#so all things considered I’m really delighted with how it shook out

[novelconcepts]

Drawgust day 6: my beloved stoned disaster lesbians

[vyutg]

☆ a little hand during date night?

content ⊂⊃ loser!hanbin x female reader, 18+

️️ ️️️️️️️️️ ️️—

the atmosphere of the cozy restaurant felt just right for a night out with hanbin. as you scanned the menu, you couldn’t help but notice the way he looked at you. those warm, deep eyes full of affection. “what?” you glanced up, your brows raising. your nonchalance was a feeble attempt to mask the fluster rising in your cheeks.

hanbin shook his head and offered you a smile. “you look really cute when you’re trying to decide what to eat.” the sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat.

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “thanks, i guess?” apart from academic endeavors, your loser also never fails to captivate you.

as your dishes arrived, you took the opportunity to lean closer, resting your elbow on the table, and casually brushed your hand against his thigh. hanbin’s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of amusement and anxiety flickering across his face. “do you know how hard it is to concentrate on eating?” you teased, your fingers inching closer to his waistband. “maybe i should help you out.”

hanbin let out a nervous chuckle and darted glances around the busy pub, panic in his eyes as he took in the couple at the next table with their playful banter and the group of friends laughing loudly nearby. “come on, baby, not here,” he replied, his voice low. his face was a delightful shade of pink, and you couldn’t help but fancy the effect you had on him.

“but it’s so tempting,” you continued, playfully biting your lip. “what if i just… i don’t know, gave you a little handjob right here… right now?” you drew your hand back mockingly, pretending to consider your options. his eyes darted around the room. god, you were making him way too nervous!

your fingers once again moved closer to his thigh, brushing against the edge of his bulge, which had begun to respond to your touch. “binnie, just think about it—a little release to make this night more enjoyable, hmm?”

with a chuckle laced with embarrassment, he tried to redirect the conversation, but your excitement was still bubbling over. hanbin looked so cute trying to keep it together. “do you think anyone would notice?” you whispered to him, your fingers still grazing his bulge. you held his gaze, seeing his breath hitch slightly.

“please stop,” he said. “we’re in public.”

“i’m just giving you a little attention,” you retorted, reveling in the game you were playing. as much as the anxiety of getting caught was evident in him, you knew he was still turned on.

you retreated slightly, fingers still lingering on his thigh as the waiter approached you just then, disrupting your playful tension as he politely asked if you needed anything else. hanbin cleared his throat, managing to compose himself just in time to respond, “no, thank you.” you stifled a giggle, well aware that the waiter had no idea how much mischief was brewing beneath the table.

“can we at least wait until we’re not in here?” he pleaded, his hands running through his hair in that way he did when he was flustered. it was hard to take him seriously when he looked like this, all flustered and a little helpless.

“gosh, fine!” you said, feigning a sigh of resignation. “i’ll behave… for now.”

dinner rolled on, with you stealing glances at him every so often. hanbin was trying to focus on the conversation, but every time you caught his eye, you could sense him thinking about what you had said earlier.

one thing about your loser is he isn’t the best at hiding something, hence why you could tell he couldn’t wait for what was to come once you two were out of the restaurant.

© vyutg, 2024.

[edosianorchids901]

The Swiftness of Time

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "watching birds"

Cw: depression, mentions of violence/murder

Paris, 1314

Aziraphale noticed almost immediately that something was wrong. He had known Crowley for over five thousand years, after all. At this point, he recognized most moods.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, sliding a cup of wine to Crowley. It was a very nice Burgundy, much better than the local wine that had been available over the summer.

“Hmm?” Crowley pulled his gaze away from the hunk of bread in his hand. He’d been staring at it rather than eating it for the past few minutes. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked what’s wrong.”

Immediate resistance crossed Crowley’s face, and he shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“Well, a number of things.” Among them, his unusual quiet, the fact that he wasn’t eating or drinking, the furrows in his brow. But there was one clue far more notable than that. “Namely, there’s four ducks not ten feet away, splashing in the puddles, and you haven’t mentioned them at all.”

A different sort of furrow carved through Crowley’s brow. “Do I normally?”

“Always. If there’s ducks, you always say so.” Aziraphale gave a worried pout. “You haven’t even been watching these ones. It’s not like you.”

“I was busy.”

“Watching bread instead of watching birds?”

Crowley opened his mouth again, as if to protest that such a thing was perfectly normal. Then he closed it, looking entirely out of sorts. Perhaps at the realization that his behavior was so easily readable.

He sighed and turned to the ducks. For a moment, he just watched them as they splashed in the puddle. They quacked happily, scooped up water in their bills, stretched their wings.

“Sorry,” Crowley said again. “I really didn’t mean to worry you.”

“That’s hardly my concern, dear boy.” Aziraphale tilted his head. “Do you not wish to talk about it? If it’s something too upsetting…”

“Nah, it’s not actually anything specific. I’m just tired, s’ all.”

“Have you considered taking a nap?”

That earned a quick smile, although Crowley didn’t take his gaze off the ducks. “I tried a week ago, yeah. While you were out in the countryside.”

“And how did that go?”

“Not well. Just endless dreams about everything going wrong.” Crowley’s nose wrinkled with distaste. “Getting lost on the way to assignments, blessings for you going wrong and turning into murder, losing my sunglasses…”

As if the thought had distressed him, he reached up and pushed his sunglasses higher. Or perhaps he just wished to better conceal his eyes.

“That sounds very stressful.” Aziraphale tore off a piece of bread and dipped it in sauce, one with vinegar and a delightful array of spices. “Do you think it’s the cold weather?”

“Nah, it’s not actually that cold yet.” Crowley glanced up at the clouds. It was an overcast day, slightly breeze, but only a bit chilly in truth. “I think it’s more… time goes by really fast. And lately, it just feels like it’s rushing from one bad thing to the next.”

“Ah.” Now Aziraphale understood. “Is this about that Templar business?”

“Not specifically. I mean, I got commendation for them being burned at the stake and everything, but that’s not all. This has just been a bad year, before and after that.” Crowley scuffed at the ground with his shoe, frowning. “Bad… decade. Century. Millennia. Existence.”

“Oh dear.” Alarmed, Aziraphale miracled a bowl of grain and pushed it to him. “Here. You need this.”

Crowley stared at it. “Does eating raw grain have some sort of antidepressant effect?”

“No, but ducks do.” Aziraphale put on an encouraging smile, although his chest was tight with worry. “Go on. You ought to feed them for a bit.”

Lips pursed, Crowley took the grain. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s gonna miraculously cure my case of ‘humans are really bloody awful to each other.’”

“No, I don’t suppose it shall. But perhaps it will remind you of happier times?”

“Like what?” Crowley asked glumly, hurling a handful of grain at the ground. The ducks rushed over, quacking with glee over the snack.

“Oh. You know. All the birdwatching we’ve done over the years.”

Crowley glanced at him. “Humans have been killing each other for those years, too.”

“I’m aware of that. But ducks are nice! You like ducks. And you like watching them.” Aziraphale was starting to run out of ideas, which was really quite pitiful. After five thousand years of knowing Crowley, he ought to be able to do more. “And, I hope, you like watching and feeding ducks with me?”

At that, Crowley’s expression softened. He nodded, tossing down more grain. “I do. Sorry I’m such awful company today, angel. I guess I just got kinda beaten down by it all.”

“I quite understand.” Aziraphale held out a hand, smiling, and Crowley took it. “Oh.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Well, it-it’s just…” Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed, and he shook his head at himself. “I was actually requesting some of the grain to feed the ducks.”

“Oh.” Crowley chuckled, shaking his head. “‘Course you were.”

He tried to let go. Aziraphale held on tighter. “This is nice, though. Do you think it would help you at all, if we did it a while longer?”

Crowley hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “Yeah. I think it might.”

“Well, then.” Aziraphale moved his chair closer, to make it more comfortable to hold Crowley’s hand, and settled in. “We shall watch the ducks together, then.”

Aziraphale couldn’t do anything about humans being awful, or about the effects of time’s relentless onslaught. But he could certainly offer his company and his hand. And hopefully, between that and the cheerful company of ducks, Crowley would bounce back soon.

[giggly-squiggily]

Lee Nurugai and Ler Shion Pleaseee (Hell's Paradise)

AHHH YES! I haven't written for Ler!Shion yet, so this was a delight! I've gotcha covered, y'all! (Also I'm really sorry, but I'm gonna have to turn down the Tokoyami All Might request- it's nothing bad; I just don't really know how to write those two interacting if that makes sense- sorry!)

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps): @thatbigbisexual29 @cupcake-spice13 @rachi-roo @imjusthere07

“My, what do we have here? Gabimaru and Nurugai? What a sight for sore eyes.”

Gabimaru dropped his head low with a groan, suddenly very tired. Nurugai blinked, confused by her master’s words and cheeky smile. “I don’t get it.”

“Don’t you, now? I suppose we don’t see eye to eye on these things.” He puffed, proud. Nurugai looked even more lost as the small shinobi beside her let out another low, exhausted noise. “Not a fan of jokes, Gabimaru?”

“Jokes are fine when they’re funny.” He leaned into his fist as he watched the blind swordsman take a seat, hands quick to assist his student in cleaning their weapons. “Did you sell your soul to the comedy gods?”

“Perhaps. One shall never know.”

“Sure you didn’t get the short end of the deal?” Gabimaru asked. He instantly regretted it when Shion paused, thoughtful.

“I suppose you could say it was a…short sighted decision.” He grinned.

Gabimaru fell backwards with a loud groan. Nurugai laughed, though he was unsure whether it was directed at him or the joke. “Walked right into that one, didn’t you?”

“Forget this island, I’m gonna die from terrible joke poisoning.” That earned him a snicker from the older man, Nurugai grinning in her arm as she put away another sword. “Can’t you go five minutes without telling one?”

“I could, but where’s the fun in that?” He put away the final sword, finishing their small pile. “In life, we need humor. Else we’d be far too devastated to go on.”

Gabimaru didn’t have an argument for that. Tossing an arm across his eyes, he blocked out the sights of the world around him, suddenly very tired. Did he use too much Tao again? He could practically hear Sagiri lecturing him now.

“Before we all came together here, Tenza-” The girl paused, something sad cracking her voice at the mention of the man’s name. “Our comrade- he acted just like you. He was so over Master’s puns; one time he challenged him to a duel.”

“Really now?” Gabimaru peeked from his arm, brows furrowing. “Did he win?”

The child shook her head, something warm in her expression. “Nope. Master was far too skilled. I like to think he might have won if he had help…”

A pause. The two looked at each other and then at Shion, currently lost in thought.

“Do you think…?” He began.

“It’s worth a shot.” Nurugai nodded.

“Hm?” Shion, who had come back too, looked up in their direction, tilting his head curiously. “What is?”

“Master…if Gabimaru and I fought you and won...” Nurugai stood, stretching.

“You stop with the puns. Or at least, reel it in.” Gabimaru crouched to his feet, preparing to fight. “What do you say?”

“...” Shion was a picture of calm, considering their offer. In the distance, the rest of their party seemed to fall quiet as well, noting the sudden change in the air.

“It seems…” He began, folding his hands in his lap. “You two failed to see the outcome of your decision.”

“Huh-” Nurugai began. It was the only warning either of them got before Shion pounced, moving far faster than either expected.

Gabimaru was the best of the best from his village. Any other day, he’d be able to move, grab Nurugai and avoid the ambush. 

Today though, he had overused his tao, leaving his body exhausted and sluggish. He was quickly pinned to the ground by the blind swordsman. 

“Even as exhausted as you are, you still fight. I admire you for it.” Shion didn’t seem phased at all by Gabimaru’s weak attacks, mentally comparing them to a feisty kitten. Nurugai knew better, opting to escape instead, but Shion’s quick hand grabbed her by the shirt, pulling her down beside the ex-Shinobi. “And where are you going, Nurugai?”

“Wait! Wait, master- hang on!” She cried, suddenly panicked. Gabimaru had no idea where this was going, but judging by the small smirk on Shion’s lips, he was sure he wasn’t gonna like it. “Forgive us, please!”

“No can do. Not only did you turn on your master, but you sided with a criminal as well. That is truly unforgivable.” Shion’s playful tone softened the harshness of the words as he properly trapped them, shaking out his arms so his hands were free of his sleeves. “Any final words?”

Gabimaru didn’t have any. He simply raised his chin, gritting his teeth for what’s to come. He could handle it!

The second those fingers touched his ribs however, it was all over.

“Gah!” He gasped out, just barely fighting down the growing laughter in his throat. Beside him, Nurugai was a giggling mess in an instant, swatting at Shion’s hand as he clawed at her side. “No-nohohohoho! Nohohoohoh tihihihihickling!”

“Aehahahahahahaha! Mahahahhaster, pleahahahhahse!” Nurugai squealed, her voice shrill with mirth as she wriggled in place. “Wehehehe’re soohohohohoharry!”

“As I’ve said, your actions are far too unforgivable. You must face your punishment.” Shion tsked softly, as if he was wounded by his student’s “Betrayal”. His hand stuck to her side as his other pinched and kneaded up and down Gabimaru’s ribcage, earning a series of grunts and barks between fits of giggles. “As for you, Gabimaru- well, I won’t deny I’ve been a tad hurt. You find my jokes rather lacking.”

“Tehehehell behehehehehtteheheher johohohohohkes thehehehehn- GEHAHHAHA!” A howl ripped from his throat when Shion dropped his hand to his belly, pressing in with little warning. “COHOHOME OHOHOHON NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE!”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to sass me- I’ve witnessed all of Sagiri’s antics and know just where to tickle you.” Shion was smiling- a proper one at that. Gabimaru didn’t know if he wanted to knock it off his face or hide away from it. “My, you truly are quite sensitive, aren’t you?”

