#anchored ashore

[sabrina-valerie]

Imagine hearing your f/o singing under their breath, thinking you can't hear them, and getting startled when you start singing along to their tune. The two of you make quite the duet!

[ltwilliammowett]

Old naval slang

A small collection of terms from the 18th - early 20th century that were and probably still are known among sailors.

Admiralty Ham - Royal Navy canned fish Batten your hatch - shut up Beachcomber - a good-for-nothing Cape Horn Fever - feigned illness Cheeseparer - a cheat Claw off - to avoid an embarrassing question or argument Cockbilled - drunk Cumshaw - small craft - Chinese version of scrimshaw Dead Marine - empty liquor bottle Donkey's Breakfast - mattress filled with straw Dunnage - personal equipment of a sailor Flying Fish sailor - sailor stationed in Asian waters Galley yarn - rumour, story Hog yoke- sextant Holy Joe - ship's chaplain Irish hurricane- dead calm Irish pennant - frayed line or piece of clothing Jamaican discipline - unruly behaviour Knock galley west - to knock a person out Leatherneck - a marine Limey - a British sailor Liverpool pennant - a piece of string used to replace a lost button Loaded to the guards - drunk Old Man - captain of the ship One and only - the sailor's best girl On the beach - ashore without a berth Pale Ale - drinking water Quarterdeck voice - the voice of authority Railroad Pants - uniform trousers with braid on the outer leg seam Railway tracks - badge of a first lieutenant Round bottomed chest - sea bag Schooner on the rocks - roast beef and roast potatoes Show a leg - rise and shine Sling it over - pass it to me Slip his cable - die Sundowner - unreasonable tough officer Swallow the anchor - retire Sweat the glass - shake the hour glass to make the time on watch pass quickly - strictly forbidden ! Tops'l buster - strong gale Trim the dish - balance the ship so that it sails on an even keel Turnpike sailor - beggar ashore, a landlubber claiming to be an old sailor in distress Water bewitched - weak tea White rat - sailor who curries favor with the officers

Sailors' Language, by W. Clark Russell, 1883 Soldier and Sailor Words and Phrases. Edward Fraser and John Gibbons, 1925 Sea Slang, by Frank C. Bowen, 1929 Royal Navalese, by Commander John Irving, 1946 Sea Slang of the 20th century, by Wilfried Granville, 1949 The Sailor's Word Book, by Admiral W.H. Smyth, 1967

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

ShortFic

here the storys masterlist. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: cussing/language, use of alcohol, mature content ✦ Spoiler: none

wordcount: 6328

It annoys you that you're starting to develop feelings for Ace. Unlike you, he's just unreliable, messy and has no brains. Sure he's hot as the sun but how can a woman like you be into a guy like him?

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Xuan

"Hey gorgeous, watcha doing?" With his stupid big grin, he steals the sun you were enjoying a moment ago. You exhale a little annoyed but don't look up from your book. You calmly flip the page.

"Isn't it obvious?" It comes from your lips. You sound rather bored by his unnecessary question, but it's impossible to ignore the displeased undertone.

"Mmm bitey as always…" Any other man would be offended, would insult you and leave but Ace finds it quite amusing. He finds it rather fun that you're not throwing yourself at his feet.

Your eyes remain on the words in your book. You won't grant Ace the satisfaction of giving him a single glance. You would only be forced to look at his sly smile and his splendid torso. Gross.

"Okay, let me see what you're reading?" Ace's hand reaches for your book and now he is the one flipping through it. You are a little perplexed, your hands still in the air as if you had the book in your hands, but the confusion quickly fades and you stand up, annoyed.

You want to take the book away from him but all your efforts are in vain because he skillfully keeps you at a distance. You accept your defeat and cross your arms in front of your barely dressed chest.

You just wanted to sunbathe a little before you drop anchor ashore, but Ace has to annoy you again.

Your eyes rest on his utterly beautiful lips. You despise yourself for your thoughts while he reads a few lines from your book, but you listen to him intently and after each sentence you have to laugh a little at his comments even though you roll your eyes. He looks pretty hot as he tries to analyze your book... with a strained expression, he thinks about those things he read.

"…That's why Cunt describes the awakening, or rather: the awakening, of reason as a second birth…." he quietly mumbles the rest to himself "…a beginner who is able to begin for himself….????" He frowns very hard and gestures at the book.

"Who the hell understands that!" You put one hand on your hip and snatch the book from him, with a puff of annoyance.

"First of all, I understand it and secondly, it's pronounced Kant and not Cunt!" - "Yea sounds the same…"

He seems confused but doesn't quite understand that he has just named one of your favorite philosophers a cunt. You roll your eyes again, you've done that so many times now, that you should be getting dizzy.

Arrogantly, you walk past him and toss your hair over your shoulder. Ace's confusion quickly fades as he inhales your sweet, floral scent, which has a pinch of salt from the fresh ocean breeze.

"I'll soften you up, y/n." He calls after you and without you turning to face him, you flash him your middle finger.

Once in the kitchen, you made yourself a drink to calm your nerves. You know that you're a pretty deep woman, but you've experienced several times that men aren't interested in woman like you.

As soon as someone realizes how smart or intellectual you are, they simply turn their back on you. You are sick and tired of people only liking you for your appearance but not your inner self. Why is that? Is it too exhausting for them? Are they too stupid?

You exhale in frustration and throw a straw into your drink. This is the very reason why you are not happy, that you like Ace. He's not exactly the brightest candle on the cake, but he has that special spark, that makes you want to keep your eyes on him. What if he just wants to get his hands on you and then throws you away like the others?

"You're groaning a lot again, little lass…" You flinch as if lightning struck you and you slowly turn around, only to see Marco drinking his coffee and browsing through the newspaper without looking at you.

"Gosh Marco… Tell me you're here, jeez!" You put your hand on your chest while leaning against a wooden plank.

The man looks up at you from his newspaper with an raised eyebrow.

"I was here first." He rustles the paper briefly to get it back into shape and turns his attention back to the latest headlines.

"Besides, how can you be so blind and not notice me? It's not like I'm hiding here…" Mumbles the commander of the first division. You stop as you sip your drink.

He's right. He's obviously sitting at the table. You should have seen him when you came in, but you seem to be too absorbed in your own thoughts.

"Whatever, sorry."

You wave him off as you walk back out the door.

The sun greets you directly and you notice that the deck is a little busier. Apparently we'll be docking ashore soon. You're walking across the deck towards the railing when someone calls out to you.

"Hey y/n you should start getting ready, we'll be in Mocktown in 10 minutes." Says Jozu, who is hauling in the sail with a few shipmen.

"Thanks boss!" You call out to your commander.

You could already see it in the distance, the island of Jaya. You quickly made your way to your private cabin. Of course you don't want to go ashore completely in a bikini, even if the weather is good, but Mocktown is still a criminal city and you have no desire to be seen as a cheap prostitute.

You quickly put on a short pleated skirt, attach your gun holster to your thigh and for a moment you think about whether you should just leave your bikini on or put on a shirt. You shrug your shoulders and think to yourself, why not?

Even if some idiots whistle after you, you'll always be at the safest place in the world with your crew members. After all, you're one of the Whitebeard pirates.

Just before you were about to go ashore with Whitey, you stop on your heels.

You watch as Ace is already on land, in the company of a few lightly dressed girls. You can see how much he enjoys being wooed by the beautiful women. He's such a show off. You think to yourself as you roll your eyes.

"Well well, where are your eyes going again, sweetie." It wasn't a question... Whitey knows exactly who you're watching as she stands next to you at the railing. She rests one elbow on the railing and puts her chin in one hand.

"Just look at him… The way he flaunts himself in front of those chicks and acts like a clown... bleurgh..." Not in a million years would you admit that the show Ace gives these women is fucking dope. He plays with his devil fruit power like a fire eater, juggling fireballs, surrounding himself with flames and giving the ladies a little show.

It clearly annoys you and somehow you don't like it, that the ladies are allowed to admire Ace so obviously.

You don't think twice and start to act. You point one finger in Ace's direction and move your index finger in small circular movements.

Behind Ace, who is still playing with his fire, the water on the shore rises without anyone noticing. When the water is high enough, you pull your finger slightly to the right and all the water falls on Ace and extinguishes him.

Steam rises from Ace as he stands in front of the women, drenched in water. He tries to shake some of the water off him, which makes you laugh.

You quickly leave the ship with your friend and together you go to your troop of the third division.

Whitey hooks her arm into yours and comes a little closer to your ear so no one can hear her words.

"You jealous, beastly bitch…" You give her a humming laugh. You may be jealous, but what does it matter? That crush will soon fade away anyway.

While you and Whitey ran a few errands for the whole crew, Jozu waited for you and watched who went in and out of the store. Two beautiful women like you need to be protected in a shady place like this. It's not that you're weak, it's more like a rule.

You came out of the store with a lot of bags. Jozu's eyes widened as he looked over the bulging shopping bags.

"What have you bought again? Do we really need all this?" He questioned but also grabbed all the purchases to carry them for you.

You look up at the tall man with a raised eyebrow.

"Well listen Jozu. You're lucky we do this shopping, if we didn't, we could wipe our asses with meat because food is all YOU think about!" You boldly point your finger at your commander, who shrinks back a little with beads of sweat on his face.

A nervous laugh escapes his lips and he apologizes quietly.

"Save it boss. At least we can decide what quality the paper is. The last person who was responsible for this basically bought sandpaper!" You complain with your arms crossed as you walk down the street. The commander and Whitey laugh at your little tantrum, but your walk is suddenly interrupted when a small child falls in front of you and different items fall from his arms.

Bread and fruit rolled across the ground and to your feet. The boy hastily jumped up and picked up the food. You didn't hesitate and went straight to the ground to help the child. You immediately notice how anxiously the child looks around and seems to want to get away very quickly.

"Hey are you okay kiddo?" You ask carefully with so much care in your voice, which is rarely heard from you. You are known for being quick and merciless, but with children you become a big sis.

The boy, no more than 8 years old, looked up at you with fear in his eyes when he saw the Jolly Roger on your skirt. Again he dropped his food, fell to the ground and frantically scrambled backwards. Meanwhile, you can hear an angry mob in the distance. You suspect the boy has stolen the food by the look of him.

No shoes, torn clothes and a dirty face. The sight makes you sad; it reminds you of yourself. You were just like him before Whitebeard took you in.

You stand protectively in front of the boy and Jozu and Whitey also stand around the boy so that he is protected from all sides.

You keep your hand ready to draw your revolver in case of need. The angry people shout and demand that you hand the boy over, but you're definitely not going to do that. The little boy didn't even steal much and from the looks of it, the food seemed more like scraps that the stores threw in the trash.

You click your tongue. You can't believe they get so angry when it's just a few pathetic scraps. You lose your patience and in the blink of an eye you've already shot all the angry people in front of their feet. The people were visibly frightened by your speed and people around you started whispering.

"Oh my god it's the Whitebeard pirates!" - "Look! Jozu, the commander of the third devision…" - "And isn't that the right hand; the Revolver?"

By Revolver, they mean you. That's your nickname, but only for the rest of the world. In fact, you have to thank the Marines for that cool nickname. They didn't know your real name because you were just a teenager living on the street, you were born without a name.

Back then you were already pretty good with a revolver, it helped you keep yourself afloat but it was a dirty life. You quickly became known to the Marines and had your own wanted poster with the name 'Revolver'.

Then one day you came across Whitebeard and you set your mind on robbing him... You knew who he was but you were ignorant and thought you were faster than him but you were definitely no match for Whitebeard... You could count yourself lucky because he saw potential in you and asked you to join his crew.

Whitebeard was also the one who gave you your name and since then you see it as your duty to make him proud as a daughter.

You suddenly heard a man's voice calling from above and your gaze went up to the roofs.

"Hey, what's with all the ruckus?" The sun blinds you a little and with squinted eyes you could make out Ace's silhouette. Ace landed in front of you with a wave of fire and the people froze, no longer looking angry but more like they were shitting their pants. One of them took to his legs in his hands and screamed as he ran away.

"Nope, the commander and the revolver are already a big deal, but you can't survive Ace's devastating fire!" Ace just laughed like a fool and held his stomach as he watched the wimps make a run for their lives.

Your attention was on the boy who threw himself crying into your arms. You stroked his head and Jozu and Whitey picked up the food again.

"Hm, unfortunately the food is already pretty dirty… you can't eat that." Whitey whispered to Jozu.

When you notice a shadow above you, you look up at Ace, who was looking at the boy with a serious face. The look surprised you quite a bit, There is no trace of his usually playful expression that Ace always has.

He crouches down to you two and reaches into his pocket to pull out a bag.

"Hey little guy, do you live alone?" The little boy sniffled heavily before answering him.

"No, I live with my mother and two brothers..." - "Heyyyy, I have two brothers too!" The boy turned around. The fact that Ace was talking to him seemed to calm him down a little. No wonder, Ace had once again made a unique appearance and looked like a cool superhero. You watch Ace interact with the boy.

