#she smells like bamboo and cigarettes

[gendervapor14]

thinkin about her

[triccina]

The Photograph Part Two

The Sunday morning was pleasant. On the street, people could be seen walking towards the Church of Light. The wind blew like any other sunny autumn morning in Highwind, and the few clouds indicated a day without climatic twists.

In the smallest workshop in the neighborhood, the girl and her mother shared a common goal: to try to finish their academic tasks. Lua's homework was so boring, and the girl had just woken up, a perfect recipe for getting distracted by any noise or smell that entered the place. The woman, on the other hand, was about to light a cigarette, even knowing that it would teach her daughter a bad habit. Aimê resisted with all her might, but felt that without the right fuel, her new article would not be completed.

The builder observed the pair and prepared a cup of black coffee for the woman and a glass of milk for the girl. He served them and received smiles from both.

"Thanks, Max!" Aimê thanked. "Before I forget, I saw the mail arrive today. Can you check if my Atara professor sent me the files I asked for?" The man made a disdainful expression. "I'm making Bamboo Papaya with Egg-on-Top for dinner," concluded the woman with a friendly smile.

The builder's and the girl's eyes sparkled, already dreaming of the day's dinner.

Max went to the mailbox and took out the letters. Bills, guild messages, and some cheerful messages from friendly neighbors. The last letter in this stack made the builder's heart race! Addressed to him from Sandrock. He turned the letter, expecting to see the sender's name. And like a wind bringing good news, the name Howlett made the man smile.

His thought was interrupted by the commotion in the workshop; Aimê was in a fit of laughter while Lua, with a pencil above her upper lip, imitated Max's rival. Not even the man could withstand the comedic scene.

When he approached the two, everyone tried to stay serious.

"Look what arrived!" The man showed. The woman smiled, and Lua, without much restraint, replied.

"Oh, your ex-boyfriend from Sandrock!" Max looked at her with a gaze.

"We never had that kind of relationship..."

“Don't bother him, dear, he was anxious waiting for this letter." Lua looked at Max as if apologizing. The builder just messed up the girl's hair. "Let's open it now! It got me curious."

Without much interest, Lua took a leaf and started playing with Deimos, who walked around the workshop looking for food until he reached the small lake. She showed the leaf to him and took it out of his reach, starting to annoy the turtle.

Max opened the letter and began to read. Aimê hoped he would read it aloud. A bit embarrassed, he began,

"My dear friend,

How have you been? Things in Sandrock have changed gradually, unfortunately not for the better. As I said in the last letter, people are increasingly leaving the city, and that hasn't changed. Some hired builders from Email still remain, but I don't know for how long. Something that has changed for the better is our relationship with the Geeglers. The new president is a friendly and sociable creature. Larry agreed to make a deal to leave the city in peace; we are getting closer and closer to living in harmony with mutants, just as you said. Logan thanked you for his sixteenth birthday present; he says it will be useful and a great help on patrols. You never disappoint when it comes to knives and daggers. Don't let Hugo know, but I still prefer to use your dagger than the one he forged for me. I have another big news! I have another boy under my protection now, Haru. He lived in a village in the mountains, but Logan found him on one of his patrols, and we ended up helping him get home. But the village is going through difficulties, so I decided to keep the boy under my care in Sandrock; the family didn't seem to care much, which saddened me. The boy is very intelligent and kind; he will be a great man in the future. I'm sending a photo we took recently.

P.S.: I think your girl's birthday is approaching, wish her my congratulations and give her this amber earring; it will bring her good health.

Sincerely, Howlett."

"He's a very kind man," said Aimê enchanted by the hunter's affection for her daughter. "You should go back and never let him escape again!

“You know, Aimê, I'm one of the best builders of my generation, but I couldn't fix a broken heart," Max replied with a certain pain in his voice.

Aimê sympathized and fell silent. Lua paid attention to the conversation without saying anything, pretending not to care, but deep down, she shared Max's sadness. In her conclusion, love wasn't worth the effort because that's how the relationships around her seemed to be. Max and his mother were an example of how happiness quickly turned into unhappiness, leaving everyone hurt, except those who didn't care. This thought bothered her because it reminded her of her grandmother's words, but perhaps that was one of the few things the two agreed on.

The builder took the photo out of the letter, and his face changed to a soft and genuinely happy expression; he couldn't hold back the sincere smile. Howlett, who had started to show signs of age but still charming since the day they met. The new family member, Haru, a boy with blue hair and gentle eyes. And Logan, who was no longer a boy but began to show signs of maturity, yet still exuded the youthfulness of a teenager. Sheathed was the blade forged by Max. The builder was radiant.