Oh, he wanted to punch him. He wanted to sucker punch him in the nose so bad-

Beside him, Nurugai had taken refuge in his collar, burying her face against his shirt with white knuckled fists gathering the fabric. Her laughs were still loud- almost enough to pierce his eardrum, but Gabimaru didn’t complain. If anything, it reminded him of his wife. Her laugh was like that too when he tickled her neck- going from soft to shrill in seconds. The image made him smile.

Then Shion found that terrible spot along his lower belly and all fond memories faded in an instant as the ticklish took over once more. “AH! Nohohohoho, not thehehere, you sohohohn of a-”

“Mahahhahahahster, pleahhahahahahhahse!” Nurugai cried, eyes starting to mist over as she weakly pushed at Shion’s hand kneading her hip, squeaking like a mouse caught by a cat. Gabimaru, not wanting to blow out either hers or Shion’s eardrums, had covered his mouth with his arm to block out the noise. It worked- somewhat. “Pleahahhahahse foohohoohohrgiihhiihihive uhuuhuhus!”

“Hm…” Shion considered, pausing briefly as the pair beneath him gasped for air. “Well…I suppose I could forgive you..”

They waited, breathless and giggly. Shion nodded his head slowly at both of them, drawing out the anticipation.

“.....Very well.” The weight pinning them down was released. Nurugai cheered weakly with a laugh, remaining where she was as Gabimaru covered his face with his arms. He didn’t need a mirror to know his face was bright red. He thanked whomever was watching over him that the rest of their vanguard party wasn’t there to witness it. “I suppose I can turn a blind eye for now.”

“Pfft-” Maybe the tickling broke his humor, or perhaps he felt a bit bad for hurting Shion’s feelings, but Gabimaru couldn’t fight off the snort that escaped. Before him, Shion seemed surprised.

“Don’t-” He began when Shion fluffed with pride, only to laugh again as he sat up, gently shoving the blind swordsman. “Whatever. You got me once. Just once.”

Nurugai giggled as she sat up, eyes dancing as she looked at Shion. “Round two!” She cried, leaping upon him before either man could react. Gabimaru took his chance to back away as student and master duked it out, the girl surprisingly coming out on top from the looks of things.

“Had fun?” A hand touched his shoulder, making him jump. Just like that, he could feel his Tao begin to return. “Master Shion can be rather devious with his tactics. Best not to get on his mischief side in times like this.”

“Speaking from experience?” Gabimaru raised a brow as Sagiri took a seat beside him, grinning when she pinched his shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about it, you find all his jokes funny.”

“Not all. I simply humor him.”

“Uh huh. You know what he told me? He said he’d turn a blind eye to us.”

Sagiri sputtered a laugh, barely fighting it back as Gabimaru hummed. “Humoring him my ass.”

“One more word out of you and I’m tickling you to tears.”

“Sorry mom.”

He managed to get away before she could grab him, giggling like a child as he bolted. It didn’t take long before Sagiri had him pinned and tickled once more.

Worth it.

Thanks for reading!

[the-bar-sinister]

All Limits of Disguise (20004 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 4/4

There was a breathless period after the battle and the escape from Big Mom's pirates. With Reiju, Rebecca had managed to reach Nami on the Thousand Sunny. The Straw Hats had escaped Big Mom's Pursuit ships and–it turned out, lead her on a horrifying chase while Sanji attempted to create a wedding cake to sate her violent frenzy. All the Straw Hats had survived and they were relieved to hear she was safe too. Even if she heard Sanji’s audible anger that she was ‘trapped alone with those lunatics’ in the background. It made Reiju laugh, and knowing the Straw Hat Pirates had escaped Whole Cake intact eased Rebecca’s worried mind.

By the time she hung up, she almost felt comfortable…which was when Reiju lifted her up with little effort and carried her to the infirmary.

Rebecca found herself sitting upon an examination table with Reiju leaning nearby , grinning amusedly as she explained the need for a check up after such a chaotic battle…and without a medical staff alive at the moment, the task would fall to the Vinsmokes. 

"Did you settle the matter with the pirates?" Ichiji's voice from the doorway caught Rebecca's attention as Reiju looked her over.

Rebecca was flushed as Reiju’s fingers trailed up her back, checking over the bruises and mild cuts from the fray. She only got more flustered when she looked up ato see Ichiji. 

“I did.” she said with a small smile. “They’re currently on the run from Big Mom, but are as safe as they can manage. They’re worried about me, but I assured them I was in good hands.” 

"Good," Ichiji nodded. A very slight smile tugged at the bare edge of his lips. Most people wouldn't have noticed it. Or the way that he emphasized his next words. "I'm pleased to hear it. And did you sustain any damage in the fight?"

It was nice to see. She hadn't known the Vinsmokes for long, but seeing them at least attempting to emote without as much restraint was a genuine delight.

She smiled wider and shook her head. “Not really, I’m tougher than I look.!”

Reiju looked up. “Minor bruises and lacerations. The worst is a glancing gunshot wound on her side, but it’s hardly deep.”

She hadn’t even noticed it with the adrenaline…with her focus on making sure the Straw Hats were okay. But when Reiju spoke, she realized she could feel a sharp ache in her right side, just under her chest. “Ow.” 

"How much does she weigh?" Ichiji asked, abruptly stepping into the room, and opening a medical cabinet. "I'll prepare an anesthetic and a nutritive accelerant."

Reiju began rattling off her information…her weight, the various minor wounds around her body, her height. As they spoke she reached up to feel the tender skin on her side just under the wound.

She’d never had to go to the infirmary at the arena–she’d always won with barely a scratch. But she’d heard what really happened in there to those who were considered ‘failed gladiators’. This was wholly a new experience for her. 

Ichiji handed Reiju a tube with some kind of salve in it as he prepared a mixture in a series of beakers and decanted it into a syringe. 

"This may make you feel lightheaded for a while," Ichiji warned her.

Reiju began to rub the salve onto the wound with a quiet hum, “but it’ll heal you up good as new in time.” She winked “so don’t worry about a thing.”

Rebecca nodded slowly. “A little lightheadedness isn’t going to trouble me, Ichiji. Ah..” she winced slightly at the pressure of the salve’s application, before she took a deep breath. “I’m ready. If I feel faint I’ll just ask for help.” 

"Good." That small smile was back again and he pressed the injection into her arm. There was a pinching feeling– almost nothing in comparison really– and a feeling of warmth bloomed through her.

She shivered at the sudden warmth, but closed her eyes as it flowed through her veins, sighing softly and looking up at him. “How long does it usually take to kick in?” 

"About thirty seconds. The time it takes your heart to pump it through your body."

Even as he spoke, she found it overtook her. A rush of lightheadedness- almost euphoria, and all the aches and pains disappearing.

It reminded her a little of the night she’d spent drinking with them, that dizzy, bright feeling that swam in her head as she shifted forward with a huff of breath. “Oh wow…that really does work fast.”

Reiju chuckled. “One of the many wonders of science– though a minor one in the grand scheme of things.”

Her fingers rested against her side again, before she began applying a bandage over the wounded area,wrapping it around her trunk. 

"A very minor one, considering. But I'm sure impressive in the face of your previously barbaric circumstances," Ichiji nodded.

“Barbaric?” Rebecca looked up at him with a laugh. “I mean…Dressrosa’s not that backward “

She shifted to sit up, only for Reiju’s hand to keep her down while she continued wrapping the bandages around her.

“No, no , of course not.” Reiju soothed with a purr to her tone. “But the coliseum perhaps. I can’t imagine they were using the latest and greatest in medical technology amongst the prisoners.”

Rebecca chewed her lip. “well, no…mostly they dumped the seriously wounded into the underground garbage chutes and turned them into toys…” 

"Expedient," Ichiji shrugged. "But not particularly advanced in terms of medicine."

There was that slight tug at the edge of his lips. He sounded deadly serious– but maybe it was meant as a joke.

Rebecca laughed anyway…if it was a joke or not, it dredged a giggle out of her and she had to marvel at the fact the sharp movement in her chest didn’t hurt in the least.

Reiju placed her hand atop her head. “All finished,” she purred.

“Thank you, Reiju!” Rebecca bowed her head, before she shifted to try and stand “It’s not the most advanced, no. But Doflamingo seemed more interested in Caesar Clown’s research than, you know…sustainable health care. So…”

She shrugged with a lopsided smile. “maybe it was barbaric!” 

"Admittedly, Caesar's research is worth paying attention to," Ichiji said. "Some of it contributed to us."

Reiju nodded as she twisted her hair around her finger. “His research into bioweapons actually contributed to my body’s unique makeup and tolerances…”

Rebecca blinked, her eyes going wide. “...wait, really? That guy the Straw Hats were dragging around was…he really helped make you? Doflamingo’s business partner??”

"Among other scientists, yes," Ichiji nodded. "Though he was one of the primary ones. He was often present when we were younger children."

“I remember him well…” Reiju settled herself beside Rebecca with a chuckle. “He was always a unique man.”

“You can say that again.” Rebecca murmured as she swayed back and forth “was he a friend of your father’s? Or…a rival?” 

"He was a co-worker," Ichiji said. "Of their personal relationship– I could speculate."

“Eugh…” Rebecca held her hand up “I’d really rather not speculate on your father’s personal life. I didn’t like him enough to care.”

She started giggling again, pressing her hand to her head as it swam. “Eugh…you weren't wrong about the lightheadedness”. 

Ichiji huffed a breath, and looked at his sister. "Should she rest?"

Reiju smiled thinly at him, caught in the corner of Rebecca’s vision. “Perhaps. Someone should keep an eye on her condition, of course.”

“It’s just a scratch!” Rebecca protested with a huff. “I’ve seen men with far worse sleep it off back home.” 

"I meant the anesthetic," Ichiji corrected. "As you mentioned being affected by the lightheadedness."

Reiju leaned on her hand. “Well. There goes my plan. Foiled.”

Rebecca rubbed her neck “I think I’ll be alright. It’s just kind of present.” She offered her hand to them “but I think I can walk it off. I managed to hold my own drinking last night, after all!”

Last night…it really had only been a night ago, hadn’t it?

"You're not used to drinking?" Ichiji cocked an eyebrow curiously.

“Not really, no.” Rebecca shook her head with a wistful smile. “I was quite young when I was first imprisoned…after I refused to join Doflamingo’s gang.”

She closed her eyes, thinking back to the cold cells and the raucous sound of her fellow gladiatorial prisoners…slaves of the arena. “The free gladiators…those who came to fight for glory and their own volition…would be treated to a round of drinks during their victory celebration. The slaves would be given tokens to exchange for food or amenities…and I preferred a fuller stomach over intoxication and hunger.” 

"An intelligent decision," Ichiji said. He paused, his arms crossed, seeming thoughtful. "I suppose I hadn't considered the full ramifications of your experience. Was drinking with us… unpleasant?"

He seemed to test the word on his tongue as he said it,,

Rebecca felt the full weight of his stare and Reiju’s both as she blinked. “What? No! I loved it. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to enjoy that kind of luxury before, Ichiji! It was a fun feeling getting to actually indulge for once…and despite the ah…the dizziness…you were all great company!” 

Ichiji's posture relaxed, and he nodded. "I'll keep that in mind going forward. You were very good company yourself. Just as we thought you would be. Maybe we can manage a few more luxuries for you."

“Just as we’d hoped.” Reiju echoed her brother with a wide smile. “Maybe we can…now that we’re free of Father’s yoke…we can certainly turn some of the resources inward. Can’t we, brother?” 

"He won't be needing them. We should put them to good use."

“Like showing our lovely guest a bit of luxury.” Reiku purred.

Rebecca felt her face flush hot again “I couldn’t possibly impose! But…but if you really wished to, I wouldn’t dare stop you!” 

He smirked, and it was a dramatic gesture on his face. "Yesterday you asked me about things I wanted to do. Yes. I want to do it."

Rebecca laughed, and covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her blush and her flustered giggling.

“You know what…in that case…p-pamper me as much as you’d like, Ichiji!” 

"It will be my pleasure, then."

Reiju put her fingers to her lips, “what shall we try first, Ichiji?” she mused “it seems you’ve already gotten her drunk on the finest wine.”

In the end they had agreed to lavish her in attention. They promised to pamper her, and pamper her they did. Reiju, Ichiji, Niji and Yonji swept Rebecca around the handsomely appointed ship to help her to everything they’d taken from their father.

A lavish meal prepared by their maidstaff turned to a bath in the floating kingdom’s large and handsome executive bath with all four of the Vinsmoke siblings competing to bathe her to her flush-faced embarrassment. The bath turned to her attempts to teach them dance…and that turned into yet more of the ‘finest wine’.

It was the most comfort Rebecca had ever found herself in, enough that she could almost forget the fact that she’d been separated from the Straw Hat crew. As she lounged by the Vinsmokes on the plush couch of the master bedroom, still dizzy from her medication and the alcohol in her system, she quietly hopped that maybe..just maybe— the trip to link her back with them might take a little while longer. 

[helluvahusker]

First chapter of the next installment of Sex Shop AU and Everyone is Poly bc I Said So is up! Click here or read below the cut

Blitzø: Hey u fre 2nite?

Stolas: Always free for you, darling.

Blitzø’s face burned. It was unfair how much he liked it when Stolas called him that. Not that it was special. Demons with posh accents tended to unironically call everyone “darling” and “dear” about as much as Blitzø condescendingly called everyone “bitch” and “sweetheart.” And he liked how enthusiastic Stolas always was about seeing him, even though it was mildly concerning that the bird was rarely busy in the evenings. Fuck, Blitzø really hoped that Stolas liked him for more than just being the only person to give him attention. 

Blitzø: Cn I cum ovar?

Stolas: Absolutely! What time should I expect you?