"Really?" - "Yeah, I'm the oldest of the three of us!" The boy wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes.

"I'm also the oldest of us…" - "Yeah, that's what I thought… You just wanted to look after your family, didn't you?" Ace said as he looked at the food. The tears rolled down his dirty cheeks again as the boy nodded in agreement.

"You know what? This should be enough for now... buy plenty of food with it and make sure no one catches you with that much money!" Ace placed a sack full of money in the boy's hand. The weight caused the boy's slender hand to drop a little and his eyes widened with tears.

"Are you serious?" Ace just smiled at him with a nod and patted him on the head. He straightened up again and your eyes went up to him, mesmerized by his kindness. He gave him quite a lot of money and once again you found another reason to like Ace. The way he treated the child warms your heart, but inside you curse yourself...

When you arrived at the pub, you took a seat in a corner, where a few others from your division were already sitting and the waiters brought you your drinks.

Ace, on the other hand, begged and pleaded with the owner of the bar to let him pay later, but the owner knows the area and doesn't trust anyone to pay their debts.

You could no longer stand to watch your second commander beg a measly bartender and with an annoyed groan you made your way over to Ace.

"What do you want Ace." You say coolly, not even looking at him. Ace quickly realizes what you're up to and his sad face turns to joy.

"Food and booze!" He puts his hands together as if worshipping you. You somehow like that he makes himself small and a tiny smile appears on your face.

"Let the man order what he wants, I'll pay for it." - "Awww y/n, you got something good with me!" You raise an eyebrow as you look into his wide grin. He's pretty close to you and you draw in your breath inaudibly as your heart threatens to explode but you don't let it show on the outside.

Before your face turns completely red, you turn around and go back to your seat.

How you missed just sitting in one of those shabby pubs, laughing with your comrades while prying ears tried to listen to the stories you could tell.

But today it's all about fun and relaxing, so there's nothing important for the shady characters around to catch. Anyway, you wouldn't be stupid enough to discuss important things in public. Maybe their eyes are only on you because they are curious or even tense.

With every sip of your drink, the desire to mess with one of the dark figures increases. You're in the mood for a bar fight, because the last few weeks have been pretty quiet.

You were undercover in Alabasta for a long time and two weeks ago your crew picked you up again. You're glad to be out of there. All that sand and the dry air has damaged your skin and you've really missed life on the Moby Dick.

You realized that a lot had changed during your absence, because suddenly there was a new commander. The commander of the second division to be precise. Jozu had informed you about the latest events from time to time, but you hadn't expected Ace.

"Hey doll, I've never seen you here before…" A halfway attractive guy blabbered at you from the side while swaying and leaning onto your table.

Your eyes shift to the side without moving your head. That guy reeks of alcohol... Brave of him to talk to you, but maybe this could be the entertainment you've been looking for?

Your lips are curled in to a malicious smile. You look up at him with your dreamy eyes.

"What's up, big boy?" you wink at him in a seductive voice. You can probably get a few drinks out of him while thinking about how much money you've already spent, since Ace drinks like a hangover is just a rumor... If the drunk refuses, you can always blow a bullet through his head and be done with him.

It was easier than you thought to wrap the rascal around your fingers and he bought not only you a drink but also the others! You almost felt sorry for him when you pulled his wallet out of his coat but well… you're a thief and a pirate. It's his own fault because he couldn't take his eyes off you. It was just too easy.

"Ohhh y/n that was really nasty again. The poor guy really thought you fancied him."

You answer your commander with a little dirty laugh. Unconcerned, you shrug your shoulders and sip your newly snatched drink, paid with the money you stole from the guy whose name you don't even remember.

"'Aww come on… it's funny. The 'poor' guy, as you call him, will arrive at the hotel, go to the room and meet whoever the hell is there!" you laugh diabolically until tears gather in your eyes. You're not the only one laughing… the others are laughing too and even Jozu has to admit to himself that it's hilarious.

You've done this a couple of times and every time you've proved how dick driven guys can be...

You really played with that guy's mind when you flirted with him. Little random touches and your laughter sounded so sincere as he told his stories... But in the end, guys usually want more than just to sit in a pub with you, so you always come up with something new.

On the way to the pub you saw a hostel… So you wrote down that exact hostel and a room number on a piece of paper. You told him that you would meet him there later at 8 pm because you still wanted to have some fun with your crew and the idiot believed you.

Whitey started to laugh, she seemed to be imagining the whole thing.

"I wonder who he'll run into in that room?" You all burst out laughing. Too bad you won't find out.

The evening went pretty well and you have to admit that Ace is a pretty cool guy. He was one of the few who raised the mood and you kept catching each other sneaking glances.

The table gradually emptied until only Jozu, Whitey, Ace and you were left. Jozu told you the story how Ace wanted to kill Whitebeard at the beginning. The stories made you laugh like crazy. You were already stupid, but killing Whitebeard? That's crazy.

You caught Ace blushing a little and scratching his head in shame while Jozu was talking, but he let Jozu talk about his stupid actions. Because of his sweet expressions, your laughter slowly died down as you looked up at him. Over time, your seats had changed so that you were sitting between Whitey and Ace and you press your elbow into his side.

"Oh don't make such a face Ace. I think that makes you really likeable!" Like the buddy you are, you raise your drink to him and symbolize that you want to clink glasses with him.

Ace froze for a moment because of you. He wasn't used to you beeing like this but he actually likes this side of you. He returns your grin and clinks glasses with you.

Usually you're not that bitchy. You get along with everyone. Ace is the only one you were so distant with from the start, and not just because he swept you off your feet. It sounds shallow, but from the first moment you saw him, you felt a spark inside you. A slight tickle in your chest.

The real reason for your cold manner is rather because he was given the position of commander of the second division. You worked really hard for the position and were one of the few candidates, but suddenly he comes along aaaand gets the job. You didn't even know that Ace was the one when he stood in front of you. It was only later that Jozu told you that he was the one who got the job and the spark in you shattered like a mirror.

But you have to admit that Ace is still doing a good job. He's actually pretty strong. You remember how some wannabe pirates tried to attack you, but Ace quickly wiped them out by setting their ship on fire. It was kind of beautiful… this burning ship in the middle of the ocean…

"Hey girl what are you thinking about?" Whitey nudges you while you're lost in thoughts holding your chin in your hand.

"Ace…" you babble, responding directly to her question but in a rather absent manner. All of you react immediately to your answer…

Whitey looks at you with a raised eyebrow while Ace freezes as he drinks. You quickly realize that you've somehow admitted that you were thinking about Ace. Oh dear, you probably had a little too much to drink… You straighten up and clear your throat.

"…Ace… tell me… where are you from?" You try to rock the boat, even though you think it's in vain, but luckily for you, the dark haired man answers you and joins in ignoring what you just said. The mood is a little awkward, but from the outside you don't allow to show any signs of embarrassment… On the inside, however, you're ripping the hair from your head in humiliation.

"Oh dear, look at the clock, it's almost 8pm… I think I'd better get back to the Moby before that guy comes back after he finds out I'm not staying at that hostel." A little slyly, you laugh into your hand as you stand up.

"I should go with you…" Ace gets right up and wants to follow you "…you know, in case you run into him and need some firepower." You look back over your shoulder at him and grin as he forms a finger gun with his hand and shoots little balls of fire.

"Do what you gotta do Firefist…" You voiced his name a little sexier than you intended, but you're so drunk right now that you don't give a fuck.

As you walked side by side through the dark alleys, you had the feeling that you didn't want the evening to end. You are alone with Ace. No one would tease you for it, seeing how well you get along with him all of a sudden…

"Hey Ace… Wanna go flick some rocks on the waterside?" He looks at you a bit surprised, while you continue to look ahead.

"Yeah sure, sounds fun!"

And so it came that the two of you were flicking stones over the water's surface a little away from the city. You made it a competition to see how many times you could bounce the stone on the water and you expected nothing less than Ace to have a good hand.

You watch him as he skillfully swings out from the hip to throw the pebble. His muscles twitched slightly as he released the tension in his body. It's a good thing he runs around without a shirt…

As you both watch the stone splash across the surface, Ace breaks the silence.

"Listen y/n, I know you were supposed to get the commander's spot and I think you would have pretty much rocked the position…" You perk up at his words…

I would have got the position? You've never heard that before. Ace had to grin a little when he saw your questioning face.

"Yes, Edward told me that he wanted to leave the second division to you… But in the end he decided against it." You both took a seat on the beach and you looked thoughtfully at the open sea.

What made him choose Ace as commander and not me? What does he have, that I don't?

Ace finally gets a chance to look at your face in peace. You look so harmless and gentle as you gaze out to the sea. Your eyes literally shine due to the moon's reflection in the water.

"Do you want to know why?" You turn your head and look directly into his black eyes.

"Sure…" you answer a little absently as you look repeatedly at his lips. Ace leaned back, propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at the starry sky.

"He told me a lot about you, how he took you in and how he views you. He treats us all like his children, but he once said to me that if he had a daughter, she would definitely be like you…" You pull your legs towards you and hide your smile. You know he treats you a little differently from the others, that's definitely no secret.

Even though you were thirteen when he took you in, he was the parent you've always longed for. He raised you and taught you your values. He has a great influence on you…

Even though these words flatter you, they don't satisfy you. You lean back and cross your arms behind your head.

"Well, if I mean that much to him, he should name me commander of the first division!" You say cheekily, but more in a funny way. Ace bursts out laughing and lies on his side to look at you.

"I don't know why either… I think you're super strong…" His praise is like music to your ears and it makes you even happier that he doesn't stop.

"I've heard the name Revolver a few times, but your wanted poster didn't reveal much about your appearance… There were stories told around the taverns… about the legendary Revolver shooting faster than his shadow and being quick as lightning." You start to laugh.

"Sounds like a cowboy." Ace looks down at himself, smirking, and you stop laughing when you notice him taking off his hat.

"The only thing missing is the hat…" he whispers to you as he puts his hat on your head. For a moment, you find yourselves trapped in the endless silence. You have already blocked out the sound of the waves and the only thing you can hear is Ace's breathing.

You think you've never looked into someone's eyes for so long before and if you're honest, you don't intend to look away. You catch your breath as Ace brushes a strand of hair out of your face and as a response to his warmth, you slightly open your mouth.

"The first time I saw you on the Moby Dick, talking to Whitebeard, I knew you were the special daughter, but I would never have guessed you were also the Revolver." - "Ah yes?" You ask him a little provocatively, meanwhile you've also rolled onto your side so that you're both facing each other with your upper bodies.

Ace is giving you a hard time, as he absently goes with his teeth over his lips, while looking down to gather his words.

"I actually thought the legendary Revolver was a guy who could be a good mate." His eyes glance past you as he grins a little sheepishly.

"Oh are you disappointed that I'm not a guy?" - "Quite the opposite…" He carefully moves his hand over the sand until he touches your fingers like it's just pure coincidence. You don't quite react to his touch, you're more interested in what he says next.

"You're also not from bad parents, Firefist…" The heated atmosphere between you is hard to ignore. Ace finally dares to lean down towards you and you can already see what's coming. You place a finger on his lips and gently press him back.

"But I don't have time for playing games with boys…" Your words escape your lips in a whisper as you search his eyes for a reaction.

"I'm not a boy y/n, I'm a man." He couldn't have said it better. His words trigger feelings in you that you desperately want to explore and lightly you support yourself to rest your lips on his.

The kiss is so gentle and innocent, as if your lips have to get used to the incredible feeling. The fire that Ace ignites in you is a thousand times stronger than anything you've ever felt before and yet your lips barely touched.

Your chest expands with excitement as Ace increases the pressure on your lips and grabs the back of your neck with one hand. You lean back slightly and enjoy the feeling of his hold.

"Ace?" You break the kiss and speak softly against his lips.

"I don't want to share a man. I want you all to myself, you understand?" You know that Ace is a womanizer and you have the feeling that he could break your heart… no matter how much you enjoy this… you're still crew members.

"I'd be crazy if I didn't take Whitebeard's favorite seriously…" Ace's words on your lips make everything in your stomach twist and somewhat out of control, you lean against him. You want to feel his fire.

You don't hesitate for long and your lips quickly meet again. This time neither of you takes the time because this rising feeling is so strong that you both have to let it out.

Ace's other hand wanders along your side while still holding the back of your neck. The tingling sensation gathers directly in your lower middle and you throw your arms around his neck, causing Ace to fall backwards a little. Eagerly, you explore his upper body with your fine fingers and go up and down his muscular frame.

While Ace gains access into your mouth, he pulls you by your arm onto his lap so that you sit on him without your lips parting once.

You begin to feel like you're craving another body for the very first time and slightly out of breath, you pull away from his lips.

You look down at Ace as he stares up at you with hungry eyes. His gaze is already so fucking hot and you long for more reactions in his face.

