucifer breathed. "Cum f' me, l-let me feel you cum around me..."

With those words, stars clouded your vision. You felt your cunt pulsate around Lucifer's cock, tightening and squeezing him without abandon, your juices leaking onto his lap. Your orgasm pushed your lover over the edge as well, his grunts and whimpers echoing throughout the room as he filled you up to the brim with his hot seed, having to bite down your shoulder as to not lose himself in the pleasure. As you both started to recover from your highs, you cupped Lucifer's face in your hands and brought him in for a deep kiss. Your tongues fought for dominance, still trying to catch your breath in the process. You pulled away from him, his half-lidded eyes gazing up at your adoringly.

"You owe me a new rope," you chastised lovingly.

~~~

I have no real excuse for this :3

[weebsinstash]

I'm not typically a fan of pregnancy au stuff for hazbin because it introduces a hell lotta new questions, but anyways, I DO find it absolutely entertaining thinking about a Reader who did the nasty with Alastor and had kind of a friends-with-benefits situation with him and he does his whole 7 year disappearing act without warning you or telling you anything at all (assumedly because he did not have a choice or opportunity) and he comes back, knocking on your front door, "say, doll! What's say we mosey on over to our old favorite jazz club to catch up on old times?"

and suddenly peeking out from behind your back is just the cutest little fawn with a head full of curls who is very clearly Alastor's son, clutching at your apron, "Mama, isn't he the man you listen to those old recordings of? He sounds the same"

Alastor feeling this, this WARMTH in his chest as you invite him inside your home and it's completely different from the last time he was there, filled with everything your son could need, his drawings and report cards from that nice school you break your back to afford stuck lovingly on the fridge and a hot home-cooked meal currently cooling on the stove as Alastor's invited for some food... if he feels comfortable. You and him discuss privately where your son can't hear as you get all weepy, "I'm sorry, but when you disappeared, I couldn't... ASK you what you would have wanted... I didn't want to have some kind of, of PROCEDURE and you hate me for it... and even from the very first scan, I loved him so much... he's my entire world... I couldn't even CONSIDER... getting rid of him. He's my beautiful smart baby boy and i would die for him"

Genuinely I think it would be real funny if Alastor is initially quite jealous actually for having to share you with a CHILD, but the more time he spends around the young boy, the more he realizes, oh, this is quite the upstanding young fellow! His mama raised him right and he likes to help around the house, likes to read lots of books, loves all kinds of music, helps his mother on all the crosswords and word searches and puzzle books, and he's smart enough to suss out pretty quickly, "sir are you my father"

and the second your son receives an answer, just, KICKING THE RADIO DEMON IN THE SHIN, "You're a horrible man!! You call yourself a gentleman but you left my mama to raise a baby all by herself!! You're terrible! Incorrigible! Disrespectful! Untoward!--" Your young son is breaking out the goddamn dictionary and synonyms on this man, "you lying, deceitful, devious, DEPLORABLE--"

And Alastor is watching this little kid threaten to beat his ass and not even caring that he's up against The Infamous Radio Demon, just shouting at Alastor until the young boy is absolutely changing colors in the face, getting SO SO upset for his mama that he's ready to FIGHT OVER IT, and Alastor is just, essentially, breaking out into laughter, "oh, so you ARE my son!! Aren't you a gutsy one!! Put JUST a little force behind that next one and it might actually sting a bit!" and pats the boy on the head. That settles it; he's accepted as Alastor's son like THAT

Of course, Alastor now caring for this boy does not come without its... complications. There might be some 'incidents' if you, for example, have other positive role models for your son, other men who are regularly coming around, making Alastor's new position as the boy's father and your not-quite-husband (yet) feel threatened and unstable and encouraging the Radio Demon to 'act out'. You're so happy to have Alastor back in your life that you don't even notice things are a little off until your son starts mentioning things like "Mama where did Mr Thomas go? He used to come by every Thursday to play chess but I don't remember seeing him for a while?" "Mama I know Benson has bullied me and pushed me down and stolen my things but I saw his mom crying outside the bookstore earlier saying he's gone missing and I think we should help look for him" "Mama I know Mr Alastor said we don't need her and he can teach me but I also like my old piano teacher. Could I have some lessons with her and some with Mr Alastor instead of just all of them with him? I miss Ms. Mason"

But like... you don't want to deny Alastor a relationship with his child after they both have already lost so much time and you don't want to deprive your son of his father without a good reason, so you stifle some of your suspicions. It's all for your son's sake, isn't it? And you can't help but, get a little selfish when Alastor insists on taking you and your boy out, going to see live bands, going to local events, taking your son to the county fair and you feeling tears in your eyes as, your boy finally gets to spend time with his father. It's like... it's like you're a real family... you've always wanted something like this, for him, for them, for yourself--

But... Alastor doesn't... see you THAT way, does he? He displays his emotions much differently than you, and there were even times in the past where Alastor himself drew the line in the sand that, oh yes you two were quite close friends, he has such a deep affection for you, but... romantically? Sorry, sweetheart, but no

... or so he thought. Now that he's back, he sees how deeply you love his son and sacrifice so much for him amd how much your son absolutely adores you and how, completely by yourself, without any of Alastor's help, you raised him into a fine young man that... the Radio Demon could see himself helping raise, a boy he can't help but feel a little pride in helping make and, can't help but feel a little sad he missed all sorts of important milestones for. And of course, of course of course of course, he missed YOU ever so much, and when Alastor looks up from his paper to see you at the stove, hair all out of place and your hands messy as you cook a meal for your son and his father, your little boy dutifully helping clean as you go, he can't help wish that THIS was how he spent his last 7 years.

Lucifer have mercy on anyone who tries to disrupt his new utopia of peace and tranquility. Could you even imagine, could you even fucking imagine you and Alastor are walking with your son and nearby TVs snap on and it's fucking Vox, showing your family on TV, talking shit to Alastor, using HORRIBLE language in front of your son--

And Alastor feels his love for you grow all the more as you use your own magic to surge through the television and begin strangling the newscaster right on the air, "DONT YOU DARE SHOW MY SON'S FACE ON TV YOU FUCKING--" and Alastor starts lovingly conversing with his son about how important it is to stand up for your family and your values as the pair of them watch you throw Vox around his recording studio in a frenzied rage, "You and your disgusting Vees always trying to peddle your worthless garbage to kids, you CREEPS!! BABIES DON'T NEED IPADS, RETINOL CREAMS, SKEEYEE DANCE ROUTINES, AND ATHLEISUREWEAR LEGGINGS THAT GO UP THEIR ASS, YOU CONSUMERIST IMMORAL SHELL OF A HUMAN BEING--"

Snapcut to you rejoining your family on the sidewalk with your hair a mess and visible blood on you while Vox is facedown on the floor in his broadcast unable to move before it cuts to a "technical difficulties, please stand by" screen. Alastor is oh so genuinely joyfully smiling, "Now who wants to go and get some waffles? I say we should celebrate any victory over our enemies with some tasty grub!!" and he takes you and your son's hands and is all but skipping down the sidewalk while his hated rival is bleeding out in his tower somewhere. Oh, Alastor will give the Television Demon his own revenge for daring to try and shame the lovely beautiful mother of his child and his beloved boy on that disgusting show. What kind of degenerate uses children for content, let alone threatens their safety? Alastor will be back for him later and do much, MUCH worse than you did.

For now, though? Alastor just wants to enjoy the sight of you and his son sitting in a booth with him while you all scarf down some hotcakes. A family of his very own, huh? How wonderful. If only his own mom were here to see it...

[spacedace]

Got another dc x dp writing prompt blurb thing for yall (this time featuring TimKon)

Elle declaring herself Queen of the Clones as a joke because Danny is the Ghost King and she should get a fun title too and accidentally making herself effectively the god of clones across all dimensions as a result.

Elle being suddenly aware of all the clones in existence in a vague way, but able to "tune in" on specific ones, or suddenly becoming aware when a clone is in serious trouble.

Elle deciding, fuck it, she's gonna take care of all the clones that need taking care of, turning her haunt in the Ghost Zone into a place of safety, using her new abilities as God Queen of Clones to make it so whenever any of them need help they get pulled to her Haunt instantly.

Connor getting mortally wounded in a fight, saving the day but getting buried in rubble away from where anyone would be able to dig him out in time to save him and suddenly being Somewhere Else.

Connor getting saved by Elle and the yetis, but having amnesia from the severe headroom (he can't remember anything except maybe the face of a boy his age, dark circles under sharp blue eyes, a wry smile, the understanding that Connor was in love with whoever the boy is or was).

Elle not being able to tell where Connor is from, her Haunt just pulls clones in trouble in when they need her help, there's no sending address or anything like that. And he was in such bad shape its not like she trusts that sending him back to where ever he's from is even safe to do.

Connor being one of the permanent residents of Elle's haunt (she always tries to find the clones that end up there a place of their own, getting Clockwork to de-age them and a good family to love them for those that want that, a spot in Amity where clones don't even register as anything weird, or just back to where they came from but now with the promise of somewhere to call home and a new family of clones to care for them) and ends up with the title of her knight or champion or something along the way, looking after everyone when Elle is off traveling and generally being vice-president of Clone Club

Elle getting captured by the GIW while out seeing the world, unable to escape but at least able to alert her family that she's in trouble.

Danny and the Pham not being able to break in because of all the upped security keeping away anything ghostly or ghost adjacent

Connor and a group of the clone club rallying to get Elle out themselves, breaking in and releasing as many ghosts as they can and destroying as much as they can and oops the Justice League has shown up

Connor not having powers in the Ghost Zone and being very freaked out when he punched Superman in the face and sent him flying a hundred yards, surprising the Clone Club with his super strength and surprising the League with his surprise about his super strength and frantic apologies to Superman for yeeting him across an open field (up to this point they assumed this was another evil clone situation Lex cooked up but now aren't so sure).

The GIW ends up closing in to attack the clones who just got Elle back and need to make a break for it before the portal back closes while that's happening and Connor decides to be self-sacrificing and give them cover, so they can escape.

Connor surrendering to the Justice League before the GIW can grab him once everyone else is free and clear, because he knows Elle and the other Clones will break him out and that's gonna be a lot easier if he's not in GIW custody

Tim and the Young Justice gang losing their God damn minds because that's Connor?? Maybe?? He doesn't remember them or the Justice League or Superman or anything but it has to be him right? They never found his body, Tim had been so sure he was still out there alive somehow - had lost weeks and months to maddening grief, desperately searching for some sign that Connor was out there somewhere - and now here he is!

Connor refusing to talk to the JL, low key trying to figure out if they actually do know who he is or if it's a trick - the Pham's stories of what they've all had to deal with and his own recent raid on the GIW has left him with a healthy suspicion of anything government related and the JL may not be with the GIW but they sure as hell are still government goons as far as he's concerned.

The main league being worried that it's mind control or a clone scheme or something like that and not really being sure what to do. There's too many questions about what happened to him, where he's been, what he was doing in that raid on that government facility - there's questions too on just what kind of facility that was, and a new case has already been opened on that whole can of worms - and Connor (if it is Connor) isn't answer their questions.

So they put him in a cell with some Kryptonite to make sure his powers are suppressed - half out of concern that him surrendering to them is a scheme, half terrified that if he really doesn't know he has powers anymore that he'll accidentally destroy the Watchtower with a sneeze. They make sure it's comfortable, he did apologize about punching Superman in the face - a lot, actually, it was pretty much the only thing he had said the entire time, along with very concerned questions on if the Man of Steel was okay - and while there's something strange going on, if it's mind control then they'd rather Connor come back to himself somewhere decent.

And no one is supposed to talk to him alone, or outside of a formal interrogation or without Wonder Woman there in case Connor gets hostile - even with the Kryptonite, they can't be too careful - but that's not going to stop Tim. His best friend is alive, there isn't a power in the universe that's going to keep him away.

Connor doesn't recognize him. Except that he does. It's weird, because his only memory has been the face of that boy, but there's also just something so familiar about Red Robin and it's the first familiar thing he's known since waking up in the Far Frozen over a year ago.

For awhile it's just Tim talking, trying to get Connor to remember, trying to do anything he can to prove (to everyone, to himself) that this really is Connor. And after over an hour he's nowhere near ready to give up, but he is maybe ready to go and have a breakdown in a supply closet for a bit, when Connor finally starts talking back.

He doesn't say much - he's suspicious, even as he becomes more and more sure that Red Robin is someone to him - but he does start talking and, it's nice. Familiar.

And just as he's considering actually telling Red Robin something - everything, really, Connor's always been a sucker for a cute boy that looked one more cup of coffee away from a psychotic break - the cavalry arrives. Ghosts everywhere, causing a distraction and looking for Connor and maybe just having a little fun fucking around for a bit while they're at it.

(Constantine is trying to sneak off to smoke somewhere he won't end up getting lectured like he's a disobedient school boy, opening a door to come face to spectral bellybutton with Fright Knight. He decides maybe Bats is right and he should quite smoking as he - fruitlessly - closes the door again without a word.)

Wulf is ready with a portal and Technus is in control of the station and the cell door opens just as Lunch Box appears to phase the cuffs off Connor (and maybe steal some of that delicious rock candy that was in those cuffs for some reason, her parents won't let her have any back at home and she's helping the royal family get one of their loyal knights back, she deserves a little treat) and it's time to go.

Tim's ready to throw down, terrified that whatever the hell these things are they're going to take Connor away again, but just as he's working out a plan on just how he's going to fight something that can walk through walls, disappear and fly (and eat fucking Kryptonite), he suddenly finds himself being thrown over Connor's shoulder and being carried through a terrifying rip in space and time to another dimension.

Conner can admit, as he lands back in Elle's haunt with all the ghosts streaming in behind him as the portal closes and the Clone Club rushing forward to check on him and Red Robin still slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes (a cute sake of potatoes, though) he might not have thought this one through.

Kidnapped by his amnesiac and possibly mind controlled best friend and dragged to hell(?) aside, Tim's just happy Conner brought him with him this time. Batman and the rest of the League, still reeling from what just happened, are not nearly as happy with that fact.

[vinegarss]

47news interview with Tamifull

Earlier this month Tamifull, the author of Tsukiatte agetemo ii kana? AKA How Do We Relationship?, did an interview with 47news. I've translated the full text below:

Out of the innumerable manga published every year, there are always a few titles that one simply can't afford to miss. Tamifull-sensei's How Do We Relationship? (Shogakukan) is one of these. It's a story of young love and heartbreak, centering on college students Inuzuka Miwa and Sawatari Saeko. Though fiction, it has a powerful sense of reality that leaves one feeling as if the real Miwa and Saeko might just be out there somewhere right now. If Agasawa Tea's Ramparts of Ice (Shueisha) is the pinnacle of high school romance, then How Do We Relationship? is the pinnacle of college romance. With the help of supervising editor Watanabe Saori-san, we were able to secure an interview with Tamifull-sensei to discuss the story--now on its 12th volume, and at the height of its climax.

The story so far:

Soon after starting college, mild-mannered beauty Inuzuka Miwa joins the light music club and finds herself the center of attention from the boys at the welcoming party. Miwa, who "only likes girls", is rescued from the situation by the energetic Saeko. Saeko, who "prefers women (to men)", buoyed by liquid courage, asks Miwa out on the spot and the two begin dating. But the two are clumsy and inexperienced with love, and fail to be fully honest with each other. By the end of the year, their romance has ended in disaster. After maintaining a sex-only relationship for some time they return to being friends and even move on to new partners... Finally, as their respective relationships have both ended, the two look at each other anew, not as lovers, but as exes, and as absolute allies.

47: How Do We Relationship? has a very unusual structure. Shoujo manga tend to portray a dramatic path to the start of the relationship, but Miwa and Saeko begin dating at the very start of volume 1 and break up in volume 4. As we're now on volume 12, they've actually been exes longer than they were together.