Lua got up, leaving Deimos without the leaf he had been desperately trying to eat; he was losing his reptilian patience. The girl saw the photo and was surprised, as her last memory of Logan was the same as the photograph in the workshop.

"That yellow shirt is horrible," she said with all sincerity. Aimê laughed, surprised by the girl's reaction. "So he's becoming that kind of guy," she said in a lower tone, only Max heard. "But he still looks the same as always."

"People grow, but they're still themselves. I bet he'll say the same thing about you," Max replied.

"What are you talking about?"

"Let's take a picture to send to them too, come on!"

The girl made a disapproving face, while Aimê loved the idea. Max went to get the camera while the girl tried to escape, but her mother intimidated her with just a look, making Lua stay for the photo.

After everything was arranged, they positioned themselves to take the photo. Deimos wouldn't be left out. Aimê held him, but he was restless. Before the automatic shot, Lua tried to calm him, and the photo was taken a second before disaster struck. Deimos, in his opportunity for revenge, bit the girl's finger, who screamed in pain. He let her go immediately, as if he just wanted to teach her a lesson. He even let out a grunt, and Lua seemed to understand what he said, as if it sounded like a "served you right!"

"Sorry, I won't do it again," she replied whining.

3 days later in Sandrock.

The boy entered the house reading the sender of the letter; without questioning, he handed the paper to Howlett, who was having his traditional yakmel milk sitting in the armchair, while Logan set the table for breakfast.

"It arrived from Highwind," the boy said, sitting at the table.

"Thank you, Haru," replied the man. Reading the sender's name, he smiled a little and promptly opened the letter.

"Is it Max's reply?" Logan asked eagerly. Howlett nodded. Logan waited for his father to read the letter aloud.

"My dear Howlett and Logan,

I'm glad to hear the good news. I hope the truce can lead to a good relationship with the Geeglers. I'm also glad to hear about the newest family member. This boy couldn't be in better hands; be good to him and Haru, don't let these two take advantage of your goodwill. They are clumsy with household chores, but they are the best companions you could find. Logan, I'm glad you liked the present; I hope it serves you well in your time of need. I'm also glad to see how you've grown; I'm proud of the man you're becoming every day. I'm sure Howlett shares this feeling too. Lua is also surprised to see how you've changed. Ah, and don't let your pa carry this whole town on his shoulders. I'm sure he's getting more immersed in defending Sandrock and forgetting to take care of himself, so take good care of him, please, do it for me. Lua said she loved the present and thanked. She doesn't usually wear these feminine things, but as soon as I gave it to her, she put it on. And by her expression, only confirmed her words. Aimê was also grateful for remembering Lua's birthday and sent greetings. I sent a photo with the letter.

I miss you.

Sincerely, Maxwell."

Taking the photo out of the envelope, Howlett was confronted with the image of his old companion with the girl and the woman he welcomed into his workshop. His eyes were tired, but he still maintained his youthful and confident demeanor. The girl had a joyful expression, trying to appease the visibly irritated reptile. She wore the earring she had received. The young-looking woman didn't seem her age, but she had serenity, even with the surprised expression of holding the agitated reptile.

"He's without a hat," Logan said, looking directly at the turtle.

"Why would the turtle wear a hat?" Haru asked.

"Why not?" replied the teenager. The boy decided not to question it.

"He seems happy, doesn't he?" Howlett asked himself aloud.

"Pa?"

"It's nothing."

The teenager noticed the bitter tone in his father's voice but didn't question him further because he too had his own thoughts. Logan looked at the photo again, noticing the smiling girl. "It's good that now you have someone waiting for you at home," he thought while a smile escaped onto his face.

🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻

[yuk1-tsukumo]

what jujutsu kaisen characters smell like ✧･ﾟ: * [sfw]

a/n: hello! this is a part two, and i don't think i'll be adding anything else to it, so... this is it! part 1 is here <3 enjoy !!!!

w/c: 575

kento nanami

three words to describe nanami's cologne of choice: it's sophisticated, sexy & classic

probably something woody, musky or spicy, maybe even a hint of floral (?)

black pepper, sandalwood, bergamot, rose, cinnamon, african orange flower, cypress, cedar... that kind of thing

tom ford is a name that instantly came to mind

the other one i thought of was caron—they made the first-ever fragrance marketed for men, back in 1934

now that's what i call classic

what he goes for is definitely expensive as well, but he's willing to pay the price for a fragrance that's high quality but also tried, tested & true

satoru gojo

i feel like he has a few different colognes & he just chooses depending the occasion (?)