Your hand goes lightly to your back to undo the bow of your bikini but Ace stops you.

"Let me touch you y/n…" His voice is deeper than usual and there's something so playful about it that you can't help but surrender to him completely.

Ace's hands wander along your side until his hands are on your breasts. You've been used to the cool air for a long time, but it's Ace's hands that gives you goose bumps as they brush against your bare skin. Your nipples harden as Ace brushes your bikini top aside.

For a moment, he enjoys your womanly curves and the way the moon glistens on your skin.

"You're so fucking hot…" Ace suddenly comes up to you and pulls you into an intense French kiss. You rest your hands on his shoulders and moan slightly as he places skillful kisses on your neck. His hands rest on your hips only to push you back and forth on his lap with circular movements to relieve his arousal.

Ace knows exactly the right moves to get you going and caresses one of your nipples with his tongue while lightly pinching and pulling the other.

These overwhelming sensations make you laugh like a dirty whore as you start to move your hips to feel his erection against your wet panties. You are happier than ever that you are wearing a skirt today. But you don't want to have a dry fuck as you are far too wet for that. You want to feel Ace's dick sliding inside you…

You push Ace backwards and force him to lie down while you undo the belt of Ace's pants with your free hand.

"So we're about to get down to business, huh?" he grins dirtily at you as he crosses his arms behind his head. You run your tongue over your teeth and return his grin.

"We'll have plenty of time to explore each other thoroughly, darling." You wink at him and his breathing quickens a little as you grab his member to get it out of his pants.

Fascinated, you run your hand up and down his shaft, causing the otherwise ruthless man beneath you to whimper in relief. His cock gets a little firmer as your hand touches it, to which your cunt reacts in equal measure.

You lift yourself up a little, pull your slip to the side and place Ace's already hard cock in front of your entrance. As the tip of his cock touched your soft folds, a shiver ran down your spine and you slowly let its entire length disappear inside of you. As he filled you completely, Ace moaned in a deep, satisfied voice.

"That's never felt so good as it does now y/n…" His broken voice sends the next shiver down your spine and the growl in his voice runs through you.

At first you wanted to move slowly to get used to the filling sensation of his glory but Ace had other plans...

He bent his legs and started thrusting into you, sending you into bliss over and over again.

You're really glad that you're far away from anyone because you can fully indulge in the sensation and moan to your heart's content.

You have no idea how long this up and down has been going on, but you have the feeling that hours as well as just seconds could have passed.

You lean down to him to taste his lips on yours, but you pull away again because you enjoy it more when you straighten your back as Ace fills you up completely. You don't even think about stopping riding Ace and when you see his hat you somehow have the urge to put it on.

With some effort you reach for Ace's hat which was lying in the sand and put it on while you enjoy riding him to the fullest. The sight of you topless, in just your skirt and his hat, is enough to drive Ace crazy. He can barely contain his voice and moans like he's never done before.

"Mhhm yeah, ride me, cowgirl." His voice a little hoarse and dangerous.

That's probably the second nickname you really like.

Masterlist

Oh Ace.... ♡

➽ Next chapter

[madschiavelique]

you know those perfumes that are supposed to be based on “pheromones” or whatever that are supposed to make you more attractive?

imagine that… with Miguel… who already has extra sensitive smell… I’m just— 😳

OMG anon i TOTALLY see what u referenced right here. the man will be on his knees

summary ➤ you got one of these pheromones perfumes that went viral and Miguel notices it pairing ➤ miguel x gender neutral reader

content warnings ➤ none in particular, just miggy sniffing u word count ➤ 841

You had seen some reels on instagram or some tik toks where lots of people, especially women, were trying on these perfumes with pheromones, and you'd managed to get hold of one of these famous things out of sheer curiosity. You examined it a little, wondering what effect it might give, then decided why not give it a try? After all, that's what it was created for. So you applied it to basic heat points, focusing on your wrists, the inside of your elbows and, of course, your neck. Determining for yourself whether it worked was impossible, you needed someone else to try this, so you simply wandered around the society as you would do on the basis, a few glances turning towards you as you strolled to Miguel's office. You entered the office as if nothing had happened, making your way to the platform where Miguel was silhouetted in his usual busy-man way. Most of the spiders in society had a keen sense of smell, as did you, but this scent was designed to attract the noses of a targeted audience, so you wondered how he would react. "Hi gorgeous," you smiled, the platform slightly raised just three meters above you as you walked towards it. He did not even turn around, his eyes deeply anchored on his holopad and mind burried in work, mumbling all the same as you came within a few steps of the platform, stopping in your tracks: "Hey cariño,” he sighed, sliding something from one holopad to the other, “how are-" But he immediately stops his sentence, and you can hear him inhaling a sharp but short breath. You smile, he noticed really quickly. He pivoted slightly on the side, showing you his profile, eyebrows furrowed, sniffing again a little more slowly, his chest swells as his lungs fill with the slightest ounce of it. His head turns to yours on the spot, his eyes immediately landing on yours. "What's that?" Touché. He'd taken the bait, and hard. He turned fully towards you, beginning the descent from the platform. "What's what?" you asked, concealing your excitement incredibly well, as if the questioning made you genuinely confused as you pulled every string of your web to perfection for your little prey to get stuck. He didn't even wait until the platform was completely ashore before stepping off, pressing the pace towards you. "That," he repeated, his eyebrows furrowing as each step closer to you made him smell that inebriating scent. "What do you mean 'that'?" you say, a little laugh that's half confused and half amused taking hold of you. "You changed something," he said, fluttering his eyes as he finally reached your height and the smell became more and more powerful.

Once he was close enough to you, he closed his eyes, taking another deep breath as he opened them again the next second. Is it you, or has his pupil dilated? He took hold of your wrist, bringing it close to his lips and smelling the perfume on it, pressing his nose against your skin until it wrinkled and closing his eyes tightly just to be poisoned by the smell that seemed so exceptional. He opened his eyelids again, a slight tinge of red beginning to take hold of his irises. He gave you a look of new interest, lips parted as his eyes locked on yours. "Did you... buy a new lotion?" You let out a little breath of laugh from your nose, pretending not to understand a single thing he was saying. Most of the spiders in society had a keen sense of smell, as did you, but this scent was designed to attract the noses of a targeted audience, so you wondered how he would react.

"'No? What's the matter?" you ask as he listens intently, "What's changed?"

He stepped closer, his body towering over you as he tilted his head, bringing you face to face with him. Yeah, his pupils were truly dilated.

"There's something new, you..." he seemed to consider his words for a moment as he inhaled, moistening his lips, "smell different."

He came to smell your cheek, the skin of his nose brushing against yours and sending little shivers down your spine.

"Really?" you asked, smiling softly. You weren't regretting this discovery at all, and Miguel seemed to be of the same opinion. "How so?"

His eyelashes placed butterfly kisses on your cheek as he moved down a little further into the crook of your neck, the sensation of his breath spreading over your warm, scented skin sending little tingles up the back of your skull.

"It's..." he breathed, coming to place his hand previously on your wrist at the small of your back and pulling you towards him to get closer, "intoxicating."

You felt the warmth of his lips kiss tenderly down your neck, the distinct sensation of his canines tracing the warm skin of it as he let out a sigh.

"Lyla," he grunted against your skin, "Lock the door please."

Definitely a good investment.

[shiftersroom]

how to shift through a lucid dream, according to neville goddard

this method was inspired by neville goddard, and my friend @urlocal-limitesshbic’s dragon tales method. please check it out 💛

in neville goddard’s book “out of this world” he talks about shifting realities through a lucid dream.

“I have discovered that, if I surprise myself dreaming, I can lay hold of any inanimate or stationary form of the dream (a chair, a table, a stairway, a tree) and command myself to awake. At the command to awake, while firmly holding on to the object of the dream, I am pulled through myself with the distinct feeling of awakening from dream. I awaken in dream. I awaken in another sphere holding the object of my dream, to find that I am no longer the servant of my vision but its master, for I am fully conscious and in control of the movements of my attention.”

in another lecture neville talks about grabbing onto a piece of driftwood in a dream and when he woke up, he was in a reality actually in a body of water holding that piece of wood.

“Years ago I felt myself dreaming and I was swimming. I knew it was a dream. I looked up and saw the shore of a primitive island, not the little island where I was born, for that is well cultivated and in no way primitive, but this was primitive. I saw it was an island and I knew I was dreaming, and I saw these strange things like cement posts driven down through the water but they were in a state of decay. They could have been at one time part of a jetty. I could see this peculiar primitive beach and I prolonged the dream, for if you know you are dreaming you need not wake. Something in me began to tell me, as memory began to return, that if I would take hold of one of these pilings and not let it go, and awaken, I would awaken there. I felt it and it was solidly real, just as it would feel here, and my hand did not go through it, and I held on to it and made myself awake; and I awoke in that water on that beach and then I waded ashore. I was no more asleep in that sphere than I am here in this one.”

“It taught me a lesson that if I could touch anything in another world and compel myself to awaken while holding it, I would find it was real. So you do it for your world. A job you want, the home you would occupy, the marriage you want. Sit at the desk at which you would sit, live in the house you want to live in, be married to the sort of person you want to be married to, and if you hold to it in your imagination, then you will make it real in your outer world. The Ancients called this capacity the Western Gate, and tied it in with the sense of touch. If you can hang on to the thing you touch and then awaken, you will find that the thing has become real.”

how to use this method:

1. find an object that you will be holding onto when you wake up in your dr. make it something that would fit in your dr. for example, in my dr it’s 2014, so i’ll wake up holding my old iphone.

2. find that object in your cr. in your cr, it has no power. but in your dreams, it has the power to shift you.

3. use that object as a reality check throughout the day. hold it and ask yourself if you’re dreaming.

4. when you become lucid in a dream, find that object/manifest it (i find it easier to say that when you turn around, it’ll be there - trying to manifest things in dreams can use too much brain power and wake you up)

5. affirm that you are dreaming FROM your dr, and when you wake up, you’ll be holding your item IN your dr.

6. wake up!

the item acts as an anchor. sometimes when we shift through lucid dreams we feel disconnected and like we’re battling to wake up in our dr, but we have nothing firm to grasp to bring us through. but the item is a lifeline to your dr.

—

lmk if you use this method and how it goes!

[i-was-today-years-old-when]

i learned what is the most recent large animal to be discovered

Photo taken aboard the Navy vessel AFB-14, sailing off the coast of Kaneohe, Hawai'i. It's November 15, 1976.

Sea anchors are being hoisted , when you see something tangled up in the device..

It's a shark, and a huge shark.

This is the bigmouth shark (Megachasma pelagios).

These fish can grow very large - although not as impressive as, for example, a whale shark or a basking shark, large mouth sharks can grow to almost 6 meters in length.

It is impressive that these alien-looking sharks were able to remain hidden for so long.

Most of the huge creatures of the deep, such as sperm whales, scorpionfish, giant and colossal squids, etc., have long been known to scientists, albeit rather poorly. Scientists have long known about most deep sea creatures, even if not in detail. We've had carcasses that were washed ashore, specimens caught in nets and, in the case of the sperm whale, we've been hunting them for thousands of years.

Also, it's not like megamouths are super cunning and sneaky. They are relatively poor swimmers, even in deep water, and most of the time just float through the water column, sifting sea plankton into their cavernous mouths. Their bodies are flabby and fragile , such that sperm whales destroy them.

You'd expect such a poor swimmer to take to land all the time, but no. In 2018, fewer than 99 whale mega-specimens were recorded, most of which were carcasses washed ashore or entangled in nets.

Follow my Twitter/X account for more: www.x.com/noparkingtv

[212-apricity]

siren songs and stolen kisses, pilot

ssask masterlist main masterlist

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The summer sun was barely up when I reached the docks. The familiar, slightly salty air of the Outer Banks felt thick with humidity as I made my way toward the HMS Pogue, where the sounds of my friends' laughter echoed over the water. I'd only known Kiara, JJ, John B, and Pope for a couple of years, but it was enough to make them my whole world. Growing up a Cameron usually meant that you stayed on the other side of town, but Kiara changed that for me, and ever since then, the Pogues were my family.

As I got closer, I saw John B adjusting the sail, Pope with a map spread out on his lap, and Kiara leaning against the railing with a grin. Then there was JJ, leaning casually against the side of the boat, his shirt already off, blond hair mussed by the breeze, and his usual smirk firmly in place. That smirk always made my heart race, but I’d never let him know that.

“Look who finally showed up!” JJ called out, grinning at me as I reached the edge of the boat. “Thought maybe you decided to stick with the Kooks for once.”

“Oh, please,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Like I’d miss out on one of your harebrained schemes, Maybank.”

“Oh-ho, Princess Cameron decided to grace us with her presence!” JJ replied, extending a hand to help me aboard. The nickname — “Princess” — started as a joke about me being a Cameron, the high-and-mighty Kook family, but JJ managed to make it sound both teasing and… something else. I wasn’t sure what.

