#blue wedge anchors

[fixdex-fastening-technology]

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[alvojake]

How about pirate! Jungwon and mermaid! Reader? You can make it dark and stuff. Up to you 😘

「notes」 : bless you and your thinking anony, this is such a *chefs kiss* idea, I actually had a lot of fun writing it!! also, I would like to dedicate this to two of my lovely moots hehe, @yeonzzzn & @wondipity. I hope this feeds into your jungwon brain rot

Midnight Lagoon | Y.JW

「paring」 : pirate!jungwon x mermaid!reader 「word count」 : 1.9k

「synopsis」 : what you and jungwon had was nothing short of unethical, if you were to ask your people, that is. neither of you cared, though, which is how you find yourself waiting for the said man in the very cavern that had started everything, relishing in each other's company.

「genre」 : smut

「warning」 : unprotected sex (just don't), slight manhandling, teasing, cussing, making out, petnames (baby, princess...), praising, rough sex, mentions of marking, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!

The cavern was silent, save for the waves splashing against the shore. It had to have been late into the night. The only source of light was the bioluminescent algae that littered the cavern walls and ceiling. The algae illuminated the space in a soft blue, and the water almost glowed along with it. You lay out on the rocks, crimson tail dipping into the water, enjoying the feeling of the waves cascading across your scales.

Despite knowing the time, you knew that he would be here at any moment. You knew that as soon as his crew was all asleep, he would sneak away to come see you. It has become a routine since Jungwon first found you.

It’s a funny story, really. You had gotten caught in one of their nets when they were anchored in this very cavern. The string was far too tight for you to just rip away from, so you were stuck, fearing that your life was going to come to an end. You had heard the stories from your parents and the elders of the shoal. Pirates were not to be messed with; they would kill you on sight and take your scales to pawn off for a pretty penny.

So to say you were surprised when Jungwon found you and just cut you free would be an understatement. His hands were steady but careful as he wedged his blade between your tail and the net, slicing the dreadful contraption off of you. Even his voice was soft as to not alert those that were on the ship with him. His kind eyes and gentle hands intrigued you and you knew it was wrong, hell it was probably one of the worst things you could do in your life. But god, if you didn’t enjoy the thrill of it all. 

After those events, you stayed behind a cluster of rocks, watching and studying what they were doing. Your family had been worried sick about you all night long, but that was the least of your concerns right now. No, you wanted to actually talk to this man, even if it was the dumbest thing you’ve done. Curiosity has gotten the best of you.

So you waited… and waited… and waited. Finally, you saw Jungwon climbing off of the boat.

You tried to sneak up behind him, but for some miraculous reason, he sensed you there. His head turned, and his eyes bore into yours, peeking from the top of the water.

“I didn’t think a pretty thing like you would hang out around here.” His once soft voice now held a more sinister tone, but instead of getting scared… you were intrigued. Something pulling you towards him, like an angler fish going after the little light antenna on their heads.

That desire only grew from that night when he lured you out of the waters, watching as your tail morphed into human legs, leaving your bottom half completely bare to him. The complete ecstasy that his fingertips brought you left you gasping and begging for more. His dick reaching the most inner parts of your body that you hadn’t even known existed. By the time he was done with you, you had become addicted, wanting nothing more than to be in his embrace once more.

Thus began the little rendezvous, meeting in the very place where he first made love to you, much like what was happening now.

When Jungwon made it into the cavern, he wasn’t surprised at all to find you lying halfway in the water, your tail swishing softly under the surface. Your head was tilted back, eyes closed, enjoying the tranquility that this space brought you. He stopped once he was close enough to fully see you. Watching the way your damp hair cascaded down your back, small droplets of water still falling from the ends. His eyes trailed the length of your body, taking in your chest that was hardly covered due to the shell top you were wearing. Jungwon could feel his dick chub up at the sight alone.

Jungwon’s footsteps were careful and quiet, but you could still feel the vibrations under your fingertips. Your head turned slightly to look over at him, and the corner of your eyes crinkled slightly as a smirk spread across your lips.

“It took you long enough,” you teased the male as you pulled yourself further from the sparkling water. Your fingers wrapped around the pendant that lay between your collarbones, whispering a few soft words, allowing your tail to morph into human legs. Jungwon’s eyes stayed glued to your body, taking in the new skin that had just been revealed to him.

“I had to wait for everyone to fall asleep.” His voice was soft, unlike the dark look that glazed over his eyes. You carefully stood to your feet, but seeing as it's been a little bit since the last time you had to use your legs, your knees buckled, and you tumbled forward right into Jungwon's arms. “Even the sight of me has your legs weak, huh? I'm flattered.”

“Oh, hush.” You rolled your eyes before fixing your posture to wrap your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. His face was merely inches away from yours, eyes boring into your own. He could smell the sea salt on your skin as he leaned closer to you, sealing your lips in a gentle kiss. 

“God, I've missed your lips so much.” He groaned against your lips, “... I missed you.” He sighed before letting his lips trail from yours to your cheek, down your jaw and neck, before finding purchase on one particular spot right below your ear. A soft sigh fell from your lips as you pulled his body flush against yours, leaving little to no room between the two of you. He continued to press open-mouth kisses along your jugular until he was sure there would be marks left behind, not caring for the consequences you might face once you were home.

“Won…” You whine when his hands traveled down to the fat of your ass, squeezing harshly. He licked a long stipe up your neck before roughly kissing you. His lips moved fervently against yours as he swiftly picked you up off of your feet. 

Jungwon wasted no time in laying your body flat on the flat rocks that sat next to the lagoon. His body slotted against yours, allowing you to feel his bulge against your bare pussy. Your small whines and whimpers were swallowed by Jungwon’s mouth as his fingers brushed along the inside of your thigh.

Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch, his fingers leaving tingles in their wake. But it wasn’t enough; no, you wanted more, and you didn’t want to wait. Noticing the impatiens in your eyes, Jungwon chuckled, pressing his thumb firmly against your clit, making your hips buck and a broken cry fall from your lips.

“Do you really want my cock that bad baby? You’re dripping on my fingers.” He teased, his fingertips tracing your slit, collecting your slick.

“Wonnie, please, I don’t wanna wait. Just fuck me, please.” You pleaded in a meek voice, and Jungwon smirked against your skin.

Who was he to deny you what you were asking so nicely for? So he pressed one last kiss against your forehead before pulling back to rid himself of his clothing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock springing free from his trousers. Catching your gaze, he put on a bit of a show, pumping his cock a few times, hissing through his teeth at the sensation. Impatience grew in your chest as you watched him pleasure himself. A whine fell from your lips when he denied your motion for him to move towards you. 

Eyes rolling, you moved your hand down to your cunt using your fingers to spread your pussy lips, “Just fuck me already, Won, please.”

He chuckled once more before finally giving in and moving closer to your body, grabbing your plush thigh. Leaning over your body, he captured your lips in another heated kiss as he lined his cock with your entrance. In one swift motion, he buried himself in your warm heat, swallowing all of the moans that slipped past your lips.

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight, baby,” He groaned, biting down on your bottom lip. It had been far too long since he was last able to bury himself in your wet cavern, the crew and missions taking up a majority of his time. So he wasn’t going to hold back; no, he had a lot of lost time to make up for.

He gave you a split second to adjust before his hips were snapping into yours in such a rough manner you were sure there would be bruises. The sounds of your skin hitting his and moans bounced off of the cavern walls. Jungwon couldn’t hold back; his hips were pistoned into your, trying to get as deep as he could, throwing your legs over his shoulders, pushing even deeper. Deep enough to have the head of his cock kissing your cervix. 

Wonton moans fell from your lips as you tried your best to stay up with his pace, but as soon as his tip brushed over that sweet spot deep in your pussy you were putty in his hands. Stars clouded your vision, your orgasm already on the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck- Won, I’m- shit, I’m close.” Tears brimmed in your eyes at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Jungwon leaned down, kissing over the few tears that had fallen from your eyes, whispering sweet praises against your skin while his hip snapped brutally into yours.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He groaned when your cunt squeezed around him, “fuck princess, you keep doing that, and I won’t last.” His hands trailed from your thigh to your hands, intertwining your fingers when your high washed over you. His pace slowed just a little to help you ride out your orgasm, but his movements never stopped.

“Won-” “Just a little longer, baby, I’m almost there.” He groaned before picking up the pace once more, letting go of one of your hands to rub his thumb against your clit, relishing in the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.

Your head fell back at the overstimulation, all words but his name leaving your brain. Jungwon loved when he got you like this, so fucked out that his name was the only thing you could remember. Chuckling, he pressed a kiss against your plush thigh before a choked groan tore through his lips when he felt you cum for a second time. The tightness around his sensitive cock was enough to finally push him over the edge, painting your velvet walls white.