What time should he expect him? Well the store closed at 6 and Fizz was getting picked up by Oz at 7, Blitzø still had to shower, and Stolas lived on the nice side of town so Blitzø should probably give himself some extra time to get there…

Blitzø: Lke 7:30? Prbly gona help Fizz frist hes got a date

Stolas: Oooh, how exciting! I’ll see you at 7:30 then :)

Blitzø thumb up reacted the last message and closed his phone case, stowing it away in his pocket like it was supposed to be during work hours. He let out a long sigh. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough, even though he was dreading it. Like Fizz had said, one way or another, after tonight things would be different. Blitzø fucking hated change, but he’d long accepted that in most cases the only way out was through, and for some reason he would just never stop going through it. 

----------

As expected, Fizz invited Blitzø home with him after work to get ready for his date with Ozzie. It gave him a nice springboard to bounce his anxiety and outfit ideas off of. Freshly showered and digging desperately through his closet while clad only in a pair of briefs, he emerged victoriously with the two articles he’d been considering.

“Definitely the pink and green jester cap,” Blitzø said, scrutinizing the options Fizz was holding out for him. “It really brings out your eyes. And it’ll match the ropes Ozzie bought to use on you, ya know, if you guys take it that far tonight.” 

Fizz’s eyes went wide and dreamy at the thought. Then he shook his head, to clear it. “Hey, you don’t know he bought those for me. He was probably just expanding his collection.”

Blitzø shrugged. “Two things can be true. But I’m soooo sure him buying ropes you’d look fire in and the ballgag you said was your favorite at the same time he tried asking you out was a coincidence.” 

“Whatever,” Fizzie huffed. He tossed a set of shirts and pants onto the bed next to Blitzø. “Which of these?” 

Privately, Blitzø thought this was stupid. He was not the person to be asking about what colors went with what, especially if there was print or pattern involved. He kept his own wardrobe simple, mostly black red and white, with the occasional dress thrown in for when he felt like it. Those could be any color, since they didn’t really need to be matched to any other pieces.  Still, he helped Fizz as best he could, even though he thought his fellow imp looked gorgeous in everything, and especially in nothing. He was sure Ozzie would agree.  

Blitzø leaned back against the headboard of Fizz’s bed, which was big enough for an imp plus any other demon (or two) that he might care to invite into it. “Wanna have a quickie before you go?” 

Fizz shot him a very unimpressed look. “And show up to my date with your jizz leaking out of me?” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Blitzø said, a lazy satisfied grin flashing across his face as he briefly relived several satisfying memories. 

“As delightful as that sounds,” Fizz drawled, “Those were very different times. Besides, I think we’re both saving up our energy for other people tonight, aren’t we?” He gave Blitzø a pointed look. “You text Stolas yet?”

Blitzø scowled. “Yes mom, I’ve got it all figured out. I’m going over to his place. That way he’ll be comfortable and I can leave if I have to.” 

Fizz raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t want to meet at a neutral location for this?” 

“If I did that he’d immediately know something was up and then he’d probably doom spiral. I’m trying not to scare him off, remember?” 

Fizz grinned crookedly. “I was more worried about him thinking it’s just a regular booty call, but it sounds like you put some thought into this. Pretty sweet of you to know what kind of things make him freak out.” 

“It’s not like we just jump straight into fucking!” Blitzø said defensively. “We always talk first. Usually. And after. I’ll just… bring it up before we start going at it and it’ll be fine. Tell me it’s going to be fine.” 

“Blitz.” Fizz finished pulling up his pants and leapt into the bed, still shirtless, so he could pull his partner into a hug. “It’s gonna be fine. Just make sure you’re clear about what you want, and try not to assume the worst like you always do.” 

Blitzø groaned, burying his face in Fizz’s neck. “Feelings fucking suck.” 

“Yeah yeah.” Fizzarolli patted his back soothingly. “I know big guy, you’re a strong scary imp but give you some emotions and you crumble like a house built in the greed ring.”

“Fuck you,” Blitzø said halfheartedly, biting at Fizz’s bare shoulder in a weak attempt at retaliation. 

Fizz chuckled, shoving him away. “Hey, I don’t need any marks from you tonight, Ozzie’s gonna get the wrong idea.”

Blitzø widened his eyes and made his mouth a comical O. “Oh shit, you mean we’re not fucking?” 

“Idiot.” Fizz rolled his eyes good naturedly and slid off the bed so he could finally put his shirt on. Blitzø liked watching him do up his buttons nearly as much as he liked watching them be undone. Nearly. “He might think you’re a possessive bastard who’s trying to send a message. Or that we’re playing a game.”

“Wellll I don’t hate that idea,” Blitzø mused, “Like we could do that as a bit or a scene sometime. Not to be a cuck but marking you up and sending you off to someone else to get fucked could be kinda hot.” 

Fizz laughed. “Sounds like something a cuck would say.”

Blitzø stuck his tongue out at him. 

“But I want this date to be about me and Ozzie, you know?” Fizz adjusted his collar, glancing at Blitzø in the mirror. “I don’t want him to get it in his head that he’s just a part of our kink. He can be a part of it later, if he wants but I really fucking like him, and I want him to know that. Okay, Blitz?”

“You got it, Fizzie-pop.” Blitzø gave him a two-fingered salute. “You woo that fucking demon, woo him good.” 

Fizz straightened his back like he was standing at attention. His smile was devious. “Oh I fucking plan to.” 

[cloudymistedskies]

“Self-blame and regrets”

Marimui fic (For the Marimui week)

Mari takes all the necessary items, and adjusted her clothes. She was gonna go inform her family that her older sister, Riko has passed away, along with handing them their shared inheritance. She knew that the kakushis could’ve done it themselves, but she felt like it would bring more closure if she were to do it herself. As she was about to take a step, a familiar voice calls out to her.

“Mari!” And the next thing she knew, Muichiro was right by her side with a slightly worried expression. The brunette turns to him, curious about what he wants.

“Mui? Is there something you need?” She softly asked, holding the inheritance in her hands. She already prepared food and everything as she’ll be gone for at least until dawn.

“I wanted to come along with you…” He responded, resting his hand on the girl’s shoulder. Looking into her green eyes, what once was a joy-filled and bright was now more gloomy and overall… empty in a way. Riko’s death really took an impact on her.

“It’s fine, really… I’m gonna be walking on foot, so it might be tiring for you…” Mari reassured, smiling a little at the ravenette, which Muichiro could immediately tell it was forced.

“Plus… If you do feel lonely, you could always visit Tanjiro and the others.” She added, slightly tilting her head. Muichiro shook his head, however.

“No, no… I insist. Knowing your habits, I wouldn’t want you to get lost while visiting them.” The boy would then take some of the inheritance from Mari so she would be carrying less.

“And I’m a hashira! …Or was a hashira. Considering that the corps is now disbanded. If anything, I should be worried about you getting tired.” He continued, chuckling and grinning at his beloved. Muichiro made a good point… And it doesn’t hurt to let him accompany her. Mari lets out a small sigh, his mint-green eyes sparked in excitement.

“Alriiight… I’ll let you come along.” The short-haired girl quickly gave in to his wishes, much to his delight. He interlocks his arm around Mari’s and the two headed out to Mari’s relatives.

They first went to the Minami’s. After arriving at their doorstep, Mari was hesitant on knocking. She knew the news would upset them. As her mind was spiraling, it was suddenly interrupted when Muichiro gently caressed her back, causing Mari to look at the boy. His expression was reassuring and telling her that she’ll be okay. That was enough to soothe the brunette and so she knocked on the door. Moments later, Mari’s aunt opened and her eyes widened as she sees the young short-haired girl before her.

“Mari…” The older woman muttered, before quickly hugging her, tightly. Muichiro stood behind them, watching the older woman engulfing Mari into a warm embrace. It was a heartwarming scene to him. He could hear the woman mumbling about how relieved she is that Mari is alright and well... Atleast physically…

The woman would soon stop embracing and placed her hands on the young brunette’s shoulders. As she was about to say something, she noticed something peculiarly off.

"Where's your sister, Mari?" Mrs. Minami asked, her expression changed to a more anxious one, as if she likely knew what the answer was. Her suspicions were confirmed when Mari's expression darkened, now looking down. Tears were threatening to fall down from her green eyes. Knowing that even saying the words was too much for her, Muichiro decided to take the role of informing her aunt.

"She unfortunately passed. I heard that she did so to protect Mari." The boy informed the devastating news. Despite already expecting that type of outcome, Mrs. Minami was still devastated to hear that one of her nieces died.

"I'm really...really sorry to hear that..." The older woman pulled Mari into another embrace, this time caressing her back to soothe the younger girl. Mari wasn't making any peep, but tears streamed down to her face, making both Muichiro and Mrs. Minami feel more empathy towards the brunette.

The three had a moment of silence, before Mari broke it by speaking up.

"I'm... Also here to deliver her shared inheritance..." She mumbled, taking the bag she was holding and handing it to her aunt. The older woman only silently responded by nodding and taking the bag from Mari.

"I see... I'm still really sorry for what happened, dear..."

"Mhm... We should head going now... I... Still have to tell our parents..." Mari would then turn her heel and began walking off before anybody could respond. Muichiro looked at Mrs. Minami, his expression became confused when he sees hers plastered with concern, and a hint of fear.

"Mrs...Minami?" The boy's voice startled her for a moment, quickly shooking her head and looking at the young boy. She seemed like she wanted to say something but was hesitant.

"..." A few seconds later, she would finally say something before heading back inside.

"...If anything happens, please try to stop her... This could be a very hard pill to swallow for my sister..."

Those words confused Muichiro. But he didn't have anytime to think about it as he had to catch up with Mari. She was already a little far ahead but he was able to catch up with her after a bit.

Soon after, they reached the small village where Mari grew up in. Muichiro has never been here before, despite the village being near the mountains. But Muichiro did live at the peak where one has to hike up there.

As the two were finding the Kaizumi residence, the long haired boy noticed the brunette becoming more dreadful than before. As if, she didn't wanna do this but she knew she had to. Muichiro didn't understand as to why she was like that. Perhaps it's cause she's concerned about her parents' reactions? He has never met her parents before, anyway...

Mari and Muichiro eventually found her home. This time, she stared at it with nothing but pure fear. The brunette tried to calm herself and hid her fear by showing a more neutral expression. She tried to knock on the door, but was completely hesitant this time. Mari couldn't bring herself to knock. She slowly turned to Muichiro with a sheepish look on her face.

"...Could you knock for me, Muichiro?" Mari softly asked, in hopes the long haired boy would do so for her. To which, he did and knocked on the door. After doing that, he would slowly and gently interlock his hand with hers, rubbing his thumb slowly on it in an attempt to soothe her. It worked just a little...

Soon after, an older woman answered the door. Her features were similar to Mari. Brown hair, green eyes. But the difference was that her skin was lighter and her eye structure was different to Mari's. The woman looked confused for a moment before realizing the young girl was her daughter.

"Marilyn. What are you doing here? And who is that?" The woman pointed to the long haired boy, arching an eyebrow.

"Ah. I'm Muichiro Tokito. I'm just here to accompany your daughter, Mrs. Kaizumi." Muichiro introduces himself, bowing in a form of respect. The woman did the same. For some reason, Muichiro didn't like the woman at first sight. He didn't know why, but something tells him she's... likely not the best type of person.

"Is there a reason why you're here, Marilyn? And where's Riko at?" Mari's mother inquired. The younger brunette became more nervous, but hid it from her. Her sorrow is still painted over her face.

"... Riko...Died..." Those were all the words Mari could muster up, before preparing for the worse. The woman stood idly, shocked at the news her young daughter just gave. She was kidding, right? Before she could even respond, Muichiro spoke up.

"...It's true. She died a few weeks ago to protect Mari, and Mari is here to deliver the inheritance your late daughter has given to you." The boy added, showing a face filled with empathy.

The mother was stunned. A tear streamed down from her eye. Then her expression changed from shocked to fury with a hint of sorrow. In a split second, she harshly grabbed her daughter’s shoulders, causing Mari to flinch.

“Riko… Riko died for you…?!” Mari’s mother couldn’t comprehend the statement. The young brunette only nodded in response, already expecting her mother to outburst and taking it out on her. Muichiro was standing before them, watching the scene unfold. He watched as the older woman takes out her grief and anger towards her only daughter who was still alive.

“Why… Why did you even SURVIVE when your sister didn’t?! Why was she so considerate for you over herself?!”

The boy was shocked about how her mother reacted, and he felt anger starting to boil up inside him. Sure, he knew she was hurt and miserable by the news and had every right to be. But to take it out on her only daughter who was grieving too. And the worst part is that Mari wasn’t doing anything but let her mother pour her misery all over her.

This went on for a while. The mom taking out her grief towards her daughter and the latter does nothing to stop.

He had enough.

Muichiro would step in and harshly grab the older woman’s arm, startling the two and averting their attention to the long haired boy. He had his eyes narrowed.

“I’ve had enough of you and your bullshit.” He hissed, his mint-green eyes glaring at Mari’s mother. Mari’s eyes widened, panicking a little.

“M-Muichiro…! I don’t think you should—“

“I should and I will.” The long haired boy cuts her off, standing his ground. He has noticed Mari never feeling comfortable talking about her own mother and he already knew that she wasn’t the best but didn’t wanna judge too much. But he didn’t expect him to be this bad.

“You’re not the only one who’s grieving over Riko’s death. Mari is also dealing with the loss horribly, especially since she blames herself for what happened to her. I understand your frustrations, but I will not stand with letting you take out your pent up sadness to your only child that’s still alive.” Muichiro continued, his tone of voice was laced with anger. He puts emphasis on the word ‘only’. Mari’s mother looks at the younger boy, feeling somewhat threatened by him. His sharp glares could stab anyone.