Tamifull: Well, it has stretched a little longer than I expected (laughs), but the story is proceeding as planned from the start. I think rather than starting decisively with some sort of "All right, I'm falling in love now!" moment, real love tends to build up out of small things over time. I didn't want the relationships in How Do We Relationship? to start in this exaggerated, romance story kind of way.

47: And that helps with its sense of reality.

Tamifull: I don't believe dating and breaking up are things that we need to think about in such dramatic terms. It's easy to feel like every relationship has to be perfect, or that you need to have some sort of fated encounter, or that breaking up is a bad thing, something hopeless. Why shouldn't there be manga that throws away those stereotypes? Life is so much longer than a single relationship. It keeps going after you start dating someone, or break up with them. I think that's a message that I've consistently tried to tell with this manga.

47: Can you tell us how it got to be serialized?

Tamifull: It started out as a oneshot I did for Comitia (a doujin festival and marketplace in Tokyo) in 2017. Up until then, I had mainly been drawing yuri--manga about relationships between girls. And I wanted to tell a little bit of a different story at that event. Doujinshi are generally about 20 pages, so usually you introduce the main couple, have them confess, and wrap it up right around there. So I thought, what if they're already in a relationship and we watch them break up? I was basically thinking, "why not draw what I want to read!?"

Watanabe: Ashima Yuki-san, one of the first freelance editors, reached out to Tamifull-san then.

47: At the time, yuri was considered a pretty small market. It felt like unless you got into one of the specialized publications you'd have a very hard time, right?

Tamifull: That's true. There are a lot more varied works coming out now. At the time most of these stories were actually aimed at men, so the relationships would stay platonic, or at most they might kiss. I knew stories like that were easier to market and less likely to ruffle feathers, but I found myself thinking, "If we all settle for that, we'll never get to see what happens next! If no one else is drawing it, why shouldn't I?"

47: What did Ashima-san say to you?

Tamifull: She told me, "I've been wanting to read a story where the characters and relationship feel free like this". I do remember thinking it might be more marketable without the eroticism when I was developing it for serialization (laughs). But I ended up just being like, well, let's see what happens!

47: "Realistic" LGBTQ romance stories tend to end up falling into a handful of patterns. Whether it's manga or movies, you see a lot of stories that feel like "the tragedy of same-sex love", or that seem intended to make you feel sorry for the characters. Like the audience is meant to walk away thinking, "How thought-provoking! I really learned something". But How Do We Relationship? is pretty different, isn't it?

Tamifull: Rather than being "yuri" or being viewed as an "LGBTQ story", I want people to get into the story just because they see it and go "Hey, there's girls dating in here!". Sexual minorities aren't here to be instructional materials for anyone. LGBTQ people live in the same world as everyone else. I want the characters to seem like people you might meet anywhere, and to have relationships you might see anywhere. I want the fact that the relationship isn't heterosexual to just be a detail. That's why Watanabe-san and I decided not to advertise How Do We Relationship? specifically as a yuri manga.

47: Achieving that sense of reality must take a lot of care. I imagine you have to be careful to avoid the set phrases and compositions that readers see all the time in romance manga.

Tamifull: That's true. For example, in the scene where Saeko opens up to Mikkun, their male friend, about her dating Miwa, she asks him if he finds the two of them dating "gross, or wrong, or unnatural", and Mikkun, while looking away, asks in return, "What? Do I have to feel that way about you?". The orthodox move would be to have the handsome guy character looking straight out of the page, smoothly delivering some cool line. But in real life we don't have convenient handsome guys just lying around, and you're not usually looking people straight in the eye. It's not that staged. I think the casual nature of the lines, and the casual nature of the situation, actually make it all the more resonant. I want to keep that natural feeling to the story, and I go out of my way to avoid making it feel "romantic". I think my ideal is for it to feel like a movie.

47: A movie?

Tamifull: That's right. I think one of the strengths of film is the ability to show the drama of everyday life. I always include backgrounds in my panels to try to get closer to that feeling. For instance, in a scene in volume 12, Saeko is on a boat at night looking out over the water with her girlfriend, Yuria. They're talking about breaking up. It's a very romantic setting, but the painful nature of their conversation blots out everything except for the blackness of the water. I want readers to feel like they're there experiencing it alongside the characters.

47: I see. The city you see at night while breaking up with someone certainly does feel different...

Watanabe: And Tamifull-sensei's art has really helped deliver that sense of reality to readers. There are no wasted panels: from the camera placement to how the viewer's eye is led, even the placement of the dialogue, everything serves to guide the reader to what she's showing. Due to my job I read a lot of manga, but there are very few manga artists as skilled as her.

47: Personally, as a reader, it's that sense of reality that has me praying for Saeko and Miwa to end up happy, so next I'd like to ask a little about about how you learned to imbue your writing with such reality, and what techniques you use.

Tamifull: I'll do my best (laughs).

47: First, the depth and internality of your characters. For instance, after breaking up with Saeko, Miwa dates the younger Tamaki. Tamaki is reserved and very low-energy. She's clearly at a loss with the more sexually-motivated Miwa, but nonetheless does her best to reciprocate in her own way. She's straightforward and can be a little childish, but has an intellectual side to her, as well. Accurately portraying such a complex, difficult character must necessitate having an incredibly keen eye for people. How did you learn to understand other people so well?

Tamifull: I think it was mostly my experience in school. In primary and middle school I was low on the pecking order, so I became very sensitive to other people's hostility.

47: Ah, the pecking order... That does happen, doesn't it.

Tamifull: Yes. I'd be in a group of maybe 5 or 6 friends in a class and then once every few months I'd get the silent treatment and end up being ostracized from the group, in this sort of rotation. I'd go through 2 or 3 groups and it would always happen. I think all the time I spent thinking about how to avoid being targeted like that played a big part.

47: Planning out the battle to make it out alive, so to speak.

Tamifull: I think that really helped cultivate my eye (laughs). Like, this girl's the ringleader, and these ones are joining in because they don't want to become the target themselves, but this other girl is actually nice so even when they're ganging up on me she won't join in.

47: I see. Even while you were being mistreated, you were trying to understand things from their perspective. Certainly How Do We Relationship? doesn't have any one character that you would really call a villain.

Tamifull: That's right. Take Kan, who tells Miwa "I hate you" in volume 2, or Tamaki's friend Nagi who calls her "gross" in volume 8. I think it would be too convenient if nobody was ever mean or unpleasant, so it's important to have such characters. But I also try to portray them as having their own reasons. It's not like everyone will be good to each other all the time, but for each person, there's a community out there somewhere that will accept them as themselves. I'm always including that idea, that wish, almost, as I write the various members of the music club.

47: The story has this warmth to it you can really feel, and I think that idea has a lot to do with it. That said, it sounds like you weren't always successful at avoiding bullying. That must have been difficult.

Tamifull: I spent a lot of time wrapped in my futon wondering, why do they treat me like that? As the days went by I'd end up sublimating my anger and frustration by telling myself, "They have their own problems so there's nothing I can do about it." Like, this girl might have a lot of stress at home, about her grades or other things, so she just feels too much pressure and gets pushed into bullying, or things like that. I really got in the habit of thinking about things from their perspective.

47: You are an incredibly kind person. I do think the eye you cultivated that way serves you well in writing characters. For example, in volume 3, we meet Miwa's first crush, Shiho. At home, we see Shiho being horribly mistreated by her parents, who only care for her more academically-minded younger sister, Maho. One day Maho snaps at her, saying "Don't talk back to me, moron! You know how much I have to carry thanks to your stupidity!?". But Shiho just accepts it, and keeps her unhappiness to herself. That's in volume 11, that we finally find out how Maho, who's caused Shiho so much pain, has been feeling.

Tamifull: Maho also feels a lot of pressure from their parents, and she's desperate not to fail. She's under a lot of stress from that. When they were younger, Shiho and Maho were actually very close--Maho loved her older sister--but as grades and examinations started to get involved that connection became twisted... I wasn't able to show all of this in the story, but I always think through these details before drawing.

47: That sort of thing does happen between siblings, doesn't it... Just remembering is a little painful.

Tamifull: But, as much as I analyze people like this, it's very difficult to put into words.

47: In what way?

Tamifull: If you say "Well, this person has this kind of background, so that's why they do these things" then everyone will be like, "And what do you know about them?". You'll end up hurting feelings. So I can't say it about real people, but with How Do We Relationship? I'm the author so I can draw whatever I want. When I hear readers talk about the "realism" I'm always like, "Really? You mean I actually did it?". I secretly get a little happy about it (laughs).

47: Did you always want to become a mangaka, growing up?

Tamifull: I did always like drawing. But when I was pretty young I read one of those "So you want to draw manga?" kind of books and I got very intimidated by all the different erasers and tones and things, and I sort of gave up (laughs). It wasn't until I'd completely retired from extracurriculars in college that I realized I didn't have enough to do and started drawing manga.

47: And then you became a mangaka as soon as you graduated?

Tamifull: Yes, that's right.

47: That's quite something. Not many people manage to do that, right?

Tamifull: The reason I started attending Comitia was because in college I finally learned that editors would be there. Up until then I was working with my childhood knowledge--I thought I had to submit my work to a company and then become an assistant before I could become an author myself. When I found out I was like, "Doujinshi will get me fans and even expose me to editors? What could be better!?". I had my heart set on it.

47: (laughs). What kinds of things were you inspired by when you were a child?

Tamifull: All the way through school I was into stuff that was a little different from whatever was in fashion. I liked watching slightly older anime on Kids' Station, for instance. Like, look at me! I'm not into the same stuff as everybody else! Aren't I cool? (laughs).

47: (laughs).

Tamifull: When everyone else was into Cardcaptor Sakura, I was watching Takahashi Rumiko-sensei's Ranma 1/2 and Maison Ikkoku. I remember when I read one of Ito Junji-sensei's works at a relative's house it left a big impression on me. When I was in college I bought the collector's edition of Tomie at Village Vanguard.

47: You grew up into a bit of an alt college student.

Tamifull: In college, going to Village Vanguard and fishing for manga nobody else had became something of a passion for me.

47: What about Takahashi Rumiko-sensei's work did you like in particular?

Tamifull: I especially liked the way she drew girls. In the early 2000s, when I was in primary school, it was very in fashion for girls to be drawn very slender and light, with delicate limbs.

47: Slenderness was certainly emphasized a lot back then, yes.

Tamifull: I preferred how Rumiko-sensei drew them--a little squishy. As far as the story goes, I loved the ending of Maison Ikkoku, how it portrays the characters moving forward in life. I read it over and over. I think that passion for people comes through a little in How Do We Relationship?.

47: In the afterword of volume 3, you mentioned that from middle school until about halfway through college you lost interest in manga, and were more into drama and music.

Tamifull: That's true. Sometimes I'd draw a buff Pikachu or something on the blackboard to try to get a laugh out of people, but that was about it.

47: A buff Pikachu? (laughs). I wish I could see it.

Tamifull: At co-ed schools I think girls mostly end up ranked by looks, but I went to an all-girls high school, so... It was really about who was the funniest.

47: So art was a way of giving yourself a gimmick.

Tamifull: That's right. That continued into college, so I always had the position of somebody who's just a little bit good at drawing. In college everyone was nice, though.

47: In that same afterword you mentioned that during the time you weren't drawing manga, you really enjoyed making things together with a group.

Tamifull: In high school I was in the school band, and we'd all put on plays together at school festivals. I joined the light music club in college. I did percussion in high school so I mostly played drums, or did vocals.

47: Oooh. What kinds of things did you play in the light music club?

Tamifull: Just normal rock. Popular stuff, like Go! Go! 7188.

47: I have an impression of you as being a little bit countercultural, so rock seems perfect for you (laughs).

Tamifull: In college I was also on the student festival committee, so I was doing double duty a little bit. And as much as I enjoyed making things with other people, I started to feel this hole open up, like inside I'd be thinking "I could do this so much better...". Then I started looking into manga again on a whim and realized everything had gone digital. You don't need to hire a bunch of assistants, and you can do tones with the press of a button. It was like this new environment where I could try my hand at manga by myself was prepared just in time as I came of age. I didn't have to hold myself back for anyone, and could do everything just how I wanted. That's why I've always worked alone.

47: What!? You don't have any assistants even now?

Tamifull: I don't.

47: Watanabe-san, is that normal?

Watanabe: It's extremely precious to us. She's really something, isn't she? I don't know how she puts out so much in just two weeks.

Tamifull: I want every angle and composition just so. I can't really express it well, so when I think about trying to explain it to someone else, I just feel like it would end up taking even more time... But then sometimes I'll be working from my storyboards and I'll be like, "Why did I make myself draw it like this!?" and end up suffering a little (laughs).

47: It's certainly a work that cuts no corners. The dialogue is always so well written and moving--do you start by writing the characters' lines?

Tamifull: Yes, I do. I'll write them all out at once, then adapt them to the storyboards as I go. I think all the time I spent agonizing in my futon when I was younger like "I should've said this..." or "And then they'd say that..." might also help here.

47: You always include afterword comics and omake in the tankoubon releases, so I get a sense that you're quite particular about manga books.

Tamifull: I love manga that includes a lot of little extras. And I want readers to enjoy How Do We Relationship? as much as possible, so I always go all out drawing them.

47: Your first announced works were around 2012, and in 2014 you made your commercial debut with Don't Call me a Goddess! in Bungeisha's 4-koma magazine Manga Time. The main character, Saotome-san, is a bit of a tryhard, and as much as that wins her respect from her peers, it also tends to alienate them. Into her life barrels the far less inhibited Ryou. After that, you had My Little Sister and the Sex Doll (Shueisha) serialized in Tonari no Young Jump, about an innocent and naive high school girl and a talking sex doll. Both manga were comedies.

Tamifull: How Do We Relationship? was a little bit of a break in genre, yes (laughs). My Little Sister and the Sex Doll also started as something I made as a change of pace for Comitia (laughs).

47: It's a very rhythmical work--the talking sex doll's lines are incredibly well crafted.

Tamifull: The editors at Young Jump really liked it. It was a little more crude than what I usually write, so I did have some doubts... but they were very kind in offering me the serialization. I had to exercise my vocabulary to the fullest.

47: As much as it made me laugh, I could also somehow feel your desire to break taboos coming through.

Tamifull: That's true. I was trying to make fun of dirty comics, while making a dirty comic (laughs). Even when there would be the setup for some sort of fanservice scene, with something sexual happening to the girl, I would always interrupt it with a joke and turn it into something decidedly not fanservice.

47: On the other hand, something about the relationship between Saotome-san and Ryou in Don't Call Me a Goddess! feels like it connects to Miwa and Saeko. Are you particularly fond of that sort of relationship?

Tamifull: Honestly, that was... completely unintentional. I think, when it comes to protagonists, I do like a character who is quiet, but unexpectedly stubborn... When I think about my time in school, I had a lot of experiences where there would be another girl, and she'd have this sense of separation, like a bit of a boundary around herself, but when I approached her she'd turn out to actually be really interesting. And I'd have this feeling of "Everyone else doesn't even know how cool she is!? I need to let everyone know!". I think that feeling, almost like wanting to become a producer for girls like that, has led me to write my protagonists that way.

47: You really love girls.

Tamifull: I may have spent long years in fierce battle with them at school, but when I translate it to manga they become strangely appealing. Even when they're a pain, their being a pain is good in of itself (laughs). It's true that characters who aren't straightforward can make a story more interesting, but I also think that's just how people are--you can't sum anyone up in a few words. Don't you agree?

47: Your manga, including How Do We Relationship?, really don't tend to have characters that you can sum up as "the cool one" or "the tsundere" or anything like that.

