#EVERY TIME I SEE PURPLE AND ORANGE COLORS TOGETHER MY MIND JUST-

[spase2axolotl]

DJ AND ALAN!!!!!

[wisecura]

Sweeter

SatoSugu x f!Reader p.1 - 4k (technically SFW, but the next chapter not so much)

summary: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

an: thank you for this request! I've definitely dabbled in this concept before, and I have plans to do another similar to this but a lot meaner. I really like the color orange.

MINORS DNI AFTER HERE warnings: pwp (lots of plot, lots of porn), small age gap (first year and third years - no sex between minors), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, immature (sheltered) reader,

and a part 2?

“What kind of man is your type?” 

You stare in stunned silence, the question barely registering in your head. Seriously, it was just your second day at Jujutsu Tech, and here you were, face-to-face with possibly the two hottest guys you'd ever laid eyes on. 

And they're clearly having some kind of fun with the newbie. Is this some sort of unofficial welcome ritual for underclassmen or just plain old hazing?

That's one hell of a question to drop on someone, especially since, if you really had to choose, your type would probably be a perfect mix of the two heartthrobs standing in front of you. I mean, come on, they were drop-dead gorgeous—definitely not the type you’d expect to bump into in a high school corridor. They looked more like they'd walked off a fashion shoot or something.

"Yo—" You choked on your words, and you quickly turned your head, feeling your cheeks warm up with a shy blush.

“Uhm…my kind of man? I like someone who’s strong...and, uhm…hot.”

The white-haired one hummed thoughtfully, sharing a quick glance with Mr. Manbun. His eyes were the bluest you'd ever seen, flashing even behind his glasses. And the other's eyes—were they actually purple? Is that even a natural eye color?

Their silent exchange felt like an entire conversation, and somehow, it encouraged you to keep going.

"I-I mean like muscular? Wait no—more like, a lifelong partner? Someone who can take care of me—a good listener, y’know?"

As you rambled on, you could feel your cheeks burning up, and you shuffled your feet, unable to stand still. They both chuckled at your nervousness, catching you off guard—and then, they finally introduced themselves.

"I'm Satoru Gojo," said one with a wink that sent your heart racing.

"And I'm Suguru Geto," added the other, his voice so deep that you found yourself looking away.

They didn't explain the earlier questioning, but whatever test they had in mind, you must've passed with flying colors. From that day on, Satoru and Suguru seemed to appear just about everywhere you went.

You hadn't expected to see them much after that initial interaction, but they seemed to show up in the weirdest places. You’d see them walking in the hallways, despite their classes being across the school, near vending machines that you frequented, and even by the park you sat at with your classmates. 

And soon enough, they started 'accidentally' stumbling into your classes, drawing exasperated sighs from your teachers as they casually plopped down on either side of you. Interjecting themselves into the conversations you had, placing themselves into every facet of your life–present in every second of your free time. You couldn’t even feign surprise when they began showing up at your training sessions, taking a special interest in your improvements as a sorcerer. 

"Need a sparring partner?" Satoru flashed an easy grin as he slung an arm casually across your shoulders–another new development you noticed since they began seeing you more often: the touches. Suguru was never far behind, within fingers' length. Inches away, never as touchy as Satoru, but he had his moments. Whether it was both Satoru and Suguru together or just one of them, you could always expect not to be alone. 

And after asking around–hearing the whispers from those around you, you learned that Satoru and Suguru were the strongest in the school. It wasn't just impressive—it was downright intimidating. Satoru, in particular, was regarded as the strongest of his generation, a reputation that added an extra layer of awe—and pressure—to your interactions. 

You, hailing from a small, conservatively raised clan, couldn’t help but feel like you were playing in an entirely different league.

Before coming to school, your knowledge of cursed techniques was minimal at best. Your clan, lacking the wealth and influence of the more prominent families, hadn’t provided much in the way of advanced training. In fact, the notion of attending an actual school, rather than being homeschooled like many others in your clan, took everyone by surprise—especially you.

In your clan, the rules for girls were pretty clear-cut: get married and start having kids as soon as you hit eighteen. The cultural expectations had always hovered over you like a predetermined fate, yet you'd begged and begged anyways. And here you were—after many threats to refuse marriage, to run away, threatening to do the most drastic things—finally at school.

That to say, your clan wasn't much for affectionate and loving gestures. You'd never known close friendships, and you had no clue how to interact with the two. Yet despite this, Satoru and Suguru were ridiculously warm and almost overly affectionate towards you. They weren't just friendly; they took it to another level—constantly teasing you, never enough to push you away–just enough to make you flush red and smack an arm or two. 

They were like your personal bodyguards, stepping in to shield you from what they thought were unfair missions, always keeping an eye out during your training sessions or interactions with the higher ups. They even went as far as syncing their schedules with yours—just so they could be there for you whenever you needed.They always made sure to include you in their conversations, valued your opinions, and weren't shy about asking plenty of personal questions, drawing you into their circle so effortlessly–it felt like you'd always been a part of the duo. And despite the gap in experience and power, they never made you feel lesser, or spoke down to you.

When it came to physical affection, they never shied away from it–hugs quickly became the norm—just another part of your daily interactions. Almost as frequent as the lingering touches that seemed to pop up out of nowhere, the casual sharing of food and drinks, and those silly moments when they’d playfully feed you a bite of their lunch or coax you into sitting on their laps, arms wrapped around your waist. 

And honestly, you didn’t mind their presence much. Despite the constant teasing, the constant presence in your life, and the overt clinginess, you really couldn't compare it with anything else–so you chalked it down to normal. Growing up in a clan that wasn’t big on hugs and kisses, you kind of assumed their touchy-feely behavior was just how friends acted, so you didn’t make a big deal about it—even when they would get really close, snuggling into the crook of your neck, or planting small pecks in random places. Normal. This was normal. 

And it worked that way for a while... It wasn’t until some of your classmates pointed out how odd it seemed that you were so close to the untouchable duo. How they hadn't shown much interest in anyone else, and from afar it looked more like they were caring for a well groomed pet than a  friend. 

You tried to fit in, not wanting to be seen as the odd one out by your classmates, and as you grew more self-conscious, you did start to pull back a bit. But the more you retreated, the more pushy they became–your dynamic so intertwined with your everyday life, it was like pulling teeth.

You found yourself constantly dodging the snacks they pushed toward your mouth, slipping out from under the arms they kept throwing around your shoulders. You even started keeping details about your life more guarded, trying to maintain some personal space. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself, Satoru and Suguru had grown too attached, finally deciding to confront you about your newfound evasiveness when they couldn’t take it anymore.

As you once again shrugged off another arm from your shoulder, Satoru and Suguru halted, turning to you with a look of concern. "What’s up with you lately? You seem really tense. Is something bothering you?"

Satoru’s voice carried the softness of genuine concern, but there was a deliberate persistence behind his words. Probing, searching. Suguru joined in, his tone echoing Satoru's worry, yet there was a subtle tint to sound teasing, not wanting to ruin the good mood. "You’ve been pretty distant lately. It’s not like you. You're not feeling left out, are you?"

As you tried to put more space between you and them, voicing that you just didn't feel good, Satoru pulled you slightly closer, his grip firm, as if to physically manifest a will for you to stop pulling away. "Look, if something’s wrong, you should tell us. We’re your friends, we’re here for you. 

And this is what finally led to you opening up about the comments your friends were making, but now Satoru and Suguru were visibly upset. You knew Satoru well enough to expect his dramatic flair—he was always the louder, more expressive one. But Suguru? His irritation was something you hadn't seen before. 

"They’re saying what now? So, your little 'friends' are harassing you? Is that it?" Suguru’s voice was icy, his eyebrows knitting together in a rare show of displeasure. You couldn’t picture the words coming from his lips, but here they were. 

“Hmpf” a puzzled look crossing your face, “I wouldn’t say harassed, just—“ 

“Oh c’mon, princess, you don’t need to defend them,” Satoru interjected quickly, pulling you close, settling you into his lap with a swift motion. You stumbled slightly but found stability as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, losing the desire to really pull back. 

"You know, we're just looking out for you," Satoru continued, his voice softening, rubbing his chin over your head like an overgrown cat. "People can get the wrong idea, but they don't understand how close we are."

Suguru nodded, "Exactly. It’s normal for us, right? This is how we've always been with each other. They just aren't part of our circle, are they?"

After that conversation, you hardly heard a peep from anyone else about your friendship with the two. The only difference in your relationship between you three, seemed to be the fact that the two became even more relentlessly clingy. 

They began popping up on your dual missions,  offering help so you could 'finish up faster,' only to whisk you away for yet another impromptu bakery date.  Picking up things from their missions, using the money they had to buy you expensive presents, always ensuring you took care of yourself. They spoiled you rotten,and really, you couldn’t find it in your heart to be annoyed—they were just so committed to keeping you safe and well-fed. And If they said your friendship was normal, then who should you believe?

They were super protective, almost to a fault. No one else was really allowed to hang with your little crew without getting some serious side-eye or a snappy comment from them. It felt like they saw everyone else as the enemy, but when it came to you, they couldn’t be sweeter. Their teasing tone only got more flirty and affectionate by the day.

The touches become more firm, no longer small or lingering, but firm and almost commanding. A clear message to the people around you, yet you never really paid attention.

You tried to give back what they gave, not wanting to be a bad friend or seem distant. And they only seemed to encourage it—sometimes pulling your wrist over to feed them, playfully licking your finger. They leaned into your head pats, one would always nudge you closer to the other, both soaking up your warmth. Even Suguru seemed more affectionate, somewhat taking after Satoru. Their hugs became even tighter, pulling you in close to inhale your scent from your neck, sending small shivers down your neck.

You sort of felt bad. Here were your friends, interacting how they normally would, and here you were–developing these…feelings. Inappropriate thoughts that you refused to share. They interacted as affectionately to each other as they did with you–so you knew for a fact they were not having the same thoughts as you. So you ignore it. Hoping it'll go away.  

By the time you rolled into your second year, you really started to get a handle on the social hierarchy. Jujutsu Society was just as stiff and formal as your own family, something you hadn't fully grasped until Satoru started pointing out its many flaws. He was the heir to the Gojo clan, and he was constantly venting about how he was being pressured to take over next year—a role he was definitely not excited about. 

He'd go on and on about how they were always on his case, trying to push him this way and that. But given his reputation as the strongest around—it was pretty clear that Satoru wasn't the type to be pushed into anything he didn’t want to do.

Your two best friends were about to finish high school, and the looming thought of their departure was a tough pill to swallow. You’d grown incredibly close, digging deep into each other’s lives, and the mere thought of saying goodbye felt like a punch to the gut. They reassured you, of course, promising that you’d always stay in touch. But deep down, you knew better. 

Your family's strict rules meant the only real freedom you had was at school. And if they weren't coming back to school, the chances of seeing them after you graduated were slim to none, especially with the looming prospect of your arranged marriage hanging over your head.

And when they finally did leave, you tried to keep up with your usual routine, but it just wasn’t the same without them around. Sure, your phone buzzed with texts from them, and you were all active in your group chat, but real updates on their lives came in dribs and drabs. You missed them terribly.

Every summer break after they graduated, they’d send you invites to hang out, but with your super conservative family keeping tight reins, you could never make it out of the estate. It was incredibly frustrating, feeling trapped while imagining your friends out there, having a blast and probably moving on without you.

And by your fourth year, whispers about your upcoming marriage began circulating around the clan house, causing bouts of panic and desperation creeping up in you. Suffice to say, you were far from thrilled with the idea. Dreaming of becoming a full-fledged sorcerer, going out on missions, and making a difference, you had bigger plans than just settling down as a homemaker for some clan member you hardly knew. 