Mari quickly breaks them off before anything worse happened, her green eyes filled with anxiousness as she quickly handed her mom the inheritance her late sister left for her.

"...I'm sorry about Muichiro." Mari apologizes to her mother. As much as she wanted to express her anger to her mother too, she just doesn't want to cause a scene, especially where people could see. Not that she didn't do it to her before.

Muichiro wanted to protest, but looking at Mari's expression made him think twice. He still wanted to blow up on her mother, but knew he had to respect Mari's wishes. The young brunette sighed, then faced to Muichiro, and beckoned him to follow her as she started to walk off. The ravenette boy nodded at her.

"In a bit, Mari." He quickly said before facing back to her mother, his once calm smile was now replaced with a cold glare when he looked at the older woman.

"That will be all. Please never contact me nor Mari ever again." The mint-green boy told her before turning his heel and catching up with the short-haired girl.

line here

The two young people were walking back to the mansion, Mari's head faced down to the ground while Muichiro was guiding her to the path. She was still thinking about her mother's words and it was consuming her mind.

The ravenette looks at the girl who has a guilt-ridden look on her face. He was about to speak up, but Mari spoke first.

"..I'm sorry about my mom. I should've went there, myself..." She mumbled, biting her bottom lip right after. Mari wanted to cry right then and there, but didn't wanna cause more problems for him.

Muichiro shook his head, obviously against her words before speaking

"You have no reason to apologize, Mari. Your mother should be the one apologizing for what she did. To blame you for your sister's death and wishing you were the one who died again? She should at least be grateful that you're still here." The long haired boy balled up one of his fists, silently wishing he could've done more than just spat her mother out.

"... I wished I was the one who died instead." The words that left Mari's mouth made Muichiro pause and faced her with a concerned expression. It was expected, but it still didn't concern him less. The young girl would then continue.

"It was my fault that my... my sister is now dead. I-If I didn't have a panic attack while fighting off the demons in the fortress... If I was running right behind her instead of the opposite... If I just... took her place, m-my mother wouldn't be grieving since she would still be here! I shouldn't--"

Mari was immediately cut off when she was suddenly smacked by the head by Muichiro, nearly tripping off of her feet but he quickly catched her before she would hit the ground. The long-haired boy would help her off of her feet.

"...Ow..."

"I'm sorry for the sudden smack, but I just didn't want to listen to you blame yourself any further." He would gently massage her head right after, using his thumb to wipe off the tears off of Mari's face, which she didn't realize she was even tearing up until now.

"Mari... Your sister would've wanted you to live. I observed how much she cared for you. She'd do anything for you to be standing here and breathing instead of being buried." Muichiro said, his voice filled with emotion. Riko reminded him of his late older twin brother who sacrificed his own life for the sake of saving Muichiro and letting him live. His words seem to take an effect on Mari, seemingly calming down a little.

Muichiro gently cupped her face with both of his hands before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. He looks down at the brunette, smiling softly.

"She would've told you to live on for her..." He added, his voice now a whisper. Tears began to form on Mari's face and she enveloped the long haired boy into a hug, burying her face in his chest as she silently cried into his arms.

Muichiro's expression softened, his lips drooped down as he soothed Mari's back. Her tears were staining the collared shirt he's wearing, but he could care less.

He knew this wasn't gonna be easy for her. She could probably change as a different person while she grieved. But even if those possibilities could happen, he promises to himself that he'll be there for Mari no matter what. He'll try to help her in any way he could. He'll make sure that the same smile Mari always had will appear once again, even if it'll take years.

"Let's get back home now, Mari..."

Taisho era secret:

Mari’s mother actually ended up writing a letter to Mari a few months later, but Mari never responded back. She couldn’t find herself to forgive her for everything she said and done

Link to the Marimui week post!

[peony-pearl]

“Katsu, do you wanna see a trick?”

Zuko sat next to his baby brother at the turtleduck pond. Katsu himself rested in Niwa’s lap as he watched Zuko intently.

Ozai stood slightly away from them, looking around at the gardens they were in. This had once been his home. He had been born in this palace. He knew these gardens by heart and yet no matter how much they looked the same, they were also different. He took in the scents of the flowers and plant life, the fine perfumes and food, the humidity and wafting sweetness of his birthplace.

“Look, Katsu!” Niwa’s voice caught his attention as Zuko, after gently swirling his finger in the water, had been able to summon the flock of turtleducks, and they swam over to get a feast of seeds and bread.

“My mom taught me that,” Zuko smiled, handing a piece of bread to Katsu as the ducks quacked and the babies cheeped.

Ozai watched Zuko and Niwa guide Katsu on keeping his chubby little hand still so the ducks could nibble at the bread. He squealed in delight, laughing happily. Ozai smiled, and he looked to Zuko, who was excited for Katsu’s glee.

Zuko was no longer the emotional, jealous boy Ozai had crafted. No, he’d grown so much more than Ozai ever had in his time in the palace.

“’ook daddee!” Katsu’s voice pulled Ozai from his thoughts. “’ook dey like me!”

Ozai finally joined the group, crouching next to his partner and son. “Did you make some new friends?”

“Yeah!” Katsu said, reaching out for a turtleduck.

“Gently now,” Niwa said, quickly taking her son’s hand, guiding him on how to pet the bird. “Just like the animals back home.”

“That’s right,” Ozai said. “Or they’ll come get you like this-” and Ozai folded his hand like a duck beak, pretending to nip at the boy as he mimicked a perfect duck quack. Katsu wriggled and squealed, trying to hide within his mother’s embrace.

Niwa laughed as Zuko stared at Ozai, dumbfounded. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Ozai chuckled as Katsu climbed into his lap. “I spent a lot of time out here as a kid. When your older brother is out at war and your father isn’t interested in your time, you find things to occupy you.”

Zuko held tight to the piece of bread in his hand.

“May I?”

Zuko jumped as Niwa asked for a piece of bread, and he obliged. 

“So...” Zuko started as Niwa fed one of the older ducks. “Another baby?”

Niwa smiled, patting her stomach. “It was my idea,” she said, looking at Katsu as he looked up at Ozai in adoration, and Ozai returned the expression. Niwa then turned back to Zuko. “Do you want kids, Zuko?”

Stammering, Zuko tried to find his thoughts. “... Yeah, I... I kinda do. I mean, I am the Fire Lord. I’ll need an heir one day. But I haven’t found my other half yet,” he said, leaving some crumbs in front of him for the ducklings to wander to and nibble on.

Niwa touched his arm. “Don’t rush it. They’ll find you.”

Zuko smiled, and he shrugged. “I mean, at this rate I’m bound to be an uncle before a dad. That is, if Azula will accept Aang’s proposal.”

“They’re not engaged yet? I thought that happened ages ago,” Niwa said. Zuko shook his head.

“No. She’s not quite ready yet.”

Niwa hummed. “I’ve seen how close they are; but I can imagine how much pressure it must be to be in a relationship with the Avatar. That’s a lot on her shoulders, all things considered.”

Ozai listened; he tried to not let it affect him as Katsu babbled to him.

“Yeah,” Zuko said, letting another turtleduck nibble some bread from his hand. “She won’t really give a specific reason and I think that bothers Aang.”

“Well, she doesn’t need any other reason other than she’s not ready.”

Zuko looked to Niwa. “I think... it also has to do with the fact that Aang really wants kids. Like... Soon.”

“Oh...” Niwa said.

“Yeah... He thought for the longest time he was the last Airbender. I think Chiyo being one has taken a lot of the pressure off, but he still wants kids. Both in hopes of passing on some Airbender blood and to recapture a bit of family he’s lost. Azula loves him, he helped her a lot through her recovery. But it’s like there’s this ticking clock... for both of them.”

There was a moment that was silent, save for Katsu shuffling about and sweet talking the turtleducks, and their cheeps and quacks as as they swam about the sparkling pond.

Ozai finally spoke.

“Has... Has Azula mentioned if she wants kids?”

Zuko shook his head. “She’s never specified. But I can tell. I can tell in the way she goes quiet when Aang starts talking about it. She goes distant, and she-”

“Zuko.”

Jumping, Zuko turned to find Ursa. She looked at him, stern, but he could see her trembling.

“Don’t talk about your sister like that.”

Ozai was quick to stand, seeing Ursa again, but she held her hand out quickly towards him. Her eyes had more fire than Ozai ever held in that moment.

“Mom, I’m not lying,” Zuko said. “You’ve seen it too.”

“That’s not a conversation to be had here,” Ursa shushed. “Not with strangers.”

Niwa slowly stood, Zuko was quick to help her up as Ozai remained still. “Lady Ursa,” she said, bowing. “We mean no intrusion. Zuko and I were on the subject of children and-”

“Do not interrogate my son,” Ursa warned Niwa.

Katsu, nearby, had noticed the energy of the situation and he became still, his eyes big and frightened as the turtleducks gathered around him.

“Mom, there was no interrogating. I trust Niwa.”

Niwa touched Zuko’s shoulder. “Zuko seemed concerned; I wouldn’t want anything for Zuko and Azula that I wouldn’t want for my own chil-”

Ursa pointed at Niwa, and Niwa removed her hand from Zuko’s arm. Ursa looked to Zuko.

“Would Azula trust her with the information you’re giving her?” Ursa asked.

Ozai stepped forward. “Perhaps Zuko is looking for advice for Azula-”

Ursa turned on her heel.

“What do you know about advice?! How dare you insinuate I don’t know what’s best for my child!”

“Our child, Urs-”

A hand made contact with Ozai’s cheek. Katsu began to cry.

“MOM STOP!” Zuko pleaded with his mother as she screamed at Ozai.

“AZULA IS MY DAUGHTER! YOU HAVE NO SAY IN HER LIFE! YOU GAVE THAT UP THE MOMENT YOU DENIED HER THE CHANCE TO BE YOUR DAUGHTER; YOU MADE A PAWN OUT OF HER! YOU DESTROYED HER!”

Zuko stepped between his parents as Niwa rushed to Katsu. He was fraught; he wanted to allow his mother the chance to air her grievances... but not like this. And he wanted his father to have the right to speak his new mind, but Ozai’s damage was still rippling through the Fire Nation.

“MOM STOP! YOU PROMISED ME!”

Ursa stopped, looking at him. Tears ran down her face as Zuko gently took her shoulders.

“Mom, you told me you would-”

“I know what I said, Zuko,” Ursa choked. “But what I said and what I’m feeling-”

“I know,” Zuko said softly. “But look behind dad.”

Ursa glared at Zuko, knowing what he wanted her to look at. She saw Niwa comforting Katsu. The toddler trembled, whimpering as he clung to his mother.

“This isn’t the time,” Zuko said. “Please. This isn’t what I wanted.”

Ursa shook, having watched the group from afar as they enjoyed themselves at the pond; how Zuko smiled to his baby brother, created from the monster who destroyed his and Ursa’s marriage, as well as the minds of Zuko and Azula. She watched Niwa, a woman willing to damage her body to give Ozai more children than he deserved, all while she dared to impart lies to her son like she cared - in the place that Ursa held so dear as she and Zuko had spent so many hours here in his youth.

And Ozai.

Ursa looked to Ozai as his cheek was now a bright red, yet he remained still.

How his calm demeanor was causing her rage to reignite.

“What’s going on?!”

Ursa and Zuko jumped, turning to see Azula stalking forward as Aang, Kiyi and Chiyo rushed behind her.

[sailtomarina]

Did you cook this?

I had this same pasta dish for my birthday almost a year ago now and I still can't get over how amazing it was. SACCHETTI ME NOW.

---

He placed the plates down before taking the chair beside her, tugging at his collar and clearing his throat in clear agitation. As far as Hermione could tell, everything seemed perfect. The plating was immaculate and the wine superb—not that she expected any different. As she took her first bite under his intense scrutiny, she couldn’t stop her eyes from sliding shut as the flavors seared through her.

“Did you cook this?”

He nodded. “Do you like it?”

“Draco, this pasta might be the singular best thing to pass my lips that I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing.”

“I’ll try not to take that personally,” he said with a suggestive smirk.

“What is it called? I don’t think I’ve ever had pasta like this. Is it some kind of ravioli?”

“The dish is sacchetti al cinghiale, a boar and mushroom pasta. Do you see how the noodles look like little pouches?”

Hermione nodded as she inspected one on her fork, before devouring the parcel with a shudder of delight.

“They’re filled with mushrooms, right, if this meat on the outside is the boar? And this sauce—”

“Truffles and cream, but not so much to overwhelm the dish which is already rich as it is.”

Dipping a finger into the plate, she lifted a coated digit and sucked on it as she moaned. Sly eyes peered out from heavy lashes. Her cheeks hollowed out even though Draco knew not a drop of sauce remained.

“Hermione—”

Removing her finger with a light ‘pop’, she grinned at the want in his voice.

“Is something the matter?”

He shook his head with a rueful smile before tucking into his own meal. Normally, Hermione would have pounced on him right then for another tabletop session, but the sacchetti really was too good to ignore. She wasn’t lying when she praised it as one of the best things she’d ever eaten in recent memory, and the fact that Draco Malfoy made it for her? She’d be damned if she let such a masterpiece go without the proper adulations.

The wine flowed as generously as their discourse, and they cleared their plates in what might have been considered an embarrassingly swift time. True to his upbringing, not a single dish exceeded their capabilities to finish in a single sitting. She was pleasantly satisfied rather than uncomfortably full. All that was left was dessert.

Hermione fiddled in her chair as he vanished once more into the kitchen. Draco knew her passion for crime brûlée, and she had a good feeling that his would impress her just as much as the main dish.

She started when a small silver spoon materialized in front of her, the recently transfigured ‘G’ of her surname glinting on the handle. The moment Hermione’s fingertips brushed its surface, she felt a familiar tug at her navel before landing onto a flurry of pillows outside in the warm summer night.

