#might go watch some others since it's relatively short

[vroomvroomwee]

Crowley is Lucifer

(Ok I know some of you don't believe this theory but I highly suggest you give this a quick read anyway. I tried to make it short and easy and I'll be going chronologically, from s1 all through s2)

- First, let's get this out of the way, Lucifer and Satan aren't neccesarilly the same person. Even in the show the devil that appeared in s1 has only ever been reffered to as Satan, not even once as Lucifer.

- In the bible Lucifer was the one to tempt Eve with the apple, and who do we know that does that in the show. Crowley is literally THE snake from Eden.

- An obvious one perhaps, but the red hair is also a giveaway

- In the bible Jesus was tempted by the devil for 30 days, in the show Crowley says "I showed him all the kingdoms of the world", so that's another role Lucifer has that Crowley had in the show

- It's well known (even mentioned in the Sandman) that Lucifer was the most beautiful of all angels, and our demon is played by no other than David Tennant

Now on to season 2 because there's a LOT to unpack here

- He litterally started the engine of the universe which was one of Lucifers roles

- He's the first to say "let there be light", which is pretty fucking huge since that is Gods line

- "I worked closely with upstairs on it" even in the first scene they're telling us Crowley is an angel of very very high rank

- He fell for asking questions, which is litterally what Lucifer fell for, for questioning God. This in and of itself should be a pretty big indicator. "I only ever asked questions"

- Shax: "a miracle of enourmous power only the mightiest of archangels can perform"

Crowley: "How do you know I didn't do it"

And Shax just... doesn't counter that. She looks even skeptical, as if it COULD be a possibility, unlike Uriel who says to Aziraphale don't excpect us to believe you did it. Shax litterally doesn't shut the option down which confirms Crowley has the power not only of an archangel but of the mightiest kind

- In the bookshop with Gabriel/Jim he says "I don't remember. It [gravity] seemed like a good idea when we were all talking about it"

- "You're welcome to come in, you might even spot an archangel" don't tell me this was Crowley just egging Shax on and not being sneaky

- The fact that he could sense the demons coming. "Somethings wrong""It's coming in waves", when Aziraphale couldn't. It could be a demon thing but we saw Sandalphon, an archangel of lower rank, in the first season mention "something smells evil" so obviously angels can sense demons too, they just have to be powerful enough. And keep in mind Sandalphon was already in the book shop for quite some time, Crowley sensed them even before they had arrived (he also sensed the hell hound who was some fucking miles away)

- The.fucking.folder. "You have to be a throne or dominion above" and this dude opens these clasified documents like it's nothing. If this isn't an indicator of his high position as an angel I don't know what is.

- He's worked with Saraqael, another very high ranking angel

- "I'm the only first order archangel in the room"... and the camera imediately pans to Crowley, and for anyone who's read the book and watched the show you know that rarely anything is coincidental

- When the Metatron says they can't lose another prince of heaven. This... this fucking line. So it's relatively well known that Gabriel and Lucifer are brothers, and if Gabriel is one of the princes of heaven I wonder who the other one could be. "Two princes of heaven". And the Metatrons words were very careful, he doesn't say lost as in heaven can't find him, he says it in the context that they won't be sending Gabriel to hell since they won't lose another prince to downstairs

- In the bookshop when no one can identify the Metatron he turns to Crowley who imediately recognises him. Now you have this dude, who's literally on top of the angel hierarchy and is responsible for running heaven and the connection to God themself, surrounded by archangels and a principality you spoke to face to face with just a few years ago and... none of them can tell who you are, the only one who does is the literal demon. That tells us that Crowley has not only seen him in this form, but has probably worked with the Metaron himself personally. "Always asking damn fool questions", 10 million angels and he remembers what this one particular angel was like 6000 years ago

- Crowley is also very reluctant to reveal his identity as an angel. Now if he were just an ordinary angel of no real significance he wouldn't have a problem revealing his name, but... if his name was one that's the literal representation of all evil in this world, then it is understandable he keeps it a secret, in fear he might scare Aziraphale away

- And I wanted to leave the best for last. So you remember in the book when Crowley has to sign his name to start Armaggedon, and Hastur tells him "no, your real name" after which he reluctantly writes it. Now in the book we never see him write anything, but in the show we see him write a sygil, something that looks very mich like an L. An L... A FUCKING L. And now I wonder how this theory didn't come up sooner.

(Also he can fucking stop time, like dafuq)

Edit:

- "Oh looky here it's Lucifer and the guys" we all thought he was talking about someone else, he's just refferencing things other angels have said about HIM. FUCK

- I keep seing people saying Crowleys memories were wiped because he couldn't remember Saraqael and Furfur. But I think people forget, demons lie. He's lying to make them think he's not that angel they worked with, that he's not Lucifer. (In season 1 we hear him a few times refferencing his life as an angel, so he does remember most of it)

- Also saying if the Raphael theory were true then as showrunners they would have mentioned him somewhere for those not that familiar with the bible (or don't read much fanfiction). The refferences for Crowleys past are so so vague that it would be too sudden and confusing if he were Raphael. But there is one name that everyone is familiar with, no matter who you are how old you are or where you're from, a name that needs no introduction.

Edit 2:

- Back to him being the most beautiful angel, I don't think it was ever quite explained how every single demon when they're in hell looks... awful, but Crowley doesn't. Beelzebub has the spores all over their face, Hastur the maggots and the sh-, Dagon the scales etc. But Crowley doesn't, not even when he's in hell, he's always just so, well, pretty.

- I saw a few people asking about how Lucifer started the rebellion and Crowley wouldn't do that. I think it's the same Crowley who wouldn't get stuck in traffic after creating the M25, or the same Crowley that wanted to call Aziraphale after bringing down the entire London network, "you told them you invented the spanish inquisition, and started the second world war""so the humans beat me to it that's not my fault", "so all this is your demonic work?""no, the humans thought it up themselves nothing to do with me"

- Also I think Satan's in charge of hell not Crowley the same way the Metatron's in charge of heaven and not Gabriel (and who can very easily demote angels if he so wishes)

Edit 3:

- like some of you pointed out Lucifer is also known/means Light-bringer. And Crowley was the first to say "let there be light."

- The file he opens with Muriel is Gabriels file, a class A archangel, so if he knows the password to that it means that either he's on the same level as Gabriel, or above him.

#crowley is lucifer #goodomenss2 #crowley #goodomens #aziraphale #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #goodomenss2spoilers #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #goodomens2 #goodomensspoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens s2 #good omens season two #good omens series 2 #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens s2 spoilers

[its-time-to-write]

just a short little Thanksgiving blurb for all my American girlies 🥰🦃

ours

You force yourself back to the present, where your twelve year-old cousin is updating you on the latest middle school drama. 

“…and that’s why boys named Max are a red flag, but dogs named Max are not,” she concludes. 

You giggle and nod appropriately, taking a sip from your drink. The house is filled with the entire family this Thanksgiving and while it’s pleasantly crowded, it still feels like a part of you is missing. 

Your phone is securely in your bag, a tactic to try to keep yourself from replaying highlights from the England match from the previous weekend. Every other WAG got to go support their man, but you were stuck in America with pre-Thanksgiving work. Thanksgiving has only been going on for twenty minutes, and you’re ready to call it and go home. 

International dating is hard.

Your mom can tell, so she’s been giving you tasks to do all day. She must’ve told your grandma or maybe she’s just incredibly observant, because she’s picked up the mantle as well and neither of them give you enough time to be alone with your thoughts. 

It’s nice of them, except now the family’s here and everyone’s asking about your boyfriend. They don’t care that he’s a footballer (in the best way) and they’re all excited for you, but you wish he were here. 

Maybe you can sneak upstairs and call him. 

You do some quick math and realize he should be asleep so you sigh and ask your cousin if she wants to come with you to steal macaroni and cheese. 

She smiles and says, “Yes, duh.”

“It’s going to be tricky,” you warn. “My mom and your mom are going to be on the lookout.”

“I bet Grandpa will sneak us some,” she reminds you. Oh yes, Grandpa would do anything for his granddaughters. 

You grab her hand and weave through aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, cousins and a few other relatives. You’re pretty sure this is the biggest Thanksgiving you’ve ever had. 

You and your cousin successfully get your hands on two bowls of mac and cheese, and slip away to an unoccupied corner to eat it. 

You’re smiling and not thinking about Jamie at all. This is your favorite cousin, the one who’s eleven years younger than you, but you two have been doing dumb shit together since she could talk. 

You’re almost done when someone slides into your space, pressing their arm against yours. Your cousin’s eyes widen as she looks at you and you turn, expecting to see an aunt or god-forbid one of your snitch brothers. 

Instead, you’re met with blue eyes and a familiar smile. 

You choke on your last bite of food as you launch yourself into Jamie’s arms.  

“What are you doing here?” you ask, refusing to let go of him. “You have a match this weekend.”

He shrugs, still smiling. “Ah, you know, gotta be culturally sensitive with my American girlfriend, babe. Milestones and all that.”

You raise an eyebrow. There’s no way Roy let him go with that excuse. 

“Or I might have injured meself at the match last week and am out of training for two weeks,” Jamie says. 

“You’re hurt?” you exclaim. “Why didn’t you call me? Should you have been on a plane? What happened?”

You’ve inadvertently tightened your grip around Jamie’s neck, so he reaches up to remove your hands, still keeping them in his. He lifts them up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. 

“I’m fine. Just my ankle. But I figured, who not come surprise ya?”

“Does my mom know you’re here?”

Jamie’s grin turns cocky. “Called your mum and dad three days ago. I’m staying in their guest room, ain’t I? Got in this morning before you lot showed up.”

Your cousin has been watching this scene a little open-mouthed the whole time. “I wish my boyfriend would do that for me,” she murmurs. 

Your head snaps over to her. “Your what,” you say to her and she holds her hands up defensively. 

“Oh look it’s your English boyfriend who flew all the way to America for Thanksgiving, why don’t you kiss him some more?” she deflects, and Jamie shoots her a wink and tilts your face up for a kiss so your cousin can get away. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you tell him. “Oh my gosh, we’re going to have the BEST time. Get ready to have your mind blown, little British boy.”

“Anything for you, Miss America,” he teases. “Just don’t make me try those mushroom things I saw, looked fucking awful, that.”

You pull a shocked face. “Oh but it’s tradition. Everyone has to suffer through my uncle Darren’s gross stuffed mushrooms at least once. And since you’re new here…” you trail off. 

Jamie grimaces while you giggle and run a hand through his hair. God, you can’t believe he’s here and while you aren’t thrilled he’s injured, maybe it’s not such a bad thing. 

“C’mon,” you say, tugging him to the kitchen. “I want to go yell at mom and dad for not telling me you were coming.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[wander-wren]

sometimes i wonder about what fandom is going to look like in 5 or 10 years. i think we might have already started to see a shift.

because, look, most of the oldest, biggest fandoms are from tv shows and movies, in particular ones that go on for years and scores of episodes. star trek, star wars, stargate (is everything star?), doctor who, supernatural…even sherlock really got its biggest popularity boosts in the modern day from tv adaptations. marvel and dc were comics first, too, but movies made them more accessible; their “cinematic universe” tags are the biggest on ao3 by far.

but what tv shows are we getting now? short, 8-episode things that get canceled two or three seasons in, that are usually less-than-faithful adaptations of other media anyway.

what movies are we getting? well, marvel turns more to slop every day, and everything else is remakes and sequels no one asked for. the general populace will still go see them and find some good movies that they like, but there’s not much really for fandom to grasp onto.

the best shows for fandom that we’ve had recently, that i can think of, are stranger things, game of thrones, and maybe our flag means death. stranger things is dying off, especially since they’re looking at a 3-4 YEAR gap between s4 and s5. game of thrones’s popularity plummeted after its final season, we all know that. our flag means death is still chugging fairly okay, but after that second season a lot of the fandom dropped it, and with it now being cancelled, i don’t see it sticking around.

yes, we can chalk part of this up to a new generation to of fans having this growing idea that fandom is super temporary, to be abandoned as soon as its not on trend. but media used to be on trend for a whole lot longer than it is now. seasons were longer, we had filler episodes, things were lower quality sometimes but at least they came out on a consistent schedule. i don’t mind if supernatural isn’t an artistic masterpiece, but if i was a stranger things fan waiting until 2026 for the final season, i would be annoyed if it wasn’t damn near perfect. that’s assuming i watched it at all—we’re all so used to not getting endings and moving on, so why would i bother?

i think there are two types of shows doing sort of okay about this. one is procedurals—9-1-1 is a popular one i’ve run into, and it started in 2018, around the beginning of the decline, but it’s managed 7 seasons in those six years, most of them with 18 episodes. the other is, honestly, anime—though we can and SHOULD talk about the terrible working conditions that make the fast turnarounds there possible. look at how big some anime fandoms are.

judging by the relative fandom popularity of other procedural dramas (grey’s anatomy, law & order, criminal minds), i think that’s going to remain sort of niche. fandom likes fantasy and scifi best, and they just don’t tend to have as strong of an overarching arc to dig into. at least, that’s why i wouldn’t watch them. i think there’s also a good chance these will start to die out in the coming years as well.

anime could also die out a little bit. better working conditions would necessitate less/slower content, and it’s true that most of the popular anime fandoms have been around for years, even decades.

so, what, no new, lasting tv show or movie fandoms anymore?

what will the biggest fandoms be in 5-10 years?

podcast fandoms have a shot. the magnus archives is still going strong, and i’ve been seeing a lot about dungeons and daddies. i think we’re kind of almost past the golden age for podcasts, but i am an outsider, so maybe that will change.

book fandoms seem like a kind of obvious choice, but they just don’t get as big without, you guessed it, a movie or show adaptation. and the downsizing has hit them, too—can you think of anything from the last 5 or 10 years that rivals harry potter, percy jackson, warriors, lord of the rings, hunger games, acotar…even game of thrones (asoiaf) again? i can’t. the collapse of the publishing industry is another post entirely.

2020 is really what cemented these changes, though they were starting in the late 2010s, at least. with actual industries shutting down, there was room for indie creators making things alone in their houses to pop up, and people had more time on their hands to try new things out and get into them.

the two things that have really been on the rise since 2020 is rpf and video game fic—often both combined. we’ve got genshin impact, call of duty, minecraft of course being huge, rpf of various youtubers, and k-pop rpf. now, i think rpf is contentious enough that it won’t really become the main fandom, but video game fic…might be it.

even video blogging rpf can often be a blurred enough line that people are more comfortable with it. and the thing is…youtube creators are actually more reliable than mainstream television these days. they need to be, to maintain their platforms. they need to not cancel series and to live up to their own hype as best they can and to not abandon the channel for 3 or 4 years at a time. and again, you can talk about burnout and unrealistic expectations and all of those things, but it’s still true.

maybe i’m completely wrong. maybe in 10 years the film and publishing industries will all sort themselves out and we’ll go back to the status quo. but i think this position fandom is finding itself in is interesting, and i wouldn’t necessarily be surprised if what’s most popular (both in the specific source material sense and the medium/genre sense) is different some time down the road.

#wren wrambles #fanfiction #ao3 #fandom #fandom meta #fanfic #fanfiction meta #i’m curious what other people think about this #tempted to tag the fandoms i mentioned for reach but. dont know. we’ll see how this does

[epigstolary]

Sedentary

You didn’t set out to eat yourself to immobility. And even now, you’re not sure you’re technically immobile. But mobility is a relative thing, and compared to the average fatty, you’d probably qualify. Let’s just say you never tried very hard to preserve what mobility you started with.

Which wasn’t much, if we’re honest. Even when you were still able to do ordinary activities like walking, shopping, hiking, or fitting into a car, you still avoided going outside as much as possible. I used to watch you laboring under your oversized belly, trying to maintain a normal walk even as its pendulous wobble threw off your balance, and the bulk of your thick thighs rubbing together turned your gait into a graceless, plodding step.