Yet, family tradition cast a long shadow over your life, always nudging you towards doing what was expected, not what you desired. The thought of just following along without making your own choices really got to you, but what choice did you really have?

Then, out of nowhere, that fateful day crashed upon you. 

Your mother burst into your room, her eyes alight with a mix of glee and anticipation, an expression so foreign to her usually stoic demeanor. She was practically skipping as she waved an envelope in the air, her excitement out of place in the somber and bleak context that was  your life at the moment.

"The Gojo clan! We’ve received a letter from the Gojo clan. Your marriage has officially been arranged!" she squealed, a sound so uncharacteristic it almost didn't seem real.

You stood there, shell-shocked, as her words reverberated through the sparsely decorated confines of your room. This couldn't be right. There must be some mistake, or perhaps it was another Gojo clan, not the Gojo that you knew all too well. Couldn't be. 

As you mulled over her announcement, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of confusion and disbelief, and as if the universe itself had scripted the moment, your phone lit up. You glanced down, heart skipping a beat. "Gojo Satoru" flashed across the screen, dragging you back into a harsh reality. 

A message from him now? It seemed like some cruel cosmic joke was unfolding right before your eyes.

The day you were to meet the Gojo clan finally arrived, with the sun shining brightly, its cheerfulness almost mocking the storm of emotions roiling inside you. 

Dressed to the nines at your mother's behest, each step toward the Gojo clan estate felt unbearably heavy. A sense of foreboding gnawed at you—details about your future husband were alarmingly sparse. 

Your attempts to glean more information had been futile. Satoru's responses over the last week were disturbingly evasive, skillfully sidestepping your questions. And surprisingly, Suguru hadn’t mentioned anything either, which was odd considering how close you had all become. The silence from both him and Satoru not only heightened your anxiety but also stirred a mix of suspicion and unease. 

 You'd think your marriage would strike some kind of reaction from the two. Not even a congratulations was sent–not that you wanted one. It begged the question. Were they intentionally keeping something from you? Did they know something you didn't? 

As you approached the grand entrance of the Gojo estate, your heart thudded painfully in your chest. The overwhelming anxiety about your unclear future was one thing, but a deeper sense of betrayal cut even more sharply. 

Stepping through the towering doors of the Gojo residence, you were immediately struck by the opulence that greeted you. 

The extravagance of the foyer, with its traditional/modern vibe and gleaming wooden floors, was a stark contrast to the modest, basic estate you had grown up in. You entered the room with your head down, following closely behind your mother, just as you were taught. Today was the day you were supposed to meet the man you were going to marry. 

Your mom led the way to a low-rise table, sitting to your left, your dad taking a quiet seat to your right. The room was filled with the sound of impatient fingers drumming on the table, which nudged you to sneak a cautious glance upward to the source of the noise.

There, dressed in his ceremonial blue robes, sat Satoru, his presence alone enough to make your heart skip a beat. You hadn't seen him in months, barely heard a peep from him, yet here he was. In all his handsome glory. It didn't really hit you until he leaned in, casually throwing out with a sly smirk, “Is this my new pretty little wife?” He was obviously playing, but boy, did those words land with a thud.

Your father, completely oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside you, beamed with unabashed pride. He quickly jumped in with introductions, puffing out his chest as he announced, “This is my daughter,” as though marrying you off to the Gojos was his crowning achievement. You noticed a few other clan members–likely from the Gojo clan, chatting away with your parents. 

As you sat there, trying to make sense of how rapidly your life was pivoting, the room seemed to spin. Everyone around you—your family, the Gojos—seemed ecstatic about the arrangement. Yet, you felt as if you were observing the scene from outside your own body, detached and overwhelmed.

Satoru's behavior, once so familiar and easy, now felt oddly formal, adding to the surreal nature to the whole affair. He was professional, stern, yet friendly. And despite the formalities, he seemed to pick up on your discomfort. Leaning in slightly, he lowered his voice, a genuine note creeping in as he asked, “So, what do you think?” His eyes, intense and searching, met yours across the chatter-filled table. It was a subtle gesture, but it was enough to show he was at least aware of the shock you were experiencing.

Finding words felt like navigating a minefield, caught as you were between your family's expectations and the bizarre reality of potentially marrying someone you actually knew—as a friend. Upsetting him. Upsetting your family. "It's... a lot to take in," you managed to whisper back, your voice barely audible.

Satoru nodded, his usual smirk softening into a more empathetic smile, a hand finding yours form across the table, going unnoticed. "We'll figure this out,” his tone was almost promising. The dynamic hanging heavy between the two of you, as your mind filled with every question under the sun. 

Around you, the discussion continued unabated, your parents and the Gojos merrily planning away, oblivious to the subtle exchange between you and Satoru. Talk of wedding dates, ceremonial specifics, and the merging of two influential clans dominated the conversation, each phrase further solidifying the daunting reality of your situation.

As you listened, a part of you wanted to rebel, to shout that you weren’t just some pawn in a clan alliance. Yet, another part of you understood the importance of this union, not just for you but for everyone involved. The conflict left you feeling torn, unsure of whether to follow your heart or fulfill the role that had been chosen for you.

As the meeting wrapped up, Satoru stood and extended a hand to help you up, your parents smiling beside you, nudging you to follow. "Let's take a walk," he suggested with a gentle nod toward the gardens. "We need to talk, just the two of us."

Relieved to step away from the oppressive atmosphere of the meeting, you took Satoru's hand, letting him guide you out into the soothing fresh air. As you walked beside him, the gardens of the Gojo estate offered a serene backdrop to the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind. Here, away from the prying eyes and ears, you wanted to ask him. 

Why? What was going on? Why was he extending an offer to your family for your hand in marriage?

As soon as you were out of sight, hidden by the lush greenery of the Gojo estate's gardens, Satoru's demeanor changed. He quickly pulled you into a hug, his grip firm, unrelenting, as if a man deprived of oxygen, and a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "I missed you," he said, his voice a blend of jest and something you couldn’t quite place—was it relief?

The sudden closeness startled you, ramping up the anxiety already swirling inside you. “Satoru, why are you doing this? What would Suguru think?” you blurted out, your voice tinged with panic. You weren’t sure why exactly Suguru sprang to mind, but memories of recent texts in your group chat flickered through your thoughts. Was he in on Satoru’s plans? Did he support this unexpected turn in your relationship dynamic? Did he even know?—

Satoru pulled back slightly, his gaze narrowing into a frown that bordered on annoyance—a look you had never seen directed at you. “This was both of our ideas,” he revealed nonchalantly, as if the joint decision should ease your mind. His casual dismissal of your concerns stung, and his next words cut even deeper, tone boarding on mean. “What? Would you rather have another man marry you?”

His question stopped you cold. Was this really all for your benefit? Or was there something else at play here? Why the harsh tone? Was he upset? 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts. The idea of marrying someone you didn't know at all, someone outside of this circle you’d grown to trust—even if it was in a bizarre, unconventional way—seemed far worse. “No,” you finally said, your voice soft but certain. “I guess you’re better than someone else.”

Satoru’s face softened at your acceptance, never releasing his hold on you. He melted into you, hands clenching at your sides, “We thought so too,” he murmured, the word ‘we’ making you catch your breath—the implication clear as day. This was planned, and this was for you. But it sounded almost like he was trying to reassure both himself and you. “Look, I know this is all kind of weird, and it’s happening fast, but Suguru and I—we’ve got you. We’re not going to let anything bad happen.”

His words did settle some of your fears, and you relaxed into him. They were familiar, and you knew Satoru pretty well, and despite the strangeness of their proposal, you couldn't imagine being in this situation with anyone else. Maybe it would be alright?

“Let’s figure this out together, okay?” Satoru’s voice now held a sincerity that pierced through the remaining doubts. “Just give us a chance to make this work. For all of us.”

As you nodded, still processing the whirlwind of emotions, you realized that this might just be your best option. 

Hand in hand, you walked back to the house with Satoru. The discussions that followed were a blur, and before long, a date for the marriage was set.

and a part 2?

come home, this one has a second home

[writingforstraykids]

Letters Of Love - Chan🖤

Pairing: Chan x gn!Reader (poly!skz)

Word Count: 978

Summary: Your anniversary with your beloved boys makes you think of how to show them how much you love them best. Soon, you settle on sending them a message and picture in relation to one of your favorite days spent with them - starting with a sunset beach walk with Channie.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, poly!skz

A/N: Happy one year, guys🤭🥳🖤🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

You sit comfortably on the oversized sofa in the living room, your legs tucked beneath you as a soft throw blanket drapes over your shoulders. The house is quiet except for the soft hum of the evening outside. The warm, ambient light from a lamp nearby casts a golden glow on your laptop screen as you scroll through your photo library, smiling at the memories that flash before your eyes.

The idea had come to you a few days ago, sparked by a simple desire to celebrate the bond you share with each of the boys. With your anniversary around the corner, you wanted to do something meaningful—not grand or flashy, but something that speaks to the heart of what they all mean to you. So, you decided to put together a collection of messages, each paired with a favorite photo of yours. One for each of them.

It’s not just about celebrating the years spent together, but a way to show them how much every single moment counts—how deeply woven into your life they’ve become. It’s easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of life, schedules, and everything in between, but when you sit down and look back at these snapshots, the memories are filled with so much warmth that it almost makes you tear up.

Each picture carries its own story, a unique reminder of shared smiles, whispered conversations, and unexpected adventures. It feels like the perfect way to say, “I remember. I see you. And I treasure these moments more than words can say.”

Choosing where to start wasn’t easy, but in the end, you settled on Chan. Leader. Rock. One of your favorite people. The one who somehow always knows exactly how to make you feel heard and seen. Your eyes linger on one particular image that makes your heart flutter—a photograph of a breathtaking sunset on a secluded beach.

The sky is painted with vivid hues of orange, pink, and deep purple, casting a magical light across the gentle waves lapping at the shore. In the foreground, Chan is beside you, his broad smile lighting up the scene as much as the setting sun. He’s looking at the camera, but his body is slightly angled toward you, as if caught in a moment of joy, mid-laughter. His tousled hair frames his face, the salty breeze lifting it slightly, and his eyes crinkle warmly, filled with a playful energy and contentment. The two of you are barefoot, shoes forgotten somewhere in the sand, and you’re holding hands, your arm swinging lightly as if you’d just been spinning around together, giddy from the beauty of the evening and each other's presence.

You can almost hear the sound of his voice from that day—the way he kept pointing out how the colors of the sky matched your favorite shade of coral or how he’d sneakily race you to the water’s edge just to let the waves catch you by surprise. It was one of those spontaneous days, a perfect pocket of time when everything aligned, and all that mattered was the way the world seemed to slow down around the two of you.

The day had started unassumingly, with a casual suggestion from Chan to go for a drive after a long day of work. There had been no real destination in mind until you noticed the telltale sparkle of sunlight reflecting off the distant waves. Without a second thought, he turned the car toward the coast. When you arrived, the beach was nearly empty—just you, him, and the endless expanse of sand and sea. As the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky with the most brilliant shades, you both kicked off your shoes and wandered along the shoreline. You talked about everything and nothing—dreams, music, life, and silly inside jokes that had the two of you bursting into laughter.

As the colors deepened and the first stars peeked through, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Just you, him, and the rhythm of the waves. It was then that he set up the camera timer, capturing that perfect image, your smiles forever frozen against the backdrop of the sun-kissed sky.