“Glad you could make it.”

Her eyes fixated on the tall figure standing with a crystal bowl in each hand.

“Not that I’m complaining, but were all the theatrics to get me out here strictly necessary?”

He laughed as he joined her on the blanket, handing her a bowl as he answered. “No, but Theo begged me to try out his latest work and I figured you could help me with the feedback.”

“It was ridiculously smooth. I didn’t even have to hold the spoon, just touch it.” She waggled the aforementioned utensil in his face before dipping it into the dark orange sorbet (sigh, not crème brûlée). A burst of sweet and tangy citrus hit her tongue.

“Blood orange!”

Her exclamation was cut off by the warmth of his mouth contrasting with the coolness of her tongue. He chuckled as he nipped her lips a final time before pulling back.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself from getting a taste.”

She pouted at the separation, but also at his greed. “Don’t you have your own?”

“This one’s limoncello gelato.” Eating his own spoonful, he raised a brow at her in expectation.

Hermione carefully set aside her dish under stasis before straddling his lap. “I suggest you set yours aside as well.”

He obeyed quickly. He knew a pleased Hermione meant a very pleased Draco. She shoved him backwards to flop onto the pillows and descended on him with her questing tongue. She hummed in pleasure at what she tasted.

“I’ve never had limoncello before, but you can now consider me a fan.” She cut off his quiet laugh with another kiss and tugged at his hair. “I think, however, an apéritif is in order.”

This time, he was the one to break free and correct her.

“You have it backwards, Granger. The gelato is the apéritif leading up to you.” Arms engulfed her before rolling them both over so she now looked up at him. “Nothing I’ve served tonight has or will ever compare to you.”

It wasn’t until much later they realized Draco had not cast a stasis charm on his gelato, which had unfortunately melted into an unappealing yellow puddle. Suggestions of repurposing the liquid for further foreplay were met with firm denial, and he instead shared the remaining sorbet with a reluctant Hermione. If anyone considered him selfish, they had obviously never truly known the curly-haired witch.

She was generous, yes, in her attention and affection. But selfless? No. Hermione wanted what she deserved, and what she deserved was simply everything, Draco included. Who was he to deny her?

---

Wordcount: 918 Prompt: Did you cook this?

[ashterblaster]

Alrighty! Since my earlier post got a few notes, I'll go ahead and post the first half of my Radiostatic fic here! Warning, it's p short but I'm excited to see where it goes, as I've got the first half of part two pretty much fleshed out. Would love comments/reblogs to see how it was received! Hope y'all enjoy~

Summary: Vox finds out there are worse things than just being in Hell; like being sick in Hell. Alastor has a laugh at his expense every step of the way.

It had started as nothing but a minor annoyance. A dryness of the throat, which was typical for an early morning in Hell. Moisture wasn’t really a thing, even if you considered the fucking acid rain. Which Vox didn’t; that shit was genuinely the worst. But he’d at least had access to clean(ish) water, and cleared his throat a couple of times… the sensation still lingered. Well, it wasn’t anything for him to be overly concerned with. Besides, he had a meeting this morning with Alastor where they were going to discuss more hot-topic talking points for his radio show. 

The cloying, scratchy feeling in his throat still hadn’t gone away, even though it had been at least a couple hours since he first woke up. He made himself breakfast, something simple - eggs and toast, which… the fact that he was even able to scrounge up the materials to have a decent meal still startled him. It was Hell after all - everything was still jarring. 

He barely managed to choke down the slightly burnt edges of bread and too runny eggs (jeez, the food didn’t usually taste five star, but today was bad) before getting washed and dressed. The turtleneck he normally wore felt scratchier than normal, and he tugged at the collar in irritation. Even his antenna weren’t properly fitting into his hat… Gah - today had barely started and it was already a wash.

Well, he could at least look forward to seeing Alastor. Despite how every denizen in Hell he’d met so far had told him to steer clear of The Radio Demon, Vox hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to him yet. Not once. Even when he’d suggested the damn hat giving him so much trouble now - silly, ridiculous even he’d thought when he first put it on. But one look at Alastor’s approving grin had dashed his worries easily. He’d do just about anything to have that look directed towards him again… Oof, was the heater on the fritz again? It was suddenly so warm.

Sniffing idly, Vox descended the steps of his apartment and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Ugh, it was warm out here too. Well… that wasn’t so much surprising as it was an inconvenience. Hell always seemed to be too warm, but today the pentagram striped sun seemed to beat down on his head with a particularly harsh intensity.

He rolled his neck with a soft grunt, fingers gripping the taught muscle with a grimace. You’d think after however many years (1, 3, more?) of living with a fucking television set for a cranium he’d have gotten used to the aches and pains that came along with it. Vox once again had to remind himself that it was Hell - there were worse things than stiff joints.

“Quite the lovely day we have upon us, isn’t it?”

“JESUS SHIT–!” Vox staggered to the side, his screen glitching slightly from the shock of Alastor’s voice directly beside him. “Wh– You have got to stop doing that, Al! One day I’m gonna get a fucking heart attack.”

Alastor’s grin seemed to widen, eerily. “Oh, I would highly advise against that, old pal! We’re dreadfully short on paramedics here in Pentagram City.” His shoulders shook lightly, obviously amused at his own joke. Vox simple deadpanned, though he fought against his mouth instinct to inch upwards at the corners. Despite being fucking sadistic, Alastor could also be pretty funny - when he wasn’t unsettling or downright terrifying. 

“Anyhow~! You look a bit… disheveled this morning!” Vox tilted his head; he’d said it as if it were the most delightful observation he’d made in ages, “Sleep on the wrong side of the bed, hm?”

“No? I… Well, I looked fine in the mirror.” He argued, smoothing down his shirt a bit self-consciously. Alastor hummed thoughtfully, reached a hand out to gently tug on the tag sticking out of Vox’s inside-out jacket. “I suppose that’s the cons of not having eyes in the back of one’s head, haha!” 

Vox snorted as he began to shrug out of the denim. “Right, like you do?…” He trailed off, giving Alastor a once over. “You- you don’t, right?” 

“Oh, heavens no! But I do have my ways of seeing things others might easily miss.” His ears twitched slightly when Vox sniffed, and his head craned to one side unnaturally. Curious. 

Vox had barely gotten his jacket smoothed out, gaze flicking back to Alastor - only to find the other’s face mere inches from his own. He flinched, feeling heat creep up along his neck as he rose a brow, tentatively inching back. “Is… something else wrong?”

After far too long of a beat, the pinstriped demon snapped back into his place on the sidewalk, giving another curious hum. “Nothing at all, dear. Now! Enough dawdling - shall we get a move on? Rolling stones and such!” Without waiting for an answer, Alastor began walking down the pavement, and Vox blinked before following after him.

‘He’s being extra weird today. Wonder why?’ Although Vox had long since given up on making sense of Alastor’s every behavior. He’d go absolutely insane to even try. The guy… sinner… demon was nothing short of a fucking enigma, someone most insisted was to be feared and meant to stay FAR FUCKING AWAY from. Maybe Vox was foolish to still consider him good company, but it wasn’t as though he had other sinners breaking down his door to befriend him, let alone ones he actually found himself sharing common interests with. 

Plus… the guy was charming, when he wasn’t being wholly off-putting. And even then, Vox didn’t really mind that side of him. He was just quirky. 

As they walked and made conversation, Vox found his throat going from scratchy to genuinely sore and aching. He was clearing it more often, and trying not to be off-put by the odd, static distorted quality it would get every now and again. Alastor for his part seemed to be indifferent - thank goodness - but Vox felt a small mound of worry forming in his gut. Not for his throat, but something else was… well, no other way to describe it but itching in the back of his head. Like a clothes tag itching at the back of your neck, except it was directly behind his eyes, insistent and growing steadily as they walked.

Eventually, Vox’s steps slowed, and he began to blink rapidly. 

Alastor matched his pace until they were both standing still, the radio demon looking both curious and… oddly expectant. 

Vox gave his head a trembling shake, the feeling seeming to pulse before climbing higher.

“Hahh…?” The inhale swept through his lungs, causing them to seize up as his chest rose and fell unsteadily. His screen flickered as he continued to pant unevenly, a hand raising to mid-chest. Wait, this was all oddly familiar: the gasping, the build up, this itch… was he going to…? He hadn’t even noticed Alastor taking a precautionary step back before–

“heh’AAKKTTSCHHUE!!”

His head snapped forward, and Vox barely - just barely stopped the rest of his body from joining it in tumbling down. The raised hand held onto the top of his head in an attempt at steadying it, and he managed to right himself with a huge gasp. 

“Fucking shit–!!” He exclaimed, chest muscles heaving from the absolute workout straightening back up. He blinked again, before wincing and gripping the side of his head with a groan. “Fuck, fuck my head…” 

“Well, well!” Alastor tittered, clapping his hands together a few times, “Quite the performance, my good man! Quite the show!” Giddiness radiated from him, a stark contrast to the pained misery staining Vox’s features. 

“Nghh… did I just… sneeze?” It felt far more arduous than Vox recalled it ever being when he was alive. Then again, he’d never had to sneeze while trying to keep himself from falling on his ass. This really was Hell, wasn’t it?

“That’s the the term most would use, yes! Not quite used to it with your new hardware, eh?” Vox winced at the tap of Alastor’s staff against his head. 

“No, I’m not. Fuck, that was awful… snf!” He raised a finger to scrub against the middle of his face, and Alastor laughed gleefully when his companion realized he didn’t have a nose to actually rub. “… you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, most assuredly, my dear!” His smile didn’t falter once when Vox began to pout, “Now don’t give me that look, it’s all in good fun!” 

Despite his insistence, Vox rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what’s so ‘fun’ about feeling like absolute shit.” Maybe if it was some other sucker sure, but it wasn’t.

“So you are feeling unwell!” Alastor interrupted his thoughts, then clasped his hands together in delight, “Oh, I’d hoped that was the case!” 

“Wait, what?”

Now it was Alastor’s turn to roll his eyes. He stepped closer to Vox, lifting the bottom of his head with his staff. “Tell me, dear - does your throat ache? Do you feel a bit warmer than usual? Perhaps a little… fuzzy in the head?” 

Vox made a slight face. “How… did you know all of that?” He hated when Alastor would do this - toy with him instead of just getting right to the point. He was already feeling like garbage, what was the point of making him think when– wait…

“Ah, the cogs seeme to be turning now, yes?” Alastor’s grin was almost too eager. Vox shuffled back a bit, rubbing the side of his head as he tried to process the conclusion he’d come to. 

“Wait, I… I can get sick? In Hell? That’s a thing?!” 

“Oh, you just make this better and better, truly!” Alastor grinned gleefully, completely ignoring the panic radiating off of Vox. “But yes, you can fall ill in Hell, of all places. I assumed you knew that–”

“HOW would I have ever known that? it’s fucking news to me!”

“Well obviously,” The way Alastor rolled his eyes was enough to potentially give Vox an ulcer. Was he capable of having those, too? Why didn’t he put the pieces of still being biologically able to fall ill together sooner?! Or better yet - why hadn’t Alastor told him, since he seemed to be so fucking knowledgeable on the subject! However it seemed that his flaring irritation would have to take a momentary backseat - that awful sensation was back, almost worse than before, and a shudder rippled along Vox’s spine before it grew uncomfortably stiff. “Hahh… hhh…?” His screen flickered with static as his breathing continued to waver, a hand rising in more impulse than actual desire to cover his mouth. Even through his fluttering lids, he could feel Alastor watching him, eager and yet patient. As if this entire situation wasn’t confounding enough, embarrassing enough, the person he least wanted to be present now had a front row seat. Take a picture, it’ll last longer nestled just on the tip of his tongue, but another sharp inhale reminded him that talking likely wasn’t the smartest option. Not while his head still felt like it was full of fuzzy, restless static–

“ehh-hahH! EA’KTTSCHHHUE!” 

Though not as large as his initial sneeze, it still sent him staggering forward harshly. His screen was almost parallel with his hips in the process, and when he righted, it felt as if rising from being submerged in water for too long. His head, his neck, his core - everything ached, all from a sneeze. He didn’t bother masking a groan. 

“Fuck…” Although his discomfort might as well have meant jack-shit when countered with Alastor’s reaction. The bastard was laughing, as if seeing Vox nearly topple over from a sneeze was just about the funniest damned thing he’d seen in decades. Vox’s temple throbbed painfully as he glared at the Radio Demon, who was dabbing at the edges of his eyes with one corner of a handkerchief. 

“Oh goodness me - you certainly don’t do anything by halves, do you?” 

“You act like I did that on purpose.” Vox countered with a roll of his eyes, sniffling which… if he didn’t have a nose or sinuses, shouldn’t have been an action he could carry out. But there were multiple facets of Hell that technically didn’t make sense. Apparently this was just one among the hundreds of others. 

Alastor didn’t offer much in the way of a response. If anything, he was eerily silent, but his gaze penetrated Vox straight through to his damned soul. Vox felt warmth creep up along his neck. 

“If you’re waiting for it to happen again, you’re shit outta luck.”

Though he said it with confidence, he was internally dreading the moment another sneeze would grab hold of him. Alastor simply shrugged, but his gaze still held that air of anticipation. 

“Suit yourself. It’s certainly no skin off my nose.” His smile widened a fraction when Vox growled under his breath. 

Cyan-tipped fingers scrubbed along the surface of his screen, a bit harsher than was necessary. The irritation wasn’t as strong as before, but it lingered just out of his reach; strong enough to make it’s presence known, but not enough to trigger another sneeze. 

By the time he’d grown tired of uselessly assaulting his own face, Alastor was already a good couple of steps ahead of him. Apparently he’d grown tired of waiting for the ‘show’ to continue.