Tamifull: That's right. I don't want them to be symbols.

47: And that's exactly why, in each case--Saeko and Miwa, Miwa and Tamaki, Saeko and Yuria--when they break up, it's so emotionally impactful. You can't just point at one of them and say, "It's her fault."

Tamifull: Right. In reality, lots of people break up all the time without either one really being at fault. It makes me really happy to hear that people read the story as just being how things ended up for them. It's so easy to assume that when a relationship falls apart, it's because someone's in the wrong. I worked very hard to make sure that Tamaki and Yuria would be charming enough characters for readers to like them, and to accept it when I made them break up with Miwa and Saeko. I always look at readers' reactions and think carefully about how to proceed.

47: How Do We Relationship? really feels like you want to closely examine real, "normal" relationships.

Tamifull: I think it's a pity for the socially accepted image of love to be something so narrow. When two women date, and after breaking up return to being friends, I think people have a tendency to look a little askance at them. But why is that? I always find myself thinking, "Are you okay with living like that?". With How Do We Relationship?, I wanted to create a world where Miwa and Saeko and everyone else's desires wouldn't be crushed by those around them.

47: Especially during the first 3 volumes, you often shine the spotlight on the other characters around Miwa and Saeko. Is that also a part of fleshing out that view of the world?

Tamifull: Something like that. I don't want the idea of someone who likes the same sex to be something fantastical. I want to show that sexual minorities are all around--even around you. I want heterosexual readers to also get into the story, and I was very conscious of that early on in the serialization. I think whether you're gay or straight, you can still understand this story. These characters are just like you. That's the message I've tried to send.

47: It would be really wonderful if we could become a society where everyone views each other with respect. What would that take, I wonder?

Tamifull: Delusions, maybe.

47: Delusions? (laughs).

Tamifull: Yes (laughs). This is just my own experience, but when I meet someone and feel off-put by them, I always thoroughly imagine their background. By the time I'm finished whatever anger I felt has faded, and I feel ready to treat them better--maybe even to become close with them. And if you write stories you can come up with great material this way, so it's two birds with one stone (laughs).

[c0tt0nballz]

Jerry Stokes sins

I was a bit tired of seeing the purification/watered down jerry the fandom portrays, so i wanted to make a small compilation of stuff he did to show that he isnt some sweet little angel, but rather just a teenage boy who is easy to manipulate, beware this is all a loser rant and should not be taken seriously, i have not seen the light of day in years

(Ps : thanks to @lame4dogz for the idea :3)

⚠️eltingville club comic spoilers⚠️

Exhibit A :

objectification of women

In various occasions we get to see Jerry thinking of real women in a sexual light, of course this can be just normal teenage boy actions, "boys will be boys" but only because its normal doesnt mean its right, so ill judge him for it

Since the first comic ever of the eltingville we get to see this behavior from him, starting with Tasha Yar

Later on we see him using a crosby playboy magazine, of course the magazine WAS made for this kind of purposes, but owning a playboy magazine and saying "well the models knew what they were modeling for!!" Doesnt make your hands any less dirty

Here he is reading a comic of a character named "vulvanella", same comic that was shown on a separate drawing from Evan Dorkin, it is very obvious she was created for sexual purposes

Lastly and my biggest proof of this exhibit is this panel from "The marathon men", there was nothing sexual going on, and yet Jerry found a way to turn the situation around.

Exhibit B :

Ignoring or joining in the bullying of josh

This exhibit is pretty much the same for all panels so im not gonna get very into it, but i do need to recall that i understand the peer pressure jerry may have gone through, and how some times he questioned if what they were doing was too much or too cruel, but did he ever do anything to fix it? Did he ever apologize or try to satnd up for Josh, not really, having the intention but doing nothing about it doesnt make you a better person, some panels showing this behavior from jerry are the following :

Exhibit C :

Jerry's biggest sin

This one i remark to be the worst thing jerry has ever done, something so huge that he kept for so so long, and that is...

The true identity of GREEDO318

Bill

This is something he could have brought up at any time, yet he didnt, every single time Josh kept ranting about the back and forth battles with GREEDO318, he kept his mouth shut, this is not him trying to save his own ass, this is him ignoring the constant bullying and abuse josh goes through online, this is something i will forever claim is his biggest sin ever.

thank u guyz for staying in my ted talk i hope u liked ittt i love jerry so much he is so silly :3

[sparklyskies0]

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

‘No, I wanna see you undress now

I wanna hear you confess now,’

parts: 1 ᥫ᭡

( 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 ) after having her birthday practically ruined by her shitty bf, y/n finds herself face to face with her enemy who she recently shared a drunken night with. confronting the situation, but still fuming with hate. chris is determined to prove to her that her boyfriend is exactly what he says he is and that she deserves nothing other than pleasure on her special day.

warnings/disclaimers : poc!reader, oral sex (fem receiving!), softdom!chris, cursing, pet names, sort of fluff(?), etc..

The music blared through the speakers as everyone conversated and enjoyed themselves scattered around your apartment. Your friends had thrown a surprise party for you, considering you will do the same for them. Everything was nice, perfect even. The balloons everywhere, the colors, even the cake surprised you. The only thing that was missing was your boyfriend.

You haven't seen or spoken to him all day, but you only just assumed it was a part of keeping you out of the loop for the party, but he has yet to show up or return any of your texts or calls. He always does this, completely ghosts' you over the slightest disagreement or inconvenience instead of communicating and talking it out. You had one tiny argument, one. And now he won't even show up to your birthday party? You were angry, no, more than angry. Out of all the people that are here to celebrate you the one person you're constantly searching the room for, is him.

Shifting in your seat on the couch you pull down the small part of your dress that has risen up. There was no way your friends were going to just let you sit and mope around at your own party, so they offered you to come smoke with them and you told them you'll be there in a second, now you're just sitting on your couch, in the crowded living room. Surrounded by a bunch of drunk people who you honestly love dearly but know that none of them care or notice about your off energy tonight. How could they though? everyone who knew you would know that the last thing you like to do is talk about how you're feeling or anything remotely personal, so there's no point in trying. You grab the red solo cup in front of you bringing it to your mouth, taking a sip. Your face scrunches up at the sourness of the drink, but the familiar taste tells you that its your best friend Samara's famous jungle juice.

You manage to get it down and settle into it, letting out a hum of distaste but you know you're going to drink it anyway. You glance up to see Chris approaching you. Almost like a reflex, you roll your eyes. Your eyes watch the boy, but your mind drifts off to about a week ago. The night after the club, drunk, angry, completely fucked out. You two honestly haven't spoken about it, you haven't even spoken to each other period. The complete irritation in his presence and hatred for one another still very much apparent no matter how good the sex was. How and why was he even invited? you asked yourself. But you knew the reality, you can't get rid of him, even if you pray on it.

You can see his stupid smirk from your seat as he got closer. You weren't in the mood, not for his shit. "look at the birthday girl" he speaks, now stood towering in front of you. You look up at him, shooting a fake smile "just the asshole i wanted to see" you say, sarcasm in your tone.

Causing a chuckle to leave his lips as he sat down next to you. "sitting by yourself at your own party? i expected more from you princess" he says

You cringe at the nickname, where the fuck did that come from?

You shrug "not really in the party mood anymore"

you notice his furrowed eyebrows, curiosity peeked in him. "you good?" he asks, if you didn't know any better, you would think he sounded like he actually.... cared.

"Not that it's any of your business but, honestly no" you say honestly. Truly not knowing why you're telling him the truth about how you're actually feel right now.

that damn jungle juice.

The look on Chris's face read anything but shocked. He took a quick scan of the room, the party still active and energetic than ever. The one person he was looking for, not there. A smirk forms on his lips as he turns his attention back to you. you practically cursed at yourself, at how predictable and easy it was for you to read his thoughts and expressions, at the fact that you knew exactly was he was going to bring up next. "no boyfriend?" he asks

"—If thats even what he is now" he added. "the fuck does that mean?" you asked, you thought you had said it to yourself but, guess not.

"you know what that means, what kind of boyfriend ditches his girls party" he questioned, to himself. He didn't understand, why you did this to yourself. He hates you for it.

you let out a sigh, not ready to get into specifics especially with him.

He stands up from the couch, facing you. He held out his hand "c'mere"

you look at his hand, then at him. Your eyebrows automatically raising. "what?" you ask, like he was stupid.

"you heard me, come on" he says again. you can tell he wasn't taking no for an answer.

instead of taking the hand he held out for you, you stood up on your own. he dropped his hand sucking his teeth. you just had to be difficult. "wheres your room?" he asked. You gave him a look like he should know but then realized that you two never made it to your room that night. You walked in front of him, leading you both out of the living room area. The entry way into the hall that lead to your room and bathroom had a tape blocking it for your room privacy. you ducked your head going underneath it as chris did the same. You stood in front of your bedroom door and you opened it.

The room was neat and clean, your best friend made sure of it when she was setting up. you step inside, hearing chris close and lock the door behind you. You look at him, the smirk seemed to be permanently on his face. he walks towards you. "you deserve better" he speaks

do i? you ask yourself. "what?" you respond, the forced attitude obvious in your voice

"your boyfriend isn't here, why is that?" he asks

"that's none of your business" you counter

"but it is." he states

"it is when its bothering you so much"

you felt yourself wanting to laugh, he cant be serious right now. acting like he cares. "very funny" you say. "I'm not laughing princess, its your day. you should be enjoying it" he retorts

"not sitting around wishing the guy that is totally wrong for you by the way, was here"

"hes a dick, and you know that"

"and you're any better?" you speak up, chris chuckles "probrably not, but i know that i make you feel good, better than he does" he says

you wanted to laugh but there would be no use. cause he's right.

without any further words chris pulls you closer to him. your bodies flush against each other. He could feel your rapid heartbeat against his chest. he looked down at you. "come on princess..."

"let me make you feel good"

he didn't wait for your approval before he pressed his lips on yours. You didnt hesitate to kiss back. Completely melting into it. You bring your hands to cup the sides of his face, pulling him closer. He let out a small guttural moan into your lips.

you both backed up, until the back of your legs touched the bed. he slowly sunk you down, leaving trails of kisses over your neck. Once you were layed on your back, he trailed his kisses down. His hands pushing the bottom of your dress up to your hips revealing the rest of your thighs and underwear. He moaned at the sight. Completely obsessed with the picture of you.

he buried his head down to your lower stomach placing kisses everywhere, you arched to him. "i wanna to taste you princess. make you squirm f'me" he spoke lowly, seductively.

you bit your lip. looking at him, hearing his words. His fingers hooked the hem of your underwear, pulling them down slowly. Your dripping wet core now exposed to him. "mm fuck ma, so wet for me already" he moaned. His index finger tracing a line down your glistening folds. you moaned softly at the brief contact. But you needed more.

It wasn't long before you felt his wet mouth take you. you gasp at the sudden contact of his tounge with your clit. He teased it lightly before licking between folds. His tounge circled your wet cunt as you let out glorious sounds that were like music to his ears.

You felt yourself relaxing under his touch, and pleasure. "mm fuck" you moaned out, your hands ran through his hair. He focused on your clit, and you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the edge so quickly.

Without warning, he slipped a finger inside. Your body arched up, you let out a sharp moan. he glanced up at you, biting his lip in a smirk "like that princess? you like my fingers inside you?" he taunted

it only made you hotter. His fngers picked up pace, your body natural squirming against him. "mm too fast baby?" he hummed out, but he wasnt going to slow down any time soon.

"your boyfriend doesnt do this huh?" he speaks

"he doesnt make you feel this good.."

"only i can." he says, you let out a loud moan and it only made his head bigger. he grinned cockily.

"oh ffuck chris" you stuttered out a moan. Feeling your orgasm get closer. "g'na cum for me, baby?" he groaned. bringing his face back to your core, his tounge flicking over your clit as his fingers thrusted into you rapidly. Your words became mumbles and your moans got louder and more high pitched. you gripped his hair tightly. You can hear him groan against your throbbing pussy. "thats it. pull my hair princess, come on" he mumbled against you.

Your body arched once again, a string of moans leaving your lips as you release over his tongue and fingers. His name fell from your lips so naturally, like it was meant to be that way.

He continued with kitty licks against your sensitive core, placing a kiss to your clit and all over your inner thigh. you watched him. As he placed kisses over your sensitive areas, thinking to yourself how someone who seems to hate you so much can make you feel like the only girl in the world. How your relationship is full of hate but also so much intimacy affection. You panted lightly catching your breath from your intense orgasm.

Chris brings his fingers to his mouth licking off any remaining juices, like he was starving. He brought himself up to you, face to face. Attacking your lips with his. you can taste yourself on him and it made you main. The kiss grew deeper and more intense.

A sharp knock was heard at the door, catching both of your attention. You lifted your head up. "y/n!!' a voice was heard from the other side of the door. "bitch come out its time to cut the cake!" you recognized the voice to be samara's.

you hear her footsteps faint as she walks away. you breathe , glad that she didn't catch on to what lies inside the room. chris grabs your discarded underwear from the ground and gently puts them back on for you. You unknowingly feel yourself give him a slight smile of appreciation and you immediately curse at yourself. You sit up as he stands to his feet. You pull your dress down straightening out.

Chris makes his way to the door, unlocking it. placing his hand on the door knob, before opening it to turns to you. "happy birthday princess" he winks. You chuckle at his cockiness "shut up, go" you say as he opens the door and you both walk out.

When you both enter the living room , all the lights are off. The only form of light is the candles lit on the cake. Once they saw you enter everyone burst into song. "Happy birthday to you" they began to sing

you chuckle looking at all of them gathered around. you step closer. now at the kitchen counter, the heart-shaped cake in front of you.

As they sang, chris stood infront of you along with everyone else. His eyes glued to you, though everyone was staring, you could feel his eyes piercing into you. When they finished singing happy birthday, and you made your wish, you were showered with love.

"happy birthday baby" a voice was heard, you turned, and looked up.

Your boyfriend, stood towered over you.

ᥫ᭡ Authors Note

this was pretty long 😭

def gonna make this a series bc

this is my fav.

Hope you enjoyed!! love you 💋

xoxo paris

[bengiyo]

Love in the Big City Part 1: It's Gay

We’ve finally made it to the Love in the Big City TV adaptation. Despite all the drama going on around this show’s release, we got the whole show at once. We won’t get canceled midway through. Though I hoped for a global weekly release schedule, I understand the decisions that led to dropping the whole thing at once. Thankfully, Nam Yoon Su is so charismatic as Go Yeong, and I have much to say about how this show doesn’t hate BL, has great regard for the humanity of its characters, and so far is one of the better adaptations I’ve experienced in my life. 

Nam Yoon Su’s Go Yeong

I just want to state plainly that I love how queer Go Yeong feels in this show. I love his pissy little expressions. I love his frustration and anger at gross straight men. I love his gay little run. I love his dancing in the street to girl pop artists. I love him making out with men in public. 

I loved opening with Yeong in the midst of a new fling and openly having lots of sex before the military boyfriend came back home. I loved Yeong ending things before later going to a club to seek new partners. We haven’t had that in so long, with Queer as Folk being the biggest cultural memory for many. 

More than anything, I love how lonely he felt. Many others have noted it in the tag, and I think that’s the part that resonates when something feels queer for a lot of us. It was notable that they brought Yeong’s friends forward this time, which gives us insight into the shallow nature of most of his relationships. His connection to them is through the club, music, and boys. Go Yeong keeps everyone at a distance. It’s the hardest part about being queer sometimes. You try to connect with others, but something always seems to come up to prevent that closeness. 