The smile on your lips softens as you relive the memory, fingers hovering over the keyboard. You take a deep breath and begin to type out a message for Chan, the words flowing easily from your heart. He’s someone who would understand the significance of this little project of yours—your way of saying, “I’m grateful. For you, for us, for all the tiny pieces that have come together to build this beautiful mosaic of memories.”

Message to Channie Baby🖤:

Hey Channie,

I came across this picture today, and it made me think of one of my favorite memories with you. Remember that sunset beach stroll? The way you just decided to take us there on a whim? I think that’s one of the things I love most about you—the way you turn ordinary moments into something unforgettable.

That evening, I remember feeling like everything was just… right. The world seemed quieter, softer, and it was like we had all the time in the world just to be ourselves. I know we’ve had so many amazing experiences together, but something about that day stands out to me. Maybe it’s because it felt so simple, just us, the ocean, and the sky. But it’s one of those moments that I’ll always cherish.

Thank you for always making life brighter, for your laughter and for the way you see beauty in everything. I’m so grateful to have you by my side—not just during sunsets, but every single day.

Happy anniversary, Channie. Here’s to many more sunsets together.

Love you, always.

Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@zehina @atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @theo4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @dis-trict9 @minh0scat @jinnie-ret @5starluvr @slutforchanlix

[onlinesuzie]

can u write something about you and hamzah being apart and missing each other?? 😮‍💨😮‍💨🫶

♡ hamzah misses you ♡

words: 1.6k

genre: FLUFF!!

summary: Hamzah misses you a lot.

notes: guys i literally just needed an excuse to make hamzah the most cringe rom com man in the world.

☆

Hamzah couldn’t stop thinking about you. All day, thoughts of you filled his mind, he missed every part of you. It had only been a few days since you last saw each other, but to him, it felt like it was far too long. The warmth of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the way you always seemed to know how to make him laugh—he missed it all.

Hamzah was used to being busy. His days were often filled with filming and editing for slushy noobz. But today, even the excitement of a new video idea couldn’t distract him from how much he missed you. Sitting in his apartment, surrounded by cameras and editing equipment, he found it impossible to focus on anything else. Every glance at his phone, every moment of silence, brought him back to the same thought: I miss her.

Finally, as the afternoon sun began to go down, Hamzah made a decision. He closed his laptop, grabbed his keys, and left his apartment early. His audience would understand if the next video came out a little later than usual. Right now, there was something more important—someone more important—that he needed to see.

As he walked through the door, the rich scent of fresh flowers enveloped him. He scanned the colorful array, his eyes finally settling on a bouquet of your favorite flowers—soft pink roses mixed with delicate white lilies. He smiled to himself, knowing how much you would love them.

With the flowers in hand, Hamzah made his way to your favorite restaurant. The familiar smells of spices and freshly cooked dishes greeted him as he entered. He ordered a selection of your favorite meals, making sure to get everything just right. Once the food was packed up, he hurried to his car, excitement bubbling up inside him. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you opened the door.

By the time he reached your house, the sky was painted with shades of orange and purple. His heart raced as he walked up to your front door, balancing the bouquet and the bags of food. He took a deep breath, hoping you’d be as happy to see him as he was to see you. Then, with a slight shake in his hand, he knocked.

You opened the door, and the moment your eyes met his, his nerves melted away. A smile spread across your face, lighting up the dimming evening. "Hamzah!" you exclaimed, surprised but clearly delighted. He handed you the flowers with a shy grin.

"I missed you so much," he said simply, his voice filled with genuine kindness. "And I thought maybe we could spend some time together?"

Your eyes softened as you took the flowers, their sweet fragrance filling the space between you. "You didn’t have to, Hamzah but I’m so happy I could cry," you replied, stepping aside to let him in. "These are so so so beautiful. Thank you so much."

Before Hamzah could respond, you leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I’ve missed you too, but don’t tell anyone" you whispered, your lips grazing his skin.

Hamzah’s smile grew, his eyes sparkling with affection. "I, um, also brought you something else, to you know.. eat!" he added, holding up the bags. "I wasn’t sure what you’d like today, so I got a little bit of everything."

"You are so cringe sometimes Hamzah," you laughed, leading him into the living room. "Well come on my loser! Let’s set up in here and eat ‘cause I am actually starving."

Inside, you both moved to the living room, where Hamzah set the food on the coffee table. You brought out a couple of blankets, draping them over the couch as he unpacked the containers. The room quickly filled with the savory scents of the meal. You laughed softly as you saw he’d ordered all your favorites, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at how happy this boy makes you.

"How was editing today, my love?" you asked as you both sat down, plates in hand.

"It was okay, there was a lot we had to cut today though because Martin kept doing weird dances and for his ego i just could not release that," Hamzah replied, giving you a warm look. "I couldn’t stop thinking about you thought, so I decided to come see you. I hope you don’t mind."

"Of course, I don’t mind," you said, touched by his honesty. "I’ve missed you too. It’s been such a long week, and being with you is exactly what I needed."

As you ate, you couldn’t stop sharing glances at each other. It was as if no time had passed at all since you last saw each other. You told him stories from your insane week, laughed at jokes from the past, and fell into comfortable silence between bites, simply enjoying the company.

"Remember that time we got lost trying to find that restaurant?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips.

Hamzah smiled. "How could I forget? We wandered around for an entire hour before you realized we were on the wrong street the whole time.

"At least we eventually found it," you teased. "And the food was so worth it."

"Well.. I wouldn’t say it was truly worth it," he agreed. "But either way I think tonight’s food might be even better. But maybe and just maybe, it’s just the company."

"See, you are so cringe you idiot," you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. "But I guess you’re right, if i had to confess."

Hamzah laughed softly, and as you both finished your meal, he leaned in closer, his eyes locking with yours. "Oh! You’ve got something," he said surprised, his voice teasing as he pointed to your lips.

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? What?" You began wiping at your face.

"Stop, let me get it for you," he said, his tone playful. Before you could respond, Hamzah leaned in and kissed you, his lips brushing over yours in a tender moment. You felt your face glow red, warmth spreading through you as you kissed him back.

When he pulled away, his smile was soft, and his eyes were full of affection. "There," he whispered, "I think it’s all gone now."

You laughed, pushing him away from you. "You’re way too much, you know that?"

"Only for you," he replied, pretending to be hurt.

After dinner, Hamzah suggested watching a movie. You agreed, scrolling through the options until you found something you both liked. The lights were dim, and the only glow in the room came from the TV as the film began. You curled up next to him on the couch, wrapping the blanket around you both. Hamzah draped his muscular arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. The steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle rise and fall of his chest under your head made you feel safe and so happy.

As the movie played, you found yourself more focused on the way Hamzah’s fingers gently traced patterns on your arm than on the plot. You turned your head slightly to look up at him, catching the soft smile on his lips as he watched the screen. His happiness was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile, too.

"You know," you whispered during a quiet moment in the movie, "I’m really glad you came over tonight. I didn’t realize how much I needed this, even if that means I have the most embarrassing boyfriend in the world."

Hamzah looked down at you, his expression tender. "Me too. I was worried you might be busy, but I just couldn’t stay away."

"You’re always welcome here, Hamzah," you replied, resting your head back on his shoulder. "Anytime."

Hamzah leaned down and kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with comfort. "That means a lot to me."

The movie eventually ended, but neither of you moved. You were too comfortable, too content to let the moment slip away. It was only when you glanced at the clock that you realized how late it had gotten. Hamzah noticed, too, and for a moment, there was a pause—neither of you wanting the night to end.

"Stay," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want you to go."

Hamzah didn’t hesitate. "I’d love to," he replied, his smile widening. "I didn’t really want to leave anyway."

"Good," you said, standing up and offering your hand to him. "Come on, let’s get ready for bed."

"Sounds perfect," Hamzah agreed, taking your hand and following you. "This has been the best night I’ve had in a long time."

As you led him to your bedroom, Hamzah gently pulled you to a stop, turning you to face him. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. "I’m really glad I came over," he said, his voice low and full of emotion.

Before you could respond, Hamzah leaned in, capturing your lips in a heartfelt kiss. It was soft and unhurried, full of the emotions he couldn’t quite put into words. You melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer, enjoying the moment.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but your smiles were wide.

"Me too," you whispered, your forehead resting against his.

You both got ready for bed, the routine now familiar and comforting. When you finally lay down, Hamzah pulled you close, his arm wrapped protectively around you. You nestled into his embrace, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart against your back.

"Goodnight," he whispered into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Goodnight, Hamzah," you murmured back, your voice filled with contentment. Before you drifted off to sleep, you turned in his arms to face him, giving him one last sweet kiss on the lips.

[bananababblegigglemuffin]

Night Time

Note: fluffy smut not really smut. bTW LOGANS PERSPECTIVE

The room was hushed, save for the faint whispers of the television playing Moulin Rouge. It was three in the morning, yet here we were, wide awake. I could feel the warmth of your body against mine, each breath bringing me closer to peace — or as close as I’d ever get. Insomnia was second nature to us both, though for different reasons. My mind often drifted to battles and old memories, while you, love, seemed to be up for an entirely different reason. A reason that, right now, was wrapped around my waist.

"So, sweetheart, what’s got you so giddy tonight?" I teased, nudging you slightly, hoping for one of those infectious smiles that lit up even my darkest hours.

“Well, Lo,” you began, a mischievous glint in your eyes, “I went shopping today with Jean and Storm. You should’ve seen the dress I found. It’s this amazing burnt orange tulle dress — the perfect shade for fall! But I don't have anywhere to wear it…”

Ah, your voice had that lilting disappointment, the kind that made me want to punch a hole through anything keeping you from your happiness. But this was a problem I could fix. “Well, Bub, how about I take you out this Saturday?” I offered, hoping to see that look of surprise in your eyes.

“THIS SATURDAY? YES PLEASE!” you almost squealed, practically bouncing in place. It reminded me of a kid in a candy store, and I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. Watching you light up like that was damn near one of my favorite sights.

“God, that means I've got two days!” you gasped, pulling yourself off my chest, looking as though you were about to pull off some high-stakes operation. I propped myself up, watching you dart across the room with all the energy of a firecracker. You opened the closet and then cast a glance back at me, that sly little smirk of yours.

“I know that look, babe,” I chuckled. “Of course I want a show! I’d be a real hoser to decline, sweet cheeks.”

You slipped on the dress and twirled around to show it off. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. The dress was perfect — understated up top with full sleeves, its burnt orange color dotted with delicate purple flowers that practically screamed autumn. But it was the bottom that took my breath away. You looked like some kind of goddess, moving like a whisper across the room.

“Give me a 360, babe,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. You turned, and that’s when I saw it — the low, daring U-cut in the back, held together by barely-there crisscross laces. My breath hitched. You were a vision, and the cool room air only enhanced the way your skin glowed.

“Oh, goddess, you've got me weak in the knees here," I murmured, my voice a little rougher. "Come back here. I need to worship you.”

You giggled but obliged, slipping out of the dress and crawling back into bed, pressing yourself into the white comforter like an angel. My hands found your bare back, fingers trailing patterns along your skin. I was lost, drawn to your scent, breathing it in as I nestled into the curve of your neck. I brushed over you, feeling every little reaction beneath my fingertips. “Lo, you’re so nice,” you murmured, and I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped.

“I’m nice to you, love,” I whispered, more truth than any promise I’d ever made.

"Okay, enough of that. Let me help you this time," you said, pulling yourself up and straddling my back before I could argue. You settled yourself just right, leaning down and pressing your hands against my shoulders, kneading with a surprising strength. I could feel every curve of you, and it was enough to make me bite back a groan.

“Turn over, wolfie,” you giggled, a sparkle in your eye as you leaned in. I gave a little grumble. "Baby, you don't have to do this," I insisted, knowing full well how stubborn you could be. But you'd made up your mind, and I knew resistance was futile.