“Shit…” He groaned into your neck as he leaned over you, hips rocking softly against yours. Taking in your scent, memorizing it once more for he wasn’t sure when he would be able to see you again. 

“Won,” you breathed out, running your shaky fingers through his hair. "You’re still hard.”

Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before rolling his hips deeply into yours, pushing his cum further into your womb, “You drive me insane, baby, and I want to fill you so full of my cum.”

A whine slipped past your swollen lips as his pace picked up a little, but your grip on his body didn’t let up. No, your lips found his, kissing him deeply, telling him that you would love nothing more.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 : @heesitation @riftanswhore @yeonzzznn @yzzyhee @skzenhalove @seuomo @moonchus @enha-stars @ikeuverse @ilovesubbymenn @ro-diaries @yeonjunsfox

[floofeh-purpi]

Happy Birthday! (Mootie's b-day special!)

Childe x Gn! Reader

『Birthday Participant! 🫂』

@mc-cos-charm

☆

A/n: Happy Birthday to you my fuzzie! I hope you have a greatgreatgreat G R E A T day! Also sorry if it isnt up to your tastes, I tried my best 😭🙌

Warnings: Whats that? Oh yeah, none. Except for some spelling errors, you calling the ginger head Ajax! Aka his real name! <3, this being shorter than my lifespan.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

The morning sun painted the room in soft, golden hues as it filtered through the sheer curtains. Ajax stirred, the warmth of the bed and the gentle scent of your shampoo a comforting embrace. His eyes fluttered open, and a lazy smile spread across his face as he found you curled up beside him, your soft snores a gentle melody that filled the quiet room.

Today was your birthday, a day he had been anticipating for weeks. You were his best friend, his confidante, the steady anchor in his often turbulent life. He loved you more than words could express, a depth of affection that surprised even him. He carefully disentangled himself from your embrace, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber. As he moved about the room, he hummed a soft, familiar tune, his heart filled with a warmth that was almost tangible.

He prepared a breakfast fit for royalty: a tower of fluffy pancakes, each one golden brown and perfectly cooked, accompanied by crispy bacon and scrambled eggs. He knew your preference for savory flavors and the absence of vegetables, and he had taken meticulous care to ensure the meal was exactly to your liking. A steaming cup of coffee, rich and aromatic, completed the spread. He might've asked for some help after he almost burnt the kitchen down.

When he returned to the bedroom, you were awake, your eyes still sleepy but a smile gracing your lips. "Morning Ajax," you murmured, stretching lazily. Your voice was like velvet, soft and inviting.

"Good morning, [Your Nickname]," Ajax replied, his voice filled with an affection that made your heart skip a beat. "Happy birthday." He handed you a small, exquisitely wrapped package, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. You tore open the paper, revealing a soft, plush blanket in your favorite shade of blue. You squealed with delight, burying your face in its softness. "It's perfect!" you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling.

Ajax chuckled, his heart swelling with pride. "I know you love cozy things," he said, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. After breakfast, you spent the morning lounging around, watching a movie and shared some laughs. You talked about everything, the hours slipping away unnoticed.

In the afternoon, Ajax surprised you with a picnic in a secluded spot in the park, a place he had discovered on one of his many missions as Fatui. He had laid out a soft, checkered blanket, and a basket overflowing with your favorite treats.

There were sandwiches piled high with tender roast beef, a wedge of sharp cheddar cheese, and crusty bread. An apple pie, still warm from the oven, filled the air with a mouthwatering aroma. And of course, there was a bottle of your wine, its deep color promising a rich, satisfying taste.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, Ajax took your hand, his touch sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. "I have something to ask you," he said, his voice serious but filled with a tender affection. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within you. You knew what was coming, and anticipation and fear warred within you.

He got down on one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. The diamond in the ring caught the last rays of sunlight, sparkling like a promise. "You are my best friend, my confidante, and the love of my life," he began, his voice steady. "You bring joy, laughter, and warmth into my world. Will you marry me and let me spend the rest of my life loving and cherishing you?"

Tears of joy streamed down your face as you nodded enthusiastically, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!" you exclaimed, your voice barely a whisper. Ajax slipped the ring onto your finger, and you pulled him into a passionate yt gentle kiss, the taste of apple pie and red wine mingling with the sweetness of your love.

As the first stars appeared in the sky, you and Ajax sat together, hand in hand, planning your future. You talked about your dream wedding, the perfect honeymoon destination, and the kind of life you wanted to build together. You laughed and dreamed, your hearts filled with an intoxicating sense of possibility.

As the night deepened, a sense of peace washed over you. You were surrounded by the man you loved, under a canopy of twinkling stars. The world felt perfect in that moment, and you knew that your life was about to embark on a new and wonderful chapter.

☆

AHHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY MC!!!! :D I HOPE YOU LIKE MY BIRTHDAY GIFT FOY YOU! <33

Gifted: August 5, 2024. 2:03am.

I dont have the intestines and organs to make this longer im sorry 😭😔

[ikemen-trifecta]

I saw your gojo x social anxious reader. i get a lot of sensory overload and gojo satoru is a comfort characger. Can i have some imagines to how he would help someone dealing with overload?

hii hii~! i love this ask!! ՞ ⸝⸝>v<⸝⸝ ՞⸜ ♡ ⸝💕gojo is my biggest comfort character ever my fellow gojo nation friend :3 AND I LOVE HIM SO SO SO MUCHHHHHH <333 i was so so SO happy to work on this!!! >w< i really hope it touches your heart! <3 also, the fic just kept getting longer and longer in the blink of an eye cuz ideas kept popping up in my head as it went along hehe! i am NOT and never will be physically capable of being normal when it comes to this man ASKDJHFDJKS - ENJOYYYYYY!!! >:DDD

~ Mod Astraea!!!

Walking hand in hand with Gojo excitedly, you’re over the moon to be heading to see a movie at the theaters. Choosing to go the more scenic route to enjoy a walk together, you both ended up near a big park. You thought it would be nice and peaceful, that you would be able to enjoy nature and take your time, only to find out there was a huge crowd for some kind of event. Which happened to include playing the drums and whistling. On top of it, you could suddenly feel the sun’s harsh rays hitting your face more than before, which wasn't helping at all. The lights blind your eyes, and the loud noises make you feel lightheaded. Too loud…too bright…it all feels so overwhelming, and your heartbeat starts to race. At this moment, you wish you could just transform the area to be calm and depopulated. 

And that’s when amidst everything, you feel a gentle squeeze of your hand. It’s a reassuring gesture from Gojo, who instinctively senses your discomfort without you even having to utter a word. “(Y/n), what’s wrong?” He stops in his tracks and looks down, his attention fully focused on you now. 

You squeeze it back and look up at him, noticing that your legs are wobbling a bit like a newborn baby fawn. You squeeze his hand harder, finding it to be the one source of stability and comfort in the moment. Squeezing it so hard and you can feel the pads of your fingers wedge deep within his hand, and he lets you. Even with his glasses on, you can tell he looks so concerned by the way the corner of his mouth turns slightly downright. You open your mouth, wanting to tell him you're okay, to tell him not to worry - but you just can’t. When you’re with him, it just feels right to be open about everything. Impossible to hide anything from him. So instead of the words I’m fine coming out of your slightly parted lips, you confess, “it’s all too loud…it’s too much…” 

In one fluid motion, Gojo drapes his cream colored coat around your shoulders, and you feel it’s warmth envelop you. The first thing you notice after that is the smell. It’s minty and woody, with notes of blue hibiscus. It smells like Gojo. It smells like home. 

In no time, he quickly takes you to a secluded area, deeper into the forest where you guys are away from the action. “Just breathe, breathe, breathe.” You’re trying your best, but the world just feels like it’s shaking and your breaths are still spastic. Gojo takes off his glasses abruptly and takes his hand up to your face, tilting your chin, making you look directly into his eyes. “Look at me. Look at me. You’re fine, I’m right here. Just focus on me.” 

He stares into your eyes, and you notice they look different. More beautiful than usual. Maybe it’s because they’re laced with worry and concern? You stare back. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t wanna make us late to the movie because of this-“

“Screw the movie! Don’t you dare apologize.”

You cling onto his shirt, and he lets you. Not only that, he pulls you in closer, rubbing his hand up and down your back reassuringly: protectively. Taking off his limitless completely, as you cradle your head into his chest to listen to the sound of his heartbeat. It’s so steady and strong, and becomes the anchor in the storm. You focus on its rhythm, matching your breaths to its cadence. With every inhale and exhale, you feel a sense of serenity washing over you. It’s so comforting and warm; you feel so safe within his arms as his presence envelops you, cocooning you from the chaos that was overwhelming you just moments ago and start to feel yourself calm down a little. 

"You're doing great," Gojo murmurs softly, his voice a soothing melody that wraps around you like a soft embrace. "Remember, there's no rush. We have all the time in the world. Just be here, in this moment, with me."