Shoulders sagging with another liquid-tinged sniffle, Vox reluctantly broke into a jog in order to catch up with him. 

Yeah. Today was definitely going to be… entertaining. 

[mel-0n-earth]

BG3 February Writing Challenge: Day 4

Day Four (SFW): Camp chores

Original prompt list

[This is a standalone, but features my nonbinary OC, Kai, who has a street urchin background. Do I have a soft spot for overly eloquent wizards? Definitely. Did I get a little emotional over this one? Maybe. Anyways, enjoy.]

“Kai? I must request your assistance with a task that is most important, I assure you.”

Kai looked up from the map they’d been studying, mind tired from the effort of deciphering the tiny scrawl and sounding out its letters in their mind. They’d been taught how to read, once, though they were hardly as well-read as someone like Gale. Whatever he needed help with, they hoped it wouldn’t involve any reading.

They stepped carefully around the mud puddles that had formed around camp after the recent rain, taking care not to let their shoes grow any soggier. “What is it?”

Gale turned from the riverbank and made a sweeping gesture towards a tub of soapy water arranged near a pile of clothes, most of which were stained with blood, dirt, and the vast array of ichors and viscera the party had encountered in their recent escapades.

“If you would oblige me, friend, it seems our dinner needs tending, lest we go hungry for waiting too long to begin the process. There are meats to marinate, herbs to cut, and a broth in want of bubbling. While I tend to such gastronomical tasks, would you be so kind as to take over the washing?” He cast a glance towards the main camp, then added in a lowered voice, “I’d ask the others, but I sense they would not be so well-suited to the task. I’m afraid dear Karlach would bring the water to a boil, leaving all our colors to run together. Can’t have that now, can we?”

Kai blinked, looking down to the pile of clothes, then back to Gale. “Um…yeah, sure.”

He flashed them a delighted grin. “Most excellent! That should leave me with plenty of time to focus on devising a meal most nourishing. I’ve even acquired a few pinches of saffron, of all things, to toss in with the fish. A mite luxurious for our current living standards, but well worth the cost, considering our recent accomplishments. But never mind that. Thank you for your help.”

He rewarded them with a charming bow of gratitude, then sauntered off towards the campfire, presumably to season it with saffron, whatever that was. Kai remained, staring down at the strange implements Gale had left for them—a slatted plank of sorts, a large stick, and a ball of twine.

Kai managed to get as far as dumping all the clothes into the tub, and using the ball of twine to create a clothesline like the ones they’d seen hanging over the streets of the Lower City. After that, however, they were stumped. They studied the plank and stick, puzzling over their possible purposes. At some point, they wondered whether the angled slats were there to squeeze water out of the clothes, but they found even a sock would not fit through such a small opening.

After a while, the delicious aroma of fish stew began to emanate from the campfire, and Kai heard the sound of wet footsteps slopping through the mud.

“By Oghma, what in the nine hells are you doing with that washboard?”

Kai looked up to find Gale staring baffled at the singular sock hanging limply from the slats. They turned their attention quickly away. Gods, they must look like a fool.

“I, umm…I thought maybe it would squeeze the water out, so they wouldn’t weigh down the line.”

Gale pulled back, as if offended by the very notion. “That’s perhaps the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard. I mean, it’s a washboard, for crying out—haven’t you ever done your own laundry before?”

Ashamed, Kai shook their head, motioning down to their current ensemble. “Not really. This is all I have.”

That was how it was, living on the streets. Clothes cost money, and they’d never had anywhere to store them. One outfit was plenty. If it got dirty, one jumped in the river, easy as that. Proper laundry, apparently, was much more complicated.

Several emotions passed over Gale’s face just then. First confusion, then understanding, then worst of all, pity. Kai nearly shrank at the sight. It wasn’t the first time they’d received such a look, though they’d grown considerably rarer since they reached adulthood. Apparently, children were more deserving of pity than adults. Still, it always left them feeling dirty, like some used wrapper to be tossed in the fire.

Gale scrubbed a hand over his face, breathed in deeply, then placed his hands on his hips with a heavy sigh. “That thing you’re holding is a washboard,” he explained. “You use it to agitate the clothes. It helps get the dirt off.”

Kai’s brows pulled together. “Agitate?”

Gale regarded them a moment longer, then allowed his face to warm to a smile. “You know what,” he said, rolling his sleeves to the elbow, “Why don’t I show you?”

[veliseraptor]

been a while since 150 words meme innit. and now that I have finished my exchange fic (woo!!!) and was just looking at some of my other wips and going "huh some of these are good actually, I should get back to them"...and I have some flight time/days off coming up...seems like a good time for a round of this

so! send me a number from the list below (with sample excerpts from the fics on offer this time) and I'll write 150 words in that project. you may send me up to three different numbers if you really can't choose.

mix of CQL/MDZS, Kinnporsche, and some wild cards under the read more

1. Xiao Xingchen was still bursting with questions, but he held them back for now, instead cupping Xue Yang’s face and kissing him. “You don’t have to take me anywhere nice,” he said. “I just want to be with you.” 

Xue Yang made a strangled, choking sound followed by a laugh. “Xingchen, oh my god,” he said. “You can’t just say that.” His face was, Xiao Xingchen was delighted to see, bright red. 

“Why not?” he asked. 

“Why not, he says,” Xue Yang said. “Why not. Because it’s so unbelievably goddamn sappy, Xingchen, I’m getting secondhand embarrassment.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Xiao Xingchen said, smiling, more than a little pleased with himself. “So you don’t need to be.” (Redux)

2. “Quiet, Felix,” Malkar said. His words cut through mine like a knife through a throat. I could almost taste the blood. I shut my mouth and looked down at my hands. “Look at me,” Malkar said, harder, and I quickly lifted my head again but I couldn’t quite look right at him. My breathing was getting quicker. Malkar hadn’t moved from where he was sitting but the way he was looking at me he didn’t have to, and I knew he could hurt me just fine from over there if he wanted. I swallowed, trying to figure out what he wanted from me. 

“You are an eager young thing, aren’t you,” Malkar said, sort of like he thought it was funny and sort of like he thought I was stupid. My stomach was all hot and squirmy and a little piece of me wanted him to just hit me and get it over with, but Malkar wasn’t like that. (Pygmalion)

3. Porsche called him midafternoon on Thursday when Vegas was reviewing some accounts and trying to figure out where he wanted to start carving out his niche. He was eyeing the wine imports and debating whether the lackluster returns were a result of bad decision-making or meant that it just wasn’t a very lucrative market for them when his phone started buzzing. He glanced at it briefly before picking up, just in case it was someone he really didn’t want to talk to. 

“Hey, Porsche,” he said, running his finger down a column of numbers without really looking at them, feeling the slight texture of ink on the page. “Need something?”

There was a brief pause that brought Vegas’s finger to a halt. Followed by Porsche saying, “the most important thing here is that everything is going to be fine.” (Undercut)

4. People kept telling Vegas he was lucky.

Lucky to be alive; lucky that none of the bullets had hit his heart, lucky that one of them had lodged just right to prevent an arterial bleed, lucky to avoid surgical complications or an infection considering, quote, the severity of the damage.

Lucky to be getting the best care and treatment in state-of-the-art facilities thanks to his uncle’s generosity, so fortunate, Vegas, aren’t you grateful. 

At first, for a while, Vegas was mostly just tired. (post canon vegaspete long(er) fic)

5. “You want to know why I haven’t moved on?” Xue Yang said. “Why you can’t get rid of me, Song-daozhang, no matter how much you want to?” 

Song Lan set his teeth.

“It’s you,” Xue Yang said. “Isn’t that hilarious? I’m haunting you because you’re keeping me here. I made you, and you killed me, and if you didn’t have me you’d really be alone.”

Song Lan shook his head and tried without thinking to speak the words: no, that’s not true. It came out a mess of sounds. Humiliation swept over him when Xue Yang laughed. 

“Forgot, did you,” he said. “I’m right, you know I’m right, you hate me but I’m the only other person now who knows what it’s like. You hate me but I’m the person you know best still left in this shitty world and you don’t want to be alone.”

Song Lan turned his back, resolute, refusing to look at the ghost. His heart was in his mouth; he felt sick. No, he thought. No, it’s not true. I don’t want…

“Blood and death ties people together,” Xue Yang said. “And you and me, Zichen, we’ve got plenty of both between us.” (the poison in your bones)

6. “I don’t think I’m better than everybody else,” Song Lan said. “I never have. I try to…I do my best to live by my principles.” Xue Yang’s silence felt eloquent. “When have I claimed my superiority over others?”

“You don’t have to say it,” Xue Yang said. “It’s written all over you. The way you walk, the way you look at everyone around you like they’re not worth your time.”

Song Lan was surprised by the pang of hurt. “That’s not how I feel,” he objected, but he knew – he’d heard it before, hadn’t he? He knew that people saw him as cold, aloof, unfeeling. They took his discomfort for distaste and his quiet for contempt. He was not Xingchen, who approached the world with an open heart; he never had been, but he had never needed to be. 

“Is that why you hate me so much?” Song Lan said. 

“It’s one reason,” Xue Yang said after a while. “I have plenty of others now.” He paused, and then said, bitter as wormwood again, “besides, even if you don’t think you’re better than everybody else, you definitely think you’re better than me, and you’re not. If you’d lived my life, who’s to say that you wouldn’t turn out just the same?” 

“I wouldn’t,” Song Lan objected, appalled. 

“You say that so easily,” Xue Yang said, his voice muffled, like he’d turned his mouth into his arm. “Like you just know, but you don’t. You can’t.” 

“I know I’m not a murderer,” he said. Xue Yang let out a harsh bark of a laugh.

“Maybe you weren’t,” he said. “You sure are now.” 

That ended that conversation. (Walking Far From Home)

7. “Bringing a full complement of bodyguards would be too conspicuous,” said Khun Kinn. Khun Vegas smiled and Pete thought oh no. 

“I agree,” he said. “But there is room for a plus one. He knows my staff, and most of your bodyguards, but an unfamiliar face…” Khun Vegas’s eyes drifted very slightly in Porsche’s direction before moving back to Khun Kinn. 

Oh, no, Pete thought again, but with a little more despair this time.

“Take Pete,” Khun Kinn said.

Vegas’s gaze swept to Pete, flicked slowly over him from head to toe. “Isn’t he one of Khun’s?” he said. “He won’t be thrilled that you’re loaning out his bodyguard to me.”

“That’s not your problem.”

“Considering Khun,” Vegas said, “it actually might end up being my problem.” (the devil drives)

8. “You’re a disgrace,” Kinn said. Vegas could feel his breath as he spoke. He grinned; it felt wild and barely sane. 

“And yet your family would be fucked without me to do your dirty work.” 

“Our family,” Kinn said pointedly. 

“Only when it’s convenient.” Vegas released Kinn’s shirt and shoved at his chest, pushing him back a step. “Otherwise? As far as your papa is concerned we might as well be your dogs. Or your whores.” 

Kinn’s jaw clenched. “That’s just you,” he said, cold in contrast to the hot anger in his eyes. “And don’t pretend you don’t enjoy your dirty work.”

“Just me,” Vegas said. He felt dizzy, reckless, his pulse throbbing in his ears. Drunker than he knew he was. “Which one, Kinn? Am I your dog or your whore?” (no tenderness)

9. “What’d you do?” asked the guy who’d introduced himself as Jace, who made Xue Yang think of nothing as much as the verb to skitter. Xue Yang drummed his fingers on his legs, considering how to answer that question. 

“I killed twelve people,” he said. “Would’ve been fourteen but one person was out of the house and another one I just fucked up the follow-through.” 

Three pairs of eyes stared at him. Xue Yang felt the corner of his mouth tug a little and he shrugged again. “What can I say, I’m precocious.” 

“Why?” Freddy asked. Xue Yang’s stomach clenched like a fist. He considered giving his flippant answer (I had a bad day) and his make-people-mad answer (they looked at me funny) and decided on the answer his lawyer had tried giving. 

“Just snapped, I guess,” he said. “I don’t really remember. It’s all sort of blurry.” Straight up lie, that. He remembered everything with razor sharp clarity and hoped he would forever. He’d need it. (Caged)

10. Liu Mingyan was a problem. 

If she had to be fair (though Sha Hualing was not generally interested in being fair), she was less annoying than her brother, but that was setting a remarkably high bar, and she was more annoying to Sha Hualing specifically. As far as Sha Hualing could tell, Mingyan-guniang had made it her business to interfere with Sha Hualing’s business at every possible opportunity. Sometimes it seemed like she couldn’t turn around in the Human Realm without running into her, even when Sha Hualing wasn’t doing anything wrong. Or hadn’t done anything yet, anyway. Or at least hadn’t done anything Liu Mingyan could possibly know about. (under pressure)

11. “Xue Yang,” the idiot went on, and Xue Yang’s stomach clenched like he saw Xiao Xingchen’s right hand do. “I don’t know how you escaped your rightful fate, but this time I’ll make sure I personally witness your head rolling in the dirt. And we’ll see what explanation our esteemed Chief Cultivator has for lying about your death.” 

Xue Yang glanced at Xiao Xingchen, trying to read his expression, what he was thinking. If they’d told him then he should be on their side, shouldn’t he? Unless they didn’t believe he hadn’t known, but then why hadn’t Xiao Xingchen said something, made some kind of accusation– 

He was trying to think too many things at once and none of them were getting him anywhere. 

Xue Yang screwed up his face into his best expression of offended confusion. “Who are you and what the fuck are you talking about?” (Entanglement)

[tuiyla]

My Buffy spoilers

Now that I’m about right on the middle of Buffy the Vampire Slayer I thought it was time to summarize what spoilers I know of that haven’t already come to pass. You know just for the sake of transparency and looking back on this when I actually know how it all turns out.