I turned, letting you position yourself above me, and couldn’t help but feel the warmth of you as you applied lotion, massaging my shoulders, working your way down to my chest. Your touch was slow, deliberate, and I was practically melting into the bed beneath you. I could feel every bit of you pressing against me, warming me, leaving me in a state I could barely describe.

You moved slowly, massaging my biceps, and even my hands, taking your time as you knew well how to do. My hands slid up to your waist, resting there, simply feeling the rhythm of your movements. The closeness, the heat, it was everything I’d ever wanted and never thought I’d deserve.

Then, just when I thought I’d have a moment to breathe, you shifted, sliding down a bit lower, your hands exploring down my abs. “Sweetheart, this is supposed to help me sleep,” I muttered, feeling the low rumble of laughter in my chest. But you just smiled that mischievous smile, your fingers never slowing as they traced the lines of my chest, inch by inch.

Your fingers teased at my skin, each stroke soft but intentional, a reminder that you knew exactly how to drive me wild. Every touch felt like a jolt of electricity, something I could feel down to my core. And when you met my eyes with that sly grin, that sparkle of confidence, it nearly undid me.

My breath hitched as you leaned forward, lips grazing my neck, barely a whisper against my skin. The world outside was silent, but inside this room, it felt like we were galaxies away, locked in some kind of cosmic, timeless dance. I wrapped my arms around your waist, pulling you closer, feeling every part of you pressed against me.

“You’re really trying to get me into trouble, aren’t you, sweetheart?” I muttered, grinning as I tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You just giggled, your cheeks flushed with that look of mischief that was so perfectly you. “You’re the trouble, Logan,” you whispered back, running your fingers over the scar on my shoulder, tracing its path, knowing it like a map you’d memorized.

There was something about these late hours, these shared, stolen moments. The way you looked at me, the way you didn’t shy away from any part of me—the rough edges, the scars, the parts of me that even I couldn’t stand. With you, it all seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a warmth that ran deeper than anything I’d ever known. I tilted your chin up, meeting your gaze, and in that instant, I felt completely bare—no defenses, no walls. Just us.

“Do you even know how dangerous you are, darlin’?” I asked, running my thumb across your cheek, brushing against that soft, flawless skin. “You’ve got me wrapped around that little finger of yours, and you don’t even know it.”

You just smiled, your hands slipping into mine, fingers intertwining. “You’re my dangerous one,” you whispered back. And then, in that calm, quiet moment, you leaned down, pressing your lips to mine. The kiss was soft, unhurried, the kind of kiss that felt like it could last forever. I could feel every ounce of your love, your care, in that single touch.

Our breaths mingled as the kiss deepened, the world outside fading even further. I ran my fingers along your back, trailing down your spine, feeling every shiver, every response. The connection between us was undeniable, electric, like a fire that refused to be put out.

“Sweetheart,” I whispered, voice rough with emotion. “You’ve got no idea what you mean to me, do you?”

You pulled back slightly, eyes meeting mine with that gentle, unwavering look that somehow held the entire universe. “I think I do,” you replied softly, your voice a gentle hum against my skin. “I know, Logan. And I’m not going anywhere.”

We lay there, entwined in each other, wrapped up in the warmth of our shared space, of the peace that somehow seemed to exist only in these quiet, stolen moments. You tucked your head beneath my chin, your arms draped around me, and I held you close, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against mine.

Eventually, I felt your breathing slow, your eyelids fluttering closed as sleep finally began to take hold. And for once, the nightmares seemed far away, held at bay by the warmth and comfort of having you by my side. I let myself drift off, holding you close, knowing that whatever battles lay ahead, I’d face them with you.

As sleep took its sweet time arriving, I held you close, feeling your breathing slow against me. The quiet warmth of the night wrapped around us, and I ran my hand along your back, tracing gentle patterns like I was memorizing every detail. You looked up at me, a sleepy smile dancing on your lips, and it was like seeing sunlight after a long winter.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you murmured, eyes half-closed, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Darlin’,” I replied softly, brushing a kiss against your forehead, “I’m not going anywhere.” The way you nestled into me, resting your head in the crook of my neck, made me wish I could somehow hold on to this moment, freeze it in time. The world felt perfectly right with you beside me, like every broken part in my past had finally found its place.

You were playing with the edge of my shirt, a small, absentminded gesture that felt so intimate. “I think you’re my safe place, Lo,” you said softly, your fingers tracing small circles on my chest. “No one’s ever made me feel like this.”

It was a confession that hit deeper than anything, a truth spoken in the small hours of the morning. I didn’t have the words to answer, so I wrapped my arms around you a little tighter, letting the silence fill with everything I couldn’t say. With you, it was more than love; it was peace, something I hadn’t thought I’d ever have.

We lay there together, breathing in sync, the stillness of the room pressing in like a comforting blanket. The flicker of the television cast a soft glow over you, and I reached over to brush a strand of hair from your face, just so I could see you more clearly. The gentle light played on your features, illuminating that spark in your eyes, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else.

I brought your hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to each of your fingertips, feeling the soft warmth of your skin. You let out a small laugh, that soft, delicate laugh that had the power to make the hardest parts of my heart melt. "Logan," you whispered, voice light and full of affection, "what did I do to deserve you?"

It was a question that I often felt myself asking. "Sweetheart, I think I’m the one who's undeserving here," I replied, pulling you even closer, savoring the feeling of you against me. "Every time I look at you, I know I’m the luckiest damn man alive."

You tilted your head up, eyes meeting mine with a look so full of love it almost hurt. Slowly, you brought a hand up to my face, your thumb brushing over the rough line of my jaw. There was something in your gaze, something that made me feel like you saw right through me — the scars, the history, the hard edges — and somehow still loved every part of it.

We stayed like that, wrapped up in the quiet comfort of each other. And even as the hours stretched on, I didn’t feel tired. I could’ve held you there forever, listening to the soft rhythm of your breathing, the gentle beat of your heart.

After a while, I leaned down and kissed the top of your head, breathing you in like you were the last bit of oxygen I needed. “You know,” I murmured, resting my cheek against your hair, “I used to think I’d be alone forever. But you—well, you changed that.”

You looked up at me, eyes bright despite the soft haze of sleep. “Logan,” you said, a little smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “you and me, we’re not alone anymore. We’re a team, remember?”

“Yeah, darlin’,” I replied, feeling something warm and steady settle deep within me. “We’re a team.”

And in that small, quiet moment, with the early morning light just beginning to creep in, I knew that whatever the future held, as long as I had you by my side, I could face it. This was what I’d been searching for all along — not just love, but a home. A place to rest, to finally be at peace.

Holding you close, I let myself drift, your warmth anchoring me to something real, something good. This, right here, was everything I ever wanted, wrapped up in the arms of the only person I’d ever let myself truly love.

end.

author: i hope some of you liked reading it! please do comment and reblog, it means the world to me

[lees-chaotic-brain]

1 Year Anniversary Soulmate Color Event! (Closed)

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Let me know if you want to get added to the event taglist!

It was recently my one year anniversary on tumblr, so I decided to do my first ask event! (I'm also rewarding myself because I caught up on my schoolwork)

The tag for this event is lee's 1 year anniversary event so filter it out if you don't want to see the fics from it.

Below are the rules and guide.

Here is the format:

Number (prompt) Shade (theme) Color (character)

Example:

Megumi angst with the "mark from last time your soulmate ever touches you" prompt

Would be:

#8 Jade Green

Step 1: Pick a Character (Color)

My Hero Academia:

Todoroki Shoto: Red

Bakugou Katsuki: Orange

Kaminari Denki: Yellow

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Fushiguro Megumi: Green

Gojo Satoru: Blue

Inumaki Toge: Purple

Yuji Itadori: Pink

Step Two: Pick a Theme (Shade)

Angst: blood, rust, ochre, jade, navy, eggplant, amaranth

Angst to Fluff: crimson, tangerine, pale, pine, ocean, lilac, rose

Hurt/Comfort: vermillion, dark, golden, forest, sky, plum, blush

Fluff: maroon, pumpkin, lemon, olive, baby, lavender, bubblegum

Crack: fire engine, safety cone, neon, lime, electric, violet, hot

Step Three: Pick an Prompt

#1. The closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you feel, the further you are the colder. Basically finding your soulmate is one big game of hot and cold.

#2. You and your soulmate are attached by an unbreakable red thread tied on you ankles/wrists/whatever.

#3. Every night your dreams are actually your soulmate's memories.

#4. Once you reach a certain age you begin to feel a pull towards your soulmate, just like magnets. (someone please request a crack version of this)

#5. The name of your soulmate appears on your body only after that person falls in love with you.

#6. If your soulmate gets a wound or cut, flowers bloom out of the same spot on your own body.

#7. The first time your soulmate touches you it will leave a mark in the shape of their touch on your body.

#8. The last time your soulmate touches you it will leave a mark in the shape of their touch on your body.

#9. You and your soulmate both glow if you're in a room together for the first time. (This can get confusing if more than 1 set of soulmates are in the room)

*note: I found these prompts on Pinterest. they do not belong to me.*

At the moment, I am not comfortable writing nsfw, so please don't request it

I don't write poly relationships. It's not that I have anything against it, I just don't feel comfortable

Please be polite! I'm happy to write your requests, but please be mindful of the fact that I am also a human being with a life

Feel free to send in as many as you want, I'll try to get to all of them

The event will close on Oct. 31, meaning I will stop taking requests for it, but will continue to write and post any requests I received up until then

[minecraftfanatic]

Merry Christmas @marsvs-thesun--Behold A Fanfic That May Never See The Light Of Day (Again)!

Chapter 1: Lament the Living, For They Haunt the Dead

Pythus had regrets.

He had many to be precise. Trudging through misty woodlands he opened old iron gates with an ear-cracking squeal, needing care he was unable to give. No, his attention was dedicated fully to the garden behind the Victorian mansion, one in remarkably good shape despite the decayed wood and peeling faded paint.

Mauve...the End’s arrogance knew no respite but just because they loved purple didn’t mean they laid sole claim to it.

On stone his claws clacked a rhythmic patter, crushing wayward foliage and twigs beneath dappled sunlight filtered through perpetual autumn leaves purple and red and orange. Overgrowth blocking his path was slashed aside by axe and limb, taking care to not damage more than necessary. In the garden proper was an entangling sea of every breed and color, thorns putting an impressive defense.

They had nothing against his fire.

As the dense greenery turned to ash Pythus waited, smothering flames to stride ahead when his goal cleared. The tree stood strong after all these years; trunk scarred but unbent, carpeted in vibrant patches of semi-luminescent moss, sparkling fairy lights. In front of the tree stood a granite monument untouched by time or erosion, a lone isle amidst a sea of piquant herbs, enticing blossoms, and dewy grass blades reaching up to his knees—a stone maiden whose idyllic features lit a smile in her viewers, kindling a tenderness matching her own. Not a single thorn marred stone nor did cracks exist to allow grasping roots purchase.

There he halted, tracing the statue’s cheek as a tear slid down his, “Hello love. I’m home.”

For ages Pythus stayed silent, wiping away the ashes and whatever sullied the grave. He had ensured some of the flowers survived and brought one to the base, a bouquet of orchids and dandelions tied together by a vine of star jasmine.

The weeds were a soft spot of his heart. He always scoffed when she claimed that their taste and persistence in survival reminded her of him—“On the outside you’re stubborn, bitter, intensely sharp. But inside? Sweeter than honey, purer than medicine, protective as the sun—there is nothing about you that isn’t incredible.”  