I rolled my eyes but took his hand, feeling the roughness of his palm as he pulled me onto the boat. He held onto my hand just a little longer than necessary, giving me that familiar, lopsided smirk before he let go.

“Alright, everyone here?” John B called out, getting everyone’s attention. “Kie, you got the cooler?”

Kiara held up a cooler filled with snacks and drinks, nodding. “Wouldn’t want to starve during one of your genius plans, would we?”

Pope, still scanning the map, shook his head. “John B’s plans don’t usually involve enough food for survival.”

I laughed, settling into my usual spot on the boat. JJ took his place next to me, and I felt his knee brush against mine. He did it so casually, but it was enough to make my skin tingle.

As we sailed out, John B filled us in on what he’d heard — stories of a wrecked boat washed ashore after the storm, strange lights, and rumors. Typical John B stuff. He was always looking for something, always chasing some mystery. It was just part of him, and despite all the times his plans had gone sideways, we all stuck with him. Today was no different.

We anchored near the marshlands and pulled up to an abandoned area that looked even creepier in the morning light. Mangled trees, debris scattered from the storm, and that eerie silence you only get in places humans have long abandoned.

“Alright, team, stay close,” John B instructed as he led us into the marsh. We walked through thick mud and twisted branches, ducking under vines and hopping over puddles.

As we walked, JJ fell into step beside me, leaning close. “Not too scared, are you, Princess?” he whispered, his voice low and playful.

“Please,” I scoffed, refusing to let him see how his teasing affected me. “This is nothing.”

JJ just chuckled, nudging me playfully. “Sure, sure. Just let me know if you need a big, strong Pogue to save you.”

I rolled my eyes and shoved him to the side, but couldn’t help the grin that tugged at my lips. JJ had a way of making even the creepiest situations feel like a game.

After what felt like ages, we finally reached the wreck. It was a beat-up old fishing boat, half-sunk in the marsh, but John B’s face lit up like he’d just found gold. He hopped on board, and naturally, we all followed, exploring the empty cabin and below deck.

JJ and I stuck together, rifling through drawers and storage boxes that hadn’t seen light in years. Every time he’d find something vaguely interesting — an old compass, a broken fishing rod, an empty can of beans — he’d hold it up like it was some incredible treasure.

“Look at this, Y/N,” he whispered, holding up a rusty pocket knife with a dramatic flourish. “Bet you’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Oh, a rusty knife? Be still my heart,” I replied, laughing.

JJ put a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Wow. You’re really hard to impress, aren’t you, Princess?”

I shoved him playfully. “Maybe if you actually found something cool.”

“Cool? You mean like this?” he asked, pulling out what turned out to be an old can opener.

I burst out laughing, and he joined in, his laughter echoing in the empty cabin. But before we could keep up our scavenger hunt, John B’s voice called out from above.

“Guys, I think I found something!”

We rushed up to find John B holding an old motel key, looking like he’d just discovered buried treasure.

“A motel key?” Pope raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Yeah, a motel key,” John B replied, grinning. “This could be a clue. Maybe my dad was here. We need to check it out.”

Before anyone could argue, JJ was nodding, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “Motel it is.”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

By the time we reached the motel, the sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the old, rundown building. The place was practically falling apart, its once-bright paint faded to a sad, chipped blue. Windows were either boarded up or shattered, and vines crawled up the sides like the place had been abandoned for years.

“This is definitely haunted,” Pope muttered as we crept through the empty parking lot.

“Oh, don’t worry, Pope,” JJ said, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “If any ghosts show up, I’ll protect you.”

“Real comforting, JJ,” I scoffed with a grin.

“Hey, I’ll protect you too, Princess,” he added, flashing me a wink.

I rolled my eyes, but the nickname still made me smile. We entered the motel room, stepping carefully over peeling floor tiles and broken glass. John B immediately got to work, rifling through drawers and checking under the bed. Pope went to search the closet, while Kiara stood by the door, keeping watch.

“Why do I always get lookout duty?” she grumbled.

“Because you’re the best at it?” John B offered, not even looking up from where he was tearing apart a nightstand drawer.

Kiara shot him a glare but kept her post.

I walked over to a cracked window with JJ, where the two of us peered out, watching for any signs of movement. I felt a little thrill of excitement, the rush of breaking the rules, of being somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. And having JJ beside me made it even better.

“What’s the plan if we actually find something?” I asked, looking over at him.

JJ shrugged, giving me that mischievous grin. “Run, scream, or fight. Same as always.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “Very reassuring.”

Before he could reply, a sound from outside froze us all in place. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, getting closer. We exchanged panicked glances, and John B motioned frantically toward the window.

“Out! The window!” he whispered urgently.

My stomach dropped as I looked out at the narrow ledge. We were on the second floor, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of shimmying along it. But before I could say anything, JJ grabbed my hand.

“Come on, Princess,” he murmured, his tone soft but firm.

He guided me to the window, helping me climb out onto the ledge. The height made my legs go weak, and I froze, feeling my heart pound in my chest. I froze when I saw how high up we were. The motel’s second story was a lot taller than I expected, and the drop looked… dangerous.

“JJ, I—” I started, feeling my pulse throb with the sudden surge of anxiety.

He gave me a soft look, sensing my fear. “Hey, it’s okay. I got you. Just trust me, alright?”

The footsteps were getting closer, and with no time to argue, I found myself climbing out the window and onto the narrow ledge with JJ by my side. The wind tugged at my hair, and my heart felt like it might burst out of my chest. I didn’t dare look down.

“Just look at me,” JJ said quietly, his voice surprisingly gentle. He placed his hand on my shoulder, steadying me. “Don’t think about the height. Just keep your eyes on me.”

His gaze was intense, his blue eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the height didn’t seem so terrifying. Slowly, I managed to inch forward, JJ staying close beside me the whole time.

When we finally made it to the end of the ledge and climbed down to the ground, I let out a shaky breath of relief. JJ grinned at me, a little too proud of himself. The world faded away for a moment — there was just me and JJ, inches apart, pressed together in the small space. His face was close enough that I could see every freckle, the tiny scar just above his eyebrow, and the way his gaze softened when he looked at me.

“You’re doing great, Y/N. Almost there,” he whispered with one of his hands still on my shoulder, and the other holding mine tightly.

I took a shaky breath, nodding slightly.

I opened my eyes again and saw his gaze still intense, his blue eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the height didn’t seem so terrifying. Slowly, I managed to inch forward, JJ staying close beside me the whole time.

When the footsteps receded and we heard the door click shut, JJ finally relaxed, giving me a grin. “See? Easy,” he said, but his arm stayed protectively around me, his warmth an anchor in the cold air.

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “I don’t make a habit of risking my life out windows.”

“And yet, here you are, risking life and limb with me. Admit it, Princess — you like it.”

I just rolled my eyes, shoving him playfully. But deep down, I knew he was right.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

We finally made it down from the ledge, our hearts still pounding from the close call. JJ grinned at me as we jogged away from the building, that cocky smirk in full force.

“See, told you we’d make it out in one piece,” he said, nudging my shoulder as we caught up with the others.

I rolled my eyes, though a smile slipped onto my face. “Oh sure, let’s just ignore that I was this close to falling two stories because of you.”

“Details, details,” JJ chuckled, tossing an arm around my shoulders. He gave a dramatic sigh, squeezing me. “You’d be bored without me around, Princess.”

It was the same teasing tone he always used, but there was a softness to it, a warmth that made me feel like I actually belonged here with them. I nudged him back, trying to play it cool, but I knew I was already hooked.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Once we were clear, we all slumped onto the deck, catching our breath. JJ looked over at me, breathless but grinning. “Not bad for a Cameron, huh?” he teased.

“Not bad yourself, Maybank,” I shot back, my heart still racing.

He laughed, reaching over to give me a playful shove. “Admit it. You love this.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

Once everyone got fairly settled, we set out across the water again, the thrill of the chase still buzzing through our veins. John B held up the motel key he’d found, waving it like a trophy.

“I’m telling you guys, this means something,” he said, grinning. “My dad was onto something, and now we’re onto it too.”

Pope crossed his arms, giving John B a skeptical look. “We’re onto a motel key, John B. Not exactly the stuff of legends.”

John B shook his head, determined. “I know it sounds small, but it’s a clue. The only clue I’ve had in years.”

Kiara chimed in, her face serious. “I get it, JB. We’re here for you.” She gave him a soft smile, one that we all echoed in our own way. We all knew how much this meant to him.

As John B steered us away from the shoreline, JJ reached into his waistband, pulling out something I hadn’t noticed before. It glinted in the fading light, and my eyes went wide when I saw what he was holding.

“JJ… is that a gun?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. My stomach twisted with a mix of fear and shock.

JJ flashed that infamous grin of his, looking way too pleased with himself. “Mhm, picked it up back at the motel,” he said, his voice casual, almost like he was talking about pocket change. He held the gun up for everyone to see, as if he’d just scored the day’s biggest prize as everyone exclaimed, telling him to put it down. Even a butterknife was dangerous in JJ’s hands.

John B’s eyes narrowed. “You stole a gun? From the motel?”

JJ shrugged, clearly unfazed. “We were already committing about three different crimes just being there. What’s one more?”

Kiara crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. “JJ, that’s not just ‘one more.’ That’s a gun.”

But JJ just chuckled, tucking it back into his waistband. “Relax. It’s for protection. You never know what we’re going to run into out here, and it’s not like anyone’s going to miss it.”

I shook my head, feeling a pang of worry. “JJ, what if someone actually… like, I don’t know… comes looking for it?”

He turned to me, flashing that cocky smirk that usually drove me crazy in the best way, but right now just had me more on edge. “You worry too much, Princess,” he said, patting the gun at his side. “Trust me, no one’s gonna miss this thing.”

“You sure about that?” Pope asked, raising an eyebrow. “What if someone shows up with a warrant, or they track it back to us?”

JJ waved a hand dismissively, clearly not concerned. “We’ll be long gone by then. Besides, they’d never expect to find anything on a bunch of Pogues.”

John B sighed, clearly torn. “Look, I don’t like it either, but… if we’re getting this deep, maybe it’s not the worst idea.”

JJ turned to me with that little glint in his eye, the one that made it impossible for me to stay mad at him. “See? Even John B’s on my side. We’re fine.”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

As we made our way back across the water, the sun started to set, casting orange and pink hues across the water. JJ stretched out beside me, leaning back with his hands behind his head, looking as carefree as ever.

“What’s the plan now, Captain?” he asked, glancing over at John B with a smirk.

“Now we go home and lay low until we can check this place out again,” John B replied. “We don’t want to make too much noise… and no one can know we’re doing this. Especially not Ward.”

Everyone nodded, understanding the unspoken rule: what we did as Pogues stayed between us. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little flutter of nerves. Ward Cameron, my dad, wouldn’t just be angry if he found out. He’d be furious. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

We spent the rest of the day laying low, sharing stories and planning our next move. Eventually, we docked back at John B’s place, exhausted but still buzzing from the excitement. As the sun set, we gathered around the firepit, passing around snacks and a few stolen beers.

JJ plopped down beside me, stretching his legs out and leaning back with a contented sigh. “Not a bad day,” he murmured, glancing over at me.

“Yeah,” I agreed softly, feeling the warmth of the fire and the lingering buzz of adrenaline. “One of the best.”

He grinned, scooting a little closer. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling lucky. I’d say this whole wreck hunt thing is our ticket to something big.”

“Think so?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement. “I mean, come on—John B’s dad, the gold, everything’s lining up. And you know what else?”

“What?”

JJ leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “No one’s better at this than us. No one’s got what we’ve got.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Right, a bunch of kids with no money, no backup plan, and a stolen life jacket. Real promising, JJ.”

But he just smirked, reaching over to give my hand a quick squeeze. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

We stayed out by the fire until the stars filled the sky, each of us sharing stories, dreams, and jokes until we couldn’t keep our eyes open. As we all headed back to our respective homes, JJ caught up with me, nudging my shoulder with his.

We walked in comfortable silence with each other for a bit until we got near to my house.

“I wouldn’t trade this for anything either.” I spoke into the cool July midnight, JJ ge gave me a rare, genuine smile, something soft and unguarded that made my heart flutter. “Good. Because I’d miss having you around to keep me in line.”

I laughed, shoving him lightly. “You’d be lost without me, Maybank.”

“True,” he replied, his voice warm. “Night, Princess.”

“Goodnight, JJ.”

As he walked off into the night, I realized that something had shifted. We’d crossed lines today, not just with the Coast Guard or with the hunt for the wreck, but something between me and JJ felt different. Stronger. And as I lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, I knew that this summer was going to change everything.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

i loved writing this one omg, i hope you guys liked it too, lmk what you think!!