Kim Nam-Gyu

I think casting Kwon Hyuk as Kim Nam Gyu was such an excellent decision. He previously played my man Jong Chan in The New Employee, and it feels like a nod from this production that they are not opposed to BL. BL is a drama full of romance tropes and huge optimism about relationships, and they cast the actor who played my favorite version of the ideal man in a way that showed empathy for his lonely, quiet nature. Casting Kwon Hyuk feels like a tactful way for this show to say, “We’re not BL, and we respect the work others are doing.” The New Employee was directed by a Korean gay activist, and I love this show giving K-BL a polite nod.

Nam Gyu is a quiet gay. As one myself, I get a lot of what I saw in Nam Gyu. He takes pictures of hot models because it’s a socially acceptable way for him to be close to hot men. He leaps at the chance to be with Go Yeong, and speed runs the intimacy route. He missed that he was smothering Go Yeong, and I think it’s because it’s clear he lacks friends.

I feel so sad for Nam Gyu, because it’s clear he overinvested in his relationship with Go Yeong. He was so ready to give Go Yeong everything, but it was way too much for a club gay. Despite all the ways he rushed in (like a fool), he was otherwise so safe in his life. He stayed in the lines everywhere, and it’s so tragic that he died while speeding. 

I thought a lot about the lack of Kylie in this section and the health scare, and it adds a layer to the situation with Nam Gyu as @twig-tea pointed out in one of our conversations that Go Yeong asked how he died because he might already know his status. Did Go Yeong wonder if he’d infected Nam Gyu? It also makes me wonder about the sex we didn’t see with Nam Gyu and IG guy. 

Finally, the empty funeral hurts me to my core. This man was so decent, and no one was there to see him off. I am still thinking about how all of the breakups mirrored each other in this section.

Choi Mi Ae

I think @lurkingshan already covered Mi Ae in this adaptation very well. I’ve been thinking about her for a few days, and I’ve decided that I like that we get to see more of her outside of Yeong’s POV in the show. We can see how her circumstances rattled her, and how it was clear that she couldn’t make it on her own long term. 

I get her taking the cushy job. I get her finding a nice enough guy who didn’t want kids. I get her choosing to protect herself when cornered. The most tragic thing about her outing of Yeong is that she told the truth and it only seemed to make things worse. Jonho could never understand the solace she and Go Yeong found in each other, and he was not ready to ever hear the truth of Mi Ae’s life. 

I feel more sympathy for Mi Ae in this version because we can see that their relationship meant so much to her. Learning that he actually went on to become a writer touched her because it feels like he’ll immortalize a time in their lives that was mutually important to them. It also means that one of them may not have to settle for the choices available to them. The singing at the wedding hits so painfully here because it’s the last fun memory these two will ever have. Yeong goes back to the apartment Mi Ae left for him to eat the last of their blueberries, and that’s the last we’ll see of her.

Final Thoughts

I’m so relieved that we have book club discussion again. I’ll be reading and reblogging people’s posts, and I’m looking forward to the next part to see how Hyung fits into the show’s narrative. This adaptation has been so beautiful so far, and it’s been really great to see how the show has softened some of its edges by putting us in third person perspective. We are giving room to understand Mi Ae, Nam Gyu, and the T-aras by not seeing them exclusively through Yeong’s eyes.

[leviscolwill]

show me how

pairing: mason mount x f1 driver!reader

summary: mason brings you as his plus one to the ballon d'or ceremony and although you're both used to cameras, you still need each other to ease your minds. [wc: 1.4k]

req: i love ur jude x driversss but can we have mason and driver😔😔

contents: angst (reader has a panic attack), but other than that fluff, fluff, fluff ! established relationship, mason is a cutie patootie

note: okay this was supposed to be much shorter but i got carried away rewriting it at 1am 💀 but anyways !! first time writing for my boy (and definitely not the last) !! i hope you'll like it 🫶

now playing: show me how by men i trust (oncle jazz)

the beautiful dress you had on was probably not suited to brave paris' october wind. but your boyfriend and you had planned all of this for months already. you just flew out from the mexican gp as soon as you could and started learning the speech you wrote beforehand the moment you landed in paris.

you knew your presence at the ballon d'or ceremony was important to mason, he had a difficult time adjusting to his new club and you needed to be here for him.

you felt that was the least you could do, mason had been there for you during the whole season, facetiming you even when you were at the opposite end of the world and he needed to sleep.

your car wasn't as fast as your team had planned and all hope of a championship was close to none, the media started questioning your position within the team and whether or not you deserved a seat. safe to say, you went through a rough patch.

you were aware that coming here would give you a headache with all the questions coming your way on the red carpet. 'is your boyfriend a distraction to your career ?', 'do you think you're in f1 solely for diversity reasons ?', 'will we be able to see you on the grid next season ?' no. no. maybe.

actually, you weren't here only for mason. your pr team got you to announce the women's ballon d'or. you were extremely grateful for the opportunity, being a woman in a male-dominated sport like formula one forced you to advocate for equity and recognition of women in sports. and this was a great way to spread your message, a message you knew these players would relate to, they were also victims of sexism and misogyny in their sport after all.

however, you were still nervous, you hated public speaking and your hands were shaking at the sole thought of messing up your speech. for some reason, it was easier for you to talk in front of big cameras during races, even after a dnf, than at such an important event for a whole sport.

when you both finally got inside and were taken to your seats, you didn't even notice your leg starting to bounce on its own.

"are you okay ?" mason took your hands in his as soon as he noticed your stress.

"i'm fine, just a bit nervous" you lied. you were very nervous. you didn't know why, you've experienced worse in terms of stressful situations. hell, your job was a big stressful situation on its own.

you silently rehearsed your speech, while your mind helped you visualise everything that could possibly go wrong, exactly what you needed. falling down on stage, dropping the trophy, breaking it, stuttering during your whole speech, blanking out, passing out... all of this in front of a big audience with threatening eyes, an even bigger audience if you counted people in front of their devices, watching the ceremony.

all of these thoughts became too much for you to handle and you felt the urge to get out. obviously, you couldn't actually get out of here, you wouldn't forgive yourself for doing this to mason.

so you settled on going to the bathroom to clear your head a bit. the 'clear your head' part didn't work well though, as you felt tears well up in your eyes. the thought of your makeup running down your cheeks was enough to make you spiral again. thankfully, no one could see the scene unfold since you were confined in one of the stalls, sitting on a floor that was probably not clean enough for you to do so. you tried focusing on the conversation two girls were having just outside, praising each other's seasons.

you heard the door close, or open, you weren't able to tell.

"y/n ? are you here ?" you didn't expect to hear mason's voice.

"umm, this is the women's bathroom..." one of the two girls said to your boyfriend.

"i know... i'm looking for my girlfriend she's-"

"mase, i'm here." you slightly opened the stall's door for him to get in.

the bathroom stall was clearly too small for the both of you, so you were practically glued to mason.

"y/n... you should have told me how you felt." mason had a serious look on his face, which was quite unusual for him.

"i'm sorry, i didn't want you to worry. it's just... a lot for me, i don't want to mess it up."

mason's hands found your cheeks and made you look up to him.

"you don't need to put pressure on yourself like that y/n. i know you'll do great, you just need to tell this brain of yours to stop working overtime." his arms engulfed you in a big hug.

"no, don't hug me... i'm all snotty." you whined, trying to push him away, in vain.

"i love you even when you're snotty." he said, peppering kisses across your face.

"so cheesy."

"you love it though." he said chuckling. he was right, you loved it when mason was overly cheesy, especially when he did so to comfort you after a bad race or in moments when you simply needed him.

mason cleaned up your makeup after comforting you, and you went back to your seats hand in hand, a smile on both your faces from the intimate moment you both shared.

when you were taken backstage just before the announcement, you felt anxiety creep up again. this time mase wasn't by your side, but his words were. this was all in your head, you just needed to deliver your speech. that's it, nothing would go wrong.

you stepped on the stage with mason's words still ringing in your head when you felt hundreds of eyes on you.

the voice in the back of your head was wrong. everything went perfectly, you even caught mason's sparkly eyes when you were done announcing the women's ballon d'or winner.

getting back to your assigned seat, mason immediately congratulated you, kissing your cheek.

"you did amazing. god, you were amazing."

you were grateful for the room's shitty lightning, because mason didn't need to notice the way your cheeks started to flush at his words.

"thank you mase, i don't think i could have done it without you."

"stop saying nonsense. you did everything yourself." it seemed mason wasn't aware of how much his words, as simple as they might have been, along with his presence, were key factors in you actually pulling up to the stage. but debating with your boyfriend on such subjects was useless, so you let him believe what he wanted to.

the two of you spent the rest of the night chatting with each other in half-whispers, sometimes getting little 'shhhhh's from the audience. even though your anxiety was long forgotten, you still felt relieved when the ceremony ended. but getting home from the packed location was another issue you didn't plan.

you didn't know if you were thankful your hotel room wasn't that far from where the ceremony was held, or if you hated it. your heels were absolutely killing you and you didn't feel like walking in them, even for 200m.

"you look like a baby giraffe right now."

your boyfriend always had the right words to cheer you up, didn't he ?

"shut up. these shoes will actually be the death of me." you looked up at him with glassy eyes, hoping he'd get the message.

"i'm not about to give you my shoes y/n." his words made you sulk immediately.

"i could give you a piggyback ride to the hotel though..." you could hear mason's smirk in his tone, you knew he wouldn't do that for free.

"what do you want ?"

"a kiss." he simply said pointing at his lips.

you quickly pecked his lips, expecting your piggyback ride.

"what was that ?"

"a kiss ?" you answered, stating the obvious.

"surely not. put your heart in it will you ?" his comment made you roll your eyes but you complied anyway. you felt mason's hand sneak to the back of your neck deepening the kiss. after a few seconds, you realised you were kissing in the middle of paris' streets. you pulled away and hit his chest in false annoyance. which quickly dissipated once you were on his back, your aching feet silently thanking you.

"you're a menace." you said, although you were smiling at his antics.

"i'm your menace."

[leaentries]

joining the mile high club with nico…🤭

ngl i squealed a lil bit when i saw this

warnings: semi-public sex, p in v, plane sex, teasing, cursing, Nico being a cocky lil shit

wc: 1.1k+

You’re not quite sure exactly how you found yourself in this situation, but you definitely weren’t gonna complain. 

You guessed it started when you and Nico found your seats on the Devil's plane. You and the rest of the team were flying back from an away game. Typically you weren’t allowed to ride on the plane with Nico, but somehow he managed to convince the staff to let you tag along. To say that he was excited would be an understatement. Nico seemed over the moon that you were with him on this trip. 

This wouldn’t be weird, except for the fact that Nico kept giving you his infamous bedroom eyes. The ones where he bores his gorgeous deep brown eyes into yours and you can practically feel your panties melting off. Nico had been leaving lingering touches to your waist and thighs all morning. Clearly, something was up. 

Once the both of you had gotten comfortable in your seats, which just so happened to be at the very back of the plane, Nico’s teasing attempts didn’t stop. You were sitting by the window, headphones in, watching the clouds go by. Nico’s hand, which rested on your thigh, snapped you out of your trance as it slowly began to inch its way closer to your core. Your eyes widened, as you snapped your head towards Nico.

“What are you doing?” You asked through gritted teeth. Nico, who appeared unbothered, just shrugged his shoulders before leaning to place an innocent kiss on your cheek. Which was a stark contrast to his hand that now cupped your aching pussy. Not that you were gonna let Nico know it was affecting you. You did your best to keep your breathing at bay, but Nico knew you. 

He knew exactly how to rile you up. He let his middle finger add pressure right over where your leggings covered your clit. You gripped his hand tightly as a warning. Ignoring your efforts, Nico began to draw slow circles to your clothed clit, dragging agonizing lines down to your slit. Although Nico’s face remained stoic, the painfully obvious bulge in his shorts proved differently. 

You let your own hand lay over his throbbing cock, palming him slowly through his shorts. His hand stuttered slightly against you. He leaned his head back, letting it fall against the back of the seat. You smirked at his reaction, “Two can play this game, baby boy.” You whispered in his ear. He lifted his head to meet your eyes with his own. 

Nico retracted his hand from your core, leaving you deflated. He looked around slightly, making sure no one was paying attention. “I’m going into the bathroom, wait a couple minutes, then join me.” He carefully excused himself, making a point to keep his hands placed in front of him. His plan became clear to you now: Nico wanted to fuck you on the plane.

A few dreadfully long minutes passed before you sneakily left your seat to enter the bathroom. Once inside you made sure to lock the door, afterwards turning to face Nico. He wasted no time before pressing your body to the wall, not taking much effort as the bathroom was tiny. His lips crashed against yours as the tension he’d been holding all morning was released.

He was desperate for you, the idea of fucking you had been on his mind all morning. Nico was riled up bad for you, the way you had bit your lip earlier in an attempt to control your moans flashed through his mind, causing his dick to twitch in his shorts. He needed you now. 

“Turn around for me, baby” You complied immediately, finding support against the tiny sink. Nico pulled your leggings and panties down to your thighs in one swift movement. He let his fingers trace up and down your slit, feeling you. 

“Aww, so wet for me, baby?” You nodded helplessly, “Who got you this wet, hm? I mean, fuck, you don’t even need any prep.” He bit his lip at the sight of your dripping cunt. 

“O-only you, Neeks. ‘S all for you.” You whined at his intense gaze. You wiggled your hips slightly, trying to get him to do something to ease the ache in your core.

 He chuckled at your weak effort.

“That’s right, all for me. Just me.” He rasped. He grabbed his cock, before giving it a couple of pumps and lining it up with your entrance. Nico met your eyes in the mirror, as a way of asking permission. You gave him an eager nod in return. With no hesitation, he sheathed himself completely inside of you. 

You both let out whimpers at the feeling. Nico swore lowly, mumbling something in german. He gave you a second to adjust to his size, before starting a ruthless pace. Wanting to waste no time, he grabbed your hips roughly pulling them back to meet his thrusts. Your hand reached up to cover your mouth in fear of letting out any sounds.

Nico knew neither of you was gonna last much longer, due to how worked up you had become. He continued his brutal pace, leaning to bite your shoulder in an attempt to muffle the loud groans threatening to leave his throat. The feeling of your pussy contracting around him made his knees weak. 

“ ‘m not gonna last much longer, baby.” He managed in your ear. You nodded in agreement, not trusting your voice. You felt your core tighten, the burning sensation spreading throughout your entire body. You felt yourself come undone around his cock, your cunt pulsating as your orgasm hit you like a train. 

Nico wasn’t far behind, your eager pussy milking him for all he’s worth. You both sat there for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breath and calm your flushed and sweaty skin. Nico pulled out slowly, causing you to wince at the cool-empty feeling. He tucked himself back into his shorts before doing his best to clean you up as well. 

Once your clothes had been readjusted, Nico helped smooth your hair down, not forgetting to place a sweet kiss on your forehead. You wrapped your arms around his torso, placing your head on his chest. He gently rested his chin on your head. You relished in each others post-orgasm bliss, not ready to let go just yet.

After a few minutes, you spoke, “We should probably head out Neeks, I’m sure the planes gonna land soon and I really don’t want to spend any more time in the airplane bathroom.” Nico chuckled at your remark. He nudged your forehead with his nose. 

“You go first, I’ll be out in just a minute.” Giving him one last kiss, you left the bathroom heading back to your seat with a giddy smile.

Who knew joining the mile-high club could be that fun?

[cuffmeinblack]

Game On

Garreth Weasley x f!reader

See the full art

Tags: explicit | modern AU | rugby player!Gar | semi-public sex | blowjobs

3.3k words

Summary: Garreth draws attention whenever he plays, but you've had enough of the spectators' ogling and decide to show them who he belongs to.