Nostalgia, he supposed, had a way of loosening tongues. “My death was impermanent,” he looked down at the base, unable to face her gaze, “for the longest time I wished otherwise.”

Why was he alive? Was this another sacrifice on her part, his heart giving away more for his sake? She had given up more than enough, more than he could stand. Amelie, Lazul, Mekane, Esme…a second chance is supposed to be that—second. “I have a father, brother, an entire kingdom where tragedy never happened. When I realized this, I thought I was in a lucid dream.” He still did in a way.

“I almost wished them away just for you. Why was I the only one brought back, when you deserved better?” A pebble is picked up, “Then the rest of my deeds caught up to my mind,” only to be swiftly crushed.

“Once I wondered what it would be like if the Nether was never touched. The answer was that I would’ve become a childish egotistical idiot.” Naught but self-loathing seeped in every word, his arms trembling from rage. “You must hate me,” a few centuries was all it took for him to grow into an unrepentant slaver. Him, who promised safety and freedom, had become everything he despised.

He was not perfect. He had little love for humanity aside from the few exceptions that spawned, but he refused to let himself become a hypocrite.

“My father—Chronos—went back to the Nether out of fear for his family and what do I do?” He gives a short laugh, empty of mirth. “I plot to kill him and take the throne.”

I failed you, are the words caught in his throat. I’m sorry, fumbles unmoving lips. All he wanted to say and yet his body unavailed. “You are not here,” is the only thing that comes out. Amelie was never reborn or else she would’ve come after him. This was no happy fable, no fair queen coming to save her king.

In a way Pythus was grateful lest she witness the mockery he’s become.

“It’s been hundreds of years since I woke and ever since I’ve looked for you. Once I feared the worst.” Had any Netheran, even his own blood, saw the prince they would’ve found him unrecognizable. “I would ask myself, “Did she die in the War? Was I the last face she saw? My father? Brother?”” Nightmares still haunted his waking moments.

“Father doesn’t know about us, same for Vulcannus. After all that transpired, I couldn’t face either of them.” Fixing past sins, the truth being crazier than fiction, a thousand reasons and more laid at the tip of his tongue but none of them were true. “I am afraid.”

It hung poignantly in the air, heavier than netherite. “I am afraid,” He breathed softly under silent branches, “of what they will say. Do. Think. I am afraid of so many things.” Of a father calling him mad, of a tomb desecrated, of a brother shamed, of a family scattered to ash.

In this silent home none could criticize his words to the dead.

He takes a minute to center himself, closing his eyes as a hand moved to clasp around stone palms. “I left Nazgard after finishing my duties. My brother will find no problems to his claim.” He left a note in his room, telling them that he needed time alone and assurance he would be back.

More example of his cowardice, to not say it to their faces. At least when he was dying, he had the excuse of not wanting his child to see his passing.

“I wish they met you,” Vulcannus would’ve loved her, same as father—then again, Amelie was wonderful at everything. “I know father wants a grandchild to smother, but he hides it well. I would volunteer but said granddaughter is currently having tea with you.”

Regrettably, his spark was human in every way other than distant ancestry. As much as Pythus wanted to be there for her accomplishments there was no other option that guaranteed her happiness.

His daughter lived and died in comfort; he made sure of it.

“Is she still calling coffee bean juice? Don’t let mother hear her or she might box her ears.” He let out a little chuckle as he imagined Pthelina’s scandalized face. She was a stickler for manners. In fact, he wagered she befriended his heart on sight. His little ember on the other hand was likely getting her cheeks pinched.

“I love you,” The forest felt lighter, brighter, noisier as its sole master rose. “We will have new neighbors soon if my plan works. They will treat their new home with care I assure you.”

There was a difference between sympathy and understanding, one Pythus knew all too well. The Voltaris were a mirror, a path to redemption and repaying old debts.

She would do the same.

======================================

A Protisium illuminates the forest, the man fixing the Sendaris with a genial smile as he lightly tosses the Song to its new owner. Technically Thalleous was also the previous owner but semantics. “As paid for. Did they suspect anything?”

“He fell asleep. That’s it.” Catching the Prime Thalleous frowned, the alluring hum doing little to the shred of guilt squirming in him. A shred his associate caught on. “Come now, I keep my word. Do you really think I’m that low?”

“There are more than enough orphans—”

“They’re a sweet child and I’d rather take in one I know.” Conversation finished the man walked away; his arms occupied by the slumbering Ardoni. The height difference would’ve been comical were it not for the obsidian armor he wore nor the enderdragon silently awaiting them.

“Farewell Thalleous. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

The champion stayed silent as the knight flew off, silencing his guilt in the greater good. Besides, this was the best (if unexpected) fate Senn could ask for. What child didn’t want adventure?

[promiseiwillwrite]

Going Nowhere

The lock clicked after Ray knocked and the landlord poked his head out. He had on a multicolored sweatband that made his shock of strawberry blond hair stick up funny, and a mustache that didn't hide his grin.

"Well Hello new tenant, what's on your mind?"

He gestured for Ray to come in, and when he did, he found himself a bit overwhelmed. The entire back wall of the apartment was a monument to VHS. The shelves covered every square inch, floor to ceiling, even where the windows should be. And the rest of the place was a maximalist cacophony of retro oranges and greens, bric-a-brac, and colored glass. An Elegant Tiffany lamp with a shade made to look like a sleeping peacock sat on a marble topped end table by the orange Naugahyde couch, nestled on the purple, deep pile shag carpet.

It took Ray a moment to register that he was being regarded with some sincerity by the landlord's other two guests.

The first was a tall, striking Egyptian man in flipflops and dangerously short shorts, stabbing vengefully at Freddy Mercury's ambience with his own mustache.

The other a blond man with curls perfectly framing his stately features. They all held pickleball rackets.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I'd interrupted!" Ray started to back out the door immediately, continuing, "I'll come back by another time!"

"Oh, don't be silly, You should meet everyone." His landlord closed long fingers over one shoulder, and stopped his retreat. "This is Ray, he just moved into 5A, and he's good with plants. You should see the lovely little guys he put on that windowsill upstairs."

"How sweet." said the blond, reaching out a hand. "Call me Luke." Ray Nodded shyly, blushing a little in spite of himself, and shook the man's hand. He didn't understand why he felt so nervous all of a sudden.

"And I'm Seth." The dark haired gentleman brushed his lips barely across Ray's knuckles, and Ray thought he was going to pass out. It took every ounce of will he had to keep his knees from wiggling out from under him.

Ray's Landlord, Al looked at the gesture in progress and his jaw dropped. "You dramatic little whore, I am going to take this racket to your rear-end if you scare off my tenant."

Ray steadied himself. He breathed in. He took his hand back and folded his fingers together.

Seth gave Al a saucy little smile and went to the kitchen, ostensibly to fill his water bottle, and make the point that Al wasn't the boss of him.

Luke chuckled at Ray's quick recovery. "Oh, I think he'll be alright, as long as we don't drag him back to the bedroom immediately."

Al acted like he was going to hit Luke with the Pickleball racket he was holding, and Luke Vaulted over the back of the couch and out of the way, scurrying to the kitchen.

Al rolled his eyes, and regained his composure. "They aren't dangerous unless they're intoxicated. Then they're wicked beasts. But they won't bother you if you tell them no, hon."

Ray smiled sheepishly. He'd dealt with this sort of behavior from men and women since he hit puberty. He had come to assume his decision not to cut his hair probably played into that somewhat. He liked the attention, though. "I'm not sure I am up to what they can dish out. I might come to movie night though."

Al smiled. "Better than they deserve. We're doing Rocky Horror."

"Classic."

Al grinned at him again. "Well, anyway, you actually came here for something aside from the sexual harassment."

Someone from the kitchen said: "No, that was just a freebee." followed by much giggling.

Ray chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "I have the Rent and the deposit I owe you."

Al gave the tiniest pout at this, and took the envelope Ray held out to him. He walked it over to a desk that was a complete riot of other papers.

"Do you need a receipt, Mr. Friedman?"

"Yes, Please."

More giggling came from the kitchen.

Al opened a drawer and took out a green receipt pad, and jotted the time and date, and paid in full, and he gave Ray a copy.

"Thank you," Ray said quietly with a nod.

"No, thank you, I am glad you're prompt and not easily offended."

"They'd have had to try to use those pickleball rackets on me. I don't do that sort of thing until the 3rd date."

Howls of laughter rolled out of the kitchen as Al tried to keep a straight face through that retort.

Ray gave a small wave and a swift exit as his landlord joined with the laughter on the other side of the closing door.

Ray smiled all the way to work that day.

[angst-king]

Time of Dying pt 1

(So this is a story series for my friend and I's elemental spirit OCs. Due to them being spirits, we've decided to do a 'how would they die' back story series. Here we go!) (CW description of serious house fire and being burned alive) Leyo loved his job he had worked very hard to get into the fire academy, it took him a while but he eventually became a lieutenant. Not only that but he had a lovely girlfriend who he loved with every fiber of his being. From her pitch-black coily hair to her caramel-colored skin, to her bright white smile. He’d do anything for her, he’d risk his life for her. She was perfect for him, she knew how to make him laugh after a stressful day at work. Cooled him down from exploding with anger-Leyo was known for being a hot head- and not being afraid when he’d get mad. She made him feel love and brought him all he could ever need.

There was only one downside….she couldn’t cook. Ashlyn couldn’t cook to save her life, okay that's an exaggeration. She could cook small things, mac n cheese, toaster oven pizzas, just simple things if she was alone. Anything else she would overseason, underseason, undercook, overcook. Leyo grew up and was taught how to took and it was clear Ashlyn was not. It was a wonder she had made it 23 years like this!

After moving in together for a month, Leyo would teach her how to cook whenever he could. It was fun, just another way to spend time together. Dancing around the kitchen and talking about their day, Ashylyn would learn how to cook and Leyo would get a laugh out of her antics. The thing was she was starting to get better and better at it, she still struggled not to walk away from the stove or oven for too long or not second-guessing and needing to put the food back on the heat but she was making progress.

It was a late night and Leyo was grabbing himself a bite to eat on the way home from his overnight shift at the station. He was sitting in the parking lot of a Wendy’s, eating his sandwich only 5 minutes from home when he got a call on his cellphone. Huh, his neighbor was calling, ah maybe their kid was out late again?

“Hello?” “Leyo dude, get home now your house is on fire!” His heart skipped a beat and he dropped his sandwich asking for them to repeat what he heard.

“Your house literally bursted into flames man, no joke, I don’t know where your girlfriend is. I already called the fire department but you know it’ll be a bit. Just get here now!” Without skipping a beat as soon as the neighbor hung up he sped out of the parking lot and down the street. His mind raced wondering what could have happened and if Ashlyn was okay. As he grew closer smoke filled the air polluting it with sparks and the sound of crashing and tumbling. A glow of orange and red illuminated the sky as he zoomed through the neighborhood. Many civilians came out of their homes to see what had happened and just as he turned down his street he saw no fire trucks arriving yet. He parked as close as he could and ran towards his house, calling out for his girlfriend asking if she had come out. But no one knew, and Leyo had a sick feeling in his stomach that she was still inside.

The house was going up in flames, it wasn’t much but the fire was taking it down slowly. He knew it would be a good few minutes before the fire truck would get here, cops would arrive first to clear the street. He looked down and saw he was still wearing his fireman jacket. It was risky but he wouldn’t be able to rest if he waited minutes, he didn’t have minutes he had seconds!