[warpedpuppeteer]

Can we talk about how Buck shows his distress in a visceral physical way; shouting Eddie's name, insanely single minded intensity in rescuing him (his eyes during the sniper arc goddamn), saying out loud again and again about how he's got him, shaking hands, broken sobs but Eddie show's his distress in a more quieter way, almost folding it into himself; yes he does shout for Buck but also, when he saves Buck, he immediately becomes more subdued, he drove the truck even though I'm sure everything in him was screaming to be with Buck, he stays with the team and hugs them first and when he sneaks Chris in and cries, it's subdued too-wiping it off immediately, quiet. Even after getting shot when he asks Buck if he's hurt, it's more quiter and gentler (it's probably the blood loss but you know what I mean). Buck grieves with his whole body and heart and Eddie grieves with his soul is what I'm saying. They even complement each other in the way they grieve. Buck needs an anchor to keep him steady while he rages like a storm and Eddie needs someone whose arms he can quietly fall apart in, carrying him ashore gently.

[anonymousewrites]

Pearl of the Sea Chapter Five

Found Family! PoTC Cast x Teen! Reader

Platonic! Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow, Tia Dalma x Reader

Chapter Five: Arriving at Isla de Muerta

Summary: The Interceptor catches up to the Black Pearl, which means it's time to save Elizabeth. Or die trying (But hopefully not).

            Despite Jack’s compass not pointing north, though Gibbs insisted it still worked, and storms, the Interceptor made its way towards Isla de Muerta. A heavy fog covered the sea, and wrecks lined the way to the island itself.

            “Dead men tell no tales,” cawed Cotton’s parrot as they sailed in.

            “Puts a chill in me bones, how many honest sailors have been claimed by this passage,” said Gibbs.

            (Y/N) looked down and watched sharks pass by the shipwrecks below. Indeed, many lives had been lost in these waters.

            Will frowned and looked at Jack, who was steering the ship while glancing at his compass. (Y/N) was curious how it worked. If it didn’t point north, where did it point?”

            “How is it that Jack came by that compass?” asked Will, looking at Gibbs.

            “Not a lot’s known about Jack before he showed up in Tortuga with a mind to find the treasure of Isla de Muerta,” said Gibbs. “That was before I met him, when he captained the Black Pearl.”

            (Y/N) tilted their head. “He captained the Black Pearl?”

            Gibbs choked as he took a swig of rum. Clearly, he hadn’t meant to reveal that.

            “He didn’t mention that,” said Will suspiciously. He didn’t like how much Jack was hiding from them. It was dangerous. He’d have to keep an eye on (Y/N) in order to keep them safe.

            “He, uh, keeps things closer to the vest now,” said Gibbs. “A hard-learned lesson it was. Three days out on the venture, the first mate says, ‘everything’s an equal share. That means the location of the treasure, too.’ So, Jack gives up the bearings. That night, there was a mutiny. They marooned Jack on an island and left him to did, but not before he’d gone mad with the heat.”

            “Ah,” said Will. “So that’s the reason for all the…” He imitated Jack’s strange mannerisms.

            “Reason’s got nothing to do with it,” said Gibbs.

            “I think it might just be a Jack thing,” said (Y/N).

            “Now, Will, (Y/N).” Gibbs sat down on a barrel, and (Y/N) and Will sat with him. “When a pirate’s marooned, he’s given a pistol with a single shot—one shot. That won’t do much good hunting, nor to be rescued. But after three weeks of a starving belly and thirst, that pistol starts to look real friendly. But Hack escaped the island and still has that single shot. He won’t use it, though, save on one man. His mutinous first mate.”

            “Barbossa,” said Will, having heard the name floating about.

            “Aye,” confirmed Gibbs.

            (Y/N) leaned forward and tilted their head. “How did Jack escape the island?”

            “I’ll tell ya!” said Gibbs excitedly. “He waded out into the shallows and waited three days and three nights till all manner of sea creatures came acclimated to his presence. On the fourth morning, he roped a couple of sea turtles, lashed them together, and made a raft.”

            “He roped a couple of sea turtles…” repeated Will.

            “Aye, sea turtles,” said Gibbs with a grin.

            (Y/N) frowned. “What did he use for rope?”

            Ahem.

            Everyone looked up to find Jack standing before them.

            “Human hair,” he said. “From my back.”

            Gibbs nodded with a grin.

            “Let go anchor,” ordered Jack. They had arrived. The Isla de Muerta and danger waited for them. “Young Mr. Turner and I will go ashore,” said Jack.

            “What? No. I’m coming, too,” said (Y/N). They weren’t leaving Will, and they weren’t abandoning Elizabeth now. Now that she was close, they were determined to help.

            “No,” said Will.

            “Do you want me to stay with you or with all of these people?” said (Y/N), waving their hand at the pirate crew. They hated to manipulate Will, but they were clever, and they could tell Will had been keeping them close due his suspicions of the others, so…they used that to their advantage. Perhaps they did have a bit of pirate in them.

            Will grimaced. “Fair point.”

            “Oh, good, the more the merrier when we march into near-certain death!” said Jack, grinning.

            Will had a feeling he’d regret letting (Y/N) come with him, but he also wanted to keep (Y/N) close in case of danger. He wasn’t leaving them with untrustworthy pirates.

l

            Will held the lamp while Jack rowed the small lifeboat into the caverns of Isla de Muerta. (Y/N) sat in the middle and watched as they approached a larger tunnel. Voice echoed from in front of them—the crew of the Black Pearl.

            Will cleared his throat as he saw a skeleton lying on the rocky shores. “What, uh, code is Mr. Gibbs to keep to if the worst should happen?”

            “Pirate’s Code,” said Jack. “Any man who falls behind is left behind.”

            “No heroes among thieves, eh?” said Will.

            Jack rolled his eyes. “For having such a bleak outlook on pirates, you’re well on your way to becoming one. Sprung a man from jail, commandeered a ship of the fleet, sailed with a buccaneer out of Tortuga…” A golden shine illuminated the channel, and Jack looked at Will as he gazed at the golden coins. “And you’re completely obsessed with treasure.” He grinned and looked at (Y/N). “Whaddya think?”

            “I like sailing, I like the sea.” (Y/N) looked at the coins. “I’d rather not be weighed down with that.”

            Jack tutted. “We’ll make a pirate out of you yet, treasure-seeking and all.”

            (Y/N) chuckled.

            “You won’t,” said Will forcefully. “Neither of us will be obsessed with treasure, and everything we’ve done is for Elizabeth.”

            Jack grinned and led the way up to a cliff where they could look down at the cavern below. “Not all treasure if silver and gold, mate.”

            “Gentlemen, the time has come!” Barbossa stood in front of his crew atop a pile of gold. “Our salvation is nigh! Our torment is near an end!”

            Elizabeth stood next to him in a burgundy gown, glowering at the men. Leave it to Elizabeth to never back down in the face of possible death.

            “Elizabeth,” said Will worriedly.

            “For ten years we’ve been tested and tried, and each man here has proved his mettle a hundred times over and a hundred times again!” declared Barbossa. The imposing crew shouted in agreement. “Punished we were, the lot of us, disproportionate to our crime! Here it is!” He kicked open a chest of coins. “The cursed treasure of Cortes himself. Every last piece that went astray, we have returned. Save for this!” He pointed at the medallion around Elizabeth’s neck, the necklace she’d worn for years.

            “Lizzie,” murmured (Y/N) worriedly, narrowing their eyes.

            “Jack!” said Will, getting to his feet and drawing his sword.

            “Not yet!” Jack pulled him back down. “We wait for the opportune moment.” He moved down the cliff.

            “When’s that?” asked (Y/N).

            “When it’s of profit to him,” spat Will.

            Jack paused and turned back to face them. “May I ask you a question? Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?” He didn’t wait for an answer, which likely wouldn’t have been a good one. “Do us a favor. I know it’s difficult for you, but please stay here and try not to do anything stupid.” He grinned at (Y/N). “You, too!” He darted off.

            (Y/N) crossed their arms. “I find him fun, somehow, but I don’t trust him to not have something up his sleeve.”

            Jack narrowed his eyes. “I agree. Let us focus on saving Elizabeth and escaping.”

            (Y/N) nodded. Elizabeth was the first priority.

            And so, Will and (Y/N) crept down the cliff around the back of the treasure pile.

            On the pile of gold, Barbossa continued his speech. “Who among us has paid the blood sacrifice owed to the heathen gods?” Everyone cheered. “And whose blood must yet be paid?”

            “Hers!” They glared at Elizabeth.

            “You know the first thing I’m gonna do when the curse is lifted?” Barbossa grinned. “Eat a whole bushel of apples.”

            Curses? (Y/N) frowned. So magic is real. They could have smiled. Everyone claimed it wasn’t that myths were silly tales, but here was the truth. Magic was as wild and beautiful and dangerous as the sea, and (Y/N) found themself oddly energized by the idea. Something else free like they wanted to be.

            Barbossa pushed Elizabeth over Cortes’s gold and grabbed a knife.

            “Blood, blood!” chanted the pirates. “Blood, blood, blood!”

            “Begun by blood,” said Barbossa. “By blood undone.”

            Will and (Y/N) arrived behind Jack. Will grabbed an oar, and before (Y/N) could ask what he was doing, he swung. It hit Jack in the head, and he crumpled.

            “What was that?” said (Y/N).

            “We’re not becoming his leverage,” said Will, narrowing his eyes. “He needed us—me—for something. I’m not giving him that satisfaction.”

            “I feel bad leaving him behind for Barbossa to find,” said (Y/N), frowning and hesitating.

            Will’s gaze softened. (Y/N) was a good kid. “It’s what’s necessary.” He gently took their arm and pulled them farther into the cavern. “Come on.”

            They snuck around the treasure pile while Barbossa drew his knife across Elizabeth’s palm. Her blood dripped onto the medallion and dropped into the treasure chest. The pirates went silent, anxiously awaiting some sign the curse had broken.

            None came, and they looked at each other in confusion.

            “Did it work?” muttered one.

            “I don’t feel no different,” said another.

            “How do we tell?” asked a third.

            Barbossa rolled his eyes and shot the third. The pirate jumped, but he did not fall. The bullet rocketed through him with no harm done to him.

            “You’re not dead!” cried a pirate.

            “No!” said the shot pirate in relief. He frowned and looked at Barbossa. “You shot me!”

            “It didn’t work!” shouted another pirate. “The curse is still upon us!” An angry clamor went up.

            Barbossa grabbed Elizabeth roughly, and (Y/N) nearly jumped out in anger. Will grabbed them, silently cursing their wild nature.

            “You, maid! Your father, what was his name?!” demanded Barbossa. “Was your father William Turner?!”

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. That would explain why Jack was so concerned about Will’s name. His father was involved with the curse.

            “No,” said Elizabeth, smirking.

            “Where’s his child that sailed from England eight years ago and in whose veins flows the blood of William Turner?!” interrogated Barbossa.

            He needs Will’s blood to end the curse, thought (Y/N). Jack had fully intended to use Will to his advantage due to that. That upset (Y/N).

            Elizabeth just looked at Barbossa, smug at having tricked him. Furious, he backhanded her. Elizabeth fell down the back of the treasure pile. (Y/N) slid into the water and swam to the pile while Will tried to pull them behind him. He intended to lead the way in case the pirates noticed, but, as always, (Y/N) just forged ahead according to their own whims.

            (Y/N) shook Elizabeth, and when she jerked up, they put a finger to their lips. Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock, and Will smiled and gestured at her to follow them into the water. While the pirates argued behind them, the three swam for the exit and the rowboat awaiting them.

            “The medallion! She’s taken it!”

            (Y/N) moved faster as Barbossa’s shout echoed towards them. He had noticed Elizabeth’s escape. They paused as they arrived at the rowboats.

            “(Y/N), come on,” said Elizabeth.

            “I have an idea,” said (Y/N), grabbing all the oars they could hold.

l

            Behind the lifeboat Will rowed furiously, a trail of oars led the way to the Interceptor. Hopefully, a lack of lifeboats would slow Barbossa and his men down.

            Elizabeth groaned as she looked at the men on board the Interceptor. “Not more pirates.”

            “Welcome aboard, Miss Elizabeth,” said Gibbs.

            “Mr. Gibbs?” Elizabeth hadn’t expected to ever see him again.

            “Hey, boy, where be Jack?” said Gibbs to Will.

            “Jack? Jack Sparrow?” Elizabeth was surprised to hear his name.

            “He fell behind,” said Will.

            Gibbs was silent, and the crew murmured until he lifted his head. “Keep to the Code.”

            (Y/N) remained silent and looked back at the island. They hadn’t wanted to leave him behind. They couldn’t trust him, but they hadn’t wanted to harm him. Truly. If only Jack hadn’t been so intent to send them all into danger…

l

            “What sort of man trades a man’s life for a ship?” muttered Elizabeth after Will recounted the story of how they arrived at Isla de Muerta and she had recounted her own trials against Barbossa. “Pirate.”