If you had your choice, though, the couch was about as far as you wanted to venture on any given day; and even then, it would have been rare for you to do so unless you could find something entertaining on the tv and make sure a couple of snacks and a large soda were within reach. Once you were planted there, you didn’t want to move; and anything you might want was referred to me to bring, since you didn’t want to leave your comfy position for it. I, of course, was more than happy to oblige, bringing you all manner of fatty and sugary snacks to keep you satisfied while you relaxed, and letting you shovel plate after plate of food into your stationary gut. That kind of treatment left your dimple in the couch getting wider and deeper on a pretty consistent basis, a testament to your growing waistline and burgeoning behind.

The changes in your movement and stamina were painfully obvious on those rare occasions when you had to leave the house for something — some event, or friendly get-together that you couldn’t get out of. You’d be huffing and puffing almost as soon as you’d made it out the front door, your thickened thighs and ass and belly fighting to escape from whatever undersized outfit you’d crammed them into. You’d have to labor down the walk — weight sloshing from one side to the other, flabby arms swinging to try and stay balanced, cellulite jiggling with each heavy, barely-controlled step. By the time you got to the car, you’d have to sit and take a minute to catch your breath before you could even attempt to squeeze yourself all the way inside. That got to be a workout on its own, too.

To your credit, you tried to keep yourself moving. Those attempts never went as far as cutting back on all the junk you were guzzling down, of course. But you’d make a gesture toward fitness by attempting a walk up and down the street every so often, your workout clothes looking more cartoonishly stretched over your bloated, expanding form with each passage of the couple of weeks between outings. I always encouraged you to go for one of your pitifully short walks because I loved to watch them — loved to see the skinnier you inside that blubbery body having to try and push hundreds of pounds of fat out of the way just to move around. Arms and legs wrapped in layers of fat so heavy that just lifting them to move required considerable effort. Jiggling side rolls big enough to get in the way of your swinging arms, leaving you making an uncanny rotating movement to try and keep your balance. A belly and fatpad so full and low and heavy that your thighs had to push them up and out of the way before you could take a step forward. And two massive globes atop the backs of your thighs, alternately rising and falling with each step, each weighty enough to throw you off your stride, together making it impossible for your piggish body to keep up any kind of consistent pace. It’s no wonder you ended every walk completely exhausted and ready to rest up and gorge yourself for days afterward.

It stood to reason that this ridiculous pretense couldn’t last — the idea that you could keep packing on weight indefinitely as long as you could prove you were still able to “exercise” with a greater or lesser amount of success. Once you weren’t able to make it past the neighbor’s house without your face turning scarlet — without being so lightheaded you couldn’t see anything but stars, and so winded you could barely breathe — you had to acknowledge that you’d eaten yourself too fat to go out any longer. You wouldn’t be waddling any further than the end of the driveway from then on.

But even that realization wasn’t enough to get you to put the fork down once in a while. If anything, I think it took away what little pressure there was to avoid completely losing yourself in gluttony. With nowhere to go, there was no reason to try to still be able to go anywhere. And so, even your trips to the couch became irregular and increasingly infrequent. You could just as easily surround yourself with food and keep yourself entertained in bed, and less and less of your time was spent out of it.

The results were, needless to say, pretty striking. What little shape you’d managed to maintain over the years disappeared almost immediately, your overinflated but still recognizable arms and legs spreading and deforming into shapeless puddles of lard pooling around your body. It rapidly became a chore just to move them, even as your belly grew past your knees and well out of reach, and began to bury your body under a ballooning mound of flab. When you did muster the effort to swing your lard-covered legs around and haul that enormous belly into a sitting position, you still had your thick and growing ass spreading out behind you, anchoring you to the mattress. It was no wonder you resisted having to carry all that enormous weight, draped all over your body and jiggling with every lumbering step, anywhere else.

That was when the specter of immobility started to haunt you. You were gaining weight, sure; pounds of ponderous blubber every day. But the desire for ease left your muscles weakening at the same time. It just kept getting harder and harder to heave yourself up, and each time you found more of yourself to have to heave. Eventually, imperceptibly, you just stopped trying. There was never a day when you Became Immobile, no triumphant arrival at that adipose apex. The intervals between getting up just became gradually longer as your fat continued to swell and grow heavier. You adapted more and more of your tasks to a laying position in bed, satisfying yourself with the effort to roll over or reposition your impractical girth. At this point, I can’t remember the last time you got up, or even tried. Months? Months, at least.

And now, even the little movement you’ve come to rely on is getting harder to do. Your flabby arms, fat rolls threatening to overwhelm your wrists, quiver under the strain each time you have to reach for the tv remote or another calorie-saturated snack. Your legs burn like a normal person’s after an hour of CrossFit just from trying to throw their lumpy, inhuman bulk across the bed to roll over on your stomach. It takes active effort for you to breathe even when you’re sitting still, your lungs needing the extra muscle to push up against the crushing of all the lard collected in your tits and belly. It’s not surprising, then, that any attempts at movement leave you flushed, sweaty, winded, and looking like you might have a heart attack any second now. Far better for me to get you moving by grabbing a roll and pushing in the general direction you want to go.

So does that make you immobile? Sort of. But who knows — maybe if you had to, or really wanted to, you could still jiggle your way to the edge of the bed, heave yourself upright, and roll the corpulent pile of lard your body has become onto your two legs without them breaking under the strain. Maybe you could even manage a few steps without passing out. Still mobility of a kind, right?

But you’d never try it. You’re far too comfortable sitting on your beanbag-chair ass and seeing how much food you can put away before your next official meal. And if that’s the case — if you’re not going anywhere anyway, and are never going to change anything to stop your slide further into hyper-morbid obesity… does it really make a difference whether you’re technically mobile?

Just keep eating like you’re still trying to get there.

#feeder fiction #gainerfiction #gaining #ssbhm #weight gain fiction #wg fiction #extreme weight gain #weight gain story #wg story #gainer stories

[cerise-on-top]

Hi! Love your writing sm, hope you're having a good day! 💗

How about an older veteran reader with Rudy, Price, Soap, and Alejandro? Just sharing war stories and offering a place for them to stay if they ever need it, a sprinkle of elderly advice here and there

Hello! Thank you, that's very kind of you! My day was somewhat rough, but at the very least I got to go home early!

Price, Soap, Alejandro and Rodolfo with an Older Veteran!Reader

Price: He’s talked to plenty of people, a few among them were war veterans as well. Price has great respect for those kinds of people. After all, you’d been in the same business as he is for a while and saw all the horrors, so it’s not particularly hard for him to relate to the things you say. He’s not as open to talking about his experiences during daytime, but if you catch him during the evening alone when he’s had a drink or two, then he’s far more willing to open up. Doesn’t matter what war you’ve fought in, some things stay the same. He’s a captain, so naturally he’s stressed out about a lot of things, such as every member of his Task Force dying while he can’t do anything but watch. He doesn’t like to show such, preferring to keep his cool, but it does occupy his mind every once in a while, regardless of how capable his boys are. Price isn’t immune to the night time melancholy, so he might confide in you. Tell him a few stories of your own, he’ll retaliate with some of the things he’s seen. Nothing confidential, naturally, but the awful horrors he’s encountered. How he’s seen his own comrades be tortured in front of him. How they were killed like bugs, as if they didn’t have a life of their own. You set the tone, really. Tell him a hopeful story and he’ll tell you one of his own. Tell him a funny story, you’ll hear about Soap’s and Ghost’s midnight shenanigans. You’re more than welcome to tell him about the old times, while you were training, he remembers those fondly and will smile while looking into his tequila. If you offer him a place to stay, he’ll be a bit torn: You seem nice enough, but does he really wanna put you in potential danger like that? You know best what comes with his profession. If there’s really no other way out, if he really is being hunted by the world and doesn’t have a place to stay, then he’ll come to you, but otherwise he’ll try to keep you safe as well. However, he has an open ear for any and all advice you could give him. He’s in his mid to late thirties, so while he has seen a few things here and there he still has much to learn. Price is someone who can appreciate some advice from someone who knows what they’re doing.

Soap: Ever since his cousin had shown him the SAS base he’s wanted to join the military, actively asking his relatives if they knew any veterans who could tell him some cool stories. There were a few, but no amount of stories told could ever satisfy him. Even now that he’s one of, if not the youngest to have passed the SAS selection, he’s still stoked to be part of it all. One day, he wants to be able to tell stories of his own. Once he figures out that you’re a veteran he’ll gravitate towards you and ask you all sorts of questions. Unlike Price, he’s more than willing to exchange stories at any point in time, you don’t need to get him tipsy and melancholic for that. If he can tell you’re okay with it, he’ll even start talking about how his training went, what he had to do in order to become a sergeant. Soap loves talking about himself in that regard, he’s very proud of what he has accomplished, but will stay quiet for some moments so you can tell him about your own career as well. He’s all ears as soon as you start talking, soaking up every word you say like a sponge. If one of your stories reminds him of something that has happened to him he’ll butt in a bit and tell a short anecdote, but other than that he’s quiet. You can tell him anything and he’ll be happy to listen. While he can be a bit of a rascal from time to time, he does take your advice to heart and listens to it. His memory is pretty good so he’ll likely remember what you said for a long time as well, especially in the right moments. Despite him being in his mid twenties, he’ll also give you some advice. Soap just really wants to seem like a cool person in your eyes. Depending on what side you fought, you might even become a hero of sorts to him. Either way, he’s all too chipper to be spending time with you. If you offer him a place to stay then you can be certain he’ll take you up on your offer. He thinks you’re the coolest person out there, so sometimes he might just ask you if he could stay with you for a night just so he could talk with you over some drinks. So, it really doesn’t need to be an emergency for him to come knocking on your door. However, he’s more willing to stay with you during an emergency than Price, fully aware that you could likely defend yourself anyway if it came down to it.

Alejandro: Out of all the people on this list, he’s the oldest one, not counting you, of course, so he has quite some experience himself. He’s a colonel, he leads people on the daily, needs to make sure everything goes well and all. He knows what he’s doing. However, he’s also a pretty social guy, so he wouldn’t hesitate to chat with you for a bit, regardless of how busy he might be. If it’s clear you’ll be talking to each other for a longer time, then he might invite you to a bar or cafe for a drink or two. Alejandro is always more than happy to hear from fellow soldiers, regardless of whether they’re on duty, or not. You’re always more than welcome to seek him out for a chat or two, he’s a good man. Tell him stories of yours first, he, too, is more than happy to tell you some of his own. He has plenty to tell himself, having been a soldier for most of his lif. Although he’d prefer to start off easy with a funny anecdote or two before diving into something rougher. Being in the military can be wild, after all. Not all of it is bad, even if a good portion of it ends up being heartbreaking. Although he won’t confide in you immediately upon meeting you for the first time, he’ll open up some more if you seek each other out from time to time. Eventually he’ll tell you about his regrets as well as the things he loves. Not as melancholic as Price, but there’s still some sadness in his tone as he speaks. If you give him some advice he’ll laugh a bit. Yes, he knows you’re older than him by quite a bit, but he’s not really the youngest anymore either, so he has some advice up his sleeve himself. Doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate it, though. Just for retaliation purposes, he’ll crack a joke about your age, but it’s not ill intentioned. You can offer him a place to stay, but he won’t take you up on it during an emergency. He’s a highly sought after man, with El Sin Nombre being out for his head as well whenever she can, Alejandro knows that things won’t end well for you if he spends too much time with you when things are bleak, but he’s more than happy to come visit you when he has time, chat with you over a drink or two. Depending on how far away you live, he might stay with you for a night or two, though. He does like getting to spend time with you.

Rodolfo: While he may not actively seek out elders just to chat with them about what he sees on the daily, he doesn’t mind hearing about it either. If a good conversation starts, then he can convince himself to stay for a bit longer just to listen to you talk about your time in the military. Rodolfo doesn’t love being in the military as much as Soap or Alejandro do. Don’t get me wrong, he still likes his profession, but the spark that used to be there when he first started has since dimmed quite a bit. While you likely can’t reignite that spark, you can give him some respite. A break would do him good. He may try to not think about work too much when he can, but if you start talking about the good old times, then he’ll grow a bit sentimental and tell you about how he first started and what it was like back then. Rodolfo has always liked Alejandro, even looked up to him a bit since he was sort of just unkillable, no matter what happened. And yes, when he starts talking about this he loses track of time and himself and will simply ramble on and on about what it used be like. Don’t worry, though, you’ll get your turn to speak once he realizes just how much he’d been talking. Apologizes about this afterwards. That would be a good time to tell him about your own training back then. The good, the bad and the ugly. It’s not often that someone gets to see it, but if you reminisce together, you might even get to see a somber smile from the guy as well. Once he’s mellowed out a bit like that, you can give him just about any advice and he’ll listen. If it’s something silly, he might chuckle a bit, but will take it to heart. Who is he to deny an elderly person their right to give him some advice? You know what you’re talking about, after all. Always more than happy to be given such, he likes knowing what he has to do in the right situations. It’s not always easy, after all. Offer him a place to stay and he’ll actually take you up on it. Whether he needs some more advice or just wants a good chat, you’ll see him come up to your home every once in a while, always with a gift such as an expensive bottle of wine. If he’s in an especially precarious situation and nearby, he’ll actually come to you, knowing that he’ll be in good hands. Please take good care of him, Rodolfo could always, and I mean always, use someone like you.

#cod #cod x reader #john price x reader #john price #price x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #I got bullied at work again today I swear teenagers are so very immature #it's not like I even did something to them in the first place. I'm just different from the rest and that warrants bullying it seems #wish I had someone who could give me some proper advice on how to deal with bullies but alas #luckily I'm back in my regular work place again tomorrow so things will be better then

[capriciouscapsss]

What Disney Couple Do You and Your F/S Resemble? ☁︎

BOOK A READING WITH ME 💞

today we're doing a section of my disney storyline pac reading!! it's a short vers. but ugh it absolutely warms my heart. if you guys want the full reading feel free to book a reading since i do offer this one completely catered to you and only you (along with being able to get ANY disney storyline I'm sobbing 😭😭); with that being said........LETS GET STARTED 💞💞

we have four piles; intuitively choose what pile you're most drawn to.

now let's go ahead and start ♡

pile i. pink yummy dessert

[j&a, KoW, the lovers, the world, 3oW, 8oS, D.W, B.]

my pretty pile ones you all got Aladdin as your disney couple ♡ when watching the movie everything feels and look intense, like you're in there and not watching it through a screen. the romance between you and your f/s feels real. ever lie to yourself about how strong a connection was? like "omg he and I are soulmates I know it" type of stuff? yeah with this person you don't know it, you feel it. it feels real. Aladdin plays on illusion a lot, Aladdin himself lies to Jasmine about his status to make her give him a chance, but if there's one thing that was never faked it was the connection. the love between Aladdin and Jasmine. you two are the same, this connection can't be faked it's the real deal. elements of the couple that could mix into you and your f/s could be your f/s pursuing you with the same determination that Aladdin did with Jasmine. seeing you from afar and having to have you. meeting you, not even knowing your name but wanting it all. the world could also work in funny ways in your story like it did in Aladdin. meeting by fate. the universe working with your f/s to get them what they want. you two are going to meet and want to share view points and share your stories of how you collectively got to that point in your life. their going to want to show you what they know, all they know, and you're going to accept with open arms.

also make sure that if you got nothing else from this reading you get this at least; you two are very different. like from completely different worlds. this could point to cultural differences, economic differences ect. but bottomline is you two are on unequal footing in some way.

pile ii. girl walking along the water

[h&m, the devil, 5oW, 5oC, m.o.c, p.t.t.r.u.a, l.i.h.j)

why is that my sad pile always have a hot f/s? stop it fr 😭 my dear pile two, you and your f/s most resemble Hercules and Megan!! not only does this tell me that your f/s is a certified hot dreamy masterpiece BUT I can also see that you and your spouse are definitely into each other sexually a lot more than my other piles. your f/s is a sucker for the sad people of the world ngl they just want to fix and help everyone. pile 2, something important in about you and your f/s would be that you, like Megan, will be going through a hard time when you meet. something toxic will be reigning over your life (this could be a friend, relative, partner ect) and this person will see that.they're obvs, in true Hercules fashion, going to want to even protect you from it at times if need be. if any of you have ever seen this movie you'd know that Megan betrays Hercules and honestly I'm kinda seeing it here as well. the conflict of the story seems to be the same. someone feeling betrayed. "you said you were with me" type of vibe. you don't like that they help everyone. in fact it might even be that you never wanted or asked for their help! it irks you at first. and this is going to sound so bad but you might want to get to know them at first only for their looks 😭 or because you have something to gain from it. with time though, even though people DO NOT want you together, you will come to fall in love with their sensitivity and their good nature. not everyone has an angle, or is mean, and not everyone is the same, and you will come to realize this with your person. cute ♡

pile iii. hand in neon pink water

[t&n, KNoP, 2oC, QoC, the fool, i.h.u.w.i.l.u, i.p.u.f, r.]