With each passing second, your tense muscles begin to relax, and the world which made you feel like you had sunken under water now felt like you had your head over the surface. Just enough to speak. 

“Satoru…,” you muffle softly, head still in his chest.

“Hm?” He’s quick to respond. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“I…it’s just that, a lot of things can just be too much for me in the moment and- and you’re always there to help me but I can’t help but feel like I’m being a burden-“

“Stop right there-,” Gojo’s interrupts, his voice firm yet gentle.

“But I mean…! Don’t you feel like protecting the weak is well…necessary but still tiring?” You look up at him, tears welling in your eyes. “I- I don’t want for you to feel burdened with me or like I’m a constant reminder of your work.”

Gojo’s gaze softens at you, and his hand cups your cheek, as he wipes away a tear from your eyes. “Listen to me, (y/n). You’re not weak. I mean it.” His tone is serious and caring, and his facial features show nothing but genuine concern for you. “You’re a strong, brilliant person. And it’s not the same. I want to protect you. I want to be by your side and look out for you and make sure you’re always smiling and safe. Protecting you has never been a burden, but a blessing. Because it’s you; the person I fell in love with,” he says with a gaze filled with something that can only be described as adoration. “And you need to give yourself more credit, you hold yourself so well in so many situations. So don’t hesitate to lean on me when things get hard, okay?”

A soft sigh escapes you as his thumb brushes against your skin, the tenderness of the gesture making your heart flutter, but it doesn’t stop there. He leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, then peppers his way down your face to kiss away another tear. 

You blush from his affectionate gestures, and from hearing him be so serious about you and accepting of your feelings. It really struck a cord in your heart when he was so caring and validating he was in times like these, despite the playful tease he usually was. You love it about him; how he knows you so well and gets so tender during moments like these. 

“Satoru…thank you,” you say as you cling even closer to him.

“You don’t have to thank me, angel,” he chuckles softly, when suddenly his face lights up. “Hehe, I have the perfect thing to make you feel better!” He says enthusiastically, as he quickly moves his hands down to the inside of his coat pockets, which is still wrapped around you. He pulls out an assortment of sweets, ranging from chocolates to lollipops. Your eyes widened as you witnessed his big hands seemingly disappear into the pockets to pull out such an immense amount of candies. 

“You have so many!! Way more than usual! This is like a kid coming home with a Halloween basket!” You excitedly state, looking down at all the sugary goodness.

“It was the snacks to sneak into the movie of course, No one's gonna pay that insane amount for snacks. Capitalistic schemes, tsk tsk tsk.”

“That’s so true,” you agree. “How are your pockets even that big, though? I wish women’s clothes came with bigger pockets, it would be soooo much nicer to have. And convenient,” you pout, thinking about all the times you went to put your phone in your jacket or pants pockets, only to find out they can fit probably only a singular cheeto in there, or worse - it’s just a pattern sewn on for the sole purpose of decoration. 

Gojo grins at you, his eyes twinkling mischievously, “Heh, I wouldn’t mind being your portable handy, dandy backpack whenever,” he chives in a playful tone. “I mean~ Isn’t it so cool that I can even teleport to you too? You also got yourself a portable boyfriend! A wombo combo,” he states, winking at you. “And if I get to see this cute face of yours each time I were to show up, it would be totally worth the distance,” he teases, a chuckle escaping his lips at the sight of your pouting face.

You laugh, and proclaim in a singsong voice, “wow~ my boyfriend is just soooo amazing, look at everything he can do.”

“Awh angel, you’re gonna make me blush. I’m just so great aren’t I?” He jokes, and as soon as you open up your mouth to deliver a comeback, he reaches over to your lips and plops a chocolate confection right inside before you even notice what’s happening. “There!” He proclaims like he just won a plush toy in a crane game, and he closes your lips using his index finger, brushing over them softly.

The gesture throws you off, especially with the way his big hands are caressing you so tenderly. You’re certain you can feel your heart skip multiple beats. And you’re pretty sure with the way it’s beating he’ll hear it jumping out of your chest. 

I’m gonna get ikemen overload at this rate-, you begin to think to yourself until you start chewing the little dessert. Your eyes open wide upon tasting it, and you quickly finish eating the whole thing. “That was so good!” You exclaim. One thing about Gojo that you happened to share a lot in common with is his sweet tooth, and sweets never failed to cheer you up. “What flavor was that?”

“I knew you’d like it! And as for the flavor-,” he leans down to your ears and whispers, “it’s a flavor called love~” 

“Satoru!” You state, slapping his chest playfully, a blush blossoming all over your face.

“Ahaha! I knew this would give you energy! It’s cheese curd from a Hungarian chocolate called Túro Rudi.” He pauses for a bit, admiring the way your face lit up after having eaten the sweet, and how interested you were in listening about it. “You really are so adorable when you get all excited like that, over even the littlest of things. Hehe, you know, I’m gonna give you even more of these sweets if you keep being this cute.

“Then I guess I should feed you some too, since you’re so cute,” you giggle.

Gojo chuckles and leans down in response, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. “Mm, thanks angel. It really is delicious.”

You whimper softly after he pulls away, wanting the feeling of his lips on yours back. A blush creeps on your face, and you can feel yourself melting like ice cream on the inside.

“There’s more in your pockets, right?”

“Yeah, but it tastes better this way.”

“You wanna taste more?” You ask sheepishly. 

“I’m dying too.”

He cups your face in his hands, and his lips meet yours once again. They’re so soft, and you can taste a little bit of strawberry from the lip balm he uses. You smile against them and respond to his kiss, weaving your hands through his silky locks. This time it’s longer, and both of you are savoring the moment. 

After pulling away to catch your breath, he gazed lovingly at your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you feeling better angel?”

“Mmhm,” you hum as you lean your head on his collarbone. “Much better.”

You guys stay like this for a while, just soaking in each other’s company. Gojo isn’t a fan of plans, but one thing he knows for sure is he plans to stay by your side for the rest of the day.

[romandaandromeda]

the amazing circus of not real episode 2:

[SPOILERS OF PARODIC NATURE AHEAD]

[buttonblossom shipping art at the end too in other news]

pomni: i am going to die a nobody because i [%$!#]ed up bad yesterday

ragatha: pomni

pomni:

ragatha: :(

caine: go to the candy place and catch some varmints

bubble: https://www.cs.cmu.edu/~biglou/resources/bad-words.txt

zooble: no

ragatha: pomni

pomni: uh

IN CANDY WORLD

everyone: this place looks awesome

[happy gangle dies]

princess loolilalu: hello youre all welcome here :)

ragatha: pomni (positive)

pomni: (negative)

ragatha: :(

princess loolilalu: you have to get our syrup back

ragatha: you got it

jax: i hope nothing but death and gore and violence and all that is unholy in the eyes of god happen today

jax: by the way gangle [%$!#] you

ELSEWHERE IN CANDY AUSTRALIA

gummygators: we gotta stop these guys from taking our rightful syrup

jax: i have a gun let’s kill these guys

gangle: lets not do th

jax: i have a gun let’s kill gangle

ragatha: pomni

jax: yeah pomni be useful for once

[he throws her out of the magical semitruck that i forgot to mention and gets wedged between the syrup truck and the semitruck, conflict ensues]

jax: i’ve really gotta let out my violence pomni be a dear and just keep cool

pomni: i hate you

[pomni gets unstretched]

jax: well look now i cant do my violence thing

gummygators: lets throw them off our trail

jax: lets kill them

[chase scene continues]

jax: lets kill them

ragatha: BUT POMNI

jax: gangle (specifically) lets kill them or i’ll blackmail you

gangle: 😃

[the gators freaking stab the semitruck and impale ragatha]

kinger: i will save the day and pomni

[he throws an anchor]

jax: :|

[the semitruck falls into chocolate river]

jax: you are responsible for every tragedy and atrocity ever committed in history i don’t know why anybody even trusts you anymore

gangle: :(

[pomni and gummigoo clip into the blue void of nonexistence]

IN THE BLUE VOID OF NONEXISTENCE

[gummigoo discovers he’s not real]

gummigoo: what is going on

pomni: uhm

gummigoo: what are we in the end

gummigoo: are we even real

gummigoo: what (philisophical)

BACK IN CANDY WORLD

[the gang are alright]

ragatha: i hope pomni’s okay

jax: could you literally shut up about pomni and focus on the now

the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie: im gonna eat you

ragatha: dont actually

the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie: oh man im sorry

jax: what the heck are you anyways

the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie: im the fudge and i eat people which is why i got banished to this river

ragatha: dear god

jax: you’re actually the coolest thing i’ve ever experienced (ragatha you have licorice hair)

ragatha: >:(

jax: i’ll help you get back into the kingdom if you help us

[the 2 remaining gummygators fall right into the chocolate river]