“LEYO!” The purple-haired man dashed inside many bystanders screamed for him to get out, but it was too late. Smoke nothing but smoke, he got as low as he could, face covered by his shirt to filter out as much ash and smoke as he could as he called for Ashlyn. The crackling of fire and would coming down didn’t phase him he had one thing on his mind and it was to get to his girlfriend! First, he checked the kitchen which was the main source of the fire, he couldn’t even get in without being surrounded, and when he called out.

“ASHLYN! ASHLYN!” No answer, he quickly backtracked and went up the stairs continuing to shout for her. This time he got an answer from behind the bathroom door. The floor beneath him was getting hotter and hotter it felt like everything was melting in on itself but he pounded on the door for Ashlyn to let him in. When she did he stepped inside and asked if she was okay. Visibility wasn’t any better up there as the smoke was traveling.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, I-i tried-I tried to make dinner a-and something c-caught fire and I exploded so-so I ran” She stammered out shakily coughing and choking on air. Leyo shook his head and held her close.

“Its gonna be alright, let's get out of here, can you walk?” Ashlyn took a step forwards but stumbled hard almost falling face-first onto the sink. Leyo caught her and wrapped an arm around her waist for support.

“I got you, let’s go!” Headed back towards the stairs a creaking noise came and the smoke had grown denser and the fire was climbing into the living room slithering into the sockets causing sparks. Creaking, crackling, sizzling, popping, and crashing, the house was starting to come down around them. Getting to the front door they thought they could just through the door open but the suction of the outside air and the pressure inside mixing with the heat made getting it open difficult. Leyo remembered he had something upstairs he could use to ram the door open Still, he encouraged her to find a way out, shrucking off his jacket he covered her with it and dashed back up the stairs.

The fire rose parts of the floor were coming down, the hot spots were boiling, it was like being in an oven. Leyo searched and searched he didn’t know how long he was up there but he managed to find a bat with the hopes of breaking the window and getting out. Right as he turned to go back to Ashlyn he made a wrong move and next thing he knew he fell through the second floor and right into a ring of fire. Ashlyn screamed as she heard a sick thud and saw Leyo’s body hit the ground. Leyo let out a scream of his own when he felt something searing into his back.

He kicked and squirmed in hopes of making it stop but the fire spread along his body. Breathing got harder it felt like a 50-ton weight was crushing his chest and acid burning his throat. He had dropped the bat but gestured for Ashlyn to grab it.

“Smash the window and run!” He choked out, she shook her head and tried to get closer to him but more planks and drywall plunged down.

“NO PLEASE!” She screamed, all Leyo could do was nudge the bat over, and pull his body towards the edge to crawl out from underneath the rubble.

“I’ll be okay” He croaked out, another burst of fire crackled around them and the black-haired girl picked up the bat limped her way back to the front, and weakly smashed at the window. It took many tries as he need for oxygen increased her body grew weaker. Each swing felt like it was taking years off her life but she kept going in hopes that she could get out and tell the firefighters where Leyo was and they could rescue him too.

With one final crash, the window had broken enough for her to climb through not without injury but it was better than burning alive. Just as she got to the front of the house a firefighter came to get her away while she rasped out for them to go inside.

“M-my boyfriend, please, you-you have to-have help him! Inside f-first flo-floor” Her world went black, she dropped the bat, the young woman was whisked to the paramedics as soon as she lost consciousness.

Inside the house Leyo was losing a battle he knew he would never win. Pulling himself along the scolding floor, his flesh scraping along the burning wood. Plaster and decor fell atop his body, his mind was becoming numb as his heart was pounding up to his head. Black nothingness was all he could see and flickers of fire. No matter how much he focused on getting to the front door each reach of his shaking arms felt like he was swimming in tar. He wasn’t even sure he was conscious anymore. Nothing felt real, he could hear voices but see nothing, he could feel the vibrations of footsteps thumping up to the front door through the floor.

Weezing and sputtering for air just as a crew of search and rescue firefighters busted through the door the fire erupted like a blazing inferno!

“WE FOUND HIM!” They dashed out carrying Leyo’s limp body hurriedly to the medics. His body had been chard, muscles and bones were being exposed as multiple layers of skin had been burned away. His airway was hardly salvageable, 55% of his body had been covered in 3rd nearing 4th degree burns as even bones were becoming exposed. His hair was melting off his scalp with chunks of his skin, and his heart no longer beat.

No matter how long medics looked for an airway, creating one only bought them time. No matter how many rounds of chest compressions and shocks. No matter how fast they got to that hospital. It was all for nothing.

He was gone

[rowavolo]

Hi! Okay, for the music themed asks, for Neuv, do Rock, Musicals, and Gaming tracks. For Cap, Folk and Jazz!

WAVES HI THERE!!!!!!!! BITES YOU EIGHT TRILLION TIMES !!!! MY STINKY !!!!!!! ILY!!!!

Neuvillette -

2. Rock — What's something you and your f/o are proud of each other for?

I'd be very proud of him for adapting so well to human life and behaviours and the little intricacies of socialisation, as well as his crazy good memory!!

I think he'd be proud of me every time i left the house without having some form of meltdown, or made it through a conversation without hiding behind him skdjfhjksfd,, no but fr he probably admires my general drive to sort of Keep Going

9. Musicals — What colors/sounds/scents remind you and your f/o of one another?

He'd associate me with orange, first and foremost (99.9% because of my hair), but secondarily, purple and turquoise. Not for any sentimental reason, but because the Melusines found out that those are my favourite colours and remind him like eight times a week kjshdfjkdfs -- he doesn't seem like the type to have much of a crossover between certain senses. I actually imagine him to have a pretty strong case of aphantasia, so those links just don't come naturally to him - because of this, he's also an extremely literal person. I'm to be associated with the general commotion i kick up whenever i'm nearby (see previous post), but also the chatter of overexcited melusines and imitations of the little chirps and purrs they make.

I associate him with blues, whites and that tarnished sort of gold colour he wears. Maybe a cloudy sort of grey. He's got a snake scale sort of texture but also a very smooth soft one. I associate him with the sound of a clock and work being done at a desk, the smell of rain, and the tapping of his cane.

10. Gaming tracks — What is a core memory or a memory you will never forget with your f/o?

Core memories would probably include how we met (which mostly just vibes to me as like. i testified in a trial as a witness or whatever and Freaked It(tm) and he called for a recess and comforted me n was like nice.

Outside of that, I imagine him introducing me to the Melusines as his partner for the first time was also a very memorable moment for us <3

Capitano

3. Folk — What's something funny your f/o has done or said, or a moment that has made you laugh?

I imagine he and I both have these very dry senses of humour, and our 'back and forth' can be a little confusing to those who aren't familiar. One that always gets me is when i make him carry something of mine that's very outwardly soft and kind of cutesy, so it clashes horribly with his whole dark-and-brooding aesthetic.

though, one piece of one of my fics does come to mind as being pretty amusing/silly

'

"If you were a fruit product," Rowan began the sentence as if it were an entirely normal subject to hop to. Capitano patiently awaited the rest of it as Rowan paused to think for a moment. "I think you'd be pear cider." 

"You'd be applesauce." Capitano offered in return - they'd been together long enough for him to be able to keep up with Rowan's odd subject-hops and ways of expressing affection. 

"Applesauce?!" Rowan blinked and set a hand on his chest in mock-offence. "I wanted to be something cool, like a jam, or-or a candy! Not baby food." 

"You like applesauce." Capitano observed simply. 

"Okay. Yeah. True, I guess." Rowan's cheeks flushed. "Guilty as charged. But I'm changing your answer to 'raisins' instead." 

"I see." Capitano reached over to retrieve the last few items from the bag so he could put them away. 

"You're s'posed to be upset about that, by the way." Rowan tipped his chin up as he watched the Harbinger mill around the kitchen silently. 

"I like raisins." Capitano said, as he placed a jar of chutney in one of the cupboards. 

"Well I don't!" Rowan burst out indignantly. "They're yucky and icky and squishy and gross and I hate them." While his words were angry, his tone bordered more on joking. 

"You hate me?" Capitano turned to Rowan and tilted his head to the side - his helmet still remained firmly on, as it often did for the first few hours after he arrived home after a long stretch of time spent away on missions. 

"Yep. Sorry, you need to find a new catboy to look after your cabin." Rowan shrugged in a nonchalant manner. 

"I'll have Pantalone post an advertisement." Capitano took the joke in stride, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips at his partner's familiar antics. 

"Wait, no." Rowan began to backpedal immediately. "No no no. No." He scrunched up his face and grabbed onto the lapels of Capitano's coat, giving them a firm tug. "I'm territorial. You can't get a new catboy. Or girl. Or anything." 

Capitano let out a low puff of amusement and stepped a little closer to Rowan, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him flush against his chest.

'

it's just fun and soft and domestic and silly and i like it <3

5. Jazz — What are some sweet or nice nicknames you and your f/o have for one another?

I headcanon Capitano's 'real' name to be Maleko, so on soft occasions i'd possibly call him 'eko', but usually it's just 'Cap', 'Capi' 'Tano' or some variation thereof.

I imagine he tends to call me things like 'cub' or 'pup' just because of My Vibes, but another one he's fond of is 'bambi' (tbh i made the story (or some variation thereof) canon in my version of teyvat simply because i like the nickname so much sfhkjdfsnk

[undertheashtree]

Creating My Own Version of the Pat McGrath Mothership XI Palette

If you haven’t checked out my YouTube channel, then something you need to know about me is that I love the Pat McGrath Mothership palettes. I own the first ten (nine of which were given to me as gifts by my husband and my mother-in-law). I’ve lusted after these palettes for years, though I never actually thought I would own so many of them.

Since “completing” my collection at the beginning of this year, I’ve had no desire to add to my Mothership collection. I also wondered if the brand would end the line at ten palettes, mostly because the last three received a lot of criticism for being too similar and too pink, but here we are with number eleven.

(This picture belongs to Pat McGrath, I just took a screenshot off the website.)

Upon seeing this palette for the first time, it immediately reminded me of Divine Rose I and II (the seventh and eighth palette). Everything appears to have some level of rosy pink to it, with the exceptions of the dark matte brown (bottom row, first shade) and the gold (bottom row, last shade). I can acknowledge this palette is pretty, but it’s painfully boring and repetitive, especially since I have every other Mothership palette. Without trying, I know I could easily dupe, or at least come extremely close to, this new palette with the Pat McGrath eyeshadows I already own.

Furthermore, the name of this palette—Sunlit Seduction—speaks to its wasted potential, in my opinion. Sunlit Seduction. I saw the name and was overwhelmed with the idea of what this palette could have been. Sunsets and sunrises came to mind, with their bold, fiery, warm color palettes, with just a hint of blues and purples. I spent some time Googling sunsets and sunrises, along with noting the names of the original eyeshadows, and set to work creating my vision of this palette.

By the way, there is a video of me building this palette up on my channel, if you’d like to check it out.

I used the names of the original eyeshadows as additional inspiration for what colors I wanted to use in my version of the palette. I’ll talk about the eyeshadows going top to bottom, left to right. The first shade is called Skintense Radiance, and it appears to be a champagne metallic with a pink undertone. I felt this should have been more yellow, something more sunshine-y, so I opted for a pastel yellow metallic. This is a franken-shadow I mixed together a while ago, and I don’t remember what went into it.

Next was Nude Rose. This felt too cool-toned, almost mauve. Looking at the sunrise/sunset pictures, some of the pinks do lean somewhat purple, but more like a lilac and not mauve. There were also a lot of warm pinks, although the majority seemed softer than I was imagining. I settled on this warm, peachy pink called Eden. The pigment is soft, but still bold, which mimicked the pink in the pictures really well.