pile 3 how lucky u are 😭 in this pile we got Tiana and Naveen as your disney counterpart!! not only can we infer then that your f/s is as easy going as prince naveen but we also got the royalty oracle card which means that they're royalty that they're certainly as influential as he is. dear pile 3 you know what love is. you've seen it, you've heard about it, you've read about it. you know HOW to love. patient, loving, kind, that is you. you've begun to live in your divine feminine energy. you have no time for others! you focus on yourself, love yourself, put yourself first. your f/s is a fool - wait no sorry the fool as in metaphorically they take after these traits strongly. they're eager to try new things, they keep their mind open to opportunities and always looks for LIFE. they're alive, they want to make sure other people take advantage of it (their words not mine 😭) lmao they're a bit full of themselves. the candle of everyone's eye etc. honestly you might not even know if you love them or are annoyed by them half them time. or so you tell yourself. true love lies tried and true here. this love is gradual and it takes time and effort but once you tw begin to explore each other's personalities we see love that is hard to undo. you don't come back from this. two people become one. they chase one goal. they chase a future. they promise you forever. you know you love them because you couldn't imagine it differently. true true love.

pile iv. girl brushing her hair

[c&p, the lovers, 4oW, 2oW, KoW, F., u.l. r (b), f.l (g)]

LISTEN!! this is my mushy lovey dovey pile 😭 the cards we got?? fantastic?? the oracle cards?? amazing. the pairing?? in my top 3. DO I NEED TO SAY MORE?? pile four, you all got cinderella and prince charming as the couple you two resemble. and before you throw a shoe at me let me just say that 1. I love the first cinderella movie and 2. that being said I will always pick the third one over the first one. and so that's the one I'll be focusing on for now :) because we all know that both of them weren't all there in the first movie 😵‍💫 now to start off with your f/s and yourself. if there's a pinnacle of love in this world you two have reached it with your connection. this is TRUE LOVE. like ultimate love. the world has blessed you pile four. marriage, no - union is inevitable here. you two are from very different worlds. if there are levels to this you two could be on opposite sides. but that's just what makes it all the more crazy when you meet. how, you might ask yourself later when everything happens, did I meet this person when our lives are completely different?? but the answer would simply then be that it was meant to be. how did cinderella always find her prince? fate. destiny. how did they just know with a simple touch that they were the "one" for each other? fate. destiny. it ties in for you and your f/s just as much as it did for them. pile four you might think at first that this isn't meant to be, that this is unrequited, that you and your person could never function together and be ONE but time will tell you eventually that you got it all wrong. you might even reject them at first too 😭 remember cinderella running from the prince when the clock struck 12? yeah, she was fleeing because of time but you're going to be fleeing because you're scared. scared of the connection. this might be the first time you really fall in love pile four. let them in when they come knocking on your door. as the old saying goes "if the shoe fits, wear it." sending you love.

was a little sleepy so hope this post makes sense 😭 but yeah, that was all for today 💞 I hope you have an amazing day and hope maybe a tad little more that it resonated. blessings xx

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #pac tarot #pac reading #intuitive readings #intuition #astro notes

[ohnomytummy]

Hi, I have a story from this Thanksgiving that I thought this community would like, and I don't have a kink blog to post it to so I'm gonna share it here cause I know your box is always open. Lol

I'm relatively thin, severely underweight for a good chunk of my childhood, have always been poor so I've never gotten to indulge too much in feasting, not in this economy. But long backstory short, I had the house to myself for pretty much 4 days straight for Thanksgiving break, along with all the leftover food from the entire family thanksgiving.. I was asked to toss most of it because we didn't have room in the fridge and it would go bad, but I didn't want any of it to go to waste.. you can probably tell where his is going..

I have a pretty sensitive stomach since I get full pretty quick, and I'm also lactose intolerant and most meat makes me gassy (and sweaty for some reason?), but for some reason none of that mattered to me, I put a YouTube series I've been itching to watch on my phone and munched on everything that was in front of me which included:

-almost half of a turkey that had been sitting out on the table for a day

-a platter of cheese and cube/slice things and pepperoni/some other meat I forgot

-I wanna say maybe 20 small sugar cookies (the puffy Walmart ones with frosting)

-about 2 litres total of a miz of lemonade, sprite, ginger ale, and coca cola

- 5 bread rolls with melted cheese and butter

-uncounted handfuls old candy I still had from Halloween....

I didn't even realize I'd been eating so much, but I guess since it was all over the course of about a day (9 hours-ish?) It was gradual enough that I didn't realize I'd gone overboard until the end. I remember reaching for the next thing getting ready and thinking "wow i wonder how much ive eaten" and seeing that the answer was all of it. I was wearing an elastic tank top, and I looked down and holy shit I looked pregnant. The tank top is kind of long but there was maybe an inch of belly sticking out from underneath naturally, and the tank top itself was like vacuum sealed tight to my skin!

This is where stuff gets crazy. I put my hand on my stomach to rub it and I could feel it churning under my hand, from the inside ofc and through my belly. I'd been burping throughout the whole stuffing absent-mindedly, but now that it was all setting in, I felt like I was going to puke. I couldn't even feel nauseous at first, it was just PAIN in my middle and I could barely get up. I'm so glad I was alone because I was moaning and rubbing my belly with both hands, holding it as I tried to get up. I could feel myself bringing up burps with every exhale, they were like.. soft and quiet but also really deep and sick, coming out with every breath, like "... urrrrrrp.. hic-hurrrrrp... uurppp. ur-urrp... hic-hUuuurrrrrrrrrp..." and with groans after each one lmao. I made my way to the bathroom eventually and sat by the toilet, sure I was gonna be sick, but I wasn't. I almost wanted to be, but I think I was just too scared to puke. So I sat back against the tub, facing the toilet, my whole body was covered in a cold sweat atp and i was rubbing my belly, and I could feel every single rumble as it ripped through my stomach and rose up as a belch. I couldn't stop burping like I was just about crying on the bathroom floor, bloated as a tick, belching helplessly. After a few minutes the burps started slowing down, but they were much more wet when they did come up. I think the meat and lactose was probably digesting now because I actually started to feel queasy. I started holding in my burps in fear that the food might come up, but then the air started xoming out the back. Starting with small short toots, leading to nauseous farts that, much like the burps, WOULDNT STOP. I was uncontrollably farting, small short bursts every few seconds and idk how to describe it but the farts felt pukey somehow. My stomach was churning like crazy and I could hear it from the outside (still felt intense as I rubbed it too). All the while the original belches never really stopped, so I was just on the floor, gas from both ends pouring out. My stomach was so hard and tight it felt like a bowling ball attached to me and my shirt was so tight it was so hot in hindsight but I felt like I was dying in the moment. Anyways I eventually fell asleep on the floor, woke up feeling sick, burped and farted next to the toilet again and tried doing the doggy-style yoga pose (best that I could, anyways, with my bloated upset tummy still filled with rotting undigested Thanksgiving leftovers) and kept farting until out of nowhere I almost shat myself, I think the position I was in moved the air along but the air took some stuff with it, so now I had to abandon that and sit on the toilet with a trash bin next to me because I couldn't fit it between my legs (my tummy took up the room lol) and it was mostly just me being sick from both ends, along with super uncontrollable rumbly burps and farts that just would not ever fucking stop.

Once it was all out things went back to normal, other than me being really gassy for a few more days.

I will let my uh *cough* community have this 😳🥵

#thanksgiving #ask #wowowowowowoeow #your poor poor belly #but also not….whoopsie

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Finally finished the outline of Daughter of the Rain and Snow and I know exactly how the ending is going down almost pretty much (details are blurry, but plot and character arcs are completely outlined and ready to write instead of just bullet points or vague ideas) so out of interest (won’t necessarily stick to it 100% but would still like to know) what would anyone like to see next if you would like to continue reading my stuff?

Explanations below cut

Sequel

I have every intention to write this one, I have characters but thus far not a main plot more of just the premise. Would follow Ahra, Evan, Yara, maybe Vix, and maybe Lilia as our young Dregs and start around when Kaz and Inej left for Ravka since the Dregs was kinda on the verge of collapse whoops. Can’t go into too much detail or they’ll be spoilers for the current fic but there’d be the opportunity for some Aimee and Kiada, and Kanej would still be present but they might not be in focus (again, can’t explain too much or they’ll be spoilers). There might even be some Fiona or some Maya stuff who knows

I really want to write this bc I really want to write Ahra’s story so it’ll probably end up coming around at some point but I realise it might not be the most interesting to y’all when it’s mostly ocs so yeah

Feliks had been more than lenient with Ahra. He’d been the only person who ever gave her a real job - playing her violin in the reception of the White Rose - and when things had predictably gone haywire he’d been good enough to only turn her away, not Evan too. Ahra hadn’t much cared for the job, she loved her violin but she did not enjoy watching the Rose’s clients come and go and she certainly hadn’t cared for having her skin paled and her hair Tailored white for such purposes, but it was easy money and enough to keep them ticking over as all of Evan’s funds petered away on overpriced little medicine bottles. She studied the thin stack of kruge in her hand, thinking of Kaz standing opposite her in the alley by the Slat.

“I don’t need your charity, Brekker,”

“And far be it from me to offer you any,”

Not charity, but she didn’t doubt Dirtyhands had his own purposes in paying her for a job she failed to finish. Still, cash was cash. And medicine was medicine. She tucked it back into her breast pocket and tapped it lightly, slipping round the corner and pulling a bone light from her jacket.

What Evan didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Helnik

This was an idea I had a looooong time ago and I shared a little snippet scene on here, but then I started writing Daughter of the Rain and Snow and never looked back. I really want to write this one I think it could be pretty cool, it would be relatively short set in between Crooked Kingdom and King of Scars and take place in Ravka; based on a headcanon I have about Nina learning how to use her new power and as a result of it experiencing hallucinations of Matthias being with her that she is fully convinced are real. Following Nina, Zoya, and Genya as they try to navigate this and worry that they shouldn’t let Nina got to Fjerda in this state.

“What time is it?” she mumbled into the cushions.

“A little after seven bells,”

“Saints, how disgusting,”

Nina sighed, in a mixture of content and tiredness. The luxury of the Little Palace was a mostly welcome change from crawling in next to Matthias in the tomb at Black Veil - or even of the hotel room at the Geldrenner. They’d shared a sofa, so close to each other; limbs entangled, chest against her back so she could feel his heart beating. A steady rhythm, no matter what he was feeling. The big bed here was more comfortable, but the closeness felt like an aching absence, as though the few feet between them spanned for miles. She reached out behind her and found something soft that she decided was his arm.

“Come closer,” she whispered, and she imagined the way he’d smile.

He would press her fingers to his lips and she would roll over to face him. She’d reach out and touch his cheek, and he would catch her hands in his.

“Witch,”

“Barbarian,”

“Little Red Bird,” he would say, just before his lips met hers

The sunlight would be warm and soft on their skin as they moved closer, as she felt his heart beating beneath her fingers.

But he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t come closer, or kissed her fingers, or brushed his lips against hers. He had not gently pushed her hand down towards his wrist so their fingers could intertwine.

“Matthias?”

Nina made the mistake of rolling over, and began to scream.

Wesper

There’s a line in Crooked Kingdom where Jesper says if Van Eck really couldn’t cope with Wylan not being able to read he could have told people he was blind, the point being that still would’ve been wrong but that everything he’d resorted to was unnecessary and Wylan shouldn’t feel like it was his fault. So this would be an au where Van Eck did exactly that and Wesper attend Ketterdam university together; Wylan grapples with his father being the worst and falling for Jesper as he fears telling him the truth, Jesper grapples with addiction and wanting to stay at university partly for the sake of falling for Wylan.

Jesper leaned in, pushing one of Wylan’s curls back off his face.

“It’s pity you can’t see how beautiful your eyes are,”

Wylan blushed, letting Jesper run his hand over his cheek and tilt his face up towards his own. Jesper leaned forward but then Wylan squirmed, just slightly, and Jesper tensed as he pulled his hand away.

“And me, of course,” he added, letting his voice take on a teasing lilt to brush past the moment, “It’s a shame you don’t know how gorgeous I am,”

Wylan almost smiled, but he had stepped away.

“I- erm,” he brushed his fingers through the lock of hair Jesper had moved and cleared his throat, “Excuse me,”

And then he was gone.

#six of crows #grishaverse #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #kanej #Wesper #helnik #soc fics #Soc fic #six of crows fic #six of crows fandom #six of crows fanfic #grishaverse fandom #grishaverse fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

[mrwavellswaps]

A Life He Never Had - Part 2 (Father’s POV)

➡️ Son’s POV ⬅️

Oh god I can’t help but moan, these nipple are so damn sensitive. I know he can hear me as well with my door wide open. It might be a little cruel of me to keep teasing him like this but I just can’t help myself. You know I originally had my doubts but fuck am I glad I decided to steal my Son’s body!

When I’d first bought that switching potion I honestly wasn’t sure if it’d work or not. I would’ve tested it first but apparently it was only good for one use. However I was so fucking desperate to have another chance at the life I never got that I decided to throw all my chips in and risk it.

Next thing you know I’m drugging my own Son after having our weekly meal together and lugging his barely conscious body up to my bedroom. I don’t think think he was fully out but it didn’t make a difference in the end. I was able to get him to drink some of the potion before downing the rest myself. After that I laid down next to him and prayed this stuff was legit.

I wasn’t sure exactly what I was expecting to be honest. One second I was awake and the next I was out cold with my soul being forced out of my body. I could see my old body lying unconscious on the bed next to my Son while his soul was floating next to mine. Only, unlike me, his soul seemed dormant. I knew what I had to do. I used my ghostly hands to grab my Son’s soul before stuffing it inside my 51 year old body and watching as it sealed itself inside forever. Once that was done I turned my attention back to his young sleeping body. With a lick of my lips I dove down with a hunger for the youth that body was about to grant me.

Waking up that next morning had to have been the greatest moment of my life. The second I returned to consciousness my eyes shot wide open, eager to inspect my new form. Looking down I certainly wasn’t disappointed. I was so lean, muscular and hairless that it seemed unreal. And when I looked to the side to see none other than my fat old body, that’s when I knew this for real.

The first thing I did was throw off my Son’s clothes and get a good look at his, or should I say my, naked body and I have to say I was more than impressed with what I saw. Not only did he have some very well sculpted muscle from years of hard work but he had a cock on him like a horse! It had to be at least twice the size of my old one so there’s no way he got it from me. Same with this ass! I remember turning in the mirror and being genuinely shocked at how well shaped my Son’s big bubble ass was compared to my relatively flat one. Whatever the case they belonged to me now and I was gonna use them however I goddamn pleased.

Truth be told I’d actually done a little preparation before hand in the hopes that the swap would be a success. I’d done a little shopping for my new body in the form of some fun new clothes to try on. Mainly underwear. I grabbed them from my secret little stash and started trying them on one by one. Jock straps, speedos and just a bunch of saucy underwear. And let me tell you I looked fucking incredible. The way they all stretched over my ass and bulge was nothing short of breath taking. With a body like this I couldn’t have been more certain I’d be able to bag a guy to fuck my brains out.

I eventually decided to head downstairs and make myself a coffee, still wearing a kinky pair of white briefs at the time, when I heard a scream come from upstairs. I shook my head knowing that he’d finally woken up so I grabbed my cup and made my way back up to him. When I got there he nothing short of was hysterical. Especially when he saw me in these briefs. Yelling and screaming about what the hell was going on but I just couldn’t help smiling and teasing him. I think I even gave my ass a smack just to see what he would do. I thought he’d try to punch me honestly but he must’ve been in too much shock I suppose.