            “I don’t know,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            Will carefully wrapped a cloth around Elizabeth’s wounded hand. “You said you gave Barbossa my name as yours.” He looked up. “Why?”

            “I don’t know,” said Elizabeth, avoiding Will’s gaze.

            Because you two are in love with each other, that’s why, thought (Y/N). Honestly, it was obvious.

            Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Thank you for making sure (Y/N) was safe.” She looked at them. “Though I do not know why they insisted on running into danger.”

            “Because you were already in danger,” said (Y/N). “I couldn’t leave you there.”

            Elizabeth smiled gently. “Thank you. Both of you.” She cleared her throat again and lifted the medallion from around her neck. “Allow me to be honest. This is yours, Will.”

            “I thought I’d lost it the day they rescued me…” said Will. “It was a gift from my father. He sent it to me.”

            “Why did you take it, Lizzie?” asked (Y/N).

            Elizabeth looked down in shame. “Because I was afraid that he was a pirate. And then Norrington and my father would have…” She trailed off. She didn’t need to finish her thought.

            (Y/N) interjected in order to keep them from all breaking down. “That coin is cursed. And Barbossa wanted the child of William Turner. That means they need Will’s blood.”

            Will’s hand curled around the medallion angrily as the truth settled in. “The blood of a pirate.”

            “I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me,” said Elizabeth, guilty for having taken the medallion.

            Will slammed the medallion down on the table. Jack had told him he was the son of a pirate, but he hadn’t wanted to believe it. Now he had to.

            (Y/N) rose and walked out of the room. Elizabeth quickly followed. They’d give Will the moment he needed to process everything.

            (Y/N) stepped out onto the deck of the Interceptor, and they felt the air whip around them. Something dark and bitter was carried in the air. They looked back at the direction of Isla de Muerta, and (Y/N) frowned. They had a feeling that the sea had more in store for them.

Taglist:

@slytherinroyalty16

@aew-kun-age-regression

@grippleback-galaxy

@andsoigotabutterfly

@insomniacneedssleep

@painstakingly-juno

@kitkatlover015

@chronicallybubbly

@froggyisfriend

@elliottheidiot2007

@paastaboi

@urlocalsabito

@speckle-meow-meow

@dmitrytherat

@vanessa-boo

@ohimjustagirlidrathetnotbe

[sabrina-valerie]

Imagine sweeping your f/o off their feet, regardless of whether you can actually lift them off the ground or not.

[ltwilliammowett]

A sailor’s embroidered “Going Ashore” Belt, circa 1880, fully embroidered with American, English, Scottish, and Japanese flags, thistle, hearts and anchors, leather ends with heart cut-outs, backed with twill, with interior coin pocket.

[lopposting]

guys.

I think I did it.

I think I cracked Lies of P.

(me rn)

i keep going back and forth on carlo's death.

i know i was adamant before, on him dying from the petrification disease. i think logically he would have to have had it because of ergo.

but here's another weird point about his death,

i just realized why we intrinsically think he was killed.

Carlo is wearing his school uniform when his stalker finds him, and on the floor at that. That's quite odd. Maybe not being on the floor, but the uniform. Why the uniform?

"He didn't even come to your graduation?"

For the son of an aristocratic family, would this be the image of a deathly ill son in care? Did Geppetto know? Wouldn't he be in palliative care, as Lady Antonia could afford?

Why wear the uniform after graduating?

"Oh, she's here! Grab her!"

"...Gemini, get rid of them! I'm off!"

Was his death literally right after his graduation, on the same day?

And also, Gemini is a little lamp guy. (She doesn't look to be carrying the lamp.) Why does she tell him to take care of the boys? What can he even do? Tell them off?

Here's another funny thing... We NEVER see Carlo outside of his school uniform. (at least, in the "past", "real" Carlo time line).

And as we know, the school uniform has a prominent Sailor collar, the type that is associated with nautical outfits [down to the three stripes, supposedly called a "naval collar"]. The Graduation pendant that he gives to Romeo is of an anchor. [I know that these are all artifacts of the charity house. but they are nonetheless associated in tangent with Carlo]

When we find Carlo's painting, it's right next to this one of a ship. [also, two bottles on the counter, perhaps representing the "two lives" of Carlo and Pino]

also... when Carlo's memories materialize... it's in the sand. Only on the seaside.

Remember, Romeo seems to be associated with a fire element, and Pino with water, the same seems to go with Carlo. The original novel of Pinocchio itself seems to have a strange fixation on the ocean.

And now, might I present to you:

The DLC images are also of a ship and some kind of water turbine.

Director Choi (in pre-release interview): "I'll put it this way: there are more stories I want to tell in Lies of P, so I hope [it] does well."

Also: "There sure are stories we could not introduce in the game" (talking about the story being adapted into another form)

[basically, that there was more to the story than what was really present in the final game.] I'll leave all this to your consideration without adding my own just yet. (I'll add it in a reblog on my own blog without tagging it) Just kidding I want to keep wasting everyone's time

Perhaps after the events of the game,

This is some sort of effort by Pino to either learn more about the deceased Carlo or try to remember his "previous life" as Carlo, by taking to the sea.

Maybe even after the game, Pino will STILL attempt to "awaken" as him so to speak [:(].

[Maybe he actually will.]

Again, Carlo is strongly associated with nautical elements. Again, he is never seen outside of a sailor suit, basically. Also, when we gain the memories of Carlo, they materialize on the sand, at the seaside. Remember, he DIED in the sailor outfit

Maybe we are to take the "sand memories" more "literally" as they are in the sand?

Did Carlo drown and his body wash ashore, which is why these memories materialize in the sand? Why is he so associated with ships?

Pino is also depicted in the water, remember, including what looks to be concept art that was used for the OST? Maybe it isn't "just" a motif? [even simple things like his "official" coat and his eyes being blue, blue blood's tailcoat, and him being associated with the colour blue in general]

Which is why Pino is pictured in the water, since he was "born" from Carlo's death... He was birthed in the water the same way Carlo died in it?

[more notes in reblog]

[gege-wondering-around]

Summary:

They had always been this way.

Stiles was the only one to pull Derek ashore,

Guiding the sailor through the storm.

Derek was the only one Stiles looked for,

Searching for a boat to call his own.

So, what would happen if a ship was in need of an anchor all along?

(or Stiles makes his way through Derek, thick skin and scarred past)

Rating: Explicit Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Rape/Non-Con Category: M/M Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale Stiles Stilinski Scott McCall (Teen Wolf) Cora Hale Peter Hale Minor Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence | Slow Burn | Minor Character Death | Angst and Hurt/Comfort | Omegaverse Omega Derek Hale | Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski | Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con | Past Rape/Non-con | Getting Together | Excessive use of pet names | Blood and Injury | First Dates | Aftercare | Blow Jobs | Anal Fingering | Anal Sex | derek hale loses the alpha status | Religious Imagery & Symbolism | very minor tho | Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship | Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf) | could or not get a redemption ark | Bathtub Sex | Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things | Time Skips | Violence| Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD | Explicit Sexual Content | Wolf Instincts | My First Fanfic | Stiles Stilinski Has Scars | Soulmates | Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Language: English Status: Ongoing

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

tags of people who made this possible: @jayjay55655 (the sweet reason we are here today) @dontcallpanic (you might not know it, but you did a lot) @aurymochi (my savior) @catniploverrrrrr (i wanna hear your thoughts on this so bad once its completed and thank you for your amazing support)

so! have a nice read and stick around to find out more (i'll post every 2 to 4 days) and thank y'all for the support i've already got from you even when this work wasn't even out yet. ( @seaweed-water @oldefashioned @hellameyers @fuji09 so many more that followed along or simply said something nice once). You made me sure enough to post this. thank you🫂✨

[monstersandmaw]

Laces for a Lady - 18th century poly shifter romance (Part one, sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me. 

Well folks, here it is. You said you were interested, so I hope it meets expectations! Here's part one for you, of a multi part story. If you want to kno wmore about it, you can find some more info here, as well as a little 'mood board'.

Content: sfw, the daughter of a country gentleman from Sussex relocates to a sleepy fishing village in Cornwall in order to become the paid companion of a young widow, and meets some of the locals on her arrival. Wordcount: 3972

Five and twenty ponies, Trotting through the dark - Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk. Laces for a lady; letters for a spy, Watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by! ~ from ‘A Smugglers’ Song’, Rudyard Kipling (1906)

In the cool, lavender light of a late spring dawn, a gaff-rigged cutter drew into the sheltering arms of a small bay at high tide, and quietly dropped anchor. As if the soft splash had awoken him, a cockerel spluttered to life in a farmyard somewhere inland, but most of the villagers were already up and awake and steering their small, secret fleet of boats out from the golden crescent of sand beneath the cliffs to meet the waiting ship fresh from Roscoff.

Beneath the waves, where churning kelp moored itself in unyielding handfuls to the ancient granite of the sea floor, a long, serpentine shadow snaked between the stalks, and the currents of the coastline subtly shifted. Any revenue men trying to sail along the coast from Fowey to catch the smugglers would have found the wind and tide set dead against them, and in the subtle wake that wafted from the mottled, eel-like tail as it passed unseen, the waters of the secluded inlet calmed beneath the keels of the scurrying fishing boats. The drag of the oars through the waves lessened, and muscles already tired from heaving and hefting goods up the cliff moved a fraction easier for the unexpected boon.

Between them over the next hour, the gathered men and women shifted their haul of half anker barrels and dozens of crates and boxes of goods ashore. The small kegs of rich, French cognac would fetch a pretty price all across Cornwall, and along with the liquor came smaller luxuries like lace and silk, and bundles of tobacco and spiced tea, all meticulously wrapped in oil cloth to keep the sea and the salt and the water out.

And when the speedy, slender ship was riding noticeably higher in the water, the locals simply melted away into the countryside like so many mice from a late summer granary before the excise men even knew the ship from Guernsey had visited the cove at all.

Fifteen miles away, as the sun breached the horizon and cast its first rays of warmth along bellies of fleecy clouds and the flanks of blossoming hedgerows below, a stagecoach lurched and rumbled westwards along potholed roads, and a young woman stared out of the grimy window as the horses carried her into a new chapter of her life.

After leapfrogging some two hundred miles or so along the staging stations that dotted the South Coast, with nothing but a small trunk of her belongings and a thrice-read, dog-eared novel for company, Eleanor Bywater was more than ready to see the back of that infernal stagecoach. Had it not been for the small but inconveniently bulky travelling case sitting at her feet, she might have hired a horse and ridden from the last staging inn at Plymouth to reach the secluded fishing village of Polgarrack, but given that the trunk held all her worldly belongings, she had not been quite desperate enough to escape the discomfort of hard seats and poor suspension to abandon it.

Bouncing along in the nearly-empty stagecoach, she studiously tried to ignore the older woman sitting opposite her. She’d stared intently at Nel since they'd left Plymouth behind that morning, and her scrutiny had begun to make that last twenty mile stretch feel much, much longer.

Finally, after jouncing over a pothole deep enough to start prospecting for copper ore at the bottom, Nel gasped and then raised her eyes to meet the woman’s openly curious stare. She found sympathy for her own discomfort, and a small degree of kindly amusement too. 

“Where are you headed, miss?” the stranger asked after Nel raised the hint of an eyebrow at her as the silence stretched.

“Polgarrack.”

At that, the woman’s grey eyes narrowed in confusion. “Now what takes a young miss like you to an old fishing village like Polgarrack?”

She looked to be in her fifties, though a life beside the harsh sea had weathered her features somewhat, and her wiry grey hair was covered by a simple linen cap. Her dress was dark and plain, though there was a hint of tired lace around the neck and cuffs. Her hands had the tough, reddened look of someone who scrubbed pots and salted fish, while Nel’s own hands were smooth and soft, if a little ink stained from sending a letter to her friend before leaving the inn that morning.

Nel laughed quietly and shrugged. “There’s no mystery to it,” she said. “I am to be employed as a companion to the widowed Lady Penrose at Heath Top House. I am expected there this afternoon.”

Given that only ladies of relatively high social standing themselves tended to become a ‘lady’s companion’, the older woman made a hasty re-evaluation of her fellow traveller, and her already ruddy cheeks flushed a darker shade as she cleared her throat and looked away.

“Begging your pardon, miss,” she said. “We don’t get many new faces in Polgarrack, is all. I didn’t mean to pry or cause offence with my questions.”

“No harm in a little curiosity,” Nel said, trying to put the stranger at ease to avoid any further awkwardness between them on the remainder of their journey. “I take it you’re from Polgarrack yourself then?”

“Oh, born and raised, miss,” she chortled. She eyed the forest green redingote Nel wore, with its rather masculine high collar, wide lapels and small, gold pocket watch dangling on a chain, and the contrasting sage green skirts beneath, and no doubt made one or two judgements of her own about the young lady. “And yourself? You don’t sound as though you’re from these parts at all, if I may be so bold.”