BACK IN THE BLUE VOID OF NONEXISTENCE

[pomni attempts to get a truck moving]

pomni: are you alright

gummigoo: no i’m literally just a puppet

pomni: i feel you man

gummigoo: we’re fake things for your crew to stop every time

pomni: well you still have your crew up there and you care about them like they do you right

gummigoo: why does this matter

pomni: because nobody should go through this at any point

gummigoo: well then let’s get ourselves out of this mess

pomni: we gotta get the truck to glitch out again

[so they do exactly that and have a bit of a moment in the teapot zone]

BACK IN CANDY WORLD

jax: well this sucked

gangle: why

jax: i wanted to kill people

ragatha: so they’re just gone

the 2 remaining gummigators: yeah

ragatha: right

kinger: well caine could find her easily

ragatha: yeah but she could be suffering and she isn’t fond of me after what happened yesterday

kinger: dont let it get to you maybe she’s just adjusting to this word like you did when you were new

ragatha: true

kinger: huh

[pomni and gummigoo burst out of the ground and kill the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie by landing at mach 1 on him]

ragatha: POMNI

pomni: hi and i made a friend

[both gangs agree on taking the two syrup trucks on their own ways]

jax: https://youtu.be/rPKN7-pTpCY?si=YtSnNuJD1hlICZ1G

ragatha: maybe next time

jax: shut the [%$!#] up maybe

pomni: btw this is gummigoo and he’s joining the circus

ragatha: sounds good to me

jax: SHUT UP

princess loolilalu: you saved our kingdom

princess loolilalu: have fun killing that gator

pomni: yeah (sarcastically)

[that scene when the tripod emerges in war of the worlds 05 but with the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie happens off screen]

jax: hehe

ragatha: WHAT DID YOU DO

princess loolilalu: no seriously what did you do

jax: bye

BACK IN THE DIGITAL CIRCUS

caine: welcome back everyone

gummigoo: this place is nice

caine: oh

[gummigoo perishes]

caine: just a precaution

[pomni loses her mind]

caine: okay bye

zooble: good riddance

ragatha: well maybe he’ll return some day

[the gang without jax hold a funeral for kaufmo]

[genuinely a pretty emotional scene and pomni feels assured]

THE END

in summary for fellow buttonblossom shippers:

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Please do the Chris Evans pottery fic! I legit have always thought about for years! Like him taking a night class or a private class for anxiety or hobby (that Scott guilted him to take) so he doesn’t get recognized and the reader (please preferably male) vaguely knows who he is and doesn’t care and teaches him and he falls in love with reader. Like a slow burn. Bro please I’m on my knees begging 🙏 your writing is god tier for Chris fics

related to this

First and foremost I have to say, goddamn, you really went back into the archives to find that post 💀💀 don't get me wrong, I appreciate the hell out of you for that but, also, oof, have I already been on Tumblr for 3 fucking years!?

What? When?

Second, I actually never thought too much about that idea haha. I just couldn't get past the idea of Chris using his hands in that way 🥴 because look, I'm much more of a sculptor than a potter, but it has never been lost on me (a) how much skill it takes to throw on the wheel, and (b) how fucking hot it can look lmao

So, because I never thought too deep about the idea beyond the look, I have to say That's A 👏🏻 Top 👏🏻 Notch 👏🏻 Idea 👏🏻

I love that idea, like:

Chris rolls up to a night pottery class with a baseball cap pulled down real low, trying not to be noticed, squeezing his shoulders in to be less big and noticeable.

You notice him though--he looks a little funny, trying so hard not to stand out and obviously not realizing that a long sleeve, chunky cardigan is 100% the wrong thing to wear when you're about to be playing with clay. But, you don't care about him being Mr. Movie Star (or dressed badly for this activity lol) because, obviously, if he's here for a class, he wants to learn

(Later you'll learn that Scott was the one to push him into it, telling him, lovingly, to quit just talking about beginning to work with his hands and actually Do It)

and so, he's gonna learn.

You are the teacher though, so... it's your duty to keep the secret that Captain America is in their midst.

(But that won't keep you from teasing him subtlety by asking him if he'd perhaps like a blue or red or clear glaze)

Chris might not pick up the skill of throwing as quickly as some of the others (mostly because he's never messed with clay before while many of the other students have even if it was years ago in high school or college or wherever), but he's dedicated.

He puts his all into learning throwing.

You learn quickly, instructing Chris, that he has this tendency to squeeze a little too hard and over-correct the clay. The strength he's got comes in handy with wedging clay and assisting in reconstructing the electric kilns by putting in the heavy shelves, but, when on the wheel, it's not about how hard you can press the clay, how hard you can squeeze it, or anything like that (unless you're working on huge, HUGE projects with massive amounts of clay... but, these students are not there yet). It's about letting your hands glide over the clay, it's encouraging the clay to stretch and compress delicately.

Pottery very much more finesse than force.

And you tell him that a lot in the beginning, "relax, for now, don't try to control it too much. Try to let go and just feel. Keep your elbows anchored in your hips and thighs, but, otherwise, stay loose and relaxed. Breath out. Sink into it, y’know? Relax."

Chris laughs, looking up at you from the little mound of clay he's been centering on his wheel head, "I didn't know this would be so... spiritual? I mean, shit, this feels like therapy."

"Ha," you say, "just be glad it's therapy and not Ghost."

Chris chuckles, "are those my only two options?"

"Right now, rookie? Yes." You point back at his unattended and still spinning wheel, "now, please put your nose back to the grindstone before I'm forced to saddle up behind you. I don't need to be shot in the streets before I get hands-on with my teaching"

You swear, under that cap and beard, Chris blushes. But. He also gets back to work, so... you can't be sure you're not just seeing things 👀

There are a lot of little moments like that throughout the class. Flirting. Maybe. Maybe not. Chris might just be that charming. You can't be too sure.

It's very charming to watch Chris pick up his wobbly creations after they've been put through the bisque kiln and laugh at their unstable bumps and lumps as he tries to set them flat on the table. Plus, when he sands his pieces, he murmurs to himself, talking about all the silly mistakes he finds. Nail marks. Dips. Bulges. Extra bits of clay he missed when trimming. You swear you hear him call himself a "meatball" once...

That is a challenge to not laugh at, but, you don't because you don't want him to know you're paying such close attention to him. (You can't have favorite students after all 😘)

And later, it's very sweet to watch him admire his first glazed pieces. He's very gentle with them, running his fingers back and forth, back and forth, over the smooth glaze. He seems to enjoy the smooth sensation.

Also, listen, I have no proof but I feel like Chris is gonna be the type of potter that gets Really Messy. Like, clay and slip all over his hands, of course, but also all up his forearms and flecks of it on his face and in his hair. His poor apron and shoes.

Also, I think Chris would be the type of potter that wipes their hands on their thighs over their apron 😮‍💨

Chris takes one class then another and another. He's getting much, much better.

But, he still looks like he's watching you perform magic when you quickly throw a vace or pie platter for a demonstration. It's really endearing. You'd love to see more of his face while watching you work, but, no matter how good you are at pottery, you can't do it without looking. Not yet... maybe someday, if you keep practicing.

And eventually, I'd like to think that you exchange numbers. Chris no longer takes your class and so it's fair game.

He comes over to your place and you cook a meal together because you already know each other well enough. So, you skip the more public dates that are better for strangers.

Chris seems mystified by the fact that ALL your plates, bowls, mugs, etc. are things you've made. Thrown on the pottery wheel. He just thinks it's very cool and personal. Also, he swears because of taking your class that he can't look at a factory-made plate or bowl or mug the same. They look so plain and lifeless now. In return, you tease that you'd offer to make him a set for his own home as a present (maybe for his birthday or Christmas) but, you're gonna insist that he at least try to make a set himself first.

And, hey, if he needs more encouragement maybe that Ghost option could come true...

Sorry, this is so short but I just had to get some real quick thoughts out between study sessions lol

Thank you so much for bringing this up again and thank you for reading!!

[fanaticat]

Like everyone else, I downloaded prime and watched Red White and Royal Blue this week.

I really loved the main characters, and an enemies to friends to lovers plot is like the basis of half of my serotonin.

I was a little unsure how believable their relationship development was going to be at the very beginning. At first their conflict seemed extra contrived…even for a rom com. They didn’t get along because of some tabloid comparisons and ONE minor miscommunication YEARS ago? C’mon.

BUT…after finishing the movie and really seeing where they went with it, it makes so much more sense. And I really, really love it.

Both Henry and Alex struggle so much with their public vs private personas.

Alex is cast as the charismatic, smooth social butterfly; Henry as a reserved, pompous rock of a person.

But underneath that, they’re both insecure goofballs who want to be loved, support their families, and do good in the world for the countries they serve. (And that’s really why they ultimately work so well together.)