Ever since then my life has felt like a living a dream. One of the very first things I did was break up with my son’s girlfriend. I might have his body but I still don’t care much for chicks at all. Dick is all I wanted. All I needed. And I was now more certain than ever that I was gonna get it.

Almost as soon as I could I was heading out to all sorts of gay clubs and signing up to hook-up apps and let me tell you it wasn’t long before I had stud after stud in my bed. Guys I would never have had a chance with before now drooling over me as much as I was over them. It was a little… painful at first I’ve gotta say. Considering my Son was straight before I took his body it only made sense that his hole was as tight as could be but I was working on loosening it up. With every fat cock I took up there it got easier and easier. Some might consider me a man whore now but can you really blame an old man for wanting to catch up on all that he missed out on.

Originally when I’d first gotten this body I was partly considering keeping up my Son’s ritual of shaving his body and facial hair to stay smooth. After all I’d been so hairy for so long that it was kinda nice to be so smooth for once. But after quite a few of the guys that fucked me suggested growing out some fur again I decided to do just that. I prefer a more masculine look anyway. And so over the coming month I simply let my body grow its natural hair again and allowed a short beard to form which I’ve gotta say seems to have gained me some extra attention.

I’ve gotta say though I’ve really enjoyed teasing my Son since the swap. Does that make me a bad person? Probably. Am I gonna keep doing it? Absolutely! It’s just too much fun to walk around the house with barely any clothes on just so I can not only flaunt what he used to have but also show him how much of a slut I’d made his body now. I made sure to reinforce that even further whenever I brought a guy home by moaning as loud as possible to make sure he heard. Just to make sure he knew I was getting his former straight guy hole filled to brim with cum. And just for good measure I made sure to tell him all about it afterwards.

You know before all this I thought I was a total bottom. That is until I slept with a much more versatile dude. He was a pretty big bear of a man and made sure to fuck me good first. But after he’d pumped his load inside me, he started to compliment me a lot on the size of my cock. I was flattered of course but when he asked if I’d ever used it I said I hadn’t ever really considered topping before. Well wouldn’t you know it the next minute he’s bent over and displaying his furry ass for me. I was a little apprehensive at first but once I shoved myself inside and started pumping, I gotta say it wasn’t bad. I’ll probably still bottom most of the time but maybe topping here and there could be fun after all with my Son’s huge fat cock under my control.

Speaking of cock this thing just doesn’t stop! For over ten years I’d been struggling to get my old dick fully hard but this one does it all the time! Even just the slightest glance at a hot guy, especially when there was nobody else around, and boom! Massive erection! It’s fucking amazing! I’m jerking off all the time and squirting my young new seed on everything I own when I’m not just having straight up sex. I forgot how endless the sex drive is for guys in their early twenties… though I’m certain I was never this horny when I was originally this age.

And that brings me back to present, sat in my new bedroom tweaking my nipples and groaning as loudly as possible. My young cock beginning to strain against this new jockstrap I bought myself. You should see the way it frames my ass. I’m sure the guy that I’m having over tonight will appreciate it.

Speaking of, I’ve had this guy around a few times now and honestly I’m really starting to like him. Maybe after he’s filled my ass again I’ll ask him out for dinner. Wouldn’t that be something. My first ever date with a man. I hope he says yes!

Until then I’ll just keep enjoying my new body and all it has to offer while shoving it in the face of its former owner. I couldn’t be more happy that this swap is irreversible…

#magic #male body swap #male body theft #permanent #identity theft #father and son #jock #dad #hairy #straight to gay

[erin-bo-berin]

I can't get enough of your Steve fics! guh. they are so sweet!

I was wondering if you might write something short like 4 times Steve accused reader of having pregnancy cravings and the 1 time reader actually (begrudgingly) admits it.

if that's not up your alley then just ignore me! :)

Can you imagine how crazy Steve would go to make sure you fulfilled every craving? Word, what a sweetheart.

Cravings

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy (in case it isn’t your thing)

✨

Pickles

Your boyfriend watched you with amusement as you greedily grabbed the circular, green items off the underside of his offered burger bun.

“Y/N,” Steve chuckled, “You’re having cravings already?”

Your gaze was hard enough to shoot daggers at him, though there was no real menace behind the gaze. You just refused to believe you were having pregnancy cravings as early as 14 weeks.

Of course, you knew every pregnancy was different, so you’d been surprised when you’d had a relatively easy first trimester. There’d been little to no morning sickness and the only time you’d been nauseated was if you waited too long to eat. But then about a week ago, it was like a switch had flipped inside you and when you got hungry, you were ravenous.

Some foods just sounded extremely good to you, that’s all. At least, that’s what you’d figured since at this point in your pregnancy, you felt like you stayed hungry.

“I’m not having cravings, Steve. The baby is just really hungry,” you shrugged, popping the pickles you’d taken off his burger into your mouth.

You knew he liked pickles just fine and the fact that he’d given them up so easily to you made you suspicious—although it made your stomach extremely happy.

“Uh huh,” he answered, disbelievingly, eyes falling to the tiny container of extra pickles you’d ordered with your own burger.

“They never put enough pickles on their cheeseburgers,” you answered defiantly, taking another bite.

“Whatever you say, babe,” he grinned.

Watermelon

“Oh I need this!”

You managed to lug over an entire watermelon to the shopping cart that held yours and Steve’s groceries—much to his horror.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he cried, grabbing the heavy melon from you the minute he noticed it in your arms.

“It’s a watermelon, not a car,” you replied dryly.

“Still. You’re not supposed to be lifting anything heavy. You’re carrying enough as is,” he chided, giving your belly a gentle rub before putting the watermelon in the cart.

“I’m only five months, I’m pretty sure it’s still safe for me to carry a small watermelon.”

“Small? Do you see the size of that thing?”

Steve motioned to the cart and you had to admit it was big, but ever since you’d heard Robin mention it the other day, you couldn’t stop thinking about watermelon.

“What are you going to do with that much watermelon anyways?” Steve asked, resuming pushing the cart, pretending it was too heavy to push now.

You rolled your eyes at his antics, though you smiled.

“Well gee, I thought I’d try sitting and staring at it. What do you think? I’m gonna eat it!”

You hit his arm in exasperation. The father of your child, everyone.

“Before you say it, I’m not having cravings! The baby wants it. It just sounded good when Robin mentioned it the other day,” you said.

He stared after you as you went down the first aisle, searching for the first item on your list—bread.

“Babe, you know that’s the definition of a craving, right?” he called after you.

You waved a hand dismissively, struggling to reach the top shelf—where of course the brand of bread you bought was at—with your new, protruding belly.

It was Steve’s turn now to sigh with exasperation at you as he turned the cart down the aisle, heading to help you.

Chocolate

“Did Y/N just pull a whole ass Hershey’s bar out of her purse?” Robin asked.

“Yes,” Steve sighed, watching you in amusement.

You unwrapped the chocolate bar, not even bothering to break off pieces, instead opting to put it directly in your mouth. You bit off a large chunk as you listened to your group of younger friends talk animatedly.

“I hope she plans on sharing because they’re not gonna leave her alone,” Robin said, motioning to the crew of six younger teens.

“Their funerals,” he muttered with a smile.

“What?”

Robin gave him a bemused glance.

“I learned the hard way, you don’t come between a pregnant woman and her food.”

“Is it some sort of pregnancy cravings?” she asked.

“Oh don’t let her hear you say that,” he chuckled, “She’s been adamant that she’s not been having cravings, she’s just been “enjoying her food”.”

Steve’s hands raised and performed air quotes around the last three words.

“So…cravings?”

“Most definitely,” Steve grinned.

Salads

Steve shouldn’t be surprised by anything you eat by now, but when he walked into the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks.

You were sitting at the island, book opened and reading while you ate a ginormous bowl of salad. That was the third one he’d seen you eat this week.

“How cute. Suddenly I’m dating a bunny,” he teased.

You looked up and stuck your tongue out at him.

“I was hungry,” she shrugged.

“So you decided to eat like a bunny since we fuck like them, huh?”

“Steve!” you almost choked on your last bite, wheezing.

He chuckled, grabbing a soda can from the fridge.

“I’m just saying,” he smirked.

“A salad just sounded good,” you protested.

“Y/N that’s the third huge one this week. If you’re having cravings, you should just tell me. That way I can buy the entire grocery store for you.”

His last sentence held a teasing lilt and the curve of his lips indicated it.

“Just because a salad sounds good doesn’t mean I’m having cravings,” you reminded him, pointing your fork in his direction.

He eyed the salad, shaking his head. Eventually, you’d realize it.

Milkshakes

“Steve. Steve,” you urged, waking him with a gentle shake of his arm.

“Wha?” he mumbled, sleepily, “Wha time is it?”

“Two in the morning.”

He was instantly uptight.

“Is something wrong with the baby?! Do I need to get you to the emergency room?!”

He was fully awake now, eyes wild and panicked.

“No, no. Nothing like that. I’m okay,” you assured him, “But uh I do kinda have an emergency.”

He had visibly relaxed when he heard that you and baby were okay. Now he was yawning and rubbing his eyes with a hand.

“What’s that, baby?” he asked through a second yawn.

You hated to do it to him—be the generic pregnant woman, but you literally felt like you couldn’t wait.

“I was wondering if we could go for ice cream,” you winced.

He blinked, stupefied. It was as if he wasn’t able to process what you just said.

“Sweetheart, it’s the middle of the night,” he pointed out gently.

“I know,” you groaned, “But I woke up dying for a milkshake. I didn’t want to send you out alone so I’d be happy to go with you. I’m sorry I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t—what’s so funny?”

His mystified expression was gone, replaced by entire body shaking laughter. Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Steve, what?” you asked, exasperated.

“So you’re craving milkshakes now, huh?” he chuckled, finally able to speak after a few minutes of laughter.

You sighed, resigned to the fact.

“I guess I am,” you mumbled.

His chuckle this time was much more softer and gentle, loving as well. He kissed your head, moving to get out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some pants and my car keys. I’m sure there’s a grocery store open somewhere that I can get the ingredients to make homemade milkshakes.”

Your mouth almost salivated at the thought. You pushed the covers off your legs and moved to get up. Steve reached over, stopping you.

“As much as I’d love for you to join me, you two should rest,” he smiled.

He kissed your lips, then bent down to kiss your bump.

“Take care of mommy while I’m gone, okay little one?” he murmured to your belly.

“But I feel bad sending you out in the middle of the night just because I’m craving something,” you frowned.

“Baby,” his tone was gentle as he stroked your cheek with his hand, “Don’t you get it?”

You cocked your head, brows pulled together in puzzlement.

“Regardless if you’re carrying my baby or not, I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, darling.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things blurb #stranger things fluff

[veliseraptor]

December Reading Recap

Burning Girls and Other Stories by Veronica Schanoes. As is typical with me and short story collections, I really liked some of the stories in this one and found myself less impressed with several of the others. I did really appreciate the explicit Jewishness of the collection as a whole, and I feel like I'm going to be watching this author to see what she does in the future. I think my favorite story was the titular one ("Burning Girls"); some of the others got a little abstract for me. I did also like what she did with "Emma Goldman Takes Tea with the Baba Yaga" - in general I think Schanoes's strength is in the interweaving of folklore and history, and that's what I enjoyed most in her stories.

Heaven Official's Blessing: vol. 8 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu. It's over!! by which I mean my, what, fourth reread of this book? This time in a new translation, so I guess that kind of makes it different (?). This was my first time reading a lot of the extras, specifically the amnesia one, which was both very good and rather upsetting. My only critique about it was that it could've been even more upsetting. No surprises here, of course (again, fourth reread) but it was a good reminder how much I love this one.

Children of Memory by Adrian Tchaikovsky. Adrian Tchaikovsky's imaginative worldbuilding and sheer creativity continues to blow me away. This is probably my least favorite of the three Children of Time books, corvids notwithstanding, but that's sort of like saying that The Hobbit is my least favorite Tolkien book. It's a ranking, but it's not actually a negative. And again, corvids, and what Tchaikovsky does with a society of corvids is as compelling as what he did with a society of octopuses, or spiders.

I think you have to have a certain amount of faith in Tchaikovsky for this one because, at least for me, I spent a lot of it not knowing what was going on and just trusting that it would make sense in the end, but by the time you get to this point in the series I feel like he's earned that faith.

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun: vol. 4 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou. I wonder if this is going to be the horniest single volume of this translation, because truly the arc it covers is one of the horniest arcs of the whole novel (at least, in my recollection). It's not my favorite section but it's a lot of fun, and Chu Wanning's desperation to be defiled alongside Mo Ran's desperation to be a good disciple is very entertaining. And meanwhile they're both incredibly horny for each other. I just happen to be here for the angst more than anything else, and there's less of the angst in this arc than there will be to come.

I genuinely wonder how they decide where to divide these volumes, by the by. It seems kind of random.

Die: vol. 4 by Kieron Gillen and Stephanie Hans. I liked the front half of this series better than the back half, and I felt like the conclusion was weaker than I would've expected from a usually incredibly strong storyteller. It continued to be breathtakingly beautiful throughout (thanks, Stephanie Hans!) but I felt like thematically and in terms of narrative it lagged a little toward the end compared to how it began.

The Odyssey trans. by Emily Wilson. I haven't read the Odyssey in many, many years (since my freshman year of college) and it was really fun to go back and reread it with fresh eyes and in fresh language. I don't have a whole lot of intelligent commentary to make, but I loved reading Wilson's introduction and translator's notes - definitely brought out new angles to me and made me alert to different things than I might have been otherwise. I was particularly a fan of the choice to translate in relatively plain language but in iambic pentameter. Also deeply impressed by the choice to translate in iambic pentameter, because boy does that seem like it'd be a challenge. Excited to read Wilson's translation of the Iliad when it comes out in paperback.

The Underworld: Journeys to the Depths of the Ocean by Susan Casey. I wanted this book to be a little more about the depths of the ocean and a little less about deep ocean exploration/the author's personal journey toward deep ocean exploration, but it was still an enjoyable read. I liked her other book (about rogue waves/surfing) more, despite the fact that this is a subject I find generally fascinating, but again, still pretty readable. Which I recognize is damning with faint praise but, like, if you're interested in the subject I wouldn't say you shouldn't check it out.

The chapter about deep sea mining was profoundly depressing, though. In an important-feeling kind of way.

Indigenous Continent: The Epic Contest for North America by Pekka Hamalainen. This book was such a good study on the way that teleological approaches to history can obscure/miss a lot of things, in terms of how it takes the common narrative of Native "loss" over the course of colonization and shows how in fact the story was a lot more complicated and uneven than that - that a lot of colonial "victories" were in fact rearguard actions, and for much of the 17th-19th centuries, despite colonial maps, North America remained a continent controlled by Native Americans. Really well done on the whole and I learned a hell of a lot. I'd generally recommend it for anyone looking for a solid broad-spectrum Indigenous history of North America.

At the same time sometimes the author was hammering so hard on his point that it started to annoy me. Annoying me isn't a crime, exactly, but sometimes when I feel like an author is straying into polemic I start to get suspicious of their scholarship - which I'm not, in this case, I actually trust that Hamaleinen did the work and the research, but it is something that comes up for me sometimes when I'm reading books that have a clear ideological motivation, even one I agree with.

The Carrow Haunt by Darcy Coates. After a couple big wins, my last couple Darcy Coates have been a little more disappointing. Still good, still satisfyingly spooky, but less stand-out "would recommend broadly" horror novels. Or maybe I've just gotten pickier, that's also possible. On the other hand, I still read this one in a day, so I can't be that critical.

Mistakenly Saving the Villain by Feng Yu Nie. This one was a bit of a disappointment to me, alas. I enjoyed it, still, but I think I wanted it to be more fucked up than it was. The twist at the end did genuinely surprise me, though, so it gets points for that.

--

I'm currently reading Conspirituality: How New Age Conspiracies Became a Health Threat by Derek Beres, Matthew Remski, and Julian Walker, alongside Faraway Wanderers by priest.