Nel smiled. “I’ve come from Sussex.”

The woman’s watery, grey-blue eyes widened almost comically and she gasped. “’at's a bloody long way, miss! And all on your own?” She shook her head but remembered herself and mumbled, “Begging your pardon.”

“You’re right,” Nel sighed, letting her gaze slide to the window to watch the countryside roll past in a blur of salt-bleached grass and vibrant yellow gorse flowers. “It is a bloody long way.” And her spine and backside felt every lump and bump and lurch of the stagecoaches from Sussex to Cornwall. With a warmer smile, she turned back to the woman. “My name is Eleanor, but most people call me Nel.”

“Agatha,” she replied with a grandmotherly smile of her own for the young woman. “But everyone calls me Aggie. My husband, Martin, is the village carter and smith, and we’ve got four boys, all of them either fishermen or miners. They all married too, so I’ve got nine grandchildren, if you can believe it!”

Nel offered Aggie her congratulations and another little smile, and then ventured to ask, “Will you tell me a bit about the place? I should like to know more about it, since it is to be my home for the foreseeable future.”

Aggie brightened even more and shuffled her plain, dark skirts, giving a wince and a grunt as the coach lurched over a pothole and the driver cursed audibly above them. Settled, if not entirely comfortable, she began.

“Well, see now. Folks has been fishing these waters for time out of mind. Pilchards is our mainstay, o’course, but the folks over St. Austell way mine clay, and obviously there’s copper and tin mines all over in the north of Cornwall. Mining here is as old as fishing, but it’s starting to dry up here and there now, o’course.”

She barely paused to draw breath before barrelling on, and Nel sat and listened while the older woman talked.

“Now, your Lady Penrose married into the Penrose family — see, she’s from Bath herself originally, though I can’t rightly remember what her family name was, but…” Nel let Agatha's potted history of the fishing and mining community wash over her, paying just enough attention to make polite sounds at the right pauses, but the discomfort of the journey and a decided lack of sleep was beginning to wear her attention span down to a single, fraying thread.

After two hours in the swaying, rolling coach, she felt woozy and weak-stomached, but with Aggie’s near-constant chatter, she at least had a better understanding of the politics of the little village than she’d ever have gained in six months on her own. She’d also learned why Aggie had been in Plymouth, since most folks never had any reason to travel further than the bounds of their own parish. Agatha’s sister’s husband had apparently been killed in the American Revolutionary War some ten years earlier, and since the widow’s health wasn’t the best these days, Aggie made the trip along the coast when she could to see her and take care of her.

Nel’s ticket took her as far as Whitcross, a desolate intersection of paler roads on a clifftop overlooking the tightly-nestled fishing port below, and away across the heather and tufted grass of the heath, she could just see an old manor house in the distance, flanked by tall copper beeches and ash trees. It looked slightly further away than she had anticipated, and she glanced apprehensively down at the travelling trunk at her feet.

Still, she was aching for fresh air and to be free of the sickening motion of the carriage, so she took the driver’s hand and allowed him to guide her safely down onto the hard-packed surface of the road before he lifted her case down for her as well.

From inside, Aggie peered out and scowled disapprovingly. “Now just you wait a moment,” she barked at the driver, who cocked an eyebrow but did pause. “Did they not send someone for you, dearie?” she asked Nel, still leaning out of the doorway and peering about like a disgruntled badger, and using the endearment freely. Apparently, two hours of talking non-stop at Nel had removed any pretence of formality or sense of social distance. Nel might as well have been adopted into Aggie Carter’s family as a niece by that point, and she couldn’t help but smile at the warmth it conjured in her chest.

“I… I never thought that far through,” she admitted, with her hand atop her bonnet as the wind gusted up from the sea below, soaring delightedly over the edge of the cliff and racing on inland as if to continue the momentum of the great rolling breakers that foamed and thundered against the shore. The coachman glanced at his pocket watch and groused something about a schedule that was almost immediately lost to the next inward gust.

“No, no, dearie,” the old woman scoffed. “No, you must come into the village. It’s far too far to go all by yourself, and with that case as well. Here, let me —”

“I can manage the case, I assure you,” Nel said with a gentle smile as Aggie half-toppled, half-leaned out of the coach to pick up the case. “How far is it to the house?”

“Two miles up that hill yonder,” Agatha said, pointing with one gnarled and arthritic finger towards the house on the rise to the north. “Come to the Lantern, and we’ll have one of the lads take you up once you’ve caught your breath.” The Lantern, as Nel now knew thanks to Aggie’s detailed prattling, was the inn at the centre of the village, right on the water near the harbour.

She had been about to protest, but with a sigh, she simply nodded. The constant journeying and jolting had worn her down more than she cared to admit, and while she wasn’t the kind of wallflower she’d met any number of times in London during the Season, a life led mostly indoors with few opportunities for physical activity had not prepared her for a two mile walk in heavy, too-fine clothes, carrying an unwieldy case in gusty conditions. Her family had been invited a number of times to Goodwood House to walk the large park there, and she had frequently ridden a rather spirited mare through the parkland of Lavington Hall with her dear friend William, so she was not entirely unused to the great outdoors, but she did have to admit that her experiences had been rather more curated and sanitised than the wild expanse of heathland visible on all sides of the stagecoach from Whitcross.

“You’re kind, Agatha,” she said, and let the woman heft her case into the otherwise empty coach.

The thing about a tiny village was that an outsider stood out a mile, and a young lady in her mid twenties and dressed in impractical, rich green clothes, stood out like a beacon in a dark night. Everyone turned to watch her as she disembarked from the coach. At home, she had barely garnered a look from anyone. Being the centre of everyone’s curiosity there was novel and, in a word, horrifying.

She almost blurted aloud that one would think she was a revenue man come inspecting for smuggled goods, but she bit it back just in time. Cornwall’s so-called ‘free trade’ and smuggling rackets were absolutely none of her concern as an outsider, infamous though they may be, and it would do her no good to start sticking her nose where it did not belong.

The Lantern was a half-timbered, two-storey building that faced the walled harbour. Its painted sign was peeling and sun-bleached, and it squawked something dreadful as it swung back and forth in the squalling wind. Mullioned windows glinted and shimmered, though the small, diamond panes were caked with a haze of salt spray, and alongside the inn, a hand-cart rumbled down from a narrow side alley towards the harbour beyond, where fishing boats bobbed on their mooring lines at the lapping high tide.

Agatha pushed open the black-painted door but came to an abrupt halt as someone appeared to be leaving the inn at the exact same moment, and nearly barrelled into her and Nel.

“Oh, excuse me,” came a young man’s hoarse tenor, and he stepped aside within the inn’s small porch to allow the two women to enter before he left.

Nel noted briefly that he wore well-made but plain clothes, and carried a hefty looking cane in his left hand, upon which he leaned while he waited for them to pass. He was pale and thin, his undyed linen shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders, and his light brown hair was tied back at the nape of his neck into a horsetail. The moment he met her eye, he inhaled in surprise and almost immediately looked away, his large, dark brown eyes turning shy and uncertain. “M’lady,” he mumbled without looking up.

She didn’t have time to correct him and tell him she had no such title, because the moment she had stepped inside, he was off out into the day beyond, limping markedly on his right leg as he went.

Nel turned back to find Agatha waiting for her, watching. “That there was young Edmund Nancarrow,” she supplied as Nel caught up with her. “Local lad. Lots of Nancarrows in this area,” she chuckled. “Can’t move for tripping over a Nancarrow. He was a shy, skittish thing even before he went off to war in the Colonies and came back with a bad leg,” she added. “But he’s a sweetheart if ever I saw one. Tailor’s ’prentice he is now.”

At that, Nel just nodded. Something in her ached when she realised she probably wouldn’t have much to do with the folk from the village once she was ensconced up at Heath Top House, and she half wised she could. They already sounded far more interesting than the Lady Winnifred Penrose, with whom Nel had only exchanged a short flurry of letters before becoming formally engaged as her ‘companion’. 

Still, an unmarried woman of Nel’s age and social standing was considered almost past her prime, and given that the few marriage proposals she had received had faded into the mists of her very early adulthood, she had had to find another respectable way to support herself. Hence, Heath Top House.

Aggie bustled her into the main room of the pub, and their arrival caused a flurry of activity that drew the eyes of a good few patrons. 

Seated at the wooden bar inside, hunched over a pewter tankard, sat a tall, bulky man in his late-thirties or early forties, with long, thick, dark grey hair shot through with a shimmer of silver white. He had it tied back off his face in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck and as he turned to regard Nel’s arrival, she met unusually deep green eyes surrounded by a web of crows’ feet lines in a tanned, weathered face. His scowl was dark and full of suspicion, but even the storm clouds in his expression couldn’t mask the fact that he was handsome, in a rugged, rough-hewn kind of way.

When she saw where Nel’s attention had snagged, Aggie let out a little gasp and snatched her by the upper arm to steer her towards an empty table in a bay window, about as far from the wooden bar where the man still sat and glared at them as it was possible to be. 

“And that’s Locryn Trevethan,” Aggie hissed as she saw Nel settled into a seat. “Can’t say as I’ve seen him in here more than a handful of times this year though. He’s usually out on the water. Lives alone in an old stone cottage round the bay from here, up at Pilchard Sands. You’d probably best be giving him a wide berth, miss. Not that he should give you any trouble, mind,” she amended carefully, “But he’s not for the likes of you to go mingling with.”

Nel smiled at the protective tone in the older woman’s voice, and nodded once.

With her warning given, Aggie raised her voice and called over to the old man behind the bar. “’ere, Tom! This young lady needs a ride up to Heath Top. You think you can arrange that for her?”

The stoop-shouldered, white-haired man nodded and knuckled his forehead at Nel across the space. “Not the finest, but we got a cart.”

“If you have a horse, I could ride,” she said, trying to be helpful.

“Ain’t got a saddle for a lady,” he said regretfully.

Memories of galloping through the leafy trees of Lavington Hall’s parkland with William flashed across her mind and she suppressed a smile. She certainly hadn’t ridden the grey mare side-saddle while keeping up with her childhood friend, and although it had been a year or so since she’d sat astride a horse instead of side-saddle, she thought she could manage well enough. “I know how to ride a man’s saddle,” she said, “But I do have a travel case I’d need to send someone back for.”

“I could get one of the lads to bring that up for you after,” said Tom, “But it’s almost as much effort to hitch up a cart as it is to tack up a horse for riding, ma’am.”

“Whatever is the least trouble for you will do fine,” she said, and the stoic, weather-beaten old man’s red cheeks darkened and he ducked his head.

While Tom left to sort out transportation to the house, Aggie flapped about getting some refreshments for Nel, leaving her to wait at the table alone.

In the wake of the hubbub and pother Agatha left behind her, Nel took a long, deep breath looked around to find Locryn Trevethan still staring across the room at her. Taken aback by his directness and the intensity of his glare, she tried to smile, but his expression remained thunderous beneath strong, dark brows, and she quickly looked away, embarrassed.

In a face turned to leather by the sun and sea-wind, wide cheekbones and a heavy brow framed his piercingly green eyes. Never mind that marked crow’s feet around his eyes that made him look like he would rather have been laughing; the contrast between the dark, hostile glower and the soft laughter lines unnerved her and made her feel off-balance, as though her stranger’s presence in their local pub had unknowingly raised the ire of a usually gentle man. 

He had a short, neatly-trimmed, salt-and-pepper beard around full lips that were currently turned down at the corners and which bore a silver-pink scar across the middle. Despite the warm day, he wore a fisherman’s dense, woollen sweater, and when she risked another look back at him, she found him still frowning openly across the bar at her.

Nel didn’t relax until Aggie returned, at which point the man snapped abruptly out of his trance, slammed a coin down on the bar, and strode from the pub on long legs that were thick as tree trucks at the thigh. The door bounced back off the plasterwork in his wake and his boots rang on the flagstones outside.

“Not one to welcome strangers, I take it,” Nel muttered, and downed half of the cheap, watered-down wine that Agatha had set on the table for her.

“Oh don’t you pay him no mind, miss,” Aggie scoffed, settling herself down into the seat opposite her like a brooding hen and glaring at the pub door. “He don’t seem to like no one in Polgarrack save for sweet Ned Nancarrow, strangely enough. Then again, I ain’t met no one who’s taken a disliking to sweet Ned. Now, Tom will have the horse and cart ready for you in just a moment, but you just take your time and recover after your journey.”

Nel, who had felt ten times better the moment she’d taken her first proper lungful of sea air on stepping out of the swaying stagecoach, looked across the table into the older woman’s face and found a mother’s kindness and compassion in her wrinkled face, and something twisted in her gut. “You’re very kind,” she whispered, unable to muster anything more. “Thank you.”

She chuckled. “You know, and don’t you take this amiss, but you remind me of my niece a little, though she’s a little younger than you.”