A/n: Big rugby men make my brain go brrrrrrrr. Anyway this has zero plot and finesse as expected but damn it's a good time.

The midday sun blazed, grass beneath your shoes crunching, scorched to a crisp. Early Summer had brought with it an unseasonable heatwave, such that the air grew stifling and stagnant like a swamp. What scant shade was produced by the nearby brutalist concrete structures which housed your university’s young hopefuls had been gobbled up by enthusiastic spectators, huddled together with expressions of possessive ire, fearful that they might lose their prime positions. You walked on towards the front of the stands where the heat was at its most intense yet afforded you the best view; it would be worth it, after all. 

If you were suffering simply sauntering by, Garreth must have been sweltering in that stuffy changing room—you'd had enough after-practice rendezvous to know just how thick the air could get, mingled with sweat and shower vapours and the heady scent of sex. But despite the uncomfortable heat, you would never dream of missing a match for two very important reasons: the first, that showing your unwavering support of your boyfriend in his endeavours boosted his morale immeasurably; the second, that Garreth looked so unintentionally tantalising when he played that the whole eighty minutes was akin to watching an exotic dance performance, with more bruises and aggression that only added to the allure.   

The boys were already on the pitch warming up by the time you sat down, all clad in red shorts and vests emblazoned with the uni logo that left little to the imagination. You caught a number of groups of giggling girls in the stands blatantly pointing and ogling; irritating, yes, but Garreth saw you and waved enthusiastically, unperturbed by all the attention he was drawing. One could never be too smug in such a situation, and so you flashed him a toothy smile in return.

He knelt in the grass as he adjusted his ridiculous hairband (that you teased him about endlessly), stretching out his adductors with a concentration befitting a professional. For all your idle fascination with his thighs, he was a dedicated sportsman through and through. He took his rugby career seriously, throwing as much energy into training as his actual degree, whilst endlessly hoping to be scouted by one of the union clubs. The other lads had similar aspirations—it was surely the only reason they'd be out here in this absolute furnace for a friendly game. 

You fanned yourself with a leaflet you found in your bag, chugging water as you waited for the game to start. The crowd was already starting to get restless as the stands filled and all around you many of the spectators made it clear that they weren't here for the sport.

“That ginger one's fit,” a young blonde said, followed by a fit of giggles.

You held back the urge to chuck your plastic bottle at her head, thankfully distracted by the referee's appearance onto the pitch. With a lurch of your stomach, you saw that he was in conversation with a young woman with the telltale lanyard and clipboard of a club professional. Of course they would be scouting on today of all days, the blistering heat weeding out the weakest players with subpar endurance. Garreth had noticed her too, nudging his teammates as shock and awe passed over their faces one by one. 

The rest of the team melted away as you kept your eyes on Garreth, taking up his position behind the scrum. This was generally when you started to feel the prickle of excitement and nerves as the teams eyed each other up and the field fell silent, waiting for the whistle.

As soon as play started, all hell broke loose. Garreth played with such focus and ferocity, entirely the opposite to his laidback and cheerful self off the pitch. He directed his team without hesitation, attacking more aggressively than usual, always driving forward. By half-time his team were leading by ten points. You could already see a tear in Garreth’s shirt, dust caking his knees and a smile between his pink cheeks, but the heat was starting to sap the energy of every player as they panted and stretched in what little shade they could find.

When play resumed, only the presence of the club scout could explain the carnage that ensued. The game was so incredibly vicious, the contact between bodies so intense that the crowds erupted in hisses and roars so innumerable they blended into a singular jarring uproar.

Hands grasped at shorts, wrapped around waists and heads buried between muscular thighs as the clash ensued, a ferocious battle that you couldn’t help but find erotic.

Garreth held the ball in the final few minutes of the match, and he decided to make a run for it. The scrum of bodies was still but a flailing mess as he sprinted around and launched the ball back at his mate in the wing; back and forth it went, attacks from every side until finally Garreth found himself curled on the grass, the final try before a shrill whistle ended the game and the crowds erupted.

You were shouting and clapping with the rest of them as the players exchanged handshakes, the euphoria practically oozing from every pore. Garreth was in your eyeline, but he was the subject of many other hungry gazes, including the young woman with the lanyard. They shook hands and talked, Garreth beaming all the while as a swell of pride bloomed large in your chest. But the blonde you’d instantly taken a dislike to was weaving her way through the crowds, muttering something to her friend as they linked arms. You decided to follow whilst keeping those distant copper curls in your sights.

The friend was asking blondie a question, making a show of leaning in in some conspiratorial manner. “Do you think he’s got a girlfriend?” 

“Don’t know, don’t care. I don’t see one, do you? He’s probably gagging for it after that game.”

You almost laughed at her crassness, inching closer towards her as she teetered along in ridiculous heels that sank into the dusty ground. She smoothed her hair, and Garreth finally looked in your direction, finished with his conversation. She must have thought he was looking at her as she gave a small wave and the girls devolved into more giggles as Garreth smiled back with an adorable head tilt of confusion. You should have said something, but the scene was far too amusing, and so you hung back, listening to blondie use her best flirtatious purr at your boyfriend.

“You were amazing. Could I get your autograph?”

You couldn’t help it—you snorted with laughter. Garreth blinked and grinned like a cheshire cat, looking over blondie’s shoulder at you with an expression that screamed ‘help me’. It was about time you put a stop to this charade. Overtaking the pair at a jog, you flew into Garreth’s arms, his emerald eyes only for you, and his lips finding yours with a relieved sigh. You heard the scoffs and disappointed huffs that only made his kiss sweeter, the wolf whistles that ensued when his tongue slipped eagerly into your mouth.

Perhaps she’d been right; he probably was gagging for it, given the intensity of the match and the proceeding victory. Garreth held you firm against his sweaty skin even as you broke apart, still smiling, but now his eyes thoroughly smouldered—a look you knew all too well. It tugged at your chest and something writhed, hot and insistent, low in your abdomen; the tingle of arousal you’d felt the moment you laid eyes on him now a barely contained flame.

There was no point in being subtle in your intentions. You took his hand from your waist, dragging him through the thinning crowds to the first private place your mind had sprung to. 

“You’re eager. Where are you taking me?” he asked, unable to keep the sheer joy from his voice.

You turned to tug his drenched vest, a voiceless hint at urgency. As you turned a corner behind the back of the changing rooms, a small alleyway led out into a private car park. Your car sat inconspicuously in the corner in the shade of a towering oak tree, far from the distant spectators, still chanting in jubilation.

“I’m guessing you’re not going to drive us back to my dorm,” Garreth teased, grabbing a handful of your behind as you came to a stop next to the vehicle. 

“No, I’m not sitting in traffic when I could be—”

You were promptly spun around and pulled in for another kiss, your response muffled into a pleased moan. Fumbling for your car keys whilst Garreth fumbled with your breasts, you heard the click of the lock and flung open the back passenger side door, diving across the seats with a giddy laugh. You gave the car park a cursory sweep but it was still quiet and empty. 

Garreth climbed in after you, a much harder feat given his size, clambering on top of you as soon as the door shut. Your lips were glued, tongues dancing over each other. Garreth's weight felt good on top of you, even more so the thigh he'd slid between your legs. Corded muscle pressed against your heat, firm and solid. Your hips rose to meet him, shamelessly seeking friction to relieve the ache between your legs. He helped you along the way, pulling your hips to grind harder into his thigh. He must have felt how wet you were already, underwear soaked through to his skin.

You needed more than just his leg, as deliciously thick as they were, but Garreth was far too tall for the back seats to do much of anything in that horizontal position. You urged him backwards, and he got the idea soon enough, inching back to sit upright. You wasted no time climbing onto his lap, straddling his thighs as the muscles twitched from exertion, wrapping your arms around his wide shoulders as you looked at him—really looked at him, now that you had the time. He was smiling of course, glowing almost; eyes tracing down the curve of your neck with a predatory lick of his lips. You wiped a white smudge of sunscreen from his cheeks and finally pulled off his hairband, letting the copper curls fall freely over his sun kissed freckles. Then you pressed your lips to his, without inhibition, and the flood gates opened.

Garreth groaned at your exuberance, fingers grasping eagerly at your flimsy vest top that peeled away from heated skin with a mere suggestion. He didn’t stop there, apparently desperate to see you completely bare in the back of your car with no regard for the consequences. Perhaps it was the sweltering heat that urged him onwards, the cracked window doing little to help. What little layers clothed you came off, his lips and hands trailing silent love letters to every peak and crevice. He nibbled at the nape of your neck as your face buried in his hair, the scent of him drawing out your own tongue; he shuddered as you laved at his ear, the skin salty from sweat.

“Is this all because I caught the attention of that scout or are we celebrating something else?” he murmured into your ear, making you shudder as his breath caressed your skin.

You were down to just your knickers now whilst Garreth still wore his shorts, the thin fabric leaving no doubt as to how much he was enjoying the attention. The playing field wasn't quite even. 

“That, and I want to make it perfectly clear that you're well and truly mine.”

He chuckled and lifted his hips as you slid off his lap to tug down his shorts. “There's nobody else here, babe.”

“Well they can imagine where I dragged you off to.”

His underwear peeled off with them, the rolled fabric falling to the footwell with a gentle thump. You weren't paying the slightest bit of attention to where any item of clothing had ended up when Garreth sat entirely naked in front of you. He looked rather pleased with himself, stretched out in what little space there was with his arms behind his head and his heavy cock laying proud across his abdomen. 

You just about suppressed a groan as you dipped your head, much to his surprise, bracing your hand on his thigh as you took him into your mouth without a second thought. Garreth gasped and swore, fingers winding their way into your hair from the first teasing lick. His scent was heavy, musky, but by no means unpleasant, and the salt on your tongue tasted like victory. His girth filled your mouth, every moan stifled somewhere deep in your throat. 

“Fuck, fuck…” Garreth whispered, his voice hoarse and laced with desire.

You kept a steady rhythm with a hand firmly planted at the back of your head whilst the other roamed the bare expanse of your skin—tracing the contours of your back with a featherlight touch that belied his complete loss of control. His hips snapped up to meet your mouth, almost choking you in the process.

“Babe, I'm gonna come if you keep this up.”

With a final firm lick up the length of him, your mouth left his cock swollen and twitching against his stomach once again. You smiled up at him, hair mussed and a faint sheen of sweat beginning to form across your body. 

“Don't you dare.”

“Come here then,” he grinned, tapping his leg whilst simultaneously manhandling you on top of him.

Garreth buried his face against your chest, groaning into the flesh, ready to devour. You played idly with his fiery curls in a blissful haze as his tongue flicked and twirled around your nipples; teeth grazed those sensitive peaks and you toed the line between exquisite pleasure and pain. You pulled at his hair in response, his ensuing moans causing a ripple of arousal, a flutter deep in your very core.

“Gar…”

His name sighed so sultrily seemed to spark something in him. Strong hands gripped your waist and pulled you against his broad chest, holding you firm, and before you could question a thing he brought you down on his cock. He impaled you in one swift motion, leaving you breathless with the sudden fullness. Your mouth fell open in shock, clinging to him so tightly a more fragile man might have broken. But he didn't shatter, not even as your nails raked his skin and drew blood. His teeth nipped at your neck, the familiar sting of fresh bruises blooming.

Your hips moved of their own accord, slowly at first but growing more insistent. One drawback to being crammed into your car was that your head bumped on the roof the more enthusiastic you were bouncing. 

“Fucking…car…” 

Laughing at the ridiculousness but still frustrated you slowed your pace and leaned back, rolling your hips until you found that sweet spot. Your moans entwined in the muggy air, a blissful delirium taking over. Garreth's head fell back against the headrest but still his eyes lingered on you, lidded and full of hunger as they flitted across bare swathes of skin to meet your own gaze. His hand cupped your arse, squeezing in rhythm to your movements whilst the other trailed a path down your waist to your hips, his thumb pressing firm against your clit.

A great swell of relief, pleasure flooding every extremity until your body threatened to fall apart under his digit’s tight circles. You looked at him so deep in concentration whilst he brought you to the edge, licking his lips in anticipation as your legs started to shake. 

“Are you going to be a good girl and come for me?” he teased. 

You could only manage to stutter a ‘yes’ before the coiling tension snapped and launched a thrilling cascade of pleasure through your already limp body. You fell against Garreth, his arms ready to catch you as you rode out your orgasm, muttering sweet nothings in your ear. Tangled in his hair, whimpering until the last wave.

He was still buried inside you as you stilled, so very tired but still wet and willing. You felt the twitch of his cock, his steadily thrusting hips that yearned for more. Your own legs quaked as you adjusted yourself, ready to start your gentle rocking once again, but Garreth had other ideas.

Eyes glittering and practically feral, they bore into you with such intensity it made your heart skip a beat. He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger—as if you needed to be guided to look at him—and he smiled at your blissfully dazed expression, satisfied that he'd done his job.

“Let me take over, okay?”

Garreth didn't wait for your assent, pulling you in for a searing kiss, his arm locking around your waist. You were pinned against him, sweat-slick skin pressed hot together. You expected him to flip you over, struggle around on the tiny back seats, but instead he lifted you off him, until only the very tip of his cock remained nestled inside your heat.

You whined at the loss of him, grasping at his hair. 

“What—”

His answer came with a hard thrust from below. He held you tight, hovering just inches above his lap as he drove his cock inside you again and again. It was beyond comprehension how he had enough energy after his match to fuck you so hard, but he was absolutely relentless in chasing his release. Moans, whimpers and the wet slap of skin created a deafening cacophony. You tried to form a coherent plea, but it was swallowed by Garreth's greedy kisses, his tongue delving deep into your mouth.

“Ha-...harder,” you managed to sigh against his lips.

“Harder? God, you're such a fucking greedy girl.”

You grinned deliriously as Garreth laced his fingers into your hair and did exactly as you asked. His pace was brutal, and so deliciously bruising; Garreth fucked as rough as he played rugby, if you so asked for it. 

His breath was starting to falter, you felt the hitch against his chest and the sharp intakes of air as he stole your very oxygen. He was close, so close.

“Gonna come for me?” You echoed his earlier tease.

“Mmmh-...gonna fill you up.” 

You whined into his mouth, walls fluttering around his cock as you felt another orgasm mounting. Garreth moaned louder now, squeezing his eyes shut, his mouth delving against your neck to leave yet more love bites in the throes of passion. They would remind you of this very moment, such treasured momentos. As he drew your skin between his teeth, your orgasm hit, and so did his.

You fell into his lap in a heap as he lost control of his limbs, cock pulsing and filling you with hot ropes of his release. His muscles twitched and body shuddered, the suction on your neck abating until his head fell back.

He was beautiful this way—mouth agape with kiss-swollen lips of cherry red, the flush of his skin a delicate rose beneath smatterings of freckles. His eyelids fluttered over mossy irises, glittering and unfocused in his fucked-out daze. The corners of his mouth curved into a smirk as his body finally relaxed, every last drop of energy spent. His release had filled you so completely, but you didn't squirm, only relished the way it felt dripping down your thighs.

“Congratulations, Gar,” you said with a breathless giggle, laying your head against his shoulder.

Garreth kissed your head and stroked your hair, so gentle in contrast to how he'd been only seconds before that spoke volumes of his love for you. His embrace was safety and happiness.

“I definitely feel like a winner today.”

[yatagarasuhonyaku]

Chapter of the White Lilies: Winter's Young Tiger

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. This is a short story originally written for a japanese magazine and later compiled in one of the Ravens' Hundred Flowers books.