As far as what comes next when I finish one/both of those, I have a long list of want-to-reads I'm kind of jumbling around in deciding on. Among the likely candidates are Lords of Uncreation by Adrian Tchaikovsky, Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh, and Too Like the Lightning by Ada Palmer. On the nonfiction side I'm looking at In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado, An Intellectual History of Cannibalism by Cătălin Avramescu, and Spin Dictators by Sergei Guriev and Daniel Treisman.

#reading recaps #sometimes i read things

[nomizombie]

König’s first CNY 🧧🥢🎊

boyfriend!König x afab?GN!reader

[SFW/Fluff/Wholesome] ; basically celebrating lny/cny with ur boyfriend, könig (very self indulgent haha), i guess this one is aimed towards people with female bodies? … since the reader wears a qipao, but if you wanna wear one and you have a male body thats okay too! :)), no usage of pronouns, no y/n

[A/N] ; 新年快乐 (xīn nián kuài lè) to my fellow chinese/singaporeans/anyone else celebrating!! Just got my ang paos from my extended family. Ahh I think my back is gonna break from the amount of bowing i had to do tho…

He had never seen so many people wearing red at the same time. Red floral qipaos, red bows, red shirts, and of course… red envelopes.

That morning, you handed him one too, although you arent technically aren't supposed to.

He accepted it, a puzzled look in his eyes as he opened it and expected a letter of some kind. Instead, a couple euros laid within.

“Lieb, what is this?” He asked, very very confused.

“It's an ang bao, silly.” you laughed.

He stared at it again, even more confused. Perplexed eyes roaming all over the package.

“An, ang… bao?” He struggled to pronounce it, german accent and all.

“For chinese new year.” You happily smiled at him while he clutched the bright red envelope in between his massive fingers.

“You give me… money?” He asked again, worried you thought he was in need.

“You really dont have to i have enough schatzi-“

“No, no, no! Its a tradition!” You giggled, “every CNY you give away red packets to kids and other adults!”

He blinked at you.

“So you give me money for…?”

“Just take it!” You pressed the envelope against him.

He smiled at you.

“Chinese new year is awesome.” He laughed.

Later that day, as the two of you were getting dressed to visit your relatives, he stumbled into your room looking for his watch. Thats when he found you staring at yourself in the mirror, donning a scarlet qipao.

He couldve sworn his jaw dropped.

You turned around, red, fitting since its chinese new year.

“König! Youre done already?”

He continued staring at you, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“You look… really good.” Is all he could manage. How was he supposed to put your beauty into words?

You stared up at him as you tugged at the sides of the floral garment nervously.

“Thanks.” You said, eyes dropping to the floor in embarrassment.

He smiled at your bashfulness. He had seen you wear dresses a million times at this point but for some reason, a qipao was different.

Once the two of you arrived at your relatives home, he was immediately bombarded with a tsunami of aunts and uncles fawning over him. Labelling him as your “tall boy”.

While he was left in a encircling swarm of relatives pinching at his cheeks and asking him questions that were much too personal, you were free to eat as much of the feast without any ‘thats too much’ remarks. Also free to pray to the shrine in the corner without some stingy uncle saying your ‘qipao was too short’.

You would have to cuddle him for a few hours at least as an apology. His limit is 2 people for a maximum of half an hour.

When he finally broke free from the crowd of relatives, he found you curled up on the couch watching a lion dance performance on TV. He playfully slapped your shoulder, clearly feeling betrayed after you abandoned him.

“Sorry.” You cheekily grinned at him. You were full of delicious food and he was drained of all his energy. Eh, he’d live.

“Can we go home now..?” He said meekly, voice raspy from all the answering he had done. More words said in one hour than he had ever said in a year.

You rubbed his head as he dropped it into the crook of your neck.

“Sure. Just let me get one more bite of the roast duck and then-“

He stopped you, pressing a finger to your lips.

“I swear I will die here, schatz. If we dont leave now, I might go insane.” He hissed at you.

You laughed. He was always so dramatic. Either way, he would have to get used to it. You planned on bringing him to every gathering from now on.

“新年快乐, König.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, snickering.

新年快乐 = xīn nián kuài lè ("happy chinese new year")

oh god my back still hurts from all the bowing 😭😭 ang paos make the pain worth it tho :33

#. ˚₊‧꒰ა 🧟🧠 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ #°˖ ⊹ ꒰✒️꒱ ♡ #xin nian kuai le!!! :3 #boyfriend!könig #könig #fanfic #fluff #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig fluff #könig x y/n #konig x reader #afab reader #afab nonbinary #call of duty #writing #fanfiction #drabble #cny #cny2024

[unreliablesnake]

Wounded animals

Pairing(s): It's supposed to be a Joel Miller x reader piece, but Tommy took control when I wrote it so it might be a Tommy Miller x reader story. Idk.

Note: This is like a pilot chapter. I'm more of a short chapters kind of girl because–to quote Neil Ellice–I have the attention span of a bag of squirrels.

Warning: afab!reader

It had been a very long shift so far and you still didn't see the end of it. Since the night seemed to be relatively quiet, you lied down on the bottom bunk bed in the on-call room, hoping you could catch some sleep.

You had no idea how much time had passed, but you were woken up by someone coming in and talking to you, saying words you couldn't quite understand just yet. Your eyes slowly opened and you found a man standing there, suddenly falling silent as he watched you.

"I can't believe it," he muttered under his breath as he walked inside and closed the door behind him. "It's really you."

He knew you, he was familiar, but the pieces of the puzzle simply didn't click in your head after spending so much time awake. But then you noticed a scar on his forearm, right below his elbow, that jump-started your memory. "Tommy!" you squealed as you stood up and rushed over to hug him.

His arms sneaked around your waist as he embraced you, keeping you in a bear hug you couldn't escape from. "We thought no one got out of the hospital alive, we thought you died," he said, chin resting on top of your head.

With a quiet chuckle, you leaned back a little to look up at him. "The military came in and took every staff member somewhere safe. They put us in quarantine to see if we were infected, but once we were proven to be clear, they took us to different clinics to help whoever got injured in that mess," you explained.

"I'm so happy to see you," he said, murmuring into your hair before reluctantly letting you go as he stepped away from you.

"What about Joel and Sarah? Do you know anything about them?"

"Sarah was killed by a soldier right at the start, we couldn't save her," he began to tell you, sitting down on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his thighs. "Joel… Something broke in him that night, he's… not the same."

Not the same. Tommy's words echoed in your mind, making you wonder what had happened to him. Losing his daughter and finding himself in a strange new world probably had its toll on him, but at the same time his younger brother seemed perfectly fine. How bad could that be?

"Is he here in the QZ?" you asked quietly.

Tommy nodded. "He's right here, on this floor. I came in here because he finally woke up and it would be great if someone could take a look at him. The doctor who helped him went home apparently," he told you with a smile.

You sat down next to him, your eyes fixed on the door as you thought about this. Twelve years. It had been twelve years since the world went crazy. Since you had to leave everything behind. Since you were separated from Joel. Since you last felt love.

Now? Now you weren't sure you could look Joel in the eye. Your heart had been empty lately. It was much easier to deal with your job in this new world if you didn't have any feelings for others. No friends. No lovers. No family. Nothing. You were just an empty shell compared to your old self.

Suddenly you felt Tommy take your hand in his, fingers absentmindedly tangling with yours as he watched you. Tilting your head to the side, you gave him a questioning look. Something was wrong, you could feel it, but you also didn't want to force him to tell you what bothered him.

Then he stood up and pulled you up with him, his hand not letting go of yours, even when you left the room. As he led you to the room Joel was in, you wondered what you should say to him. What do you say to your ex-finacé you hadn't seen in over a decade?

"It's gonna be alright," Tommy told you when he stopped in front of a door. You gave him a doubtful look, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head in return. "Just don't expect the old Joel, okay?" You nodded obediently. "Good. Let's go."

Your heart was beating in your throat, the world around you slowing down as he opened the door and stepped inside. You followed him like a lapdog, your eyes fixed on your shoes as you walked. It was hard to look up, to look at Joel again after all those years.

"You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me," you heard Joel say bitterly.

That's when you finally looked up, facing the man with a sad look in your eyes. He didn't sound like the old Joel. Your Joel. This man was a stranger, with no softness in his brown eyes.

"I found her sleeping in a room," Tommy said with a short laugh, probably to lighten the mood. "After all these years it turns out she survived."

"I heard what happened to Sarah. I'm so–"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Joel growled like a rabid dog.

You took a step back at the same time you felt Tommy's hand on the small of your back. When you looked up at him, he only shook his head with a sad smile. Don't ask, don't object, just stay calm. You could certainly do that.

With a sigh, you finally pulled yourself together and walked closer to the bed. "Can I take a look at your wound?" you asked cautiously. You were a doctor, it was your job to help him.

But Joel had a different idea. "I want another doctor," he snarled.

This took you off guard, and you soon felt Tommy put a hand on your waist to pull you behind him. "Joel, calm down, she just wants to help. She's a doctor in case you forgot, and you're a patient. Let her help," he tried.

"Get out. Both of you."

He didn't have to say twice, you shook your head and turned around to leave the room as he asked. Once outside, you leaned your back against the wall and started to cry silently, his words replaying in your head over and over again, each time hurting you more than before. Tommy had been right, this wasn't the Joel you knew so well.

"Hey, hey, don't cry, it's not worth the tears," Tommy said when he showed up in front of you, raising his hand to wipe your tears away. "He's been like that for a long time, don't take it personally. I think you remind him of his old life, of Sarah, and it's too much for him. Also, he's like a wounded animal now, attacking anyone who goes near him."

You didn't object when he pulled you into a hug, his hand rubbing along your spine to soothe you. Soon you stopped crying, your brain focusing on him instead, listening to the mixture of the steady rhythm of his breathing and the way his heart pounded against his chest.

Maybe this was for the better. If he really had changed this much over the years, it would probably be for the best if you didn't talk to him. He was in the past, it would be better to keep nothing more but the good memories.

Your hands instinctively moved to your necklace and the ring you had on it. He gave you this engagement ring before the military took you away, and you weren't about to let it go until now. But today you realized the Joel you remembered was nothing more but a ghost that kept haunting you.

So you took it off and placed it into Tommy's hand. "Could you give it back to him?" you asked.

He took a look at the piece of jewelry and you saw a glint in his eyes that you didn't really understand at the time. But he eventually flashed a smile at you and nodded. "Sure. When will your shift end?"

You let out a long sigh as you thought about whether or not you wanted to think about hanging out with him. Because that's what he wanted to ask, you could feel it. In the end you looked at your watch and let out a thoughtful hum.

"I still have five and a half hours left, and then I'm gonna hit the bed at home," you replied.

Tommy suddenly leaned over to place a kiss on your forehead. "Okay, sleep is important, especially in your line of work," he began. "I know where to find you now, so we'll talk some other time then."

Apparently he wasn't about to give up so you gave in. After nodding, you said goodbye and left to return to the on-call room, hopefully catching some sleep.

Not like you could sleep with Joel on your mind.

••••••

Taglist (although I won't do this in the future - hit the get notifications button and you'll know when I post something): @kyuupidwrites

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #the last of us #tlou

[mk-wizard]

Baymax the series: We owe it an apology

As someone who is a fan of Baymax, Big Hero 6, a comic author and most relevantly, a mother, I just have to get a few things off of my chest about the new Baymax series which I find other parents not only reacted way too harshly, but I find it was deeply misjudged and misunderstood.

The harshest claim the Baymax series, and even Big Hero 6, gets is that it is not appropriate for children, but that claim alone is flawed because the Big Hero 6 series (movie, books, shorts, cartoons, etc.) was never aimed at small children and always dealt with topics that were serious or went over a small child’s head. While the character Baymax is child friendly with his teddy bear like appearance and sweet demeanor, the series he comes from is obviously aimed for pre-teens and teenagers since the main characters are in that age group and deal with situations people of that age group can identify with. Some of these issues are not even medical, biological or even sexual. They are just social such as having to deal with loss, regret and changes you weren’t ready for. From the beginning of the story, the main character Hiro is an orphan who is initially on the wrong path until his older brother Tadashi sets him straight and even soon after that, his brother dies in a tragic accident. And all of this as well as the other serious topics are presented with class and sensitivity. There is no gore or harsh imagery aside from the funeral itself which was sad, but clean.

I must also point out that in Big Hero 6 progressivism has always been present whether it is in the form of science or social awareness. Just look at how progressively it portrays men and women or the rich and poor. It takes a huge stab (no pun intended) by making Wasabi a swordfighter who is also meek, nervous, insecure, kind of a fraidy cat and yet is still not any less of a fighter for it. Then there is Fred who is very wealthy yet has a job which he is proud of, he gets joy out of simple things, he is unconditionally kind to everyone, does things by himself, he isn’t narcissistic and isn’t concerned with the social class of his peers. Also, it is also very clear that it is a very feminist series because the women and girls of Big Hero 6 and Baymax are diverse and strong. It should come as no surprise to us that it would introduce us to some LGBT+ characters too, present the period as being a normal and natural thing, and have gender neutral bathrooms which might I add only contained stalls which gave anyone and everyone privacy when they had to go. Everything was presented with class and nothing innocence shattering was shown or done.

Not even when during the period episode, it showed men being aware of what a period is and what a girl needs for it. A man is not a pervert for being aware of how basic female biology works not even if he is transgender. And in the defense of that background character who just happened to be a transgender male, all he did was be a nice guy. It is like being aware of how breathing works. Even my husband who has no sisters and is biologically male knows what the period is and how it works. Also, suppose a kid was watching that episode of Baymax, it is alright because most of it would go over their head and nothing private is shown. Even the sight of the hygiene products isn’t so bad because we never even see them directly. We just see labels and boxes. As mentioned before, this series’ main audience consists of teenagers and pre-teens so it is natural for it to address topics like this.

And I also have to come to the defense of Mbita who is gay and openly asked his crush out on a date; there is absolutely nothing inappropriate about a consenting adult asking another consenting adult out. In the eyes of a child who doesn’t get how dating and crushes work, the kid will think Mbita and his crush are just really good friends and they would think the exact same thing if his crush was a woman. That is unless the kid has gay relatives or a gay parent, and even then, it is ok. I did not see an agenda being pushed around or rubbed harshly in the face of the viewer. I just saw a character in a situation that is relatable to anyone who has had a crush they were too nervous to talk to which tons of straight people go through too. If anything, I thought it was sweet. The only part of Mbita’s episode that a small child understands is that he suddenly became allergic to fish at this made him upset because he loves cooking fish and he was apprehensive about cooking something else. That and he clearly fears needles.

If you think the Big Hero 6 franchise is not for small children, that is fine because it admits that it isn’t, but you can’t fault it for that and you definitely should not persecute it for that. Do not make claims that it is trying to harm children or push agendas. It is not doing anything that it has not done before and none of it is evil.

Fellow parents, please stop being so angry at a series that didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t know about all of you, but I actually think that everything the Baymax series brought to the table so far was nice, well written, heartwarming and relatable to everyone.

I think you owe Baymax and its writers an apology because you said some things that weren’t very nice or true.

#art #argument #criticsm #baymax #big hero 6 #positive #kindness #relatable #fandom #baymax series #big hero 6 baymax #biology #progressive #feminism #feminist #gender equality #transgender #gay #lgbt #equality #awareness #basic knowledge #parenthood

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Your writing is so amazing!!! Could we get #14 for shigadabi?

Prompt: heat/Sex pollen/love potion

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sex Pollen, Fuck or Die, Begging, Dacryphillia, Multiple Orgasms, Handcuffs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dry Humping, Handjobs, Praise Kink, Dub-Con associated with this trope that is recognized by the characters involved and discussed within the narrative followed up by enthusiastic consent.

Everything happens so fast. Goes from a tense but potentially fruitful meeting with a small group of villains who specialize in chemical compounds and weaponry, a contact that Toga and Twice managed to learn about during their time with the Shie Hassaikai. People without resources now that Overhaul has been taken out of the picture and desperate enough to keep doing their research they seemed willing to overlook their part in that. People who, they had been hoping, might be able to expand on the process used to make the quirk erasing bullets that they had also stolen. But negotiations broke down. They didn't even so much as break as implode. Shigaraki isn't even sure exactly what set it off, had been having a relatively civil conversation and then one of the members snapped at their representative. Had been two short, bitter comments and then he had lashed out with his quirk. Doesn't know how their infighting had spilled over and gotten directed at them, but the next thing they knew the League was being rounded on. 