Then we have Hypnotic Bronze. I’m not a fan of these orange-leaning bronzes/coppers, like what’s in the original palette, and which Pat McGrath insists on including in so many of her palettes. Also, bronze, the metal, can look blue and green. In the sunrises especially, I was seeing hints of pastel green, and thought this would be a good opportunity to include a small flash of green in the palette. The eyeshadow I included is called Crystal, and it’s got a pinkish brown base color with lots of green and blue shimmer.

Onto our first “special” shade, called Astral Pink Fetish. Another eyeshadow color I’m not a fan of is pink to gold duochromes, and no amount of sparkle—and this one seems to have a lot—will change that. This is also a duochrome that we see a lot from Pat McGrath, which makes this “special” shade the least special in the palette. I wanted to keep the pink but wanted the finish to be more blue/purple, so I went with Good Gawd for this shade. Even though this isn’t the same formula as Pat McGrath’s “special” shades, this eyeshadow is definitely special in its own way, and I felt it would replace that particular formula really well.

Then we have Blitz Crimson Ecstasy, which is the most disappointing shade in the palette. Nothing about the original eyeshadow says “crimson”. It’s incredibly pink and seems to have very little red actually in it. I have a few really lovely metallic reds, but I chose to go with a multichrome, which is called Lucid. It’s a black-based multichrome that shifts purple, magenta, red, orange, gold, and a hint of green at the end. I felt this really embodied the vibe I was trying to go for, especially the sunset side of things, and I wish the brand would include some bolder multichromes in their palettes.

Next was Xtreme Vermillion, which isn’t vermillion in the slightest. The color vermillion is more of a red-orange, leaning more towards red. The eyeshadow in the palette is a dark, warm brown. To be fair, I also didn’t go with a real vermillion, but I did want a primary red matte. One day, I hope Pat McGrath puts out some bolder colorful mattes like this one, called Button Bush, so I suppose this decision was partially driven by wishful thinking. I also love a good, matte, primary red, and I felt this was a good palette to include it in.

Next was Copper Dawn, which looks more gold than the bronze, but still very warm and orangey. My vision for this palette warranted a strong gold, but I didn’t want anything too yellow, or that leans orange. The one I chose, called 365, is a gold with brown undertone, giving it a bronzier look. It also has a subtle green finish, which, I think, added something interesting to the palette.

Then we have Sienna Mystique, which is a warm, midtone brown matte. Looking at the color sienna, it’s more of a burnt orange, so that’s what I went for. I considered going a little more neutral, but the brightness of this shade, called Enigma, embodied the fieriness of a sunset really well.

Probably the only shade in the entire palette that I enjoy is Astral Amethyst Allure. It’s a hazy kind of purple, lots of sparkle, and has a pink finish. My initial instinct was to dupe this shade, but I didn’t have anything close, so I went with a grungier brownish purple with lots of silver glitter, called Wild & Free. It has a similar vibe to the original shade, but adds an interesting amount of grunginess to the palette that I quite enjoy.

Finally, we have Astral Gilded Aura, which is a sparkly gold. It looks really bright, but also like a glittery gold in the Mothership X. For this shade, I chose to put my dislike of orangey metallics aside and opted for a gold with an orange base, called Stardust. It’s similar to 365, but the base color is bright, more red-orange, and it’s got a strong gold finish.

This is far from my usual color story. I’m much more drawn to greens, blues, purples, and greys, so this warm, orangey palette is out of my comfort zone, but I think I like it. It’s at least more interesting than Pat McGrath’s version, so I’m counting this as a win for that reason alone.

I’ll leave you with some swatches. The eyeshadow names, as well as their palettes, will be listed below (written in order from top to bottom, left to right, in the palette).

Yellow franken-shadow Eden - Anastasia Beverly Hills Prism palette Crystal - Beauty Bay Book of Magic palette Good Gawd - J.D. Glow single Lucid - Chaos Makeup multichrome Button Bush - Ace Beaute Floral Vintage palette 365 - J.D. Glow single Enigma - Blend Bunny Blends palette Wild & Free - Dose of Colors single Stardust - Beauty Bay Book of Magic palette

[spadillelicious]

✨✨✨GLITTER GLUE LDR MOON???✨✨✨ I LOVE HIM!!! I WANT THIS FRAMED ON MY WALL 💖💖💖💖💖

Like??? Getting a fanart piece in glitter glue of the dca, that's gotta be the highest honor one can get in this fandom!!! I'm losing my mind I love this so much!!! /vpos 💞💞💞 I love traditional art so much, and this piece??? This is so good, I could see it in an art museum!!! The way the colors flow together, the yellow and cyan highlights, the purple shadows...!! The pink and orange in the red of his eyes...!! How the textures of the different media involved mix together...!!! The crosshatching intermingling with the swirls in his nightcap...!! :D :D :D It scratches my brain just right!!! I've been sitting for a long time now, just looking at every little detail of this piece :) It looks absolutely amazing, and I can just imagine how great it looks irl when you can see the glitter in action!! ✨✨✨✨✨ Thank you so much for enjoying the story and tagging me in this jaw-dropping art!! I can see how much love went into making it, and it truly makes my day to see! 💖💖💖✨✨✨

Moon from Love Death and Rollerskates by @spadillelicious! Go read it please, it's so good! This is crayon and glitter glue on multimedia paper.

[era-story-writer]

ERA - CH.1 PT.6 - Get Set!

There were so many voices and different hybrids. Amani's head kept turning and looking to see whose voice belonged to who with all the voices over lapsing, Amani's leg started to twitch.

“Hey there buddy you okay?”

“N-no! They're all being so loud!” Amani whined.

“Oh then lets just go outside real quick okay?”Just when they were going outside a voice spoke.

“Hello everyone, it's so nice to see so many faces! Now here is how it's going to go: every familiar will introduce themselves and tell us their name, where they came from, and what their ability sounds good?” There were some nods and some yeses heard in the crowd. “Okay so the first family up is . . . the Calum family. A little girl dressed head to toe in pastel purple color stood up in contrast to her familiar who was dressed in a black suit and red tie. As they both made their way in front of the class there was silence. Until the girl nudged at her familiar. “Oh right of course. My name is Dante and I am Harlow's keeper. I am a raven hybrid and I am from almost everywhere but mainly in open forest areas. My ability? I create most things into something new.” The children began raising their hands and jumping upside down. “

“Okay I see that we have some questions. You in the back go on and ask your question.”

“When you say you could create most things into something new what did you mean?”

“Well I can use things like broken wood, used glass or old glass to make something new.”

“Does it have a time limit or is it permanent once it's made?”

“No it's not permanent and yes it has a time limit. Once the object reaches its time limit it turns into sand.”

“Why sand?”

“One of the eight wonders of the world I suppose.”

The children tilted his head and Dante chuckled. “I can demonstrate my ability if that isn’t any trouble?” Dante looked at James waiting for a response. “Go ahead, I think this would make for a rather interesting experience.” Dante then bent down and looked at Harlow “Could you please get the materials out of your backpack please?” Harlow nodded her head and ran to her backpack and pulled out a container containing three things: some broken glass, a few chunks of wood, and bits of thin gray pieces of metal. Dante pulled them out and carefully placed them on the table. He closed his eyes and spread his wings. His eyes were now orange instead of the purple that they were. The objects started to float in the air and instantly were forced together. Slowly the new object descended from the air onto the table. It was a clock.

“You may all approach if you want to look at it from a closer view.” The children were hesitant at first but one by one they all approached the table. Some were touching and poking the clock others just returned to their desks. Then when everyone was seated, Dante smiled “This is what I can do to any object no matter how big or little all it takes is focus.” Everyone clapped and Dante was going to sit down but Amani raised his hand.

“It seems that we have one more question.”

“I just wanted to know if you can mix and mend anything you want, can you do it to people?”

The room went quiet. “What an . . . interesting question but no in order to mend and mix things whatever I'm mixing can't have a soul.” Amani should have been satisfied with that question but he wasn't. He should've kept his mouth shut but he didn’t and if he was going to ask that question he might as well make it count. “Can you mix dead people together?” There were quiet whispers and horrified faces. What was worse is that it was directed not at Dante but rather at Amani.

“What a terrible question!”

“Who taught him to say such things?”

“What does his family teach this child?

There were questions Amani had all heard before. So he didn’t mind it was much until the final nail in his coffin was said in a rather snobbish remark.

“Didn’t his mother teach him any better?

At that time Amani didn’t want an answer. At that point he just wanted to go home. He should have stayed home. He put his head on the desk facing down and let the tears fall without any sound. Gavin whispered in his ear if he was okay. “Please make them go away. I just want quiet, just quiet please. I know it was a stupid question and i'll never ask it again just please i . . . don’t want to be here.” Gavin felt nothing but anger towards the people in the room. “Is this what you all wanted? To make a child cry? Of course that question was strange but he's only eight years old for crying out loud!” Amani had never heard anyone talk like that to someone else, especially for him. Maybe he could get used to this, maybe he could get used to Gavin. “Of course the first thing you do when finding something strange is to judge it. That's all you people do is judge! Without second thought or second glance!" Gavin picked up the small boy and wrapped his wings in front of him. Amani was already made fun of by the adults; he didn't need the kids to laugh because he was crying.

Gavin stood up and took his coat along with Amani's belongings and left through the exit. After a good five minutes Amani began to speak. “I really made a mess back there didn't I?” Gavin spoke calmly “No you were just being a kid. There's no harm in that now is there?” Amani was quiet for a moment “Everyone thinks that my questions are stupid. . . do you think they're stupid?” Gavin thought about it for a moment. “No. I think it was a good question. A small smile appeared on his face.

“Really?”

“Yeah you know that familiars love those types of questions.

“They do?”

“Yeah, we're built for weird stuff like that. We're just as curious as you.”

“Do you think I would be better off as a familiar if given the chance?”

Gavin stood still.

“Gavin? Are you okay?”

“No, I think you're fine just the way you are. We need kids like you nowadays.”

It was quiet after that and they walked all the way home. Gavin flew into the kids window to put the kid in bed. Tucking him bed sitting next to him for a moment to give his wings a rest. Looking at the kid he hoped that the world wouldn’t fuck him over like the world did to him. As he was about to leave, doing all that he could, the door creaked open and there he was.

Amani's father's hair frazzled and a wide eyed look with bags under his eyes but the look he had changed in anger in an instant.

“You.”

[becauseimbexx]

Who is Bexx?

Who is this girl?

.....where did she go.......

~ why did she come back~

Should she stay or go?🎶 🦋🍄🌻

I guess some might be wondering these kind of things.lol 🫠🙃😝 Where the fuck do I even start? lol it's like I know who I am, but when I'm put on the spot and asked about myself I clam up and don't know what to say. Kinda-sorta-like how I can think about the many materialistic things I could want, but the instant it becomes birthday/holiday season, and someone asks you for a wish list and instead my mind goes completely blank. Is anyone else like this?

Anywho... back to business besties!

Hello there, 👋🏻

My name is Bexx, I am a fierce force to be reckon with. A loving stay at home mommy & wifey. I am the 4th oldest in the lineup of my total of ten siblings. I was born October 31st, 1993. Yes I was born on Halloween, and Yes, I do indeed turn 30 this year. Go team scorpio ♏️. I grew up in the great PNW. specifically Vancouver WA, & Portland OR. I love the place I call home. 🌲☔️

Some fun facts about me are:

My favorite color(s) are, Orange, Purple, & Green

My favorite food is all food.

My all time most favorite Tv show is the OG Gossip Girl. I am 100% a Blair Waldorf.

I like to express myself through many forms of art. I love to cook, curate playlist, host parties & fun gatherings (I love planning every detail & being extra) Pinterest is one of my happy places.