They’re such complicated people who want desperately to be seen and appreciated for their whole selves. That’s where their conflict stems from when they were younger. They both saw this other man in a similarly difficult position, felt this instant attraction to him, and wanted the other one to somehow recognize their struggle and see the man underneath the facade. Unfortunately, they are so worried about being seen THEMSELVES that they fail to recognize the same desires in one another…until the fall-out from cake-gate.

Once they resolve their initial misunderstanding, the conflicts in the movie really aren’t so much between the two of them anymore. Instead, the conflicts arise when their INDIVIDUAL values and public/private lives seem to be at odds with one another.

The very things they bond over - supporting their families and the people the serve - drive the wedge between them. They worry that if they show their private selves at all, their ability to be valuable to their families and to their people will be compromised.

In spite of this, we see both of them breaking down the walls between their public and private selves during their time together, and showing more and more of who they really are. Sometimes they are the exact OPPOSITE of their public selves.

As we see their relationship develop, Henry - ever the poet - is often the smooth and confident one in their personal affairs, while Alex is sometimes awkward and unsure of himself in bed.

“Your body comes back to me in dreams” (!?! Henry WTF how long did you work on that verse before you hit send).

Versus…

“Who says ‘make love these days? Are we gonna listen to Lana Del Rey while we do it?” (Alex again covering his nerves with humor for the millionth time.)

And when things really get rough, we see Alex stepping up to be Henry’s solid anchor in the storm, and Henry openly admitting to him that he’s not ok. (Is there any more perfect moment than the two of them collapsing on the stairs together, holding onto one another for all they’re worth!?! Part of me DIED. An Amazon rom com has no business making me feel feelings like that.)

Their individual progression culminates in Alex giving this beautiful speech about both his love for Henry and his hopes for the people he serves. He is every bit the charismatic leader he is supposed to be, but he’s open and genuine, with heaps of vulnerability and no pretense. He uses his experience to admonish those who would do the same to others, and re-affirms that his family will continue to fight for those who need support.

Henry’s moment is equally perfect for him. No grand speech. Dignified and understated. He simply steps onto the balcony, waves, and makes history. But he doesn’t do it alone - he has Alex on his right side the whole time. He’s firm in standing up for himself, and genuine in wanting to take that step not just for himself, but to change the precedents and expectations for everyone else in his current and future kingdom. No more hiding beautiful things in silent, dark museums, but pulling them out into the light with a calm smile on his face and steel in his backbone.

The central conflict of the movie starts with the problems caused by the discrepancy between their personal and public selves, and ends with the lovely resolution of that conflict. And their love for one another is the catalyst for all that change. Henry and Alex truly bring out the best in one another, and by the end of the movie we have to believe that they’re going to go on to do great things.

Plus it’s just damn cute.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Blue Lagoon

Pairing: Yoo Kihyun x female reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 879

Blue was everywhere. The cerulean sky met the ocean in the distance, blinding Kihyun every time he dared to look out at the bright tropical scenery before him. Then there was your swimsuit, a playful thing of navy and white, complimenting your royal blue nail polish that currently held a fruity mocktail topped with, you guessed it, a blue umbrella.

He was close to laughing when he met your blue eyes, a knowing smile crossing your lips as you took a sip. “Overwhelmed?”

“Here in paradise?” he questioned, shaking his head. “No way.”

“Liar,” you said.

When you told Kihyun he had to travel with you to the Caribbean, he was a little confused. Why him? He had been asking himself ever since you gave him the second plane ticket to this all-expenses paid trip you had won. He’d even asked you too, and you had been simple with the responses.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to soak up the rays with me on the beach and take a bunch of photos, Kihyun.”

“We both need a break.”

“You were the first person I thought of. Why wouldn’t I want my best friend here with me?”

He supposed it made sense. But Kihyun knew you well and could tell when you were skirting around truths. Besides, you had a boyfriend of two years back home who should have been in his place.

Looking down at the white shirt unbuttoned over his upper half and his green swimming shorts, he didn’t have a single blue thing in common with this place like you did.

Slumping on the poolside barstool, he turned his attention to the drink you were sucking up through a straw and continued to contemplate his strange melancholy. He was in paradise. Yet he hadn’t relaxed since landing late last night.

“Stop thinking so hard.”

“Tell me why I’m here then.”

You suffered out a groan. “Persistence has always been your downfall.”

“You’re equally as stubborn,” he countered, and you shared an easy grin, a momentary familiarity pulsing between you. And then Kihyun looked back out at the dreamy surroundings and remembered he was like a fish out of water here.

Ironic, due to the water all around him.

“I didn’t withhold information from you entirely. When I won the tickets, you were the first person I thought of. I started to plan the entire trip with you in mind. Where we could visit that would take the best photos, what we could discover together. The food we’d eat, and all the dancing at night. Everything with you sounded like the best trip ever.”

He nodded softly, agreeing with your thought process. You were the person he turned to first with everything in his life. It made sense, you were his longest friend, after all.

You put down the drink you had been enjoying, playing with the straw in the almost empty glass. The paper umbrella that was stuck in a wedge of orange loosened, and Kihyun caught it before it fell. He looked at it as if it would hold all the answers, but all it did was open and close as he methodically pushed the mechanism on the stick.

“Being here with you means I left Ben behind,” you said quietly, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth after. “Choosing you meant I didn’t choose him.”

“He won’t be too thrilled.”

“He’s no longer in the picture, Ki.”

Snapping his focus to yours, he found an unguarded vulnerability in those blue eyes of yours. How often had he stared into your eyes and lost time within them? He could stay trapped within you forever, he was certain. However, the way you watched him now was different. Hopeful. Nervous. Determined.

Holy shit, he thought, his mouth falling ajar. You had chosen him.

“I’ve always loved you,” you told him, breaking your stare, looking out to the sea beyond the resort’s large pool. “I just didn’t realise I was in love with you until I chose you.”

Kihyun watched your throat bob nervously as the silence stretched, no doubt your confession being something you had hoped to do when you both weren’t floating adrift so you could have something to anchor onto. Reaching out for your bare thigh, Kihyun squeezed it gently, offering you a lifeline. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your hand around his wrist, your blue once again washing all over him. Kihyun wanted to drown in you, in this moment.

Paradise lay at his feet and held onto his wrist.

Smiling more casually than he felt, Kihyun shifted closer to you. “I’ve loved you forever.”

“Oh, I know.” A sly curl of your lips accompanied your response. “You’ve never successfully hidden your feelings from me.”

“Is that right?” You shared a laugh.

“I want to explore this place with you,” you told him determinedly, and Kihyun knew you weren’t talking about the island you were staying on. “What do you want to do?”

Jumping down off his stool, he held out his hand for yours. Once again, you didn’t hesitate to slip it against his, fitting just as perfectly as it always had. He smiled down at your linked hands, liking your blue against his skin. “I’m up for a new adventure with you.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[MONSTA X Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist]

[fixdex-fastening-technology]

👉FIXDEX M8 concrete screw 💗large quantity with best price

[magemultifics]

Dark Samus Smut Piece

A/N: You're a wounded bounty hunter (not Samus, but part of the 3 samus joined up with in MP3)

Blood rushed to your side, impaled from an earlier fight, you felt dizzy in the cock pit of your ship. You heard the door to your ship open, with metal clad footsteps approaching your part in the ship. You knew you were fucked, it was the end, and you take notice of the phazon empowered being stalking towards you. It offered a hand, and once your visions blurriness started to fade you take note it was Samus' dark phazon infused doppelganger. You feared death you feared pain, you're not sure what this eldritch power could offer you, but you'll take what you can get and so you placed your bloodied hand in hers. The armored helm lowered itself Infront of you and cradled your face in a singular rough skinned hand before you felt her channel light traces of phazon into your bloodstream. Your labored breathing choked and intensified as your wounds stung, but they were closing, the shrapnel in your side slipping out of the wound. You can hear a distorted female voice crackling from inside the helm I can take away your pain if you'll let me take you in return. You vigorously nod, you have clue into her intentions of adding you to the hive mind, but it's a better fate than to be chewed up my space pirates. Dark Samus tilts her visor willingly then, curious. She rests her hands on each side of her helm before lifting it off of her head. What you were expecting was the half formed phazon monstrosity you'd heard samus fight the first time, but now before you is a woman of pale blue skin, dark veins running just under the skin. The under side of her black hair glows bright in phazon energy and her eyes, all three of them lock on to you. You tense up, your breathing accelerates, Dark Samus takes notice and leans in close, her glossy black lips pressed against your ear shhhhhh, I'll take care of you, mine now. Her lips trail down the column of your throat leaving wet sucking kisses against your skin. Dark Samus is quick to peel your armor off, her clawed fingers forming into smooth hands that run themselves through your hair soft her distorted voice trails off in fascination. Her thigh wedges itself between your legs and pressed firmly against your body suit right in the juncture of your thighs. Your breath picks up and you can feel the doppelganger's mouth tighten in a pleased smile. She moves her thigh, the thick alien texture of her suit rubbing you in a way you couldn't describe.