It's an actual genuine surprise when Dabi steps in, moves in front of them as a cloud of pale pink spores are suddenly filling the air and racing towards the rest of them. When he ignites he torches the lot of them and the group of scientists in one massive wall of blue flame. A surprise because he didn't think Dabi really gave a fuck about the rest of them and their continued well-being. Hadn't thought he would ever put himself in harms way like that. But Dabi torches their opposition and then hesitates, smoke curling from his arms. 

"Woah," Toga murmurs, watching the flames eat up the other half of the building. 

"Certainly an impressive display," Compress remarks, "But perhaps we should be taking our leave now?" 

Yeah, absolutely. Do not need to get caught when someone sees the smoke and fire pouring from the building. At least when negotiations broke down this time no one got killed, he thinks bitterly. At least no one got hurt--

Dabi takes a step towards them. He sees it, the slight wobble to his step, starts to move before he even knows why, and then Dabi is dropping. Barely manages to catch him before he hits the floor without accidentally activating his quirk. Shit. Shifts his grip to keep a finger away from his skin. 

"Fuck," the arsonist's voice thin, smoke leaking out from his mouth. Can see sweat starting to bead across his brow and then he's gone, eyes fluttering shut and going limp in his arms. 

"Shit, what happened?" Spinner rushing over to help him try and haul Dabi back onto his feet. No use, not particularly heavy, but completely dead weight. 

"Must have gotten hit with some of whatever that quirk was." He mutters, "Compress," doesn't even really need to ask. They need to leave, dragging around their unconscious companion is not going to help with that. The older man comes over and marbles Dabi immediately. Also will help keep him in stasis as they travel. They regroup and start to move. "Go back to base." He tells the rest of them, the base in question a gutted condemned apartment building for the time being, "Take him to see the doctor."

"Text me when you need him released," Compress tells him easily, 

"And you'll text us when you know what's wrong, right?" Toga's voice a little more worried. Can't blame her. Barely a month since they lost Magne. 

"I will," he reassures her, "Go on." 

They separate and he does his best to make his way towards Ujiko's lab swiftly. 

///

Takes an hour to get to the lab and then another hour of the doctor running tests before they know what's wrong with him. 

Aphrodisiac quirks aren't unheard of. They're not incredibly common and tend to carry a significant stigma given that they can cause public acts of indecency on the low end of damages and can be the source of assault and rampant abuse on the higher end. Can also be fairly deadly depending on the potency of them, with victims sometimes not even being able to remember to eat or drink through the haze of lust. Ujiko tells him this, says that he's put Dabi on an IV to keep him from dying of dehydration, and says that they'll have to wait and see if this version of the quirk will fade on its own or not. Because sometimes they do. Sometimes it's just a matter of letting it run its course and then moving on. But sometimes. Sometimes they won't fade without outside assistance. 

Texts the others and tells them that they're waiting for Dabi to wake up and see the effects of the quirk but doesn't tell them what he was hit with. Doesn't know if Dabi would want anyone to know. Barely sticks around with them when they aren't actively doing a job, hasn't told them anything about himself in the months that he's been working with them, doubts that he would want them to know even an inch of vulnerability now. Still doesn't quite understand why he had gotten in front of them, why he had risked-- and actually gotten-- hit with this quirk to keep them safe. Never seemed to care about their safety before now. 

After three hours it becomes clear that this isn't going to be as easy as just waiting it out. Tomura's not sure exactly when Dabi woke, believes the doctor tried to go in and explain the situation to him before he entirely lost his head, doesn't know how successful he was. Then Ujiko showed him into an observation chamber, in case he needed to check in on the arsonist, and left, actually maintaining his job at the hospital and needing to go to his shift. Told him to check up on Dabi again in another few hours and if it wasn't fading then intervention would probably be necessary to keep him alive. Waits three hours and then checks up on the man. Is shooting out of the chair, going to one of the cabinets of supplies and finding what he needs before making his way to the room Dabi's been put in. 

Smoke is trickling out from beneath the door. 

Enters the room and immediately notices how hot it is, notices that before the choked little sounds of whimpers and moans coming from the bed. Dabi is smoking too, his coat, shirt, and boots pulled off, the air around him shimmering with heat, sweat beaded across his skin. Rutting into a pillow making those desperate, pained little sounds. 

His mouth goes dry and he immediately tries to shake that as he tries to get the other man's attention, approaching the bed carefully. "Dabi,"

Gets a desperate gasp out of the other man, pulling his head up to look at him, pupils blown so wide he can barely see any blue at all, face flushed, mouth open and panting softly. "Duster," a thready little whine. Doesn't expect him to keen softly before surging up to reach for him. Not expecting his hands to close around his forearms and try to pull him down, wonders if he should have realized how absolutely scorching his touch would be even through the long sleeves of his shirt, but the staples across his palms are glowing, and they immediately start to burn through the fabric. 

"Fuck, Dabi your quirk," brought suppression cuffs. Neither he or Ujiko had even thought they would be needed, didn't know that there was a risk of Dabi incinerating himself while under the effects of this quirk. 

"Help?" Desperate and wavering and he feels something tighten sharply behind his ribs. 

"Yeah, come on, just need to let go." 

The other man seems to struggle but manages after a second. Releases his arms and he feels his skin stinging with burns. Can see the holes burned into his sleeves where his staples touched. Barely takes a breath before he's wrapping the cuffs around Dabi's wrists and locking them in place. As soon as they're on, the smoke stops and Dabi all but collapses, forcing him to catch him again as he lets out a loud breathless sound of relief. 

The smoke around the room starts to dissipate and he sees that the heat has burned holes in the thin cot as well, melted the IV bag and evaporated the liquid. Lucky he got to the other man before he'd set the whole room on fire. Winces slightly when Dabi's hands wrap around his forearms again and he pulls. Not expecting it, stumbles. The arsonist uses the momentum to get him onto the bed, pushing him up against the wall before he can shift, 

"Dabi--" 

"Please, please, Duster, please," Has the other man in his lap, can feel his cock straining against his pants as he grinds against his thigh, making his mouth go dry again. Fuck. 

"Dabi, shit, you'll be fine, you just need to get this out of your system--" 

"Can't," never heard the other man sound so broken. "Can't cum, please, Duster, please," 

God fucking damn it. Because if he hasn't been able to get himself off at all then this is the really bad type of aphrodisiac quirk. The kind that will kill him if it stays in his system for too long. The kind that needs assistance to remove. Feels his stomach go hollow as he is suddenly faced with the question of if Dabi would rather die or rather... have him help when he's so out of his head. Dabi can barely tolerate him, they tried to kill each other a few months ago.

"Do you have anyone I can call--" Doesn't know anything about Dabi other than that he is good at his job when he deigns to be around to do it. Could have a significant other, someone he trusts, anyone who could help. 

Shakes his head, whining and rutting against his thigh again. Shigaraki grabs his hips, holding tightly, trying to keep him from doing it again and Dabi keens, "Want you, please," 

Knows it's the quirk talking. Knows Dabi wouldn't ever say that to him. Hates himself for how much he likes it. For how much he's wanted to have Dabi looking at him like this, desperate for his touch, doesn't want it when he knows the other man isn't in his right mind. Is trying to think of literally anything else he can do when Dabi meets his eyes again, when he sees that the other man's are wide and glassy, his whole body trembling, 

"Hurts, please Shig, please. Help?" The last word escaping him on a thin sob. Startles as he starts to cry blood. Crimson tears slipping over his cheeks as he shakes, hands fisted in his shirt and straining against the hold on his hips. 

Fuck. Going to lose his best piece one way or the other. Would rather Dabi be alive to hate him when he goes than gone completely. "...Okay," loosens his grip and gently rocks his thigh up against Dabi's hard cock. Makes the arsonist moan loudly, pressing in closer. Lets him start to ride his thigh, settles into a desperate frantic rhythm, sharp gasps and moans slipping constantly from his lips. Tries to stay still, to keep his own cock from hardening as he has the other man rutting in his lap, face pressed against his neck. Might break hold of the quirk if he can just get off with someone else there. Just let Dabi do this and hopefully he'll be alright. Can't take away the wrongness of all of this, but may be able to ease a little of the filth that's going to cling to his soul afterwards. 

Hears the other man still whimpering, sniffling, feels his tears dripping against his skin. Can't help it, raises a hand and strokes through his hair, "It's fine, you're gonna be fine, baby, come on," Rocks his thigh up against him again. Gets another loud, broken moan against his throat, "Feels good, doesn't it? Come on, be over soon, just have to cum, Dabi." 

Gets another weak nod against his neck as he keeps moving, thrusts going faster, breaths coming in harsh pants. His moans are constant and getting louder, higher, his muscles tightening, must be close--

Dabi's whole body goes rigid as he cums. Tomura lets out a slow breath, pulls his hand from his hair, ready to need to extract himself as the other man's sense returns. Takes a second for Dabi to pull his face from his neck, panting and eyes still hazy. Fuck. Looks so good blissed out with tears clinging to his cheeks. Doesn't even have time to linger on the wrongness of that thought slipping through his mind when Dabi didn't choose to show this to him, before the expression is gone, his brows pulling together for a second, confusion written across his features. Understands at the same time as him, as he doesn't feel Dabi softening at all. Cannot catch a fucking break with this quirk. 

"No," Dabi's little whine makes his chest fucking ache. Shatters his heart when Dabi gives another weak sob. "D-didn't work. Need more, fuck, please Tomura, please, I'm sorry." 

Immediately reaches and cups his face in his hands, trying to brush away the tears and shush him. Trying to comfort him. Didn't even know that would be something so automatic for him. Hadn't ever had to do it for anyone before they'd lost Magne. Definitely isn't any good at it but he'll try for Dabi, for all of them. "Shh, you don't have to apologize, Dabi. It's not your fault," knows that the words can't be trusted but he just needs something if he's going to convince himself to go through with this, "Are you sure you want me to help?" 

Dabi nods desperately, "Please, need you, please Tomura,"

Takes a shaky breath of his own. "Okay, gonna give you what you need." Tries to coax him out of his lap and Dabi clings a little tighter. "Just want to get you undressed, sweetheart, won't that feel good?" Earns another needy sound from the other man and he lets himself be shifted out of his lap and back onto the cot. Doesn't immediately reach to help him with the last bits of his clothes, Dabi struggling to do so himself with the suppression cuffs on, instead reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his gloves. Doesn't usually wear them in bed, usually trusts his control even here, but Dabi is already so desperate, has already grabbed at him a few times. Is already so vulnerable and he is not going to make that any worse by potentially hurting him further with his quirk. 

Gets on his gloves, takes a small breath to steady himself and then reaches to help him with the thick belt and the clasp of his pants. Dabi moans again when he gets them open, when the cooler air of the room touches his hot skin. Wonders if he would literally be on fire if not for the cuffs. Can't really keep stalling and the arsonist lifts his hips eagerly so he can peel the leather away from his long legs. Fuck. Wondered what he would look like naked, prettier than he imagined. Wondered how far the scars would go, didn't know if he expected them to wrap around his legs, stapled together around the middle of his thighs and extending down to his calf on one leg and all the way to his ankle on the other. But there is an expanse of unblemished skin, smeared with his release, glistening with sweat too, his cock flushed and curving up against his stomach, a ladder of six shiny barbells decorating the underside of his length. Feels his own arousal starting to build as he takes in the sight of the other man, especially when Dabi whimpers, 

"Tomura," hips rocking up, looking for anything, and he tears his eyes away from his body and finds Dabi looking back at him, eyes hazy and half-lidded, face flushed, tears still clinging to his cheeks. Swallows and tries to focus. Just needs to get him off, break the quirk. 

Wraps his hand around Dabi's cock, giving him a long slow stroke, palm sliding easily enough when he's already wet with cum. Is aching himself when Dabi moans so loudly, cuffed hands reaching and tangling tight in his shirt as his back arches, head thrown back, the sound tearing from his chest as he starts to rock up into his fist immediately, spreading his legs even wider. Lets Dabi set the pace, lets him fuck into his hand fast and messy. Tries to find what he likes. Figures out from how his voice goes high and whining that he wants him to tug a little at the piercings, that he likes it when he tightens his grip around his base. 

Finds out how badly he wants to be kissed when the hands in his shirt yank him roughly, tugging him down just enough for Dabi to crash their lips together. Doesn't mean to let himself moan softly against the other's lips, but if anything the soft sound makes Dabi more frantic. Lips needy and wanting, tongue flicking out over his, teeth following. And he's too weak to stop him. Opens his mouth, meets his tongue. Kisses Dabi rough and filthy until he's getting familiar with the lingering taste of smoke all over Dabi's tongue and the other man is moaning. Is still kissing him when his body goes rigid again, when he lets out another gut-punched sound of pleasure before his cock is twitching against his palm and he's spilling again. 

"Ah, Tomura, please, more," Doesn't even pause this time, keeps fucking into his hand. Still hard. Fuck. Not enough. Can't help it, presses another kiss to his panting mouth. Dabi cants his hips up again, pulls back so he can look into those pretty, lust-dark eyes, "Inside? Please, want you." Doesn't. Not really. But he's still in danger. Will be until the quirk breaks.  

"Okay," his voice soft and thin. Wishes this was real. Wishes that Dabi really wanted this. Takes his wet hand from around Dabi's cock and he spreads his legs wide so that he can press his fingers to his hole. Blinks, confused, because he's already wet. Shifts so that he can see, and realizes that there's something slick dripping down his thighs, his hole glistening with it. Another effect of the quirk? Doing something to make his body ready for what it would make him crave? Rubs a finger over his hole, smearing the slick, seeing more of it drip out as the ring of muscles twitches against the touch. The whine Dabi makes is going to haunt his dreams after this. 

"Duster," watches Dabi's mouth fall slack as he slowly presses his finger inside. Wet enough he doesn't feel any drag as he sinks into that tight heat, muscles immediately squeezing around him, getting another loud moan as Dabi rocks back. Still tries to go slow, doesn't want to rush here and risk hurting him, uses his other hand to hold his hips so that he can't fuck himself open. Every press of his finger has a little more fluid leaking out of him and after another minute he hesitantly presses in a second finger. Only makes Dabi moan even louder, his fingers knotted in his shirt so tightly that his knuckles are going white, "Ah, Tomura," Starts to work him open more deliberately, crooking his fingers, searching. 

Finds his prostate and Dabi sobs again. Shit, tries to ease off, 

"No, no, more, so good, please, Shig, please," Okay, fuck. Keeps going, watching Dabi fall apart, his cock drooling constantly, tears slipping across his temples. His cock is aching. Doesn't matter, shouldn't be, adds another finger, keeps pressing. Slowly loosens his grip on Dabi's hip, lets him start to fuck himself on his hand. Doesn't take long until he's frantic, moving so fast that the wet slide of it is obscene, competing with the litany of pleasured sounds still falling off his lips. Keeps going until his muscles are squeezing tight around him and he's cumming again. 

Stays hard. 

Sees Dabi grit his teeth, sees him swallow hard, turn his face so it's half hidden against the pillow. Another sob, deeper, coming from his chest in a way that makes his gut so sour, feels hollowed out when he speaks again. "...'m sorry, fuck me, please, need your cock." Voice so small and shaken. Doesn't know what else he can do, doesn't know how long Dabi can stay like this. 

Reaches and wipes away a few more tears. Dabi presses into the touch, eyes squeezing shut. "Alright, baby," Doesn't know what to do with the ache in his chest when Dabi wraps his hand around his wrist to keep him there so he can shift and press a soft kiss to his palm. Only lets go of him when he eases his fingers out of his body and starts to shift to pull himself from his pants. Watches him again with those dark eyes. His cock is aching as he shifts, made all the worse when Dabi moans softly as he sees him, teeth sinking into his lip as he tangles his hands back into his shirt and tries to pull him closer, urging him to go faster. 