I have a love for all aesthetics & enjoy playing dress up.

I am & will always be an adventuring kind of girly. I want to travel the globe & experience its magnificent beauty for myself. I've had quite the journey on social media & would like to meet the people that make up my world.

I've almost always got music playing & prefer music over movies. I listen to & have an appreciation for all eras & genres.

But when it does come to movies, it's either a cheesy rom-com or Horror.

I enjoy being goofy as fuck & making art out of my life on the internet for others to see. While simultaneously being vulnerable & talking about the not-so-beautiful parts of life.

I am not a religious person but, I am a very spiritual being. I don't publicly talk about politics for so many reason. The most important part being is just don't want my page to be about that. At least for right now.

I am 100% 420 friendly use weed on the daily for its many medicinal & recreational purposes.

I believe in celebrating life however one chooses to do so. Literally just do what makes you happy.

I have been married for 4.5 years & have a 5 year old son. Some of ya'll might see posts about them occasionally but aside from that, I will not be putting them on my page until they decide they want to. That goes for anyone in my personal life honestly.

Honestly I started this dream of a career in social media over a decade ago in my mother's basement where my siblings and I would plan out shenanigans to document and put on the internet. But we never actually did anything. Through my many attempts at starting something I was constantly trying to figure out where I fit in and what could I do that would make a worthy career. It took some time for me to realize that there are already many influencers like myself that already don't fit a particular niche. They're just genuinely being themselves & doing what makes them happy. I want to do that too.

Here & across other social media platforms I want to document life experiences, and share my life with y'all. & at the end of the day, I also aim to create a safe and fun environment for us all to share the things that make our world beautiful. Let's go forth & live our best lives together.

#BexxBesties for life.

XOXO- Bexx 🤍🖤

[scarasun]

O-Oh my... 😳 May I request head canons of Arlecchino and Scaramouche/Wanderer (separate) being soft with their S/O? 👀🤭

my hubris ;;

pairing : arlecchino, scaramouche x gn!reader

cw : 3.3 archon quest spoilers if you squint a little (scaramouche's part)

a/n : thank you for sending in your requests yall 😭 when i saw them i knew i had to get started right away (i hope you don't mind that i sort of roped in two requests at a time...). anyways, i had so many ideas for this, but this is what i eventually settled on! let me know if you enjoyed it!

- Arlecchino is very familiar with the art of donning different masks to adapt to certain situations. Sometimes she’s a graceful gentlelady, the perfect picture of poise; other times, she’s an enemy’s worst nightmare. With you, however, she’s learnt to strip away all that makes her a formidable Fatui Harbinger.

- Before she had met you, she had only known to speak coarse words that cut her tongue, sharp and biting like salt on a wound. But in your presence, those words simply dissolve. She wants nothing more in the world than to let you know how much she finds you endearing – simply put, she’s a master at the use of pet names.

- “Dearest, can you come here for a minute?” “It’s good to see you again, my love.” “You look amazing, darling.” – The both of you have been together for a long time, and yet her terms of endearment never fail to make you feel like you’re falling in love for the first time once again.

- Arlecchino doesn’t consider herself to be a lazy person, but you come before all, including her work. Canceled missions become more frequent – she just can’t seem to get enough of your company. Conversely, when she’s at work, the only thing at the back of her mind is getting home at the end of the day to see your smile again.

It’s the end of a brutally long day, and the sky is painted in the scenic reds and oranges of the sunset. The sky looks beautiful, Arlecchino thinks to herself, but it’s nothing compared to you. She blushes at the cheesy thought, and she feels like she could almost hear your bouts of laughter if she were to accidentally speak the sentiment out loud. 

Arlecchino opens the front door to your shared home and puts her shoes to the side, surveying the house. She spies your figure sitting on the couch in the middle of the living room, and her pace picks up slightly, a small smile growing on her face. Your focus is angled downwards, and she could see a book resting in your lap.

Wordlessly, she climbs into the couch beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist tightly and burying her face into your neck. 

“Good afternoon, Arle,” you say, reaching up to tangle your fingers in her snow-white hair. The only acknowledgement you receive for your greeting was her arms tightening around you.

It felt good to be home.

- After his fall from the ranks of the Fatui, the puppet who now calls himself a Wanderer has nothing much to do except…wander. And that’s exactly what he does – except when you’re always at the back of his mind, he finds himself partaking in some strange behaviors.

- You’re his rose-colored lens; he sees the world in relation to you. Anything he sees during his travels that remotely reminds him of you is coming back to your shared home with him. Most times, when you come back home from work, he’ll wordlessly hand you his trinket for the day and then scurry away – but not too fast to the point where you miss the blush rising on his cheeks.

Today he hands you a flower. It dangles between his fingers, its purple petals illuminated by the yellow light of the lamp. Just like every day before this one, he’s found something to give to you. 

Unlike every day before this one, he meets your eyes, and speaks. 

“Well? Are you going to take it or not?” The former Fatui Harbinger’s words don’t come out nearly as brazen as he would have liked, but you’ve come to realize that his usually harsh tone has mellowed out over the past few months. Must be Nahida’s doing.

You take the rose from his hands and smile gently at him, your heart warming at the cute gesture. “It’s very beautiful, thank you.”

He grunts in response, but his facial expression softens in the lamp light, and you know he’s glad to see you accept his gift.

- He isn’t very good with words, and although he tries to be, it just never works in his favor. His main way of showing affection is physical touch, which comes easier to him than terms of endearment. Something in particular that you both seem to enjoy (especially him) is when he carries you in his arms bridal style.

- If he could carry you in his arms forever, he would. If it’s raining and the path that you both are walking along is filled with puddles, expect him to carry you above it. Similarly, he might scold you for falling asleep on the couch, but he secretly enjoys picking you up and carrying you over to your bed.

- However, if you ask him about his affinity for holding you, he’ll simply ignore your questions.

[p-taryn-dactyl]

So about Salem!Agatha could you do one where reader isn't a witch and they don't know that Agatha is, but somehow reader discover that Agatha is a witch and she thinks that reader will be mad or something but they are just curious/want to see what color it is some kinda of thing.

I really like your writing

Just in case you want to know it was me requested the spider!person and the "that's what she said"

a/n: hiii!! thank you so much <3 also omg, i loved those requests so much, “that’s what she said” made me laugh a lot while writing it (hopefully you laughed too??)

word count: 1.1k

warning(s): slight insecurity - that’s it, the rest is fluff

Normally, you would tell Agatha when you were visiting, a rule she had set at the beginning of your relationship. You never thought too much of it, you just assumed she was a messy person and had to clean up for a visitor.

But today, you wanted to surprise your girlfriend. You had made a basket for her, filled with homemade bread and fresh flowers you had picked from your garden, attracting the most beautiful butterflies. You hummed as you walked down the path overgrown with grass and tree roots, careful not to trip. The basket was nestled in the crook of your elbow, swaying slightly allowing the smell of lavender and bread to waft around you. The sun had started to dip slightly into the horizon, painting the sky with pink and orange hues. You still had flour on your cheeks and dirt under your nails from your long day of baking and planting but the only thing on your mind was finally seeing Agatha. She had been holed up in her cottage for days now, never leaving unless she needed to buy food or get water from the pump. Assuming she was under the weather, thats where you got the idea for a basket.

You saw Agatha’s cottage in the distance as the path came to an end. You cocked your head to the side when you saw a slight purple haze surrounding her home. Either the sun was casting illusions on your tired eyes or a migraine was soon approaching. Shaking your head, you blinked your eyes a few times, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the suns fading light. When the purple haze didn’t disappear, you groaned, thinking you were in for a long night with a pounding head. But when you were in front of your girlfriends door, you smiled. Headache or no headache, you were excited. When you raised your hand to knock, you realized the door was slightly ajar.

“Agatha?” You called out quietly as you pushed the door open, stepping into her home. You realized you were wrong with your assumption, Agatha’s home looking clean and put together as ever. Only one thing seemed out of place. The book on her table. You walked over as if you were in a trance, setting your basket down on the table.

The books pages were disintegrating but also reforming with every second, dark tendrils weaving in and out of the pages. You squinted slightly, attempting to read the words. You gasped once you realized what you were looking at.

A spell book.

A real spell book.

You had read Demonologie and other such witch inspired books but this…this seemed to radiate danger and power while the others merely held ramblings of scared men in power. You traced the book lightly with your fingers, as if it would disappear if you were too harsh.

“Oh my-” you whispered under your breath as it hit you what this could mean. Agatha was casting spells.

Agatha Harkness was a witch.

You heard a gasp behind you, followed by the sound of things dropping to the floor. You turned around, Agatha standing behind you with wide eyes going from the spell book on her table to you.

“Y/N, I-” she swallowed, her mouth going dry. She wasn’t expecting you today, she had planned to get this one incantation done before inviting you for a stroll later that week. Agatha had only left her table for a moment, going to the basement to retrieve the needed items for the spell. Those items were now rolling around near her feet as she stood frozen in fear.

You knew.

You knew she was a witch and she had no idea how you would react.

Sure, you spoke negatively about the witch hunters and their rigged trials meant to target women with minds or girls who refused a man but that didn’t mean you were okay with magic. Hell, you probably still believed it was a story used to scare children into following the rules, not a reality that helps the universe forge new outcomes.

“Agatha?” Your soft voice broke her out of her daze, reality snapping back to her. She quickly came over to the table, slamming the book shut and covering it protectively with her hands.

“It’s not what you- I mean, I can’t- You should go.” Agatha tripped over her words, trying and failing to not let her panic show. You stood calmly in front of her, watching her with new eyes as she looked everywhere but you.

“I understand if you don’t want to-”

“How do you do it?” You interrupted Agatha’s sad whisper, causing her eyes to snap towards you. She blinked rapidly, trying her best to absorb your words. A smile grew on your face at her confused expression. You came to stand in front of her, looking into her eyes.

“How does it work? Magic?”

Agatha watched as curiosity and excitement filled your eyes, taking on a childlike wonder. She smiled softly before taking your hand in hers as she dragged you to the middle of the room. She let go of your hand, bringing both her hands up in a way she would if she was holding something. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening her eyes. You gasped, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. Her eyes glowed a luminescent purple, overtaking the blue of her irises. You lowered your hand in wonder once you saw the magic swirling around Agatha’s hands, coming to form a small sphere of magic in between her palms.

“What does it feel like?” You whispered, holding back from reaching out to touch the magic. Agatha smiled, all her panic melting away. She transferred the ball of power to one of her hands, levitating it expertly. She took your hand in her free one, a mischievous look in her eyes.

“I can show you.”

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion about to ask what she meant when a surge of energy went through you. Looking down, you saw Agatha’s magic swirling around you, seeping into your skin. You felt powerful, beautiful, untouchable. When she retracted her magic, you let out a laugh.

“Wow…thats- you feel like that when you do magic?”

Agatha nodded, about to respond, not expecting a hand to slap her shoulder. Her jaw dropped as she rubbed her shoulder, watching as you crossed your arms and pouted.

“I can’t believe you kept this from me! Gods above this is amazing!”

Agatha laughed at your pout before defending herself.

“Well, I didn’t know how you would react! What if you thought me a monster or even worse, broke up with me?”

You looked at her, biting your lip while shaking your head, looking up at the ceiling before setting your gaze on your girlfriend, who looked a bit anxious.

“I could never think you a monster or break up with you, you ding-dong! Now, tell me what is up with that freaky book because I’m pretty sure I saw it breathing earlier.”

a/n: i hope this was okay! I severely enjoyed writing this prompt and i hope you enjoyed it!! Thank you for reading 💜