You feel your body suit tearing and take notice of the alien eldritch tearing your body suit with her hands. She curiously dips a finger into your arousal before bringing it up to her mouth, leaning back her face comes into view and you see her open her mouth in a brief flash of fang she pops the arousal coated finger into her mouth. Humming curiously her hand returns to that spot between your legs and sinks it in deeper, before curling it tightly. Your back arches breath hitching, you reach for Dark Samus to pull her in by the shoulders to get a firm anchor on reality. Dark Samus tilts her head curiously before joining her lips with yours, swallowing one of your shocked moans as she adds a second finger to curl alongside the first. She thrusts them in a jerky rhythm that has you shaking on her thigh curled against her front. Her glowing tongue prods at your lips and you let it in without a fight, earning a teasing hum from the other woman. Her tongue seemed a bit longer and much hotter than a typical one, and made its way across your own tongue and lathering it in metallic phazon saliva. You can feel the corruption take over you, slowly being absorbed into your body. You can only suck on her tongue and let out keening moans as her fingers thrust unrelentingly inside you and curl into that spongy bit that has you screaming into her mouth. She retracts her alien tongue a bit to kiss you normally (as normal as a radioactive eldritch being can get) before watching you come undone in her arms. A small smile pulls away at her lips, her yellow eyes flashing in hunger and fascination seeing you crumbling into a shaking mess in her arms.

Dark Samus wasn't finished, her body slinked lower as she lowered herself to place her head between your legs. You catch a glance of yourself in the ship's mirror, bright blue essence leaking from your mouth and spilling over your breasts. Your head feels fuzzy, the only clear feeling is the sensation of her tongue sliding past your folds delving farther than her fingers could go. You take a sharp breath as Dark Samus drags her thumb in slow circles around your clit, the overstimulation of your previous orgasm giving you a whole new feeling of shaky. Your thighs quiver around the alien's head, and she just lets out a haunting laugh, sending vibrations between your legs. Her tongue twists inside you, undoubtably lathering your walls in phazon infused liquids. You begin to reach a peak again, rocking your hips against the doppelgangers face, voice cracking with drawn out sighs, grunts, and moans of pleasure. You crest over the edge, waves of pleasure slamming you through and through, and you grip the woman's hair and pull her even closer between your legs her tongue thrusting through the after shocks before pulling out. Dark Samus makes her way up your body, taking each nipple into her mouth and hand briefly before meeting your lips in a kiss. You taste yourself on her lips as her tongue brushes yours. Another glance in the mirror shows phazon leaking out from between your legs, a weirdly satisfying feeling emerges from that sight alone. Dark Samus Pulls your shaking body into her arms, as you begin to lose consciousness.

Rest, you've earned it, my loyal pet.

A/N: Listen, late night monster fucking. I'm sexually attracted to becoming part of a hive mind stfu

[cryopathiic-a]

'What is this?! Why can't I break this rope..?!'

█▃▆▃█▃▆▃█▃▆▃█▃▆▃█▃█

Whatever that shrine maiden did.. he couldn't undo it. That sacred binding, or whatever she called it, had fully immobilized Akaza. The strange red rope bound the Upper Moon at the wrists and ankles. Anchoring him to the ground, even preventing him from wriggling into the sanctuary of the shade just off to the side of this abandoned place of worship. How was this possible? All that old woman did was utter some words when he got too close to the grounds of an old shrine..! Suddenly he was here. Stuck on a cobblestone foundation, straining against moss and the dirt of holy grounds left to the mists of time for at least a few decades. Pink hair and tattooed cheeks now speckled with dirt and flecks of moss turned loose with their struggle.

"Damn it..!! Shit..!!" All Akaza could do was seethe as the veins beneath his skin bulged and strained with their knuckles beneath turned blue tattoos pale with white-hot frustration at his current situation. Bound and despite all of his efforts, unable to sever the thick rope that now felt as if it was burning the Upper moon with the tension and force behind their attempts to break free.

There was only an hour or so until daybreak. Akaza was fully exposed in a forest where no human dared to tread now that word of a demon had likely gotten out, and the rope felt as if it was made of lead. This was certainly not good.

Each Kizuki has their respective use and purpose. Handpicked by their Lord for their unique talents, the task of finding that elusive bloom is shared among them — but some have methods much less refined than others. And knowing that, Dōma didn't second-guess what might have happened to his beloved friend. Akaza was reknowned for his temper after all. This time, he just picked the wrong place and time.

And, oh, his night was about to get much, much worse. Because, unfortunately for him, the smell of his despair had drawn in a certain vulture.

A ruffle from above as branches rock and shed oak leaves on the disgraced third moon. And then—

❝ Hey there! ❞ Dōma's face comes dangling down, just inches apart from Akaza's nose. ❝ Would you look at that! We ended up bumping on each other again... ❞ Coincidentally. ❝ I must say, Lord Akaza, I did not expect to find you near this sort of establishment! Have you decided to revisit you opinions on religion, perhaps? ❞ Upper Two's face presses into a gleeful smile at that.

And he hops off; landing gracefully with fabrics floating around his form. After patting down on his hakama, Dōma pulls some stray white gold away from his face and turns to his fellow Kizuki with a grin; a grin that the trained eye would immediately flag as quite devious.

❝ Oh, that looks rather painful, huh? ❞ A lavender claw is first pointed to the restraints... and then Dōma takes that pivotal step too close to the other. His finger is distinctly icy when it traces down the veins littering Akaza's forearm and digs under the bind. That little wedge would be enough to increase the pressure for a moment, wouldn't it? Especially when that claw is flicked away, leaving the rope to lash an already reddened wrist. Dōma's face wrinkles with a cutesy smile.

❝ You poor thing... how did you manage to end up like this, huh? It's really unwise to be exposed out here, you know. The sun will be up soon. ❞ The tone grows somber as he directs Akaza's attention to the dawning light. That makes things urgent. Well. It's not often that Dōma would come upon an opportunity to make his best friend plead for his aid like that. And, in the gleam of his eye, it becomes evident that he intends to milk it.

❝ Oh well. You should be more careful next time, Lord Akaza! Although, I'm sure you'll figure this out by yourself, right? You don't seem to need my help. ❞ He explains, before waving the other off and turning to walk away —

He wants to hear it.

[rosesradio]

i feel guilty for not writing (like, ever :’) ) so here’s a little piece on will’s first crush being steve (in the sense that mike had a crush on eddie, sometimes kids crush on older teens, not actually endorsing will/steve or mike/eddie). anyways, it’s 1k words and based in s1, enjoy--

The D20

November 6, 1983.

"Come on, Will, hurry up!" Mike's voice called from downstairs. Will had taken a bathroom break--hours of playing and several sodas will do that to you, but the rest of the Party acted as though he was a monster for pausing their game. He ran a shortcut through the living room recklessly, not glancing around at any of his surroundings, and collided face first into someone wearing a dark blue sweater.

"Sorry!" Will said hurriedly. There was a clatter, and--"Oh, shoot, where's my D20?" He started searching around the ground for it, not really caring about who he bumped into. It was probably just Mr. Wheeler, and he wasn't about to get on the ground to help look.

"Your D...what?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

Will glanced up to see someone he hadn't met before, but he could only assume was Steve, Nancy's new boyfriend. Mike had called him Steve "The Hair" Harrington or Annoying Pretty Boy, and this guy looked as though he could match the description. He was...pretty. Will supposed he hadn't really thought about that with anyone, except maybe characters in TV shows.

"My D20," Will explained, a heat rising to his cheeks now at how reckless he'd been. "The die I was using for DnD. Mike got it for me, and Lucas told me if I carried it around for luck, we might could win the campaign--"

"Right," Steve nodded. Smiled. Will smiled back. "Well, I better help you find it, then. Can't let them know it touched the ground, or else the monsters might get you."

Will had a sneaking suspicion he was making fun of him, but also...not. At least he wasn't doing it outright in the way his dad used to. He nodded, and Steve got down on the floor to help him scope out the tiny die.

"Oh," Steve reached for it--it was wedged under one of the curving table legs of the coffee table. "Is this it? Wow, it's colorful."

"Yeah," Will took the die with a smile. "Mike said the purple and green swirls look like magic, so maybe it'd bring luck."

"Hm," Steve hummed. "I thought that nerd--I mean magical game stuff had a lot of superpowers. Why would you need luck?"

Will looked thoughtful at that. "I guess I don't. I've been casting protection all game...maybe I'll try Fireball this time..."

"Will, come on, the Party needs you!" Mike called again.

"Gotta go," Will said. "Um. I could leave the die here, maybe. If you ever want to play with Nancy?"

Steve laughed at that, but it wasn't a mean laugh. Maybe he found Will...charming. Mom always said he had a special way of making people like him...even if the kids at school couldn't see that yet.