Wraps a hand around Dabi's thigh, the other leg hooking around his hip and pulling him closer, until his head is dragging over his hole. Dabi gasps, his whole body trembling, trying to rock against him. Fuck, the friction feels so good. Takes one more breath to steady himself before he starts to press into the tight, wet, heat of the other man's body. Can't help the groan that pulls from his chest as he sinks inside. Swallows him up greedily, Dabi moaning so loudly that his voice cracks, panting harshly when he bottoms out. Means to give him a second to adjust but Dabi doesn't care to wait, immediately starts to roll his hips, making short needy little sounds as he does so, his cock leaking all over his stomach and muscles tightening rhythmically around him. 

Never going to have him again, will be lucky if the other man doesn't light him on fire when this passes. Wants to make it good, wants to help him, wants him. Just once. Lets himself focus on that as he starts to fuck him. Moves a little slower than the frantic twitches of Dabi's hips, makes sure that he's going deep, hitting his prostate. It's an indulgence that he shouldn't allow himself, but he does, lets himself press kisses and little nips along Dabi's jaw and throat as he wraps one hand around his cock and strokes him in time with his thrusts. Has the arsonist moaning even louder, reaching up as best he can to tangle a hand in his hair, starts to pull his mouth away from his skin only to find Dabi dragging him back into a messy kiss. Kisses him back, kisses him with every broken aching hope that he had for this that has been absolutely destroyed. Has the man sobbing against his mouth, kissing him back hard. 

Keeps moving, pleasure building under his skin, surprised that Dabi hasn't cum again. Dripping all over his hand, can feel it leaking out of him with every thrust, fuck, what if this wasn't what he needed to break it? "Dabi,"

"Shig," immediately rocks back against him harder. 

"What do you need sweetheart?" Do anything to stop this for him. To make him better. 

Dabi whimpers, face flushing even darker before he tries to hide against his shoulder, fingers tightening in his shirt. "...More?"

Fucks him harder, moves his hand faster, gets another loud moan pressed against his throat. "That it, baby?" Not expecting the whine he gets at the words too. 

"More," he pleads. Hasn't changed the pace. Takes him a second, 

"Want me to talk to you, Dabi?" Makes the heat in his veins go even sharper when Dabi whimpers, nodding weakly against his neck. "Doing so good for me, baby," he tries, nearly choking on his arousal. Feels how he goes tighter, hears the little moan against his skin again, his hips moving a little more desperately. "That's it, fuck, feel so good, sound so good." Every word a confession he shouldn't be allowed, "Didn't know you could make those sounds, gorgeous." Sounds that are starting to change, short fast little gasps that come each time he sinks into his body. So hot and tight around him that he's feeling his orgasm starting to creep up on him. "Getting close, darling?" 

Another little nod against him and a weak sob. 

"Shh, that's good baby, just need to cum for me. One more time," hopes he's right, hopes the fact that this one has taken so much longer means it's the last, "So pretty when you cum, let me see you one more time, please, baby?" 

"Duster," didn't even know Dabi's voice could go so high and thin. 

Goes even tighter around his cock and he's gasping a moan himself, tangles a hand in Dabi's hair and pulls gently, coaxing him back enough he can look at him again. Almost delirious with his pleasure, whimpers when their eyes meet, blush darkening further. "Beautiful," perfect. 

"Tomura," presses in again, meets him. Kisses him hard as Dabi's body goes rigid one more time, goes so tight around his cock, doesn't even feel him cumming in his hand, can't stop himself from giving two more shallow thrusts before he's sinking as deep as he can and following Dabi over the edge. And then they're not so much as kissing as they are just sharing breaths as they both try to greedily fill their lungs with air. Takes another second before Dabi gives a low, relieved gasp, and Tomura feels him starting to soften. Is only relieved himself a second before everything that just happened starts to settle in him. Broke the quirk. Dabi's not going to die. Doesn't make up for everything else. 

Shifts as gently as he can. The damage is already done but he's still careful as he lets go of him and pulls out. Dabi's eyes are closed, still panting, completely limp against the cot, fuck, okay. Needs to at the very least get him something to drink before he tells him to fuck off or tries to kill him. Starts to move away. Dabi makes a sharp sound, eyes opening, pupils shrunk back to normal, lets him see all of that pretty blue again, and reaches for him, holding onto his shirt. 

"Wait--" Can't help it, his eyes automatically flick back to his cock, but he's not hard again. Meets his eyes again and Dabi is flushing, doesn't stay looking at him for long, "Cuffs." 

Oh. Right. Shit. Didn't grab a key on his way in, doesn't know what the code is. "Right, sorry, hold still." His gloves are filthy and he takes them off as he shifts away from the arsonist, enough that he can sit up. Once they're off Dabi lets him take hold of his wrists, pressing five fingers to the cuffs. They gray and crack, dust falling away from his skin after another second. He pulls his hands away immediately, moving to stand. 

"Just hang on a second, please--" sounds like himself again, but Tomura is confused why he'd reach to catch his sleeve tightly. Hesitates. Dabi still can't meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, but fuck, you could at least stick around long enough for me to thank you for saving my life." 

The sickness in his stomach grows. "Don't thank me for that." His voice hoarser than he'd expected. "I wasn't going to let you die, Dabi." 

Dabi lets go of his sleeve, "Right. Sorry." Takes a shaky breath and starts to look for his clothes. "Just give me a second and I'll be out of your hair." 

"No," Shit, definitely lost the right to give him any kind of order after all of that, tries to backtrack, "I'll go, but you need to drink something, and if you can stand being here, wait for the doctor to come back. I don't know if the quirk will have any side effects." Feels like he's trying not to startle an injured animal. "I'll stay as far away as you want, never have to see me again, but at least wait for the doctor to check you over." 

Sees Dabi's jaw clench, a tremor run through him, gives a short tight nod. "Right, okay." Voice tight too. "I'm sorry."

Didn't even know his chest could ache so sharply. "You don't have anything to apologize for, Dabi. This wasn't your fault--"

Not expecting the bark of laughter, short and bitter, Dabi finally shifting to meet his eyes. "That's sweet, Shig, but I literally dragged you into bed. Should've let you leave, shouldn't have touched you." 

Realizes that he's staring at the other man when Dabi starts to move again, going back to looking for his scattered clothes. "How aware were you?" 

Sees his jaw tense again. "...Knew what I was doing, knew I shouldn't. Couldn't stop myself anyway." 

"Because you knew what would happen if you didn't?"

Sees his shoulders hunch in on himself. "Not an excuse. Shouldn't have made you--"

"Dabi," 

"My fault. Got hit, made you stay, saw how hard you were trying not to touch me, made you anyway--" 

"I didn't want to hurt you," barely recognizes his own voice. Doesn't know if it's ever sounded so thin. "Dabi, I didn't want to take advantage of you." Sees the other man tense further. "...I didn't know how aware you were of what was happening. I wouldn't have let you die and I was trying to hold back, to just do what I thought would help break the effect. What I was doing was bad enough, I didn't want to go any further than I had to to help you." Finally gets blue eyes back on him. Shouldn't admit, "Would have been happy to touch you in any other circumstance." 

Really expects to be set on fire for that. But Dabi keeps staring at him. Feels like an eternity passes between them. "...Wouldn't have let anyone else. Would have asked for you if someone else tried to help." 

"You're sure?" Seems like he's all back together again, but he kind of doesn't dare let the hope start to knit back together that aching thing in his chest. 

Dabi flushes, "Yeah, Duster." 

"Okay," too small a word for everything now tangled between them. "Do you want me to leave?" 

"...You don't have to." 

"Not what I asked, Dabi." 

"...no."

"Okay." 

Another long stretch before Dabi mumbles, "... can come back over here if you want." Tempted to ask if he's sure again, only doesn't because Dabi seems to be anticipating the question, "I feel fine now, Shig. Know what I'm saying. Would absolutely tell you to leave or torch you if I didn't want you here. Not gonna die if you leave if you'd rather do that." 

"I don't want to go anywhere, Dabi." Moves back over to the cot and settles on the edge carefully, still searching the arsonist for any sign of discomfort. A light pink blush is dusting his cheeks, gets darker when their eyes meet before Dabi's quickly looking away again. "We would have all been hit if you hadn't stepped in." Could have dropped all of them. Might have been killed, might have burned to death, or been arrested before they even woke up and found out about the rest of it. Dabi saved them. 

He shrugs, sees him chewing on where a staple pierces into his cheek. "Wasn't going to be useless again."

"What are you talking about?" Has been one of their best. Well, if he's going to play favorites, Dabi is the best at his job. Smart, motivated, barely needs any oversight to be effective. There's a reason he lets the other man wander off whenever he chooses, always knows he'll come back when he's called and is more likely to bring something good with him when he does. 

Still not meeting his eyes. "Didn't do a damn thing in Kamino, wasn't even around when you all went to see Overhaul." His voice going tighter, "Could've stopped the bastard before he even lifted a hand--" Takes a breath, sees him exhale a little stream of smoke. "Not going to stand there and let you all get hurt again." 

"Can I kiss you?"

Dabi stiffens, head snapping up to look at him. "What?"

"I want to kiss you, can I?" 

"...yeah," 

Doesn't hesitate, curls a hand around the back of his neck, careful to keep one finger from his skin, and pulls him in. Meant for it to be gentle, starts that way, just a soft press of lips. But then Dabi shifts, moves closer, opens his mouth with a soft sigh as he reaches back. Can wrap his arms around his neck this time without the cuffs on. Keeps him close and Tomura wants to kiss him without guilt souring it. Tastes fresh smoke on Dabi's tongue as he licks into his mouth, feels his whole body go hotter against his as he does, as the other man gives as good as he gets until they're both a little breathless. Dabi who pulls away, blushing hotly, with a mumbled, 

"Fuck, gotta stop," Immediately shifts to let go of him, sees the other man shifting a little, "...Might be finding some of those side effects." Can't help it, his gaze slips lower, sees his cock starting to harden again. 

"Really?"

"Shut up." Bright red across the section of his cheeks that aren't scarred. "Still feel fine, quirk's not out of control just... sensitive I guess." Squirms again and his mouth goes dry, 

"Still getting wet?" 

"Shut up, Duster!" Feels his temperature spike with his embarrassment. "I'm fine, doesn't feel like before. Don't have to--" 

"Want to. Told you, happy to go to bed with you, Dabi. Just need to know you want it too." 

Takes a breath, meets his eyes again. "Want you to fuck me again. Wanted you before this quirk fucked it up." Wraps his hands around Dabi's hips and pulls him into his lap again, 

"Say it again, baby." Breathes it against Dabi's lips as he gently rocks his thigh up between his legs. 

Earns him a sweet, soft moan. "Want you to fuck me, Tomura." Is tangling his fingers in his hair, trying to pull him even closer as he speaks, kisses him as soon as the words are out of his mouth. 

"Give you anything you want, Dabi," barely enough breath for the words when they part. Wants to burn away the sourness of the first time.

"Want you," eyes focused and sharp the way he's come to expect from the other man, shifting closer, reaching for the hem of his shirt as he moves to press a kiss to the edge of his jaw. Lets himself believe the words this time. Lets himself pull Dabi closer. 

Lets them both take what they want from each other. 

Thank you so much for your submission!

#this was fun #love potions and stuff can be so fucked up so I tried to soften this one a bit #but I could definitely do a whole DD:DNE with this prompt too #my writing #shigadabi #mha fanfiction #kink prompts #prompt response #writing prompt

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Wanted to get a bit further on in the story in this chapter, but it was already over 4k words and I hit a decent stopping point.

So here we are.

Chapter six, my people.

OPLA!Mihawk x OC

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Chapter 6: Secrets and Lies

Word Count: 4.4k

Tags: Slow-burn, Enemies to Lovers, eventually NSFW, uh, if I think of more I'll add them or something

After having her sloop sunk by the Buggy Pirates and losing most of her worldly possessions in the process, the normally solitary mercenary Karimi Lionne finds herself teaming up with the rag-tag little crew that is the Strawhat Pirates to defeat them. She bonds with them far more quickly than she bargained for, and that quickly turns into a problem for the Kiku Kiku no Mi devil fruit user when she learns of Nami's plans to leave them high and dry, and Zoro issues a challenge at Baratie that he very likely won't live long enough to regret.

Karimi had hardly expected to find herself back in Syrup Village so soon. With everything that had happened over the past forty-eight hours it honestly seemed like it had been longer, like it hadn’t been only a day prior that she had set out aboard the Going Merry with the others for the first time. It was more than a little overwhelming.

Mihawk of course commanded her to get his boat docked, while he paid the docking fee and spoke with the highly intimidated harbormaster about the local businesses—mainly, of course, where he might find an inn or a tavern on the sleepy little island. It was more than clear that even in this relatively calm part of the East Blue, his reputation preceded him. Karimi took a moment to scan the wall of bounty posters near the docks. She always checked, in any new town, any new port.

Tilting the brim of her tricorne down to shield her eyes from the midday sun, she caught sight of the one she was looking for, quite high on the wall, a face that always seemed so strange to look at—lightly freckled, framed with dark blonde hair easily as thick and unruly as her own, a short dark goatee covering the man’s chin.

It was a face she might not even know if not for his picture on the poster. It had been two decades since she had last seen him. Years had passed since anyone had heard hide or hair of him, and his bounty was still active. Active, unchanged, still sitting at two billion, two hundred and forty-two thousand berries.

She breathed a slow sigh as she squinted up at the poster. Had he ever been captured by the Marines, his poster would have been taken down—and considering how high his bounty was, it would have been all over the newspapers, likely on the front page. No one, neither outlaw nor government, knew what had happened to him.

“Looking for someone in particular?”

Mihawk watched how she jumped when he spoke up from behind her, crossing his arms over his chest as she glanced back over her shoulder at him.

“No,” she said shortly. Clearly a lie—her gaze had been focused intently upon the posters high on the wall, no doubt on a specific one. He glanced up in that direction himself, where some of the highest bounties were listed—Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate, Marco, Red-haired Shanks, Dragon, “Quickshot” Janx, Hercinia “Firebird” Wren. Her eyes had been fixed somewhere amid that group of posters.

“Are we set?”

He trained his gaze back down to her as she adjusted her satchel on her shoulder.

“Yes,” he said after a moment. Uncertain whether he was more irritated or intrigued by the girl’s persistent penchant for secrecy, he turned away from her and started in the direction the harbormaster had advised him to head. “We should find an inn near the shipyard that will be suitable. I was told to head in the direction of the mansion.”

“Could just stay in the mansion.” He rolled his eyes over to her, and she shrugged, giving a little smirk. “I’m friends with the owner.”

“Are you capable of being anything but facetious?”

“Who said I was being facetious?” she said, lifting her eyebrows. “I could walk up to the front gates and be provided my own entire wing right this moment. Bet.”

It was impossible to tell whether she was being serious or not; Mihawk wasn’t certain of precisely how long she and the Strawhat’s crew had been in Syrup Village before leaving, and it had been difficult to tell just how much of her drunken friend’s rambling at Baratie had been truth and how much had been storytelling. The boy had mentioned Syrup Village as his home no more than in passing, had claimed to be the son of a famous pirate, and had referred to himself as the captain in the same breath he had called Monkey D. Luffy his “actual captain.”

The warlord bit the bullet after a moment and asked her outright, “And precisely how do you know the owner of this mansion?”

“Helped save her life. She had this butler who—”

“Karimi? Is that you?”

Karimi stopped mid-sentence at the sound of a feminine voice addressing her from behind them, turning around on her heel, her smirk only growing. She leaned to the side a bit as Mihawk stopped and looked over his own shoulder, and muttered, “Told you so.”

And then, leaving the warlord a bit baffled, Karimi hurried the short distance toward the young lady that had addressed her—a girl with pale blonde hair and a white dress, around her own age or a bit younger,  rather frail in stature and pale in complexion. “Kaya! I was just talking about you, how are you doing?”

“Oh—heavens, I—” The girl laughed, wrapping her in a tight hug, which Karimi returned briefly with one arm before stepping back. “I’m still well, I—you’re back so soon, are the others—is Usopp—?”

“All fine,” Karimi assured her—not entirely true considering the state in which Mihawk had left Zoro, but Karimi lied with all the flair of a seasoned politician. Mihawk took immediate note of that. “We found this restaurant after we left, Baratie? It’s aboard a ship just docked in the middle of the ocean, it’s brilliant. I got an offer for a new contract while we were there. Couldn’t turn it down.”