Nel’s eyebrows twitched in wry amusement, and Agatha blushed at the impropriety of her words. Nel didn’t get the chance to reassure her because Tom shuffled back in and told her the cart was ready for her.

She laid a coin on the table for the wine and stood, following the innkeep out into the yard and clambering up with her case into the back of the cart. It was hardly a very dignified mode of transport for someone of her station, and when Tom said as much while they rumbled out of the inn’s yard, Nel just laughed and said she didn’t mind.

“Anything is better than that awful rolling stagecoach,” she beamed, and swung her legs back and forth like a child off the back of the cart bed while Tom clucked his tongue at the horse to hurry up.

As they trundled up the narrow, cobbled street from the harbour, they passed Edmund Nancarrow standing outside a tailor’s shop, talking with the beast of a man from the bar. Both men looked up and watched her pass like she was some kind of rare spectacle.

In a way, she supposed she was. 

Still, she smiled at them despite her nerves, and Edmund knuckled a non-existent cap at her with a shy smile, while Locryn just glared.

She sighed and wondered what this next chapter in her life would bring.

___

Next chapter ->

Well, what did you think of it so far? I can't wait to hear your thoughts on it, as always!

I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like if you enjoyed it. Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

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[magpiepills]

En El Mar

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x f reader

Word count: 727

Summary: you and Joel on the beach just like in that scene in From Here to Eternity.

Warnings: smut. Sort of non con? No express consent is given and both parties have just washed ashore from a shipwreck. They are traumatized, but horny! PWP, PIV, kissing. Javi’s curls.

A word from the author: This is a repost! Y’all saw that SAG awards shirt, right? And you know the black boxers from that one leather jacket selfie, right? This is like those things combined. Also An Affair To Remember tidbit in there and if you spot it you get a kiss.

He drags you to shore and begs you not to die, not here, not now. He’s only just felt the warmth and the weight of the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his arms, it’s too soon to lose you. When you open your eyes, he kisses you and doesn’t stop kissing you until he realizes he’s grinding his cock against you. This isn’t him. He’s a gentleman. He needs to wait, to woo you, make you love him. The salty water laps at your bodies, though and he feels there may never be a dinner to go to.

Overcome with lust he rips your shirt open and kisses your chest and up your neck. You’re still delirious from nearly drowning, limp in his arms as the sun sparkles on the crystal blue water and glints off the white sand of the pristine beach. Despite the tropical heat, your nipples pebble, drawing his lustful eye. He drags you further up the beach, the sand shifting beneath you when he repositions to draw your peaked bud into his warm mouth.

Your weak moans mingle with the crash of waves and the call of seabirds. He is helpless to resist you, the arch of your back and the adrenaline urge him on, easily tearing the fabric of your shirt the rest of the way off. He pauses, unable to believe that he is alive and so are you, the beautiful and charming stranger from the doomed ship. You cup his scruffy jaw in your hand and pull him to your lips, parted and waiting like petals of a drowsy rose. He kisses you deeply, soundly, the way he wanted to the moment he laid eyes on you. As he licked into your sweet mouth, you pull at his white shirt, half unbuttoned and hanging open, tearing it from his broad shoulders, exposing his strong, golden chest.

Impatiently he unzips your shorts, tossing them to the dry sand. He presses his chest to yours and rolls you on top of him.

The full length of his turgid member throbs against your own aching core. All inhibition lost along with the wreckage of the SS Consitution, you roll your hips suggestively, and run your fingers through the beautiful man’s thick, graying curls. You sweep them away from his forehead and trace his sloped nose with your lips, kissing his face while his strong hands anchor your hips just above his own.

No words are spoken, silent understanding passes between you. You may die together on this remote island all alone, but you have right now. He lifts his hips and pushes down the tight black briefs that kept him from you, then gathers the scant lace of your underwear in his thick fingers. Teasing at your slit with his knuckles, he looks at you, and tells you his name before joining your soft, supple body with his hard, aged one. The first word you speak to him is a staccato moan of his name. “Joel!” He’s slow and languid in his motion, holding you with firm yet gentle hands on your hip and cheek. Your knees and toes slip in the wet sand. You’ve no choice but to take every solid inch of him.

You can’t keep your eyes open. You’ve never felt so full, he coaxes you to move, he needs to feel you as you surrender yourself to him, your beautiful tits, the nipples he longs to tease swaying so erotically above his face. Your throaty moans drive his hips upward, fucking into you with abandon as you find your own matching rhythm, grinding your clit into the coarse dark hair beneath you. You’re overtaken by your orgasm, it bolts up your spine and down every nerve, rendering you nearly drunk on his cock. He can feel the ripple of your pleasure pulling at his own, and he can’t stop until he has filled you with his seed.

He doesn’t let you go. He can’t. He pulls you to his chest, bodies joined, breath escaping you both in ragged pants. As the tide rises and the sky darkens, he holds you, kissing your face, your hair, your lips. You stroke his chest, twirl a lock of his hair around your finger, and vow to live the rest of your life, however short it may be now, with him.

[blues824]

🦈Can I request the uppermoons with a female Floyd s/o.

🌊Her iskaid from the coral sea/twisted wonderland .

🦈Many they met her while she was squeezing a person because they broke a contract or pissed her of (her finally getting to squeeze her lover. )

🌊How whoud they react her being a Moray eel/mermaid and her tru form(them seeing her sharp teeth and not freeking out ) listening to her story of her learning to walk on land for the first time about her twin and Azul.

🦈Whats their opinion on her mood swings and calling everyone sea creature names

Akaza those mantis that punch calling daki srimpy because she is smaller than her and her brother sea snake kokushibo sea lion daki a blanket octopus.

🌊Her getting to squeeze the lower moons because what can they do when she is dating the uppermoons and especially if she dating muzan.

Just make it how you like I love you destie

Love you too! Female Reader.

A few of you have been getting on my ass about not including Hantengu and Gyokko, so here you go.

Muzan Kibutsuji 

He had met you when he took a small vacation to the beach. You had washed up ashore and you were struggling with your tail. Muzan was enchanted, as he thought mermaids were just myths. He prepared a spell that would allow you to have legs while you were on land.

The two of you surprisingly got along very well. He tested the strength you have by allowing you to squeeze one of the lower moons. The rip-off Michael Jackson was a bit shocked to hear the spine snap, as well as your sharp-toothed smile after the poor unfortunate soul collapsed.

I feel like he wouldn’t particularly like your mood swings, but he loved you so he put up with them. I feel like your mood went along with his: if he was upset, you were upset. However, your emotions were more expressive than his. You would be more prone to violence if either you or him were provoked.

Since he’s like the apex predator of demons, you call him White Pointer because the Great White Shark is an apex predator of the ocean. Muzan is very interested in your stories from your childhood, especially your twin brother (his future brother-in-law) and Azul (who Kibutsuji thought was a possible rival at first).

Kokushibo

He had met you when Muzan was testing your strength and you snapped the spinal cord of one of the lower moons. As unlikely as it sounded, it was love at first sight for the two of you. He admired your strength just as you admired his (who wouldn’t? I mean, have you seen this fine demon?).

Speaking of, you both work side-by-side in enforcing the rules in the demon ranks. You were a surprisingly formidable opponent, even though you were “human”. Kokushibo, however, wanted to keep you as you were rather than turning you into a demon.

This demon is very emotionally stable from a day-to-day basis, so he acts kind of like your anchor whenever you go through mood swings. I think he’s kind of indifferent towards them, and he acts as your voice of reason. When you seek him out for comfort, he can’t help but feel some pride swelling in his chest.

You call him ‘sea lion’ because he’s very agile in battle, and because he’s very loyal to you and you both live in a “raft”. He does like to hear about your life in Twisted Wonderland and about your twin and your boss, but he is greatly saddened about the prospect of you wanting to return.

Douma

Muzan had brought you back to the Infinity Castle, and he was immediately entranced by your smile and your overall beauty. Don’t get me started about when he found out you were a mermaid. When you showed him your mer-form, he was so excited.

He was surprised by the amount of strength you had, since it could rival some of the lower-ranking demons. You even snapped someone’s spinal cord, and it sent him rolling on the floor laughing. He can handle your squeezes, though, and welcomes them with open arms.

This man doesn’t feel emotions until you’re right next to him. You both feed off of each others’ moods. If you’re happy, he’s happy. If you’re upset, he’s upset. Same thing vice versa as well. It’s an emotional roller coaster for everyone.

You like to call him ‘blanket octopus’ because they’re just as colorful as his eyes, and he loves to hear what they were like in the ocean as well as your life in the Coral Sea. If the two of you decide to go swimming at night, he loves the way that your tail wraps around him because you love to cling to him.

Akaza

His head turned so quickly when he heard someone’s spine snap, only to see that it was you with a lower-ranking demon in your grasp. Muzan had told them about how your mer-person strength would benefit demonkind, but he didn’t know you held that much power.

Because of your strength, he was immediately attracted to you. He eventually got to know you better, and you turned out to be a very spontaneous person. He doesn’t mind it though, since it always keeps him guessing. This makes a nice segway into…

Your mood swings! Akaza doesn’t get too annoyed by them, especially if they end up in you being clingy towards him. Since this demon loves you oh-so-much, he encourages clingy behavior. Oftentimes, you are sat upon his lap and he’s holding you around the waist as he leans his head upon you.

He quite enjoys the nickname you’ve given him: mantis shrimp. You’ve explained that it was because they were as strong as he was, and could even break aquarium glass. This led him to asking about the ocean and about your family. He wishes he could remember his life as a human.

Hantengu

Mans let out an audible squeak when he heard a spine snap, and when he turned around to see where the sound came from you had a wide smile and a folded up demon in your arms. Muzan gathered everyone’s attention and introduced you to the group.

He honestly let you do as you wished, considering you scared him. This eventually developed into romantic feelings being the cause, but at that point it was because he very much valued his own spinal cord. He always goes stiff whenever you want to squeeze him.

As for your mood swings, he doesn’t mind them. You have enough confidence for the two of you, and he serves you. If you randomly want or need something, he will go and get it for you with no questions asked. Anything to make his darling moray eel happy.

Speaking of, he absolutely adores your mer-form. The way you moved so quickly in the water was spectacular. You call him ‘squid’, considering they’re one of the more shy creatures of the sea but the bigger ones are still very strong (take that as you will).\

Gyokko

His morbid fascination really did wonders for his art, especially when he saw how much strength you actually had as you snapped the demon’s spinal cord like a KitKat. You served as his muse even in your human form, let alone your mer-form.

Your mer-form was very intriguing to him, and his art usually had you as the subject. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, considering a lot of artists loved to paint the love of their lives. He’s just painting the love of his afterlife. Don’t mind him as he’s carrying another canvas to his studio.

If your mood swings make you clingy, he is absolutely happy about it. He’s a very jealous demon, so this works out for him. However, he hates it when you yell at him to leave you alone. It leads to a yelling battle that leads to him apologizing.

You’d probably call him ‘Fantasia’, after the Pink See-Through Fantasia. Both were very weird creatures in your mind, but both were loveable. One time, as he was painting you, he asked you about your life in the sea, and you happily told him about your childhood with Jade and Azul. The work ended up being a more nostalgic one.

Daki 

She was jealous of you at first because you were taking the attention of Muzan away from her, but she eventually learned that you cared more about her than him. You’ve even snapped the spine of a lower-ranking demon for even trying to talk to her.

When she first saw your moray eel form, she thought you were so majestic. It reminded her of the stories she often heard in the villages and even from her older brother. You gave her an ounce of hope that she hadn’t felt in a while.

Your mood swings upset her greatly. If you’re upset for no reason, then she’s gonna be upset at you for being upset. It’s a hot mess. The only way she puts up with them is when you go to her first to cling to her. She gets very insecure when you demand time alone.

Daki has a love-hate relationship with your nickname for her: shrimpy. She knows that you nicknamed her after the sea creature, but ‘shrimpy’ can be used as an insult. You call her that because she’s much smaller than you, but she eventually grows to love it full-time, and even gets concerned when you don’t call her that.

Gyutaro

He was definitely impressed when you snapped the spine of a lower-ranking demon, considering you weren’t a demon yourself. Then he saw your smile, and his non-beating heart fluttered and soared. Muzan introduced you as a new enforcer, and said that you were a moray eel mermaid. To be honest, he thought there was only one type of mermaid.

When he first saw your mer-form, he was amazed at how quickly you moved through the water. You seemed truly at peace in the water, and he thought you were very graceful. He once accompanied you, and you wrapped your tail around his very small waist and clung onto him, which made him very flustered.

You reminded him of his younger sister whenever you went through a mood swing. He’s also the only one who knows how to properly deal with them, but he will most definitely call you childish. He acts like it’s such an inconvenience, but he actually likes helping you because that serves as reassurance that you would never leave him. His ocean-themed nickname was ‘sea snake’, and you would even tease him by dragging out the s in the words. You called him this because he was very curious about mermaids, but especially about the different kinds.