Spuffy: I had known about Spike’s character and how he turned from villain into Buffy’s love interest for a long time. Right now in the show Spike is only just beginning to join the gang and I find the way in which the writing enables that clever but from the very beginning of Spuffy’s interactions I was wondering how on earth they’re gonna sell this as romance later on. This isn’t the first time I watched a show knowing that an unlikely couple will come to be so, you know, we’ll see. I do have to admit that James Marsters’ performance is delightful and Spike is a fun character, I just think that he has a long way to go still. But I am only halfway through and that’s not considering AtS, so.

Dawn: kind of a bummer that I know of Dawn’s existence because I’ve heard her being referred to as the biggest plot twist of the series. Mind, I don’t know much, just that Dawn is Buffy’s little sister somehow and will shake up the status quo. Is it some wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff? Don’t know and don’t tell me, the less I know about Dawn Summers the better but I do know of her general existence.

Tara: I just watched Hush yesterday so Tara is officially part of my Buffy experience. Since I was not only around for the Gay Migration and the Bury Your Gays outcry but actively researching it for my dissertation, I am of course aware that Tara’s doomed and so is her relationship with Willow, which I’m also aware of. Still, I’m going to enjoy their journey for what it is and I’ve been anticipating Willow’s queer storyline so much so even though it’s bittersweet going into this that won’t diminish them and Tara’s ch for me. I’m so ready to see how a lesbian love story is handled just at the turn of the millennium.

Dark Willow: that’s pretty much all I know, that Willow will be tempted by the darkness at some point and temporarily (?) succumb to it. At first I thought it’d just be vampire Willow from the Wishverse but I guess not now that she’s dead. So I’m guessing it will be dark witch Willow? Given how she handled Oz leaving and knowing what I know about Tara’s eventual fate, that checks out.

Buffy’s second death and hospitalization: this is sort of just a vague plot point/two plot points but I’ve seen it said that Buffy will once again die, end of s5 maybe? But given that has happened already I’m not that shook tbh, tho who knows maybe the episode itself will be more effective than Prophecy Girl. I also wonder if it will result in yet another Slayer coming into play but I’d rather they just bring my girl Faith back. Faith :( Anyway, I’m also vaguely aware that Buffy will be sent away to a mental institution (?) at one point, possibly due to people not believing her about demons and such. Or probably as some kind of conspiracy to remove her from the picture.

Faith’s redemption: not that it’s a major spoiler and I would hope for it anyway but I’m pretty sure she’ll not only be back but get a chance to make things right and rejoin the good guys. It’s painful but I’m avoiding all things Faith to get to experience her journey for myself. I’m shaking with anticipation after having had conflicted feelings about her s3 story.

Once More With Feeling: Buffy’s musical episode is iconic to the degree that I’ve been hearing so much about it the past couple of years and know it’s considered to be the OG in terms of random musical episodes. Except I’ve heard that it’s not random, it’s clever and works really well within the show so suffice to say I can’t wait. It’s in season 6, right? So a while away. The only other well-regarded specific episode I’m aware of is The Body, ep code 5x16 if I’m correct? But I’m pretty sure that’s an emotionally brutal one based on what I’ve inferred. My only guess is that Joyce dies or something similar. But then what about Dawn? Eh, idk how Dawn comes to be in general and she could just be Buffy’s half sister, or some timeline rewriting or whatever. Anyway this is pure speculation now.

I think that’s about it. The main spoiler I was aware of that had already come to pass is there being another Slayer in Kendra and then Faith. I’m sure there will be plenty of other twists and turns that I’m not expecting whatsoever and I love that. Feel free to interact with this post or me, I only ask that you please please don’t spoil anything for me that wasn’t already mentioned here.

[cynic-spirit]

John in Jeans?

Yn often playfully teases Jonathan about his constant choice of suits. She’d notice that whether they're meeting for coffee, attending an event, or just spending time together, Jonathan always seems to be dressed in impeccably tailored suits.

One day, as they’re enjoying their usual morning coffee at the barista, Yn leans across the table, a mischievous smile on her lips. “You know, Jonathan, you could probably set a world record for the number of suits worn in a month. Do you ever take a break from looking like a model for a fashion magazine?”

Jonathan chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he adjusts his cufflinks. “It’s just my way of ensuring I’m always prepared to impress you.”

Yn raises an eyebrow playfully. “Impress me? Or impress everyone else? I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to compete with the mannequins at the tailor’s.”

Jonathan’s grin widens. “And what’s wrong with that? A gentleman must always be well-dressed, after all.”

Yn takes a sip of her coffee, still smirking. “Well, you’re certainly making it difficult for me to keep up with your style. Maybe I should start matching your wardrobe, just to keep things interesting.”

Jonathan’s gaze softens, his smile genuine. “You can tease me all you like, Yn, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Your presence brightens my day, no matter what I’m wearing.”

Yn laughs, reaching across the table to give his hand a playful squeeze. “Just promise me one thing—every once in a while, wear something that doesn’t involve a suit. I’d love to see you in something a little more… relaxed.”

Jonathan’s eyes sparkle with affection as he nods. “Consider it done. For you, I’ll make an exception. But I promise, even in something more casual, I’ll still aim to impress.”

Their banter about his suits becomes a cherished part of their interactions, a lighthearted reminder of the ease and affection that defines their relationship. Jonathan’s willingness to play along with Yn’s teasing only deepens their connection, highlighting the joy they find in each other’s company.

In the bustling confines of Jonathan Pine’s office, his goons were gathered, discussing their usual matters. Their conversations were punctuated by the occasional clink of coffee cups and the hum of activity from outside.

"Did you see the boss today?" one of the goons, Mike, asked with a mix of surprise and amusement. "He’s wearing jeans and a shirt. I’ve never seen him out of a suit before."

Another goon, Tony, shook his head in disbelief. "I thought it was some kind of joke at first. Jonathan Pine in jeans? That’s like seeing a lion in a tutu."

“Yeah, and the shirt was just plain white,” added Marco, still in shock. “No tie, no cufflinks. Just a jacket and jeans. He looks like he’s going on a casual day out or something.”

Mike laughed. “It’s almost like he’s trying to blend in with the regular folks. I mean, I’ve seen him dressed down before, but this? This is something else.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You think something’s up? Maybe he’s trying a new approach or something?”

Marco shrugged. “Who knows? But whatever it is, he looks pretty damn relaxed. Even his demeanor was different today. Less… intense.”

The group exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued but their respect for Jonathan unwavering. They knew better than to question their boss’s choices, no matter how unorthodox.

When Yn met Jonathan that day, she was taken aback by his casual yet striking appearance. He greeted her at their usual spot with a relaxed smile, dressed in well-fitted jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a stylish jacket that complemented his look. The change from his usual suits was so dramatic that Yn couldn't help but be captivated.

“Oh my God, Jonathan! Is that really you?” Yn exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise and delight. She immediately pulled out her phone and began snapping photos, capturing the rare, relaxed side of Jonathan.

Jonathan chuckled, his smile widening at her reaction. “Do you like it? I thought I’d surprise you with something a bit different today.”

Yn’s eyes sparkled as she clicked away. “You look amazing! I’ve never seen you like this before. It’s like a whole new side of you. I definitely need to remember this moment.”

Jonathan, clearly pleased by her reaction, struck a few playful poses, enjoying the attention. “Well, I’m glad you approve. I figured it was time for a change. And I must admit, it feels nice to be a bit more relaxed.”

Yn’s laughter filled the air as she continued to take pictures. “You look fantastic, Jonathan. I’m so glad I get to see this side of you. It’s a great look, and I’m going to make sure I have plenty of memories of it.”

As Yn continued to snap photos, Jonathan’s cheeks tinged with a faint blush. He laughed, trying to hide his embarrassment with a playful groan.

“Stop taking my pictures!” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and mild exasperation.

Yn grinned, lowering her phone but not without a last, approving look at him. “Sorry, Jonathan. I just couldn’t resist. You look so charming in this new look. It’s a nice change from the usual suits.”

Jonathan shook his head, smiling despite himself. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to get used to this then. If it makes you happy, I guess it’s worth the blush.”

Yn stepped closer, giving him a warm hug. “You’re perfect just the way you are, Jonathan. Suit or no suit.”

[jennaliz]

IN A MOMENT

Held in the arms of the boy of her dreams while staring wistfully into his eyes was not how Elle planned for this day to end. He gazed deep into her eyes as if reading her deepest desires. For a moment, she swore that he glanced at her lips. Her cheeks flared a deep blush at the sight of him slowly but surely leaning in. How did I even get here? she wondered. 

***

The morning was like every other morning of the year. People bustled about down the street, a cold breeze nipped at everybody’s nose, and chattering teeth echoed around the block. Except for the fact that it was also a day of celebration. For today was Christmas Adam's Day. The day when everyone woke up extra early to put up all the Christmas decorations and buy every last-minute present. It is considered one of the most stressful days of the year, right below Christmas Eve when the last-last minute preparations begin.

On this morning, Elle, a quiet, starry-eyed teen, was looking forward to this day more than ever in previous years. For today, she was going to meet Jason. A boy she had a crush on for years, and miraculously, she gathered the courage to ask him out just shy a few weeks ago. To her surprise and delight, he enthusiastically agreed. Now, on the day of, she woke up extra early to mark off her calendar and get ready. 

Elle threw on a thick parka and an extra fuzzy scarf before heading into the town-square where they agreed to meet. The town square was packed and overly crowded as people of all ages scrambled back and forth. 

Worried if he would even be able to find her, she fiddled with her phone to keep herself occupied. Scrolling, through her phone, her eyes caught sight of the time. Jason is late. She observed. You do not need to worry, Elle. Maybe there is traffic. You do not need to question if Jason has lost track of the time doing something better. Or that this whole date was a mean prank-- OK. Not thinking about that. Definitely not. She glared down at the phone in her hands, debating within herself. A quick call shouldn't hurt, would it? Before thinking any further, she impulsively dialed his number. As it rang, Elle paced around the town square. Her eyes darted around in an effort to spot Jason somewhere. 

Finally, the ringing stopped. Before Elle opened her mouth, she heard, “I am so sorry. I know I’m late, but I have a good explanation—”

“Hold on, Jason! Where are you right now?”

There is silence before Elle hears a sigh. “I’m... on the other side of town. I just- I just got busy is all... I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it.”

That one word echoed in her brain. Busy? We agreed to spend the day together weeks ago, so how are you suddenly busy?

Jason’s voice continues through the phone speaker, but it just goes in one ear and out the other. Cutting him off, Elle questioned him. “What do you mean ‘busy’? I thought you weren’t volunteering for anything this year so we could spend time together?”

A sigh traveled through the phone. Elle pictured him rubbing his neck like usual when stressed. “I know. I wasn’t planning on volunteering or anything,” he pauses, “ At least, I wasn’t volunteering today. Maybe tomorrow—”

“Jason!”

A small shriek followed by a clattering sound echoed through the phone as she imagined him dropping his. “Yes, sorry! I just got cornered by the committee after we last spoke, and you know. I’ve always had a problem saying no to people, so I had to help them!”

Sighing, she shook her head, running a hand down her face. “You really need to work on your boundaries,” she mumbled. “I guess I have no choice.”

“...What do you mean?”

“I’ll just have to volunteer with you.”

“You’d do that?” He whispered. “For me?”

Rolling her eyes, she shrugged. “I asked you on a date, and if that’s the only way to spend time with you, then of course. I’ll do it. Plus, another set of hands will make things go twice as fast. Won’t they?”

Jason chuckled. “If you say so. I’ll send you the address and meet you out front. Alright?”

***

The work did go twice as fast when they worked together. Time flew by in the midst of frayed tinsel, glitter bombs, and torn wrapping paper. Before they knew it, Elle and Jason were free to go, spend time together, and have fun. 

However, despite the sun already setting, the crowds were nowhere close to thinning out. With no place to go without a reservation or unsuspecting mistletoe, Elle was prepared to reschedule their date for another day, preferably after the holiday craze had subsided. Jason, on the other hand, was not going to let all of Elle’s hard work go to waste. 

He had grasped her wrist with his hand and led her deep into the forest. Eventually, they reached a frozen lake that shined, an almost silver blue, as the moon reflected onto its surface. Trees surrounded the lake's edge, blocking any view of the neighboring civilization. 

“What do you think?” Jason looked at her with shy smile and eyes that seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. 

Elle stood frozen. Her mouth opened and closed as words struggled to find their way on her tongue. She glanced into his eyes once, twice, three times before ultimately keeping her gaze on the ice before her.

Her hands tremored slightly, until Jason reached out and grasped her hands in his own. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Elle startled at the sudden question. “What?” She darted her eyes to him only to be met with his concerned gaze. “Oh! Yes. I’m perfectly okay.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief before softening. “Come on, then.” He tugged her hands forward, pulling her along with him.

Exhaling a slow breath, she silently followed behind him. Good job, Elle. The one thing you can’t do is the one thing he wants to do. The snow crunched beneath her feet as every step sounded like a clock ticking down until her doom (also known as complete and utter embarrassment). Was she dragging her feet on with step? Maybe, but she’s always been terrified of stepping foot on ice, and that wasn’t going to change just because a pretty boy said so.

To distract herself from her spiraled thoughts, she looked up to make small talk, only to be startled by Jason’s eyes already on her. His gaze burned deep into her soul. She desperately wanted to look away, but she refused to lose any pride and dignity she had left. 

His stare permeated a moment longer before he asked, “Have you ever ice-skated before?” 

Elle flinched in response. There’s the million-dollar question. “Well...” 

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow in question.