“O—oh, of course,” said Kaya, smiling. “You did mention you weren’t planning on staying with them permanently. It just seems so…” She glanced briefly at Mihawk as he leaned to the side against the wooden wall of a storefront on the street, arms crossed, waiting for the reunion to conclude. “Er…so…who’s your friend?” she asked with a small, nervous chuckle.

Karimi forced a wry smile. “Not a friend,” she said curtly. “New contract, like I said.” And that wry smile turned into a smirk, as she added, giving Kaya a wink and a light nudge with her elbow, “He needed a body guard.”

As the girls both laughed at the joke, Karimi glancing back at him as if daring him to do something about it in so public a setting, Mihawk was beginning to wonder if the girl did have a legitimate death wish. He remained silent, glaring in return as she turned her attention back to Kaya.

“No,” Karimi said as their laughter subsided into a few chuckles, “in all seriousness—just, ah, had some business with the Marines anchored near town. We still need to draw up an official contract, and it seemed it would be easier and more comfortable to do so in port than at sea. Inn or a private tavern parlor.”

“There’s no need for that,” said Kaya. “You’re more than welcome to stay the night at the mansion, you know that.”

“Well, I didn’t really want to impose or—”

“Stop that,” said Kaya, shoving at her arm a little and chuckling. “After what you all did for me—I told you you’re welcome any time, and I meant it. Please,” she added, smiling warmly. “I insist.”

Karimi sighed a little, but smiled herself. “Well, if you insist,” she said. She turned to the side, glancing toward Mihawk. “I suppose introductions are in order, then.” She gestured a hand toward Kaya. “Kaya, local heiress, owner of the shipyard just down the way, aspiring doctor—”

“Oh, would you stop,” said Kaya, shoving at her arm and laughing, “I haven’t even begun studying yet.”

“You’ll do fine,” said Karimi dismissively. Then she turned to Kaya, and gestured toward Mihawk. “And, er. Dracule Mihawk. Warlord.”

The laughter faded from the young woman’s face immediately, her eyes growing wide as saucers as she glanced at him and looked back at Karimi.

Then she took a quick step forward after a moment, cupping her hands around Karimi’s ear and whispering something, glancing at him again before training her gaze back onto Karimi’s. The green-haired girl just gave a sort of noncommittal shrug. Then Kaya was whispering again, and Karimi gave a short laugh. She leaned closer herself and muttered under her breath—though just loud enough for Mihawk to hear—“Yeah, maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole—ow,” she added, when Kaya hit her across the arm.

As Karimi rubbed at her arm, Kaya turned to face the warlord directly, drawing in a deep breath, and with it perhaps every bit of resolve she could fit within her small frame, and offered a pleasant smile. “I do apologize for my friend’s rudeness, sir. I’m sure she just thinks she’s being funny. I would be more than honored to have you both as guests at my estate. I’m sure you would find it far more accommodating to your needs than the inn.”

It came as a bit of a shock that Karimi hadn’t simply been blowing smoke—the formal air about the frail girl was clear indication that she had been raised into money and powerful influence, even if said influence only extended across the small village where they presently found themselves. He glanced at Karimi, rolled his eyes at her grin, and turned his attention back to Kaya.

A mansion did sound far more comfortable an option.

“I appreciate your offer, Miss Kaya,” he said after a moment, curtly. “And I accept it. We will be departing tomorrow morning, no later than first light.”

“Well, you are both welcome to stay as long as you need,” she said pleasantly, bowing her head politely.

Mihawk lingered behind the girls as Kaya led the way to the mansion, listening to their conversation while they passed by the vast shipyard.

“Are you still planning on selling?” asked Karimi. “I was hoping I might be able to buy my next sloop from you.”

“Well…it does provide a good source of income at the present,” said Kaya, glancing across at the shipyard. “I do intend to sell eventually, but likely not until after I’ve finished my studies. I’m sure you’ll have saved more than enough before then. And I have no intention of charging you full price.”

“Ah, no handouts. I pay in full or I don’t buy one at all.” Kaya pursed her lips, rolling her eyes at her. “I can and will take my business elsewhere.”

“You’re more stubborn than a bull.” Karimi shrugged a shoulder and nodded in general agreement, and Kaya laughed at that. “Fine. Full price. But I’m sure you’ll have no trouble coming up with the berries.”

She just shrugged again—Karimi had no intention of telling Kaya the nature of her present contract, that she would be working an entire year without pay for the sole sake of ensuring that one of their mutual acquaintances was allowed to continue breathing. Perhaps it was better to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“So.” Karimi smiled as she rolled her eyes over to Kaya. “How have you been faring since the, ah, firing of your most esteemed butler?”

Kaya rolled her eyes at the question, but she chuckled a little. “It’s only been a day,” she reminded Karmi—and the reminder nearly blindsided her again. It still felt like far longer than a single day. “Some of the workers from the shipyard have been kind enough to help around the mansion. I do intend to become more self-sufficient, so I’m helping as much as I can.”

“You should be taking it easy,” said Karimi, frowning. “The bastard was poisoning you for years, you need time to recover.”

“I am taking it easy,” said Kaya lightly, folding her hands together in front of her. “But I also spent far too long confined to constant bed rest, and I would much rather take an active role in my own life now.”

“Fair enough, then.” Karimi smiled at that—a genuine smile, one that she couldn’t hold back. “And more power to you.”

Kaya was another example of Luffy’s influence. For all the years the girl had spent suppressed, that she had spent both literally and figuratively poisoned by the will of another, she was following her dreams now. One brief day of knowing Luffy, and her life was that much better for it. Her life was her own now, freed from suppression, free to follow whatever path she wanted.

There was no question in Karimi’s mind—that kid was going places.

“Your butler was poising you?” Both the girls gave a slight jolt at the question, as if they had forgotten entirely about the warlord following after them, listening to their conversation as they made their way toward the mansion. Karimi glanced back at him, and rolled her eyes at his brief, snide smirk, the same sort of smirk she had directed toward him several times over.

Kaya glanced at her, and then back toward him. “It’s…honestly quite a long story,” she said offhandedly.

“I think we all have time for it.”

She glanced at Karimi, who just shrugged a shoulder. Kaya gave a slow sigh, and slowed her pace for a moment until she was walking level with him. “My parents took in a man and a couple of his friends who claimed to have been marooned here. Hired them onto our staff and…they both passed just over a year later in an accident.” She drew in a slow, deep breath before going on. “My father trusted him implicitly enough to employ him as our butler, and…his trust turned out to be ill-placed. As I discovered only two nights ago.” She lowered her gaze to her feet as they walked. “He was pirate. Or he had been a pirate, and didn’t want to be anymore. He and a couple of his crewmates spent three years poisoning me. Keeping me weak so that no one would suspect anything when I died shortly after my eighteenth birthday and allowed him to inherit my family’s fortune for his own. I would be out of the picture, and he would be looked upon with both pity and admiration for having spent so long caring for me.”

“That…is certainly quite the plan,” said Mihawk quietly—it was difficult not to be impressed by it.

“They didn’t call him Kuro of A Thousand Plans for no reason,” said Karimi, turning around to walk backwards ahead of them as Mihawk’s brow furrowed. He had heard of Kuro—heard that the captain of the Black Cat pirates had been captured years ago. “Seems he somehow managed to fake his death. Made it look like Captain Axe-Hand Morgan took him in. Gave him the freedom to fly under the radar.”

“And I suppose he’s truly dead now?”

“Hard to say.” Karimi gave a shrug. “Luffy gum-gum-belled him through a window on the top floor before anyone could check for a pulse.”

“He…” For a moment, the warlord could do nothing but stare at the girl as if she were speaking in tongues—and she may as well have been. “He did what, exactly?”

“Oh,” she said, grinning, laughing a little, “he stretched his neck out around ten, fifteen feet behind him and then just slammed his head into Kuro’s. Sent him flying through the window. Probably halfway across the East Blue, from the force of it.”

“It was quite the spectacle,” said Kaya, chuckling a little herself.

“It was amazing is what it was. How he didn’t have a headache after that…” Karimi seemed to notice how Mihawk glanced between the two girls, discussing this apparent spectacle as if it were perfectly normal. It could mean only one thing—and Karimi confirmed it only a moment later as her grin widened. “Oh—did your Vice Admiral not mention that? Luffy’s a devil fruit user. Ate one when he was a kid. Made him stretchy.”

Stretchy.

“How…interesting.”

And more than a bit infuriating. Not only had Garp sent him to retrieve his grandson, a boy whose career as a pirate had barely even begun; but the old bastard had also neglected to mention the fact that said boy was a devil fruit user, a fact that would have been valuable to know had Mihawk actually decided to bring him in.

“Er…a Vice Admiral?” Karimi looked over at Kaya when she spoke up uncertainly. “Is…the marine ship anchored off the shore, were they…going after you all?”

“Y…yes,” she admitted, and shrugged a shoulder. “Luffy, more specifically. Evidently Garp has some personal issues with his grandson being a pirate.” Kaya’s eyes widened, a hand flying to her mouth. “But everyone’s fine. Luffy turned himself into a balloon and deflected the cannonball he threw at the ship. That’s why they’re still moored there, I would have to guess. Did a fair bit of damage. We escaped into a fogbank, ended up finding Baratie a few hours later. No harm done.”

Karimi had no intention at all of mentioning that one of their number was on the edge of death when she left them. Kaya was a sweet girl, and she had endured enough trauma of her own over the past few days without having anything else to worry herself over. So for the remainder of their stroll to the mansion, she drew Kaya’s attention away from the troubling news that the small crew was being pursued by a well-known Marine Vice Admiral by telling her about their time at Baratie—the flirty waiter that had shot his shot with both herself and Nami; Luffy ordering one of everything from the menu and then attempting to “put it on his treasure tab,” thus getting roped into washing dishes as compensation instead; Usopp drinking far too much over far too short a period of time and entertaining his fellow bar patrons with his ridiculous stories.

Leaving out the fact that Nami was planning on leaving, and that Karimi herself was now essentially a servant to Zoro’s would-be murderer.

“So…he seems happy, then?” she asked with a smile, walking level with Karimi as they reached the open gates of the mansion. “Usopp. He doesn’t regret leaving?”

“Oh, he’s having the time of his life,” Karimi assured her. “Honestly. It’s going to be a lot harder to tell which of his stories are just tall tales the next time you see him.”

She chuckled at that. “I’m glad to hear it. You’ve all only been away a day and you’ve already done so much, I’m sure he’ll have more stories than he knows what to do with before long.”

“Without a doubt. And it definitely doesn’t take long. I’ve been sailing eight years, but I probably could have written a book within the first two.”

Eight years. That caught Mihawk’s attention as they were greeted at the door by some of the help. Barely an hour ago had the girl claimed to have been working as a mercenary for six years. Either she had just been caught in a lie, or she had been doing something else for two years prior. There would be plenty of time to question her later, of course—and there would be plenty of questions.

But there was one more pressing matter that needed to be addressed first. He already knew Karimi would be of some degree of use to the end of reconnaissance, given her powers; but if she would be taking on contracts given to him by the World Government, he had to be sure that her six years of experience included some degree of aptitude in combat. Anyone could carry around an ornate pair of daggers and strap a belt of throwing knives to their calf.

Using them effectively was another story.

On inquiry about where they might be able to spar—which visibly piqued Karimi’s interest, her eyes widening and brow shooting up toward her dark green fringe—Kaya informed him that they were more than welcome to use the western courtyard. It was large enough, fairly empty of obstacles, and they would have more light as the sun sank down further in the sky.

As promised, the sprawling courtyard was more than large enough. There was a large marble fountain at its center, a few flowerbeds and benches around the perimeter, but otherwise clear enough. Stopping just short of the fountain, around ten feet from the warlord, Karimi set to stretching her arms back behind her and over her head. She paused when he pulled the cross from around his neck and unsheathed his knife, tucking the small scabbard and cord into a pocket in his coat. She tilted her head for a moment, lifting an eyebrow.

“Cute paring knife,” she commented, resuming stretching. “Are we sparring or peeling potatoes?”

Of course she had something smart to say—it seemed she always did. “This,” said Mihawk, extending the small blade out at arm’s length, “will be more than sufficient to assess your ability in combat.” Then, as she drew her daggers and spun them around, assuming a posture that favored offense over defense, “Or lack thereof.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Just sparring or fighting to maim?”

“Both.”

She smirked at his curt reply. “Excellent.”

He held up a hand the second she started to move, and she paused on one foot, lifting her eyebrows. “Your Armament Haki. How proficient are you?”

“At the present I can really only use it to keep my Devil Fruit abilities in check,” she said, shifting back into a fighting stance again.

“Then you will be training to gain better control over it,” he said, “but that will come later. Right now, you will attempt to break through my defense, using any skill at your disposal. Understood?”

“Understood,” she said, waiting, her gaze shifting from his eyes and down to his knife.

“Then you will begin on three.”

Karimi knew she stood absolutely no chance of defeating him. The times she had sparred with Shanks while on his crew, even with him going relatively easy on her, she had never once beaten him—and Mihawk was renowned as an even greater swordsman. His physical strength exceeded hers by miles. Even if he only responded to her attacks defensively, even if he wouldn’t be using Haki himself, even if she lowered hers and let her Devil Fruit abilities help guide her actions, she stood no chance. He only wanted to see how long she could endure, how much damage she could inflict, if any.

“Two—”

And she went on two.

She was sure she saw the swordsman smirk for just a moment as he countered her right blade—and her left just as quickly when she swung it around toward his ribcage, stepping to the side effortlessly when she lowered down and swung a kick toward his ankles.

“I see you don’t fight fair,” he commented, a hint of amusement in the accusation.

“Everything’s fair in a fight.”

So many times had Karimi heard that exact sentiment amid her training with her grandmother, usually before she inevitably ended up flat on her back in their backyard. It had been imbued into her—the likelihood of her enemies fighting fair was slim to none, so it made no sense for her to extend them the courtesy. It didn’t matter either way, where Mihawk was concerned; his defense was ironclad, and just as it had been with her grandmother, her Devil Fruit was essentially useless combating someone with as much experience and skill as the warlord. His counters and movements came with little to no thought at all, finessed to the point that he barely needed to think at all, acting on pure reflex.

Karimi normally prided herself in her agility, but her limits were only human. His seemed to far exceed that.

To him, she was barely more than an annoying fly that he need only swat away once he grew tired of her persistence.

And thus he did after a few minutes, countering one of her daggers with enough force to send her skidding back across the grass. Before she even stopped or straightened her posture, she drew one of her throwing knives and aimed it low toward his legs.

And he caught it by its hilt in midair, flipping it back over his shoulder, where it landed several feet behind him and embedded into the grass and dirt.

Once more, he extended his arm, pointing the knife out toward her, his other arm remaining at his side.

“Again.”

And again, and again, and again. Karimi at least had her patience on her side—growing frustrated would do nothing but make her clumsy, make her attacks less precise and her movements less finessed. Still, physical exhaustion would inevitably have the same effect, and it came far sooner than it usually did. She hadn’t eaten since the previous evening and had spent the vast majority of the night consuming enough alcohol to stock a small pub, after all; she was likely bordering on dehydration.

A poorly timed block on her own part left her with a cut across her left cheek, left her pinned to the wall of the mansion with one of his arms across her collarbone. The point of his small blade was poised the center of her throat, her chest rising and falling heavily and her heart pounding, the cut across her cheek stinging as sweat dripped down from her temple and into the open wound.

By the position of the sun in the sky, no more than an hour had passed. She swore under her breath at that, sitting down heavily against the wall when he took a step back.

“Again.”

“Oh, goddammit.” She laughed breathlessly, shaking her head as she tilted it back against the wall. “I’m just about spent.”

“I will decide when we’re finished.”

Of course he would. Karimi grimaced as she pulled herself to her feet, as he crossed the yard and pulled her throwing knife out of the ground, tossing over so it landed at her feet.

“Now, then…”

And once more, he extended his knife, waiting for her to collect herself, his sharp yellow eyes glued to her.

“Again.”

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

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