Blog version

For other translations, you can find them HERE

Timeline: At the start of The Raven Doesn't Choose its Master

Characters (in order of relevance): Ichiryuu, Yukiya, Yukima

Synopsis: Ichiryuu, the third son of the Shimaki Township Lord, wastes his days away picking fights and fooling around, unable to decide on the future, until a certain fateful encounter...

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

War cries resounded under the clear winter sky.

The air was so cold his breath came out in white puffs, yet his entire body was boiling. Boys under 15 stood on two opposite sides, facing each other in an abandoned field close to the town plaza. It was four against ten. The enemy side had the advantage.

——Fine with him.

The weak were prone to gather together anyway. There was no way he was going to lose.

A boy came straight for him, his voice raised in a cry—the other side’s ringleader, who had picked a fight with him the other day.

“Ichiryuu! I’ve had enough of your bossy ass, today is the day I’m taking you down a notch!”

Despite their similar ages, the boy was noticeably bigger and thicker than him. For Ichiryuu, however, who trained against adults all the time, that wasn’t much of a problem. He gracefully dodged the club aimed at him and snorted as he screamed back.

“And you got some real cheek there! Go home and look at yourself in the mirror, you ugly ass!”

“Huuuh!? Look who's talking, have you looked at yourself?”

“Wanna fight, you piece of shit!?”

Ichiryuu sneered at his opponent. The boy screamed as he raised his weapon once more, but Ichiryuu closed the gap between them in a flash. The other boy’s eyes opened wide in astonishment—he couldn’t react at all.

“Idiot,” Ichiryuu muttered.

He raised his fist keenly, hitting the boy right on his saggy chin.

“Yocchan!” a boy on the other side shouted.

His opponent, who had been bragging until just a moment ago, swayed for a bit as his eyes went white. He fell to the ground, knocked out.

“Yocchan! Pull yourself together, Yocchan!”

“Dammit, we won’t forget this!”

Ichiryuu watched as they picked their leader up from the ground and ran away, tails between their legs. He gave an exasperated sigh as they left.

“Truly, what a bunch of idiots...” he said just as his own underlings surrounded him in between shouts of joy.

“Classic Ichiryuu!”

“And you did it in one hit! Again!”

“And with those numbers! I was scared for a second there, and still!”

“Wait,” Ichiryuu frowned, “you were scared of those small fries? Are you for real?”

“I mean, there were twice as many of them!”

“That’s not a situation you can normally win!”

“Well, Ichiryuu is just that strong!”

“He may well be, like, the strongest in the North?”

“Cut it out. It just means they were that weak…” Ichiryuu laughed, basking in the pure admiration in their eyes. “Although, well, yeah, the title of the Strongest in the North may actually be on point!”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

“Ain’tcha getting a bit carried away, huh, Ichiryuu!?” a man said, slapping him with such force that Ichiryuu was sent flying. His body pierced the nearby shoji screen, pulling out even the frame, before finally landing on the floor.

“That hurts! What the hell, bro!?”

A teary-eyed Ichiryuu lay on the floor, his hand covering his bruised cheek. In front of him, stood three very angry men.

“Isn’t it about damn time you stop wasting your life away, huh!?”

“What were you even thinking!? Picking fights with kids from other territories!”

“Do you even realize who you are!? The son of the Township Lord!”

In order, the men yelling at him were none other than his father, the family’s eldest brother, and the middle brother. His father held the position of the Lord in Shimaki Township of the North. His rank was high enough to face high-ranking nobles from the Center, yet the man stood out mostly because of his big, strong physique. He was built like a boulder and kids cried when they saw him smile.

The Northern Region was the land of sake brewers and warriors. Farmlands were scarce. Its sake business, however, used the local water, which was remarkably pristine, and thrived beyond belief.

On top of that, every village, no matter how small, had at least one dojo. Even its farmers, who usually focused on tilling the land, could just as easily become soldiers in times of need. The majority of the population were part-time soldiers, such was the nature of the land. This was why a man like his father, who looked more like an actual walking rock than a member of the nobility and terrified others no matter how friendly he tried to look, was actually highly welcome as a leader. 

Ichiryuu’s brothers greatly resembled their father and had the people’s wholehearted trust as well. In fact, the eldest was already hard at work as the Township’s future Lord and the middle brother was a graduate from the Unbending Reed Monastery and a high-ranking military officer. He was part of the personal guard for the Imperial Family in the Center.

For the North, raising the talents within the territory was of the utmost priority. As long as you had the gift for it, the door was open for anyone to become a warrior instead of a soldier. And, for the most talented even among such warriors, the Unbending Reed Monastery was the place to go.

In comparison to his accomplished brothers, Ichiryuu was just a problem child. He was the youngest, whose fate was still undetermined, and he spent his days fooling around in a gang with the other local kids his age.

“You’re getting close to your coming of age and having to think about your future. How about you take your own life seriously for a change?” his father admonished him with a grumble.

Offended by that, Ichiryuu pouted. “Leave me alone! I’m actually giving it a lot of thought, you know.”

There were two main possibilities for someone like Ichiryuu: to become a Township officer and help out his father and eldest brother, or to become a high-ranking military officer like his middle brother. And yet, he couldn't make himself choose. While he had absolutely no intention of working a desk job, he felt absolutely no joy either at the idea of following his brother's steps and going to the Monastery.

“You arrogant little shit, how dare you to speak like that in front of your father! If you have plans, go ahead and say so. We're waiting, and you better not try your luck with any excuses,” the middle brother threatened him.

He was the one who had sent him flying a moment ago.

Said middle brother had just come home for a visit after quite the lengthy absence. Which was good and all, but the news of Ichiryuu's pointless squabbling seemed to have only made him immediately see red.

The mere idea of following the same path as him, the most boorish of the three brothers, vexed Ichiryuu very much. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn’t help but wish his brother would realize his behavior was the actual reason for Ichiryuu's indecisiveness for the future.

“Erhm, I’m not becoming a Township officer, for starters.”

“Yeah, I could guess that much. You don't have the brains required,” his eldest brother earnestly agreed with him. It pissed Ichiryuu off, but, as he couldn't come up with a good counter-argument, he chose to let it be.

“Then what do you plan to do? Go to the Monastery like I did?” The middle brother glared at him.

Ichiryuu shook his head once more. “No. It's not like I’m obligated to go to the Monastery just because I have the skill for it, right?”

“Then what are you planning to do?”

“Well, become a wandering bodyguard, perhaps?”

That way he could still protect his homeland, turn into a guardian of sorts. Ah yes, Ichiryuu, the Guardian Deity of Shimaki. It had a good ring to it. He had said it without thinking, in the heat of the moment, but it truly was an inspired idea.

“You…”

“You're truly an awe-inspiring idiot…….”

His brothers gave him looks of pity, and Ichiryuu frowned. What was their problem?

“You may not know it, but I'm actually quite feared out there. They even call me the ‘Tiger of Shimaki’!”

“What? That’s fucking lame!”

“Now, let me warn you. You'll deeply, deeply regret what you said right now in ten years. I'm willing to bet on it. It's a guarantee,” his eldest brother said with conviction.

However, his father, who was now standing at the back, seemed to be impressed unlike his brothers. “Oh, now that explains everything! That's why your haori had this thing on the back!”

Ichiryuu had no idea when he had gotten his hands on it, but it turned out his father was holding Ichiryuu’s long haori—the same one he had dropped off in a hurry the moment he arrived home—and was giving it a good, hard look. Its black fabric was decorated with golden embroidery. It depicted an imposing leaping tiger and a swaying willow tree.

The middle brother backed away at first, letting out a scandalized gasp, before ever so slowly coming closer to examine it. “Where did you even get this foul, gaudy thing……?”

“He sewed it himself, apparently. He even bought the fabric and thread with his allowance. Isn't he good?” his father explained.

The color in both brothers’ faces faded.

“Are you serious? I didn't know that.”

“Why even go that far! Are you a tailor now?”

“Shut up! Why is that a problem? I just didn't want to bother anyone with it.” Ichiryuu stood up and forcefully took the haori from his father's hands.

At that moment, another voice interrupted the scene.

“Shutting up? Who!?” It was the angriest, loudest yell of the day so far. “I could hear you all from the front of the house. How about you shut those dirty traps of yours right now, you bunch of idiots!?”

The three brothers balked in horror upon seeing the tiny figure running towards them.

“Mum!” Ichiryuu screamed.

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s ‘mother’ to you.”

From the looks of it, she had come all the way from the kitchen. Immediately after her arrival, she proceeded to hit Ichiryuu on the side of the head with a rice paddle. “I truly cannot believe you! Why are you so damn hopeless? How about learning a thing or two from the Taruhi kids, huh!?”

Something in Ichiryuu, who was busy rubbing his head in pain, snapped when he heard her yell.

Taruhi Township were their neighbors and, by some chance, its Lord also had three sons. To make matters worse, the eldest and the middle brother were born barely a year apart, which meant they were both around Ichiryuu's age. Given their similar ages and circumstances, the three of them were constantly compared to each other.

“Now that I can't ignore! ‘Kids’, what's up with that plural? I'll take Yukima, fine, but I'm so much better than Yukiya.”

Yukima was the future Lord in Taruhi and one of those brilliant people who had it all: he was intelligent, good looking, and had a frankly pleasing personality. On top of that, he had been getting fairly decent results at the Northern Region’s tournaments, held twice a year. Ichiryuu wasn’t going to deny that Yukima had promise.

Yukiya, his slightly younger brother, on the other hand... 

He was the complete opposite of Yukima: dumb as a rock, not what you would call good looking, and a complete coward. In other words, a walking failure. At tournament matches, he would start sobbing the very instant it started and then immediately throw the bamboo sword away. Battling him was considered a completely free win among the Northern kids. 

Meanwhile, Ichiryuu wasn't the best when it came to studying, that much he was willing to admit, but his looks were most certainly not bad at all and he was courageous. On top of that, he had full confidence that his skills in arms were the best regardless of status.

Being considered inferior to Yukiya of all people was something he couldn't stand.

“He even caused trouble just the other day, didn't he? No matter how you put it, we aren't even in the same category.”

It happened during the New Year’s Greetings at the Northern Lord's Main Residence. According to the rumors, he fought with some guy and lost in quite the dramatic way, much to the Northern Lord's exasperation.

“Well, you may say that, but Taruhi's middle son was chosen to serve at the Court right after that,” his eldest brother said.

Ichiryuu let out a half-maddened scream. “Huh, why!? What's up with that? Court Service of all things?”

“I’ve heard that, from this spring onwards, he'll be working as one of His Highness Wakamiya's attendants.”

“His Highness Wakamiya's attendant…” Ichiryuu repeated, dumbfounded.

Wakamiya. The Crown Prince, in other words. The man that would one day rule all of Yamauchi. He had been studying abroad in the ‘Outside’, but he had returned a short while ago. The Rite of Ascension, the event to select his legal wife out of the Four Houses, was also supposed to start soon.

If he became the attendant of such a noble personage, Yukiya's future was all but secured. For Ichiryuu, who had until then been fully convinced Yukiya would spend his entire life shamelessly leeching off Taruhi, the news came out of nowhere.

“Whatever the excuses, he's doing just fine. Compared to that, you…” His mother clicked her tongue.

“Wait!” Ichiryuu screamed. “It makes no sense! Why Yukiya? And all of a sudden!”

“Probably because, despite appearances, he's actually giving his situation proper thought,” the middle brother added with a laugh.

“Impossible!” Ichiryuu yelled again. “Don't go assuming stupid things like that. As if he could give anything ‘proper thought’! I'm stronger and, most likely, also way smarter.”

“The biggest question here is where exactly you get that self-confidence from. It's admirable, somehow,” interjected his very exasperated middle brother.

The eldest, meanwhile, gave him a forced smile. “Taruhi's middle son has a different mother. He probably got a recommendation because of something related to that.”

This was the first time he had heard of that. Ichiryuu's eyes widened. “Really?”

“I don't know the finer details, but it was a whole deal. She's dead, but from what I’ve heard his mother’s status was much higher than the current legal wife’s.”

“In short, that's all it took to decide his future.”

——Yukiya, someone so clearly inferior to him, getting such a nice deal? Just like that? Only because of his blood?

“That's unfair!” Ichiryuu winced.

“Ryuu.” His father, who had been silent until then, called out to him with a gentle look on his face. “Before talking about others, you should first give some thought to what being a Township Lord's son truly entails. How can you even consider going to the Court when you don’t know how to behave as an aristocrat?”

“Since when are we ‘aristocracy’? Dad, do you know what our people call the Lord's Residence?”

Inspired by the castle’s atmosphere up in the mountains, they had given it the affectionate name of the ‘Bandits’ Den’. His father's rough, stone-like face blushed as he heard that, and he turned to his wife.

“Oh, my dear……. Shinobu, it must be because you're such a beauty, there’s no doubt about it! You must look like a princess kidnapped by bandits to them.”

“Oh, dear. Don't say things like that in front of the kids.”

“It's just the truth, my dear.”

Faced by their blushing, bashful parents, the brothers immediately felt a chill. ‘There they are, at it again.’ ‘I can't stand this.’ ‘What are they doing at their age?’ The brothers’ thoughts stood united, yet their father couldn't care less: their only option was to wait until their parents were done flirting.

Shinobu, their mother, wasn't a noblewoman by birth. On the contrary, she was a female warrior who won her position as the Lord's legal wife by sheer power. She trounced every single rival at a martial arts tournament. Even now, years later, it only took her one hand to manhandle her huge sons, and she prided herself as the strongest in the Shimaki Lord’s Residence.

Their mother was tiny, had a mean look in her eyes, and an utterly foul mouth on top of that. In other words, even from the perspective of a very loving relative, her appearance was at most utterly average and, rather than a princess, she had the aura of a legitimate bandit. Yet, for some reason, she was the most beautiful princess in the entire world in their father's eyes.

After quite some time spent flirting, their father finally noticed his sons’ looks. He coughed as if to get their attention.

“Anyway! You told us you wanted to become a wandering bodyguard, didn't you? If you're serious about that, I’m not against it. I'll give you my full support, even. However.” His father looked like the very picture of authority, the polar opposite of how he had acted just a moment ago with his mother. “Right now, I can tell you aren’t actually serious about it. If you keep saying whatever first comes to mind, I'll use all my power to beat that hesitation out of you.”

Ichiryuu had no way to fool his way out. His father meant every word.

“If you are going to go to the Monastery, it's about time to start preparations in earnest; you better give it some hard, proper thought. Are we good?” his father emphasized.

At his side stood his mother, who glared at him with her arms crossed, with his brothers, who were looking at him menacingly, in the other. Ichiryuu sat square on the cold dirt floor, clearly unhappy with the entire situation.

Finally, he answered with the only option he had been given.

“Yes.”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

In the North, a huge martial arts tournament took place twice every year at the biggest temple. It was a prelude of sorts to the Good Crops and Rice Harvest Festivals(1), and skilled underage boys from all corners of the region gathered there to participate. Its purpose was to choose who would take part in the dedicatory match as an offering on the day of the festival itself.

For any commoner boy who had his sights set on the Monastery, it was the perfect chance to prove himself in front of people influential enough to give them a recommendation. In fact, there were also Monastery instructors in attendance every year. And, for the boys born in the North’s many warrior families, it was the best chance to show off the hardwon results of their training.

The sky was clear, with no clouds in sight, and the curtains hanging from the temple’s eaves flapped magnificently in the wind. It was the very last day of winter, at least according to the calendar, and yet the day was just as cold as usual. White puffs came out from people's mouths and a good warmup was a hard requisite to even hope to move properly.