"Yeah, maybe," Steve shrugged. "Good luck at your game, then."

"Thanks," Will replied, noting a moment later how breathless he sounded, and how stupid that was. He hurried downstairs, meeting Mike's eyes with a giddy smile. Steve may have been pretty and nice, but no one matched Will's love of DnD like Mike.

--

"Why did you stop?" Jonathan asks him. They're both sitting in those uncomfortably stiff chairs in the station, trusted enough to be kept from fighting in Powell's company. "You had all that shit to say about me, about my family, and you tried to fight...but you let me win. Why?"

Steve can feel a smile form on his lips, but his heart is heavy, pierced with the anchor of his earlier words. "I let you win?" He felt like, at one time--at an hour ago, he would have rubbed that in Jonathan's face. But no, Jonathan beat the shit out of him until the cops came, no doubt about it. Even if he hadn't saw...what he saw. If he hadn't thought too much into it...no, Jonathan still would've beaten him. Steve's heart wasn't in it, not really.

"Yeah," Jonathan pushes further. "You had this...look in your eyes. You saw something. What was it?"

Steve scoffed, slumping in his seat so far his back hurt. What did it matter, what he saw? Will Byers was dead, he'd watched the burial. But even so, he could feel it, the die, weighing a hole in his pocket, with so many sides it felt like an even ball. He thought on a stupid jab to say, but it was no use. This was far above either of them.

He pulled the die from his pocket, holding it out for Jonathan. "It fell out of your pocket during the fight. I didn't want," he paused, the breath too big for his lungs. He wasn't going to cry, not for this kid he didn't know. But he thought of how sweet his smile was, how innocent. How he suggested he played DnD with Nancy. And his eyes were stinging a little...probably because Jonathan had punched him in the nose earlier. "I didn't want it to get scratched up, that's all."

"Oh," Jonathan said softly, taking the die from him, rolling it in his fingers. "Yeah, um. Thanks."

Steve nodded, sitting up with a shrug. "I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean it, any of it. As soon as we get out of here, I'm...gonna try to make things right. I know that won't bring Will back, but...I want to do whatever I can, you know. To help."

Jonathan gave him this odd look, then, as if Steve suddenly started speaking another language. But he relaxed, marginally. Then he seemed...thoughtful. Contemplative. He leaned over and whispered. "Don't say a word, but I'll give this back to Will when I see him."

When he sees him...? Steve's brows furrowed. He can't be talking about the afterlife, could he? Most everyone in Hawkins was Christian, but Steve didn't think the Byers were the religious type. Even so, when he pulled away with a curious look, Steve had a feeling Jonathan was talking about something a little bit stranger.

[handbagfashionexpert]

5 Creative Ways To Style Your Large Beach Tote

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[moltengoldveins]

writing snippet

.

“Come on then!” The woman cries from above, her voice clattering down the canyon like an eagle in flight. Nebenai laughs, fingers gripping tighter to her precarious hold, shoulders burning as the healing sigils begin to heat the gouges on her fingertips and the pads of her palms. 

“I’m stuck!” She yells back, and the woman sighs, anchor chain clattering. Then, with easy grace, she kicks off her perch and falls, rope catching, creaking, swinging her out and down and past Nebenai’s position, inches from slamming into her and knocking them both off the cliff. She falls away, then swings back, ankles scraping against stone to come to a terrifying halt pressed against Nebenai’s side. 

“Hi.” Her grin is audible, breathless, the noonday sun is streaking around her head and casting her in painful silhouette. 

Nebenai rolls her narrowed eyes, her smile never faltering. “Oh shut up, help me out here.” 

One broad hand clamps down on the makeshift harness, the other on the rope above them both, and she begins to haul them both up the cliffside. Nebenai soon finds places to wedge her feet and push, helping direct their climb until eventually, gasping and laughing, they spill over the top of the cliff and splay out in the sunlight. 

Beneath them, so far as to be tinted blue by the distance, spreads the valley they just spent the day traversing. Behind a hill, a curl of smoke rises from the camp, tracing upwards into the air like an inkbrush on paper. 

Finally, Nebenai pushes herself up on her elbows, throwing one hand out to block the sun. The woman is already upright, perched above the precipice like a church gargoyle, arms spread wide to balance. Her fingers play in the wind like feathers, or autumn leaves. 

Nebenai reaches out with one foot to tap the woman’s ankle. “You know, you’re going to be the death of me one day.” 

The woman’s laugh is like bourbon, like a dagger, like a swallowed torch. It sounds like it hurt going down. “Please, give me some credit. I already am.” 

[raytm]

@lovesigned continued.

thirteen; immutable  is  the  world  that  tortures  and  relishes  it.   he  had  seen  it  in  the  passing  faces  of  strangers,  in  the  repugnant  lilt  of  insults  and  animus  he  had  yet  to  earn.   in  his  world,  within  those  constant  nights  punctuated  by  incessant  hunger  and  oppressive  fear  he  had  taught  himself  to  steal;   taking  was  the  one  way  he  could  retaliate  against  them  and  could  carve  a  way  forwards  for  himself. Is  that  how  he  looked  to  her  ?  malnourished  and  vindictive,   boyish  and  outcast.   he  doesn’t  know  what  he  sees  in  her,  if  he  looks  long  and  hard  he  is  convinced  he  witnesses  someone  older,   someone  who  holds  firm  to  responsibility,   taller  and  lithe  but  more  than  anything  else,   commanding.   these  are  stolen  glances,  a reprieve  between  encounters  with  death  and  its  harbingers  and  perhaps  he  was  naïve  as  to  have  not  suspected  her,   but  his  features  remain  obscure  in  the  glow  cast  by  fire.  the  fog  yields  to  her,   undulates  somnolently  as  if  shepherded.  is  it  a  pang  of  betrayal  that  wedges  between  his  lungs, or  is  it  awe,  the  sort  that  has  his  mouth  pursed  and  his  gaze  trained  to  her  hands.   “  you’re  one  of  them ." an  epiphany,  but  it  holds  no  agitation,   is  not  whetted  in  aggrieved  revelations.  it’s  like  gazing  long  and  steadily  at  something  ethereal,   captivating  in  the  subtle  flicker  of  light.  is  it  foolish  to  reach  for  her,  to  accept  the  hand  she  extends  as  a  passage  to  salvation,  to  avenge  his  weak  self  and  find  rebirth  at  the  steep  incline  of  rolling  dunes.   he  would  laugh  at  how  strange  it  all  is,  at  how  she  is  both  precisely  as  he  saw  her  and  something  so  much  more  than  that.  but  he’s  silent,  the still  blue  waters  of  his  gaze  lingering  upon  her  outstretched  hand.  “  i  cannot  believe  it ,   you  had  me  entirely  convinced.”   this  anchor,   this  sentiment  of  acceptance  he  had  never  sought ,  nor  found  anywhere  else.  the  boy  allows  his  hand  to  slip  into  hers,  fitting  in  some  predetermined  way,   small  and  willowy,  sullied  by  sand  and  ash.   “ ... take  me  with  you. ”  he  says,   and  he  means  it.  

[unknownjpegs]

gecko

When Maran returns from an incredibly awkward encounter in Innsmouth’s only general store, his arms laden by paper bags filled to the brim with all manner of American confectionary (and other dietary necessities, else Benji gets on his case), there is a man standing on his dock. 

All right, technically the dockmaster’s dock, but Maran’s paying a fucking arm and leg to anchor there. It’ll be his dock for as long as those payments are coming out of his pockets.

The man outstretches a black-gloved hand for Maran as he approaches, but it’s not meant for Maran to clownishly balance bags to take and swing in an enthusiastic handshake. Which he does — and then immediately feels fucking daft for doing.

“I meant,” the stranger says, cheeks folding agreeably with the force of his amused, sneering grin, “for you to hand off one of the bags.”

“I can handle it,” Maran says, hoping none of the peeved annoyance or pout makes its way into his tone. “Don’t even know who you are, mate.”

He’s blond, judging from the light color of his facial hair. He’s wearing a red beanie, discolored from the soak of the ocean spray directly next to them, that obscures the rest. Maran would like to know if his hair is as pale as his eyes. 

“Benson.” He responds, and then forcibly takes a nearly-tearing bag away from Maran’s wrist. “I g-go by Benny.’ 

“Oh, shit.” Maran laughs. He stumbles forward toward the boat without any other preamble, immediately at ease. “You’re Benji’s —“ Maran scrunches his nose, tilts his head at the other man. “Well, dunno. Never clear about that. Didn’t want to presume.”

“I’m Innsmouth’s coroner b-before I’m Benji’s anything but problem,” Benny chirps goodnaturedly. Maran immediately understands why he had any sort of rapport with Benji at all. Both of them were pricks.