Elle groaned. “Do I know what ice-skating is? Yes. Do I understand how to ice-skate? In theory, yes. But have I ever stepped a single foot on ice?” She raised her hands in a vague gesture before shrugging instead. Embarrassed to look in his eyes any-further, she found interest in her snow-covered boots.

“Do you... Do you mind if I, maybe, teach you?”

Her eyes widen as her head snapped up to look at him. A light blush dusted his cheeks, only to darken under her innocent gaze. Unable to fight off a smile, she grinned. “Sure,” she whispered.

***

Jason looped his arm with hers, keeping her parallel with him, as he slowly guided them around the ice. After a few stumbles, falls, and laps, he moved to hold onto her hand. Jason slowly skated backwards and pulled her along. Every time Elle tripped over her own feet, he’d slow down and grasp her waist. Letting her know, he would be there if she fell.

A long while more, Elle finally grew confident enough to try on her own, and then, she promptly fell onto her backside. Jason’s hand flew to his mouth to cover his chuckles, and even though Elle glared at him for doing so, she also let out a few laughs at herself.

Getting back up, they continued skating alongside each other. Elle at her snail’s pace, and Jason doing jumps and spins every now and then to make Elle smile. Until Elle tripped over a stray tree branch, which sent her tumbling into Jason, knocking them both to ground.

Held in his arms, she laid on top of him frozen. Elle’s face felt as though it were on fire compared to her numb, frozen limbs. Jason’s face was also stained with a dark red hue. They’re eyes refused to leave the other. Too afraid to blink. Too afraid to move.

Elle swore his eyes glanced at her lips. Her eyes did the same.

Jason hesitantly licked his lips and started to lean in, and so did she. I hope this moment never ends. She thinks as his lips meet hers.

[thatyamiguy-blog]

2 tales from the soul Society (bleach)

1. The best laid plans

Ichigo hummed to himself as he finished cleaning up the one story house he and Reniji had recently gotten. After getting married the pair had decided to move to the soul society full time, a move that was helped by the fact that Ichigo's bratty ways had recently gotten worse and there was only so many time one could expect to get away with hanging annoying kids by the back of their undies from trees before the law would have to get involved. Still they had a nice place, and Reniji while not at the best possible job, was raking in enough cash for them to live comfortably, all things considered it could of been worse. It also gave the happy pair time to indulge in a shared kink: diaper and age play. Make no mistake, while Ichigo whined and pointed out over and over again just HOW cute Reniji would look in diapers, the red head maintained that Ichigo was the baby of the house. Plus while Ichigo was a good little boy wife (Reniji's pet name for the chore bitch) he didn't wanna shatter his image of alpha male in the house hold by having Ichigo clean his poopie cheeks. It was Friday night and Reniji for a change didn't have to work in the morning and had texted Ichigo as the chore boy finished up what he wanted to do. Ichigo had a impish grin on his face as he texted back, having already decided mentally it was gonna be a daddy and me night, but told Reniji that he just wanted to relax and watch movies, and asked him to get some and some take out on his way home for work. Knowing it wouldn't take his 'daddy' too long to pick some movies and get some food (Fast food really WAS fast food in the soul society, anther point in it's favor) Ichigo made his way to the bathroom closet and dug out his enema kit.

Daddy was a firm believer that while he didn't always enjoy the smell, all big babies like his cutie pie Ichigo should be more then willing to make LOTS of 'presents' for their daddies. Ironically when they had first started all of this, it had been Ichigo who was less then a fan of poopie diapers and enemas. These days however, filling himself up and fighting to hold it in before soiling himself like a big dumb baby was so orgasmic there was 50/50 chance the big baby would cream the front of his diapers while loading the back. The tricky part in all of this was that Reniji thought plastic diapers were wasteful, and so Ichigo would have to somehow get his diapers pinned on and plastic pants tugged over them without letting out the water and sludge from his butt once he took the plug out. of course, only daddy thought that was still a hard struggle, but Ichigo had taken up some 'training' so to speak and while it wasn't always a sure fire thing, he had a high success rate. and had dealt with the clean up involved with his failures. It might of helped if it wasn't for the fact that Ichigo insisted on filling the bag to the brim, and oils and soaps to ensure all sorts of delightful cramps. Still it was a labor of love and he didn't think twice as he mixed his little brew up and shook the bag, before hanging it on the shower rod.

He had of course, already stripped naked, his hairless body a result of shaving and grooming and his modest manhood was twitching and awaiting the fun as he lubed up the suggestively shaped nozzle with one hand while working in a lubed up finger or two in and out of his rosebud to make this go as smooth as possible. Mindful that there WAS a time limit here, he forced the nozzle in hard and fast and almost lost it right there, hunched over the bathroom sink and letting out a soft "Oh daddy!" Somehow he managed to keep his load in and gasping softly he opened the valve on the bag, filling his insides with the hot mixture and whimpering as he rubbed his growing belly. "oh fuck..oh fuck..I'm getting pregnant with a mud baby just fer daddy Reniji." Ichigo coo'ed stupidly at his reflection, his eyes going dim as his hornless took him over. Somehow he manged NOT to give in and jack off, eve if his cock head was dripping a almost steady level of pre which meant he had to keep dabbing at it with a wad of tissue. The bag filled him quick enough and Ichigo giggled, rubbing his belly a few times and savoring the cramps with his eyes closed, before moving onto the next stage of operation: present for daddy.

The terrycloth diapers Reniji got Ichigo were slightly stained, there were some things that all the elbow grease in the world just couldn't get out and Reniji insisted that Ichigo wasn't getting new diapers till the old one's were too worn out to use/too filthy to keep using. 'hehehehe two birds one stone!' the big baby giggled, having gotten them and the large diaper pins ready before stuffing his guts. pre powdered and everything, Ichigo tugged the nozzle out and willed his hole to close as he plopped back onto the diapers, tugging them up and getting the pins in. Ideally he'd like to say this present for daddy to see happen, but his tummy was cramping and gurgling, so Ichigo would have to take what he could get. Moaning softly and his tummy sloshing, Ichigo went for the cherry on the cake so to speak, tugging up a pair of plastic pants he'd claimed to have lost but had been working on in secret. working to stitch onto the back of the clear pants in jet black 'poo poo pants'. 'Daddies gonna squeal when he see's dat!' Ichigo thought proudly. he toyed with getting a diaper shirt on, but between the size of his tummy and the diaper butt, he'd of had to struggle and it would of popped open when he bent over anyways. He could of slid a top on at least but figured fuck it, lots of babies ran around in just their diapers and it wouldn't be like Reniji wasn't gonna be washing him soon anyways. decision made, Ichigo toddled towards the hallway in from of the front door and turned around,bracing himself on a small table for key's and the like and waited, his butt facing the door and listening for the sound of daddies keys.

Reniji was having a good day, and actually was looking forward to a nice lazy night. he didn't wanna tell Ichigo and break the little cuties heart, but he semi needed a break from wiping the big babies butt. truthfully he would of maybe liked to go out for drinks, but had just picked up a bottle of sake along with some stir fry and picked out a action comedy. He'd also run into two of their old friends, Toshiro and Kenpachi (though with Kenpachi, friend might of been pushing it..) and they had semi invited themself over for a few drinks. 'I'm sure Ichigo won't mind company for a little bit.' Reniji thought, listing to the other two captain's argue over who drink more behind. "Guys, for the record, Unless you wanna go and get your own bottles, take it easy." Reniji called playfully over his shoulder, then slid the key's into the lock. they might of lived in a ok neighborhood but Reniji still didn't want someone just waltzing in.

Hearing the key's in the lock Ichigo gave a Cheshire grin and mentally giggled, while in a soft voice went "it's showtime~" and relaxed his control, letting out a massive wet fart and then more.. as he heard Reniji start to speak up."Hi sweetie I'm home! hope you don't mind but I ran into some friends...of..ours.." Reniji said before his voiced dropped off, and he facepalmed. Looking over his shoulder, and helpless to stop the torment of sludge that was escaping out of his bottom, Ichigo saw Toshiro looking at him amused till the smell hit him, then the platinum blond was holding his nose and waving a hand, and Kenpachi who just broke out into loud laughter. Blushing big time time and shaking, Ichigo gave a weak little wave and a soft "Oh..uh...Hiiii..." "nice huggies poo poo pants!" Toshiro grumbled, still holding his nose and Kenpachi just laughed harder. "-sigh-.. can you guys give me a few, apparently I have to put the baby down to bed..or at least change him." Reniji said, going from annoyed to smirking. "DADDY!"

2. Anger leads to bad choices

Ichigo hummed softly, he was once again cleaning the house, and it had a been a few week's since the disaster that had been the so called lazy night. Toshiro and Kenpachi had agreed to keep it to themselves, but mostly because who would believe them? Reniji had been a little bit less then pleased with Ichigo for fibbing, but Ichigo had gotten away with just having to go to bed in the spare room (AKA his nursery) without a diaper change and listen to the adults have fun. Still some babies never learn their lesson, so while Ichigo was shaking his hips and singing a few of his favorite pop songs from the human world, he was wearing thinner set of diapers and plastic pant's, that puffed out the back of his diaper shirt and poked out the leg holes. it was a pale blue diaper shirt with a big yellow star on the front, though the star was currently hidden by the black apron Ichigo was wearing while he dusted. the apron was a basic black and held extra wipes and a spare duster, as well as the music player that the big baby was listening to as he rocked that jam. He was currently in the living room, and had opened the curtains to let some sunlight in under the impression that the kids on the block were still away at some semi form of a summer camp, a assumption that would prove to be VERY wrong.

It was Kul who first noticed the sight of the big baby dancing in plain sight, and he'd crept across the lawn of Mean mister Ichigo, who was prone to yell at kids to stay off the awn and give them wedgies if they didn't listen. the reason why he kept kids away became clear as the close Kul got, the clearer it was the block grump was a silly big baby. Kul was small for his age and had a shaved head, but despite his tiny size he was somewhat known as the block tough guy and a semi hero to bullying victims. so naturally, seeing the biggest bully of them al was just a big dumb baby, he couldn't keep it to himself and waved over anther boy, Toji. "What is it?" Toji asked, raising a eyebrow as Kul put a finger to his lips. "And are you crazy? this is grumpy pants yard!" Toji added, lowering his voice to a hiss. Kul just grinned and pointed at the window, and Toji paused and then broke into a grin. "No friggen way.." "Go spread the word." Ku said.

Ichigo somehow missed the gathering of fan's outside the window, at least till he was wrapping up the final song on his play list and was paying the duster like it was a guitar. As the music faded and he dropped down to one knee, he opened his eyes wide as the sound of laughter and clapping filled his ears. Looking back at him, pointing and laughing, were all the kids on the block, and more, as apparently news of his little show had gotten out. they were pointing and laughing and chants for a encore broke out. His face turning Crimson Ichigo went to jump up but the padding had gotten damp from a combination of a wetting or two and the sweat he had worked up and instead he stumbled and plopped on his puffy butt instead. Naturally this only made the kids laugh harder, and some of them were taking pictures now as tears started to fill the big babies eyes. "Stop it! stop it!" Ichigo whined and pounded his fists on the floor, trying to glare at them and scare them away. Instead they giggled and d'awwed, and he heard at east one kid comment the big baby was having a tantrum. "I'll show you a tantrum!" Ichigo growled, and rolling onto his hands and knees, he crawled over quick towards the couch and used it to get to his feet, as the hoot's of laughter turned into sounds of worry. "I'm coming out then and giving you all wedgies so hard you'll be tasting your undies for a week! No! a MONTH!" he vowed, and on his way out the door shut the curtains. waddling out the door he never once paused to think about the fact he was STILL dressed like a big baby, or that he hadn't grabbed his keys when Reniji had installed automatic looking doors.

the kids had started to scatter as the front door flew open and Ichigo darted out onto the lawn, eyes filled with fury as he scanned the gathered crowd. "All right! who's fi-" he started, when he heard the sound of the door clicking shut. such had been the force when he'd opened it it had banged off of the wall and bounced back closed, and the loud click was the lock sliding into pace. "-st..Oh shit.." Ichigo whimpered. "pffft..did you just lock yourself out, diaper baby?" Kul asked, in a loud voice. "I..uh..Noo! I just.." Ichigo whined. "Well, if you're NOT stuck out here in your thick diapie wipies, go back inside baby man." Toji called. the other kids gained back their nerve as Ichigo's  anger was replaced with a trembling bottom lip, and he turned back, waddling towards the door, and letting out a LOUD fart. "Ah geez, the BABY is gonna crap himself..Now I DO hope he can get back inside!" a little girl called out. "S-Shut up! no I'm not!" Ichigo whined, even as anther fart erupted out of his backside. He tugged at the door handle once, twice and then a third time and sniffled, as the laughter grew. "awww poor baby Ichigo locked him poor widdle self out! he'll have to wait till daddies home to wet him in~" "Oh man,m he's gonna smell like a sewer by then!" "Yeah, sorry BABY butt, but while i have a little brother, your butt's WAY to big for his diapers!" as the taunts came faster and faster, Ichigo felt tears sliding down his cheeks and sludge flood into the back of his diapers. "STOP BEING SO MEAN TO WIDDLE ME!" he bawled, sinking to his knees and bawling for daddy. "..ah geez.. ok guys I think he's had enough.." kul said, coming over and holding a nose, but patting the big babies head. "there there, your big brothers and sisters will look after you." Kul said with a smile. Ichigo, just whimpered and sucked his thumb and the crotch snap of his diaper shirt popped opened.

The last thing Reniji expected to see as he came into view of his house was Ichigo of all people, surrounded by kids from around the block and clapping his hands and giggling happily. He was naked save for what looked like a rubber sheet that have been mangled into a somewhat passable diaper and his eyes were basically bank as he coo'ed and giggled, calling the kids around him big brother and big sister. '..this is going to be a interesting story.' Reniji thought, and strolled up.