Ichiryuu was very much used to fighting outside in the cold, however, so this was just more of the same to him. Just like that, he took yet another impressive and graceful victory in front of the shivering spectators.

“White, one point!”

As the crowd cheered, Ichiryuu turned towards them, lifting his bamboo sword up high. He had just won his third round, and his opponent had been none other than Yukima of Taruhi, the same boy Ichiryuu's family was so intent on wanting him to be like.

“You're just as strong as always, Ichiryuu.” A cheerful Yukima was the one to approach him first, once they were done with the customary bows.

His cheeks were flushed and his hair was messy, but he sported an easy-going expression that spoke of the quality of his upbringing. This, combined with his good looks, meant that a group of fawning girls had gathered close by. Ichiryuu couldn't be happier to have taken that victory against him in front of them.

“Well, of course. I'm the ‘Tiger of Shimaki’, after all.”

“Ah, I really don't hate that side of you,” he laughed, “but don’t expect me to follow you on that.”

Unsure about what Yukima meant, Ichiryuu was about to ask him. However, Yukima waved his hand in farewell before he got the chance. “My brother's match is next so I have to go. See you later!”

Even his back as he ran away was graceful.

“How can he look so cool even though he lost.”

“That's a future Township Lord for you……” 

He hadn’t realized it until now, but his friends were already standing behind him. Two of them had joined the tournament as well, but they had lost almost immediately so they had decided to stay around to cheer Ichiryuu on instead. His parents and eldest brother were expected to be in attendance by the Northern Lord's seat, which meant that his friends were the only ones with Ichiryuu on the field.

“I won, though,” he spouted, his tone flatter than he himself expected.

“But, of course! You were the coolest, Ichiryuu!”

“There's no need to sulk!”

“I'm not sulking.”

Yet all that euphoria from before had vanished entirely. Ichiryuu silently followed his friends, who were still frantically trying to comfort him, as they walked in the same direction as Yukima. They arrived at a venue in the corner of the precincts, delimited by a white square and completely surrounded by people. They had arrived just in time. That guy was just exchanging bows with his opponent. 

The guy’s face was the very picture of insecurity. He was none other than Yukiya, the failure of a second son of Taruhi. His hair was fluffy and unruly, and he had a red headband on his head. He was small and poorly built for his age and, unlike Yukima, his features could hardly be defined as attractive.

“You can do it, Yukiya!” A small child raised his voice from the side of the venue. Taruhi's third son, most likely. Beside him stood Ichiryuu’s last opponent, Yukima, who could only watch over his brother with worry painted all over his face. 

“Start!” the judge yelled.

Yukiya’s opponent, who was wearing a white headband, raised his voice the moment the match started, going for an attack. Yukiya visibly trembled at the sight, the tip of his sword unreliably shaking up and down.

Ah, truly a lost cause.

In the time it took Ichiryuu to think that, Yukiya’s opponent closed the distance between the two of them and, of all things to do, Yukiya chose to close his eyes. And just as Ichiryuu had expected, the match was over in barely an instant.

“...... To think a guy like that is going to be His Highness Wakamiya's attendant. The world may as well be ending.”

Pointless as it all was in the end, Ichiryuu's irritation only grew as he watched Yukiya’s brothers comfort him. Mere thoughtless whining out of jealousy, and yet his friends immediately took the bait. It wasn't exactly subtle.

“I know! You would do so much better than him, Ichiryuu.”

“His older brother could manage just fine, yes, but that guy? He's probably going to embarrass us all here in the North.”

“Exactly!” Ichiryuu wholeheartedly agreed.

Ever since they had arrived, Yukiya's future attendant work at the Center had turned out to be a popular conversation topic. From what he had learned from the many rumors circulating, there was another different nobleman who was originally supposed to do it. However, he mistook Yukiya for a commoner and fought with him. In the end, he actually hurt Yukiya. Giving up the honor to his victim had been his punishment. 

Of course, to hurt someone just because he's a commoner was in no way acceptable behavior. Ichiryuu genuinely thought the punishment was necessary and fitting. That said, he could see how someone could mistake Yukiya for someone of lower birth, and he couldn't stand knowing that, ultimately, Yukiya's entire future was decided only on the grounds of his superior lineage. It made him sick.

“But what if he started that fight knowing what would happen? The cunning of it!”

“No way, don't say scary things like that!”

“I mean, using his brains instead of his non-existent strength. It sounds like something a noble would do, don’t you think?”

Ichiryuu snorted at his friend's words. “As if Yukiya is smart enough to do that. He probably just got lucky.”

It seemed his friends had quite unrealistic expectations about rural nobility. His argument didn't seem to convince them, however, as they just muttered on.

“Maybe you're right, yes.”

“But there's still a chance he did it knowingly, ain't there?”

Ichiryuu followed Yukiya with his eyes as he left the venue, drinking some water from a bamboo bottle. “I’ve heard his mother is from a good family. Don’t you think that, if he truly were the kind to pull off something like that, he could just depose Yukima and take over as the next Township Lord instead? Not like he can actually do that, mind you,” Ichiryuu spitefully spat out. “If lineage were truly all you needed to triumph, there wouldn't be any point to working as hard as we do.”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

In the end, Ichiryuu took third place at the tournament. There were Monastery trainees-to-be taking part in the tournament this particular year, so it was safe to say those were some excellent results. As much as it was a shame he couldn't get first place, at least it meant he didn't need to take part in the dedicatory match the next day. In that particular sense, one could even say that third was the ideal placement.

Now that his matches were over, the only thing left to do was to enjoy himself at the festival, taking place at the North's biggest city, before coming back home. The Good Crops Festival was also the first chance to drink the sake that had matured during wintertime. That was the following day, however. That night, last fall's sake was everywhere instead, and the path to the temple was filled with plenty of food stalls as well.

Ichiryuu had barely gotten the chance to take a peek or two in-between matches, but he still got to enjoy the strong aroma of grilling soy drifting from the massive pots, filled with boiling salty-sweet konjak balls, and to see some skewers of miso-marinated chicken dripping with golden oil.

Ichiryuu, happy thinking about everything he was going to eat, was about to take off his training uniform when a voice interrupted him. “Excuse me… Ichiryuu?”

He turned around and his expression hardened. Brown, unruly hair stood right under his line of sight: a short boy was looking up at him. Yukiya of Taruhi, of all people.

Their relationship went as far as playing together from time to time when they were kids, whenever there was a reunion at the Northern Lord's Main Residence. He wasn't someone he wanted to be close to now that they were older, however. He had no idea of what Yukiya could want from him, but he fully intended to appease him just enough to get him out of the way and go play as soon as possible.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Yukiya’s request was about.

“Teach you some basics? Me?”

“Yes. I've, well, lost all my matches today too…” Yukiya said, shriveled up like a leaf in autumn. “It'll be really bad if I keep going like this, so I wanted to get some advice from you, Ichiryuu.”

“Now, my question is, why does it have to be me? You’re going to the Center very soon too, right? There’ll surely be some busybodies in Taruhi willing to teach you.” His answer turned out way more sarcastic than he had originally intended, but Yukiya didn't seem to notice it.

“Still!” He answered energetically, “I really want you, Ichiryuu, to teach me. Every mentor in Taruhi is already getting up in years……. So, I thought that surely I could learn something useful if I train with someone strong and closer to my age. And you were so, so cool today, Ichiryuu.”

“R-Really?”

Ah, it truly wasn't such a bad feeling. To be looked up to with wholehearted admiration like that.

“Please! Even if it's just for a moment, I really don't mind!”

Well, to be completely fair, it wasn't like Yukiya himself had done anything wrong. He may have been a bit too harsh with all the jealous talk. Besides, there was something cute about how he had come all the way to ask him for help like that. Commendable, even.

Ichiryuu glanced at the window. He could see the red sky through the lattice, and his friends had told him they would go ahead to watch the kagura(2) songs and dances. There was still some time before the meetup.

“Well, if you insist that much… I'll give you a lesson or two.”

“Really? Actually, I already got a dojo for it,” Yukiya said innocently.

He brought Ichiryuu to a small building. It had been used as a waiting room for the tournaments’ participants during the day, but everyone seemed to have left a long while ago. It had been so lively just a few hours ago, and yet now you couldn't see a soul around. 

“They told me they don't use it for big matches like the ones today, but it's actually a training dojo. When I explained to them that I wanted to practice on my own, they said I could use it as much as I wanted.”

Yukiya explained as he went and lit up candles in the corners. Then, once that was done, he returned to the entrance and used both hands to carefully close the door. It was well-waxed and moved with ease, sliding into position with a soft tap.

“Now……” Yukiya turned back to him, his face illuminated from the side by soft candle light. There was a carefree, toothy smile on his lips. “Thank you for your guidance.”

“No worries,” Ichiryuu said cheerfully.

He went to the side of the dojo, where they kept the bamboo swords, and picked up one in as good a state as possible. They had no one to act as the judge, but it should be just fine. He could just point out anything he noticed as they trained, much like his own instructor did with him. Ichiryuu stood at the starting line and bowed.

“Thank you for having me,” they said to each other and Ichiryuu readied his position, bamboo sword in hand.

——It didn’t take him too long to realize something was wrong.

For the first few matches, everything was fine. Ichiryuu would just correct Yukiya: ‘Your pose is off.’ ‘Work on that leg coordination.’ It was only later that he started to notice the wrongness of it all.

Yukiya held his sword as he pitifully shrunk into a ball, making his body as small as possible. His grip didn’t seem strong at all to him. He looked outright defenseless, to put it plainly, yet Ichiryuu’s blows didn't land as they should. Every time he tried to attack, Yukiya would let out some kind of pathetic scream and then, somehow, flawlessly stop or deflect the hit.

Disconcerted, Ichiryuu backed down for a second. He studied Yukiya for a while, but the boy simply looked back at him with dread.

“...... What's up? Aren't you going to attack?” Ichiryuu challenged him.

With anxiety all over his face, Yukiya finally went on the offensive. It was a weak attempt. Ichiryuu had no problems whatsoever countering it, and immediately closed in for a blow of his own. Yet, somehow, Yukiya warded him off. His sword slashed the air.

For a moment, Ichiryuu simply couldn't believe it. He had put some actual effort into that one.

Meanwhile, Yukiya was still giving him the same old pitiful look. He even went and tilted his head, as if wondering what was wrong. And yet, Ichiryuu couldn't help but feel something off lurking in his eyes.

Indignant, Ichiryuu sighed and finally gave a loud shout as he went on the offensive again. This time around, he wasn’t going to underestimate his opponent, not one bit. Whether it was because he had noticed Ichiryuu's change in attitude or not, Yukiya's stance quickly shifted as well. His entire body relaxed and he fixed his center of gravity. Just like that, his previously deplorable footwork became buttery smooth.

Most importantly, however, were his eyes: there was no fear whatsoever in them anymore.

Seeing red, Ichiryuu cursed to himself. He put his everything into his next attacks. He tried to strike, to stab, time and time again, and yet it was to no avail. Every hit found itself rebuffed, deflected, or otherwise warded off. Despite actually trying his hardest to get a point, nothing would work on Yukiya. Most infuriatingly, the boy didn't try to counterattack even once, no matter how many openings there were.

Gradually, Ichiryuu's breath picked up. His arms felt heavier by the moment and he could taste blood in his mouth. His sight blurred, and he realized his own dripping sweat was the cause.

He slashed down with all his strength, and Yukiya finally managed to completely block him. For a moment, neither side moved.

“Is that all?” Despite the clashing swords, Yukiya’s voice and expression didn’t betray a sign of actual effort. “You're supposed to teach me the basics, right? So what's next? Please, teach me more.”

Ichiryuu's arms trembled: he was being pushed back. He couldn't tell when, but Yukiya’s gaze had, at some point, turned into that of an entirely different person. It was cold, terrifyingly so.

“Come on…… I’m telling you. Do it. Now!”

That instant, Yukiya vanished from his sight.

Before Ichiryuu even got a chance to tell what was happening, he felt something hit his legs. With a tumble, he plunged to the ground. He somehow managed to break off the fall safely, but it was already too late. He looked up. There was Yukiya, sporting a vicious smile from ear to ear and raising his sword as high as he could.

Ichiryuu didn't even have time to cover his face with his arms. Before he knew it, he was being assaulted by the sharp agonizing pain of a neverending flurry of blows. It felt like hail crashing all over his body.

“Huh? What's wrong, Ichiryuu? Is this truly all you can do?”

Ichiryuu let out a pained shriek and made an attempt to escape. It was pointless. The moment he tried to move away, Yukiya kicked him with all his strength.

“You sure are all bark and no bite, huh?” Yukiya laughed as he kept ruthlessly hitting the fallen Ichiryuu over and over again.

Bang. Bang. Bangbang.

The blows were so fast, he could swear the sounds they made were overlapping into one single cacophony. Ichiryuu pleaded, ‘stop, please, I'm begging you’, countless times. Finally, Yukiya's arm stopped.

“I-I'm sorry I made fun of you. That's why you're so angry, right? I'll apologize!” Ichiryuu said in between barely suppressed sobs.

“Oh,” Yukiya’s eyes opened wide, “so you were making fun of me. Didn’t know.”

And, just like that, he had made his situation exponentially worse.

Ichiryuu could feel his consciousness threatening to leave him as a sneering Yukiya picked him up by the collar. “Well, I can more or less make an educated guess. Not like I actually give a shit about how you feel about me, mind you—but that said, you really, really should think long and hard about your own position before opening that big trap of yours again.”

“My position…?”

“Today, at the tournament venue, you said that I could probably take over the position of Taruhi's Township Lord in the future, didn't you? Because I come from a better family than my brother. And you better not tell me you've forgotten,” Yukiya threatened him.

Ichiryuu audibly gulped. “Nonono! Wait! I did say it, yes, but it was under the assumption that you couldn't actually do it, you know!”

“Shut up! And listen for once in your life!” Yukiya shouted as he punched him in the face. “It doesn't matter what you were thinking. Right now, rumors about it are all over the damn place. Those two lackeys of yours sure like gossiping, huh!?”

“No! Did those two also go through this?” Ichiryuu said, startled.

“Don't look down on me,” Yukiya spat out, “those two actually understood things once I explained it to them all nicely. I'm not angry with them, I'm angry with you.”

“Then, why?”

“So you truly don't realize who you are. Incredible,” Yukiya sighed with heartfelt exasperation as he threw Ichiryuu back onto the floor. “The third son of the Shimaki Township’s Lord, Ichiryuu—an aristocrat. Low or not, it doesn’t matter.”

Yukiya picked his bamboo sword back up. He had thrown it away when he first caught Ichiryuu by the neck. “You may have meant it as some simple jealous banter, but those are still the words of a Lord's son. People will take them at face value. If someone from the Township is saying it, it must be true after all! Stupid as it may be, it gives rumors some credibility. Before you even know it, they spread like wildfire.”

——Before talking about others, you should first give some thought to what being a Township Lord's son truly entails. His father's kind words came back to Ichiryuu in a flash.

“I’m the first one to agree it's stupid for everything to be determined by one's birth, but the fact remains that we benefit from it. And at least I can say with full confidence that I have some idea of what nobility is all about.”

Yukiya slammed the sword against the palm of his own hand. He was looking down on Ichiryuu as if he were the scum of the earth. “You see, the benefits and responsibilities of a noble are equal. The only reason you haven’t had to work until now and got enough training to become third best in the North is because you’re a rural noble. How daring of you, to ignore that and go around acting all jealous of my bloodline. Imagine the disgust that those who heard you spout that crap must have felt.”

Ichiryuu found himself with no way to argue back.