“Okay, Innsmouth’s coroner Benny Benson, problem of Benji, visitor on my dock.” Maran declares, nudging a bag higher with his knee. “Help me get these inside, then stay for a cuppa?”

“W-What’s with the name?”

Maran leans slightly off the dock, one converse easily balanced against wet plank and the other hanging casually in the air above the churning water. He peers at the golden cursive — never gets old to read. Life Insurance.

“Most support thing the old man did for me, croakin’,” he quips with a sharp do not ask about him grin. “Wanna meet the first mate? Ain’t a talker, but I think you’ll like ‘em.” 

*

When Maran peeks his head into the cabin, he lets out a sharp gasp. Behind him, he feels Benny jump at the sound.

“Sorry, sorry,” Maran’s laughing as he wedges himself into the door, drops the bags. He’s holding up a finger as he disappears into the orange-glow of the boat. “Just one second — he’s not — he’s gotta be right here for it to work, hold on, sorry.” 

He emerges a moment later, shutting the door and leaning back against it. The boat rocks softly on the residual waves from the storm, and Maran sways fluidly with it. Muscle memory and strong legs, which Benny seems not to be as skilled at; clearly, he’s been on ships before. Have to be, right, growing up in a place like Innsmouth. Maran watches him sway, strands of blond hair under the edge of his beanie stuck to his jaw by the spray and humidity in the air. 

“You going to let me see inside?”

It strikes Maran as a particularly funny thing to say from someone in Benny’s profession. So he laughs, loud and unapologetic. He makes a sawing motion in the air between them, tongue tucked between his teeth.

“Say that before crackin’ every poor lad open?”

To his delight, the dark joke lands. A twitchy little curve of the mouth, one brow disappeared into the edge of that red beanie, a cheeky eye roll. Lands a little too well, maybe, because Benny leans forward. More into Maran’s space. His eyes, unavoidable this close, are the same stormy blue as the sky where it hasn’t been filtered by clouds. He stares into the peculiar shade. For some reason, Maran’s smile slips a bit. His mouth goes dry. He wonders when the last time he’d had a drink was, and winces internally at how Benji would react to that little piece of information. 

But all thoughts of his best friend flit from him in the next second, because Benny lifts a hand to push aside Maran’s wrist from his hip, worms his hand along his torso. His fingers sweep over the small of his back, the touch briefly electrifying before the doorknob twists behind him and Maran stumbles back into the cabin.

“Only the cute ones,” Benny says. He takes slow, purposeful steps across the threshold. For a moment, he stands broad-shouldered against the brackish sky. Maran is staring again. He can feel it.

“Morbid.” He laughs nervously, tucking his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. He looks away when the coroner moves properly into the cabin, boots heavy on the paneled wood floor. He has to look away. Benny’s — not frightening, no. Maran thinks he’s a fine read of somebody, and the fact that Benji knows and tolerates him or more, the fact that he hasn’t yet tossed Maran overboard to steal the vessel? 

Means he’s decent, at the very least. So it isn’t fear that shivers up his spine in a creeping tickle, makes his palms feel moist enough to rub dry on his thighs, Operation game his heart off beat with a loud buzzing zap! — but it’s something close to fear. Maran doesn’t watch. Being unable to name that fear-adjacent thing has him nervous. Having a relative stranger set him off course as much as Benny has? Yeah, that’s something about that is too big, too strong, too strange for him to spare another thought towards. And Benny, for some reason, is too much for him to watch come forward.  

He isn’t sure why. 

Benny winks at him and scrunches two fingers together, showing Maran the barest amount of pace in between. Yeah, sure, morid. But only a little. Maran hasn’t got a single doubt in his mind that the man is capable of worse jokes. Has to be, in his line of business. Innsmouther, by choice or not; has to have some form of equilibrium on a ship. Coroner, by trade; has to cope with sick fucking jokes. He’d like to hear some of them, as long as they aren’t that nasty.

“Is this what you w-wanted to show me?” Benny asks. 

He brushes past Maran, whose eyes have flitted to a tomato soup stain he’d meant to clean off the ceiling months ago, and stands in front of the massive enclosure that eats up the whole east wall of the cabin. There used to be a little loveseat built into the wall there, but Maran had spent the first summer he’d bought the Life Insurance building the roomy living space for his first mate. Well — Maran had spent the whole summer watching Benji build Geico’s enclosure, more to the point. He was better at DIY, didn’t mind being in the stuffy interior for a bit of manual labor. Rather, he seemed to despise Marna’s whining about the heat only slightly more than he than he did experiencing it for himself.

“Who.” Maran clarifies, one finger raised. He bends at the waist to put himself down eye-level with Geico. The gecko is now properly poised in his usual spot, the heated rock in the corner. Maran’s drawn and taped a little top hat and cigar to the spot, so it looks as if he’s really relaxing when he rests there.

“What is he?” Benny leans down as well, hands tucked into his jacket. His shoulder brushes Maran’s, who tries very hard not to twitch. “Or she. They?” 

“Dunno if geckos have gender.” Maran says thoughtfully. Geico blinks one eye at a time, and Maran grins. “That’s what he is, by the way. Not an iguana, not a fuckin’ lizard. He’s a gecko.”

A single breath leaves the other man. It sounds suspiciously like a laugh, purposefully bisected in a breathy cleave that takes most of the noise. Maran wonders if Benny is self-conscious of his laugh, too. 

“I knew that. I mean what kind.”

Maran, delighted by the shared thread of interest, beams. “Satanic Leaf-Tailed.” 

His flannel’s sleeve gets caught in the jacket as he tosses it, yanking up the fabric. Ben, now seated at the kitchen table that Maran has also been meaning to clean up  and restain, makes a thoughtful noise. 

“Like those.”

Maran blinks at him owlishly from where he stands at the stove, chin tilted over his shoulder. Benny gestures with one finger at his own arm encased in a black sweater.

“Octopus.” He hesitates, expression pinching for the briefest second. “I mean, the s-s-sleeve, not just the octopus. The wh-whole thing is really good work.”

“Oh!” Maran says, running an absent-minded hand up his forearm. “Hah, sometimes I forget they’re there. Never wanted ‘em until — well, it’s more Benji’s speed, right? Tattoos. You know that. Anyway, his friend helped come up with a cool design, and I just…kinda went for it.”

Benny’s eyebrows raise. “That your only one?” 

Maran shakes his head and wanders back over to the table, slipping into the bolted-down boothseat across from him. He pushes the sleeve of his left arm up, bunching it tight around the elbow. It cuts the whole of the piece in half, but there’s enough action sketched into his forearm that the full spread of that sleeve is suggested.

“I think they look kind of funny,” Maran admits quietly. He hasn’t let that one slip to anybody but the twin in the mirror. “They stop right at the shoulder, and I just — I dunno. Need more or something to look...not like a poser.” He says that in Benji's tone. Then laughs and shakes his head. “Oof. Swear. In my head today, sorry.”

“No w-worries,” Benny responds quietly. He’s looking at the swirl of shapes on Maran’s skin when he says: “I like them. Besides that’s the kind of shit sailors do, right? Get m-massive, p-permanent tattoos? Makes you steer better.”

Maran grins, feeling suddenly shy. Thankfully, the kettle goes off at that moment. He retrieves it and goes about sorting decent amounts of instant coffee into the two mugs he’d set out. 

“M’not a sailor.”

Benny deliberates between the two outstretched ceramic mugs, and settles for the smaller of the two. A massive, fading visage of the donkey from Shrek has been printed on the side. He’s got an ear and and eye missing, the paint mostly chipped away from too many runs with the elements. 

“So, what are you?”

It’s a good question. It’s a question for which Maran feels, even on a fantastic day, that he lacks a proper answer for.

He shrugs. “Just a guy, I s’pose. Guy with a boat.” 

“Hm.” He peers silently at from the rim of his mug. Maran swears there’s a little smirk on his lips as they part for coffee. He taps the back of Maran’s hand, which is still for some reason stretched across the table into his space.

“Any more?” 

Maran shakes his head again, finding his tongue too thick in his mouth to answer verbally. Benny nods again thoughtfully, then puts the cup back down. The ship lurches suddenly to the side, a dull thunk resonating up from beneath. Maran shoots out to catch both of their mugs before they fly off the side. Maran has the mind to worry about the noise and possible damage for a second, but only barely, and — yeah, only for a second. He’s glued in place, both physically and mentally, by Ben’s icy, shrewd gaze. 

“I would really love,” Ben says as he reaches across the table, fingers lightly coasting up Maran's wrist. “To see the rest of these s-sometime.” His eyes flick up to Maran’s again, the brief reprieve from his deliberation about that tattoos cut short. 

“Yeah, sure,” Maran responds thinly. The air winds tight in chest, because long, pale fingers step up his forearm. He could swear the touch seems more exploratory than appreciative of the art, but that would be mad — 

Wouldn’t it? 

So many things about Innsmouth already felt mad, anyway.