“Now, listen well, Ichiryuu. I have no intention whatsoever of taking my brother's position. I don't have plans to go to the Monastery or the Center, either. I plan to spend my entire life working for my brother's sake under his command. Do you even have the slightest idea of what I've had to go through because of inconsiderate, groundless suspicions such as yours?” As he spoke, Yukiya's face twisted as if in pain.

“I propped up my brother and publicly declared I had no such ambitions. Finally, finally, everything had settled down…… And then, just when the situation had taken yet another turn for the worse because of my work at the Center, you go and open your stupid mouth. All my work gone in a single day, just like that.”

“I-I'm sorry…”

“I don't really need your apologies. Now, stand up, Ichiryuu. Weren't you going to help me train?”

Yukiya slashed the air with his sword. Still on the ground, Ichiryuu dodged the hit and crawled away in another attempt to escape. Yukiya cackled and ever so slowly started to walk after him.

“You aren't a worm. Stop crawling and stand up—if you can, that is,” Yukiya shouted at him. He was clearly enjoying himself.

Then, just at that moment—

“Stop, Yukiya!”

The dojo’s tightly closed door opened in unison with a heartrending cry. Yukima, white as a sheet, appeared at the other side. Yukiya's raised sword stopped in mid-air as his body visibly tensed.

“Brother.”

“Don’t you think that's enough? It's not like Ichiryuu truly meant us any ill.”

Yukima must have been in a hurry to find this place. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he was clearly struggling to breathe. Faced by his older brother, Yukiya looked around, as if he was just thinking about something, and finally lowered his sword.

“Is that an order?”

“What?”

“If you give me the order, I’ll follow it.”

The two brothers intently looked at each other for a while and, in the meantime, Ichiryuu could only pray as he watched them. Finally, a very saddened Yukima broke the silence.

“As the next Township Lord, I order you: stop right now.”

“Understood.”

Yukiya dropped the bamboo sword. Once again, he turned towards Ichiryuu. There was a clear, easy-going smile on his lips. “I don't think it will ever happen, but just in case: better be careful to not ever show any kind of ill will towards Taruhi. If you do, I'll be coming after you with everything I have.”

“I'm sorry, Ichiryuu. He has been going through a lot lately,” Yukima whispered before leaving the place as well. “That said, you should be careful too. We aren't only our own people, you know.”

That second part left a strong impression on Ichiryuu. “So, ‘don't be selfish’, huh… Ouch!”

Using the remaining ointment from the tournament, Ichiryuu took care of his wounds by the dojo’s veranda. Every single one of his wounds could be easily hidden away under his clothes, which was just as surprising as clearly intentional. Yukiya was obviously used to this kind of thing, albeit in a whole different sense than Ichiryuu.

There was a part of him which was shaking in fear and frustrated by what had just happened. Another, however, just felt some form of pity. He couldn't escape a feeling that he had just taken a peek behind the curtain, to the kind of life the Taruhi brothers had lived through.

From the entrance of the temple, he could hear the lively music and people's laughter.

A realization had come to him as well. If Yukiya had actually tried at the tournament, his results would have been completely different. He could feel his mood dampening by the moment. He didn't feel like going out to play, not anymore.

“Aaah, dammit!” Ichiryuu yelled, sprawling on the floor.

His family was the kind to ruthlessly hit each other during fights and throw insults all the time, and they were more like bandits than nobles. Yet, after all this time, he had finally come to notice something: they were truly fortunate, blessed even.

May as well go to the Monastery.

It would make his family happy. Plus, that way he should also be capable of fulfilling that so-called ‘responsibility’ Yukiya had talked about.

——Besides, he did say he wasn't ever going to go there.

Anyway, for the time being, better put the ‘Tiger of Shimaki’ to rest.

——————————————————

1: The festivals usually known as Kinensai (祈年祭), which is indeed to pray for good crops, and Niinamesai (新嘗祭), in which newly harvested rice is offered to the gods by the Emperor. Though they’re only tangentially mentioned, the specific timing of both of them matters, so I found it better to localize them.

2: Kagura (神楽) refers to ritual dances and songs considered sacred by Shintoism and usually performed at shrines.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies, mostly about yesterday’s post!

Anonymous asked:

Red riding hood if Jack was the wolf:

"My, grandmother what big tits you've got!"

Anon, I cackle every time I read this ask. I’m obsessed. Thank you for this image in my head 😭😭😭 DAMN, grandmother!

Anonymous asked:

Hot damn didn't know i needed jack ans diece un their new years outfit .asking out and possibly screwing till like two seconds ago.

Also did you see how gamer boy Lilia looks in his lounge wear?

I feel you, Anon. These two are sneaky as a ship, you don’t think about them until you do, and then you can’t stop… we really couldn’t resist… and these two couldn’t resist each other as well, it seems…

ALSO YES!!! He looks perfect omg I’m so glad we got his thighs and legs, and just as we thought, his pjs look so comfy and very gamer-boy-like...!

fate-muse-club-house asked:

Sam's gonna have to sanitize his whole store when Jacks is done with Deuce.

New Year event is cancelled – the venue is getting immediately sanitised and everyone is quarantined for breathing in too much sex air… horrible!

Anonymous asked:

The only thing getting done on the job there is Deuce

Yeah… instructions were unclear, Jack is working hard, but not in the right way…!

eh-nonnie-mouse asked:

Jack has such big booba, but how much of that is muscle? Is it soft and squishy against Deuce's chest? Is this how he will win the boyfriend wars? (Also is he protecting Deuce's head? Like did Jack slam him against the wall for kisses but was polite enough to protect his noggin?)

This is such a good question! I think they are a little bit soft, soft enough to squish against Deuce’s chest and for Deuce to press his fingers against it, but it’s still pretty muscle-y. So mostly tough, but with a little bit of squish! Perfect for those who don’t like sleeping on softer pillows.

Awwww, Jack protecting Deuce’s head sounds cute…! But I think he just wanted to play with his soft hair… he probably doesn’t even realise what his hands are doing, he is too focused on drooling all over his mouth.

Anonymous asked:

Huh

Maybe that'll make him more decisive

Maybe~

But honestly, I feel like Deuce has this love-triangle curse when the moment he feels like he knows what choice he is going to make, the other boy suddenly comes in and makes him reconsider. I wonder what Ace is going to do to outshine Jack’s New Year Boob glory though hmmmm

characharing asked:

naturally Deuce's the bottom because his ass can flex its muscles on Jack's knot and Ace's dick, y'all. Leona's could but he doesn't have the energy to bother doing so

(this is related to some asks from yesterday)

YES, EXACTLY! Deuce has a talent not a lot of people possess!

And those who do are apparently too lazy to use it, right, Leona..?

characharing asked:

btw do you remember or saw about the reddit guy who got his peen stuck inside a m&m container and kept calling it cylinder while asking for help on reddit

which of the boys would do it, i can see Ace and maybe Deuce (is it a top or bottom thing, i think Deuce could be tricked to do it). Azul would be the funniest tho and more in denial he tried to fuck an m&m container

You know what’s funny, someone sent us an ask about that reddit post a year ago! And I can’t blame neither you nor that Anon, because when you read about a guy getting his cylinder stuck in an m&m container, the first thought you get is “alright so which one of the NRC boys” lol

And I thought I had a proper reply to that written a year ago, BUT NOPE, I just went “alright so which one of the NRC boys” and called it a day lol ALL OF THEM WOULD! In different circumstances…

Ace would definitely be my first guess, all of the freshmen in general. Poor Deuce could easily get tricked… Epel would absolutely get stuck like that too!! Jack and Sebek are a bit too big, but if Sebek got into that situation, he would definitely call it a cylinder lol

Maybe some of the 3rd years have embarrassing stories to tell from when they also were freshmen…

God, now I’m thinking about Azul doing that. Nooo, Azul, you have to stop getting into tiny dark spaces, I know it’s your thing but come on! Get your cylinder free…

[cosmicbrowniebox]

ello ^0^ i saw that you were looking for requests (like 3 months ago but pffffft) and i had a request idea for blue lock if you mind!!!

i was thinking maybe headcanons (or dabbles, whichever format you're more comfortable with!!!) of the blue lock boys falling for someone that's generally an anti-romantic. someone that's very hard to woo and doesn't reciprocate feelings immediately out of hesitation and fear of disappointment. for the characters, i was thinking the karasu yukki and otoya trio (separately) ‼‼ i hope my request isnt too bizarre or simple, byebye!!!

Anon I fear u might have just made my writer's block go away but pls know these might be so OOC because I haven't read much past chapter 100 because I've been busy but here you go :3 (SORRY I DIDNT DO YUKKI N OTOYA I COULDN'T THINK OF ANYTHING) and I hope I did this somewhat justice cus I've been working on this between things for ages now

various blue lock characters x reader (seperate)

ft. reo,karasu,and chigiri

for Reo, i feel like the relationship would be a gamble for his parent's businesses with a competitor's child

would definitely be a situation in he falls first and they fall a bit harder because both Reo and them did not want the relationship and they both had found it weird and didn't expect much

you would definitely be kinda cautious due to not wanting to let yourself get disappointed as you had always been taught because of being in the arranged marriage since you both had been younger when it was decided to benefit both families having always been made to be around each other the reminder of the impending doom you believe would be the marriage because of rumors you had heard since everyone in ur school thought that reo would be one of those rich kids who hop from girl to girl

HE WASNT bro genuinely wanted to be loyal even though both of you had a really rocky connection due to your parents

For chigiri Id think the two of you would meet due to you being their manager for the soccer club pre BLCK but also be kinda 50/50 since you had a bad experience with relationships prior that he had heard about through the team

He thought you hated him at first because he had tried to talk to you once during your first year. After all, he had somewhat noticed u looking at him sometimes during class and thought you were just shy or something, and when he was met with dead silence it was like "So yeah my name is Chigiri your Ln right?" And he was just met with blinks that felt very loud to him

like he was pretty an all but you did not wanna attempt anything at the moment due to you literally not wanting to go through the pain of seeing a breakup again or something

Does the dynamic remind me of kiyoko and tanaka but more toned down? yes but its also like the sun and the moon with being open with relationships because he's feeling more open about it like the sun is open to giving plants nutrients while ur moon isn't as open to it after chasing and chasing what u think will be good for u before deciding to not hope for anything anymore

for Karasu, I think it would be a mix of during the little break Bluelock had before the start of the egoist league arc and he met you while ur friends had caught the attention of Otoya and Aiku and he kinda was like oooo and got really interested in you

At first it was kinda the idea he wanted to chase the fact of you seeming like his type because of the pins on your bag he saw since he saw the same bands he liked on ur bag with little merch he assumed was from a concert

He was absolutely caught off guard because he was immediately met with what he thought was indifference because you didn’t want to let him get too close with knowing that his friends had a reputation for going girl to girl and you didn’t wanna get caught in that

In a way, a lot of it was because you didn’t wanna get hurt but it was also the idea you didn’t want to disappoint yourself if you got wrapped up in a situation with him because of how often football players have to travel for games but it wasn’t the fact he wasn’t attractive it was obvious he was just social but it’s a fact romantically you had to be wooed a bit harder than just some kind words and praise for little things from him

He understood that it wasn’t gonna be easy winning over your affection and he understood that and was willing to try harder if it meant getting a chance with you

let me say this man was actually down badly and willing to wait as long as possible to make sure you knew he had pure intentions

they remind me of like Rukia and Renji from bleach because they both can seem so grumpy and they both don't actually like each other but in reality they absolutely adore each other in private

you n him also give off the energy of not a secret but still private due to the fact of him starting to get farther into the soccer world and he doesn't want fans to be weird asl with you

[cupiohearts]

OHSHC TWST ! ˖ ݁ ♡ . ⠀ ⠀ (fem aligned reader)

first years, dormleaders, second years, the rest

- going to nrc as a scholarship student who was suddenly dropped into a school full of rich kids who have way too much time on their hands.

- RIDDLE ; tsundere type. azul seems to enjoy capitalizing on this idea of riddle. some customers tend to leave him too red in the face (could go both ways) they all leave it to you to fix him back.

- LEONA ; bad boy type. he was the one who got you in this predicament in the first place since he has urges to take sudden naps in random places. you could recall the times when you get encased in his arms and you sit there helplessly with no one around to help.

- AZUL ; suave type. it was a lie, his persona was all a lie and no one believes you besides club members. azul was more of a buisness man rather than an actual host to the club. his charm makes it incredibly easy to accidentally sign a scummy contract. he almost made you sign a marriage document.

- KALIM ; sunshine type. by far the best person to hang around. kalim often drags along JAMIL who has a club position but he doesnt do much hosting as well. you enjoy chatting with jamil because of his mild manners and his understandment of your current situation. kalim when not at the club tails alongside you when doing your average things. what do you mean you dont know what instant coffee is?!

- VIL ; idol type. everyone knew who vil was, the most loveliest in all of nrc (no one is allowed to mention the ones at rsa), pop idol of the century and by far the most unpleasant to be around when you are a peasant. when interacting with vil he often critizes your appearance, when he does compliment you its so hidden you arent even sure if its just a compliment.

- IDIA ; nerdy type ; he didnt go outside very often, opting to discord kitten his customers instead of social interactions. whenever you have time, try to visit him in his mancave. ortho is getting worried his big brother wont ever get a s/o.

- MALLEUS ; babygirl princely type. malleus was an actual prince which had shocked you severely at first. a prince hanging around with the likes of a commoner was certain to make headlines. it doesnt help when hes just so attractive he gets anything he wants. and i mean everything. you met him first when he was just an enigma to you. hanging around daily at night made you two get closer together.

[shadowshrike]

Not including Tav, which party of four companions would you most love to see adventuring together?

My personal pick would be: Gale, Astarion, Halsin, and Jaheira aka the old person squad.

Besides their cutting humor and collective pragmatism, I love how this group can always have one "odd man out" when almost any situation comes up.

Gale - The token human

He may be older than a lot of the other companions, but with these three he's constantly listening to them complain about things that happened before he was born. When he tries to join in by discussing the histories he's read, he usually learns how much his books were missing and is teased for being the child of the group who still has creaky knees. He also has to remind them that he can't see in the dark at least once a tenday.

Astarion - The token non-caster

Oh, he has an affinity for magic when it comes to practical use, but not at all on the level of the other three. There is a great deal of whinging and, when that fails, stealing of unimportant trinkets from the distracted party's pockets whenever they go on for too long about their spellcraft.

Bonus as the token evil guy. Though it's really more the "token evil ideas guy" because the other three, though not prone to his daydreams of wanton sadism, are far less bothered about getting their hands dirty than he expected. Apparently, once you've lived long enough, a lot of things stop being shocking to you even if you disapprove of them.

Halsin - The token country bumpkin

He's traveled much of the world, but despises city life and finds its customs foreign, constantly surprising the other three with enormous gaps in his 'wise old man' persona. Gale tries to teach him about the city (often to excess), Jaheira calls him out for being ignorant at his age, and Astarion finds whatever opportunities he can to humiliate Halsin using civilization for the party's entertainment, though it often backfires.

Jaheira - The token girl

That's not to say her gender has a huge influence on how the others treat her, but it's something they're aware of when it's just the four of them out there. She'd argue it probably makes her self-appointed job of keeping them in line easier. She doesn't hesitate to weaponize her crotchety old woman voice whenever she calls out the "stupid men" for doing foolish things, and it gives her the opportunity to send them to handle any "boy's club" missions on their own while she makes pithy judgements from the sidelines.

I know this is a wildly impractical squad for the game and there is very little canon banter between them. I just think they'd be neat. Though, to be honest, I think most groups of four companions have their own uniquely charming dynamics.

So, what about you? What companion-based adventuring party do you like best?