i can think of two scents for him

i don't want to say acqua di gio, because it's SO common, but.... something like that, for sure

he smells like the sea, in that wealthy italian man way i said yūji didn't

the other one that comes to mind is more what people expect of him

i'm talking about bleu de chanel, specifically

it has citrus notes, like acqua di gio, but it's woodier & spicier

he probably also uses way too much, every single time

rip to the poor souls who've ever had to sit next to him during flights

toji fushiguro

i really hate the term but "macho-man" is what came to mind

leather, spice, tobacco, wood, booze and musk

toji highkey smells like a dingy, gnarly, dark dive bar

but make it sexy

yuki tsukumo

being totally honest, yuki and perfume isn't that great of a combo

i mean, think about it for a moment! she travels by motorcycle, it probably doesn't even last on her

but for the sake of this post and my fantasy, let's ignore that

i actually think her scent of choice would be quite similar to what i headcanon toji's to be, so, something woody and/or leather-y

it's not nearly as harsh, though

her perfume (or cologne—i could totally see her buying a men's fragrance!) has oranges or some kind of citrus in it, too

overall, not the scent traditionally marketed and/or associated with women, but it's cool as hell and unique like her <3

oh! she also has the smell of motorcycle oil lingering around her, obviously

suguru geto

i feel like he prefers very earthy and green scents, but also a bit aquatic

a fragrance with ingredients such as moss, petrichor, fern, vetiver, fir, patchouli, and geosmin

he really does smell like earth or soil after it has rained

another scent that i associate with him is green tea

shoko ieiri

as a friend kindly pointed out, shoko most likely smells like rubbing alcohol and bleach

since she's a doctor

she would also smell like cigarette smoke, now that i think about it

but, as with yuki, i will pretend i don't know this (◡‿◡)

we know shoko isn't a frilly person at all and i think her perfume would reflect it

for some reason, i instantly thought of light blue from d&g

its bottle is minimalistic & the ingredients, i think, feel airy

(the notes are sicilian lemon, apple, cedar; bamboo, jasmine, white rose; amber and musk)

my friend thought of be delicious from dkny and honestly, yeah, i can see it!

(notes are cucumber, grapefruit, magnolia; green apple, flowers such as rose and lily; and woodsy notes, sandalwood and amber)

[imaeraser]

Playing With Foxfire Kin’emon x Reader (Modern AU) Ch 1

TW: power imbalance, cheating, and age gap

(2.1k words)

Kin’emon x reader x slight Sanji

Summary: You have a summer internship at the Kozuki company, and have to stay at Kin’emon’s home. You try to limit your attraction to the married man, but the flame of passion burns bright. And playing with fire can only lead to one thing— getting burnt.

AN: I originally did this for myself and my sister as a joke— since there is little to no fan fiction for Kin’emon— but decided to post it. Hopefully you enjoy and cringe at some parts.

I fumbled my way through the airport. The musk of others smudged onto my shoulders while I bumped down the path as if I were in a pinball machine. The sound of the wheels of my suitcase grounding me on Earth before all of my thoughts flew away.

   I raised my hand to shade my eyes as I stepped out into the open, while my foot jutted back from the force of the wind. I squinted down the road, but there was not an awaiting person in sight.

   I sighed, and sat down on a sun-warmed bench near a smoking man. As I grabbed the side rest, the tacky feeling of day-old gum made my arm jump in revulsion.

   “Ew, that’s so nasty,” I shook my arm as if the action would make the gum magically disappear, and then reluctantly started to pull it off with two fingers.

   “Here let me help you,” another set of arms entered my vision. The stranger pulled out a handkerchief and scraped any residue off of my arm jacket.

   “Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver,” I turned to him, and stopped mid-thought.

   His eye was staring at me intently, but I could only appear to focus on his swirly eyebrow— his singular swirly eyebrow.

   “I think being a life saver is a bit of an over-statement, but I’ll take it.��� He paused and tilted his head, yet the hair that covered one of his eyes did not budge. “Is there something wrong?”

   I paused, “No, it’s nothing. I’m just a bit air-headed sometimes.” I flushed as I rubbed the back on my neck.

   “Well, I think air-heads are cute,” he held out his hand, “Sanji.”

   “Y/N,” I said as I replied with a handshake.

   Once we retracted our arms he leaned over to his side, and proceeded to fill the atmosphere with the rottenly-sweet scent of tobacco. After a large puff, he released a light cloud into the air. The smoke got thinner and lighter as it floated up and died in the sky.

   “What brings you here Y/N?” Sanji held out an unused cigarette and raised an eyebrow.

   “I have an internship this summer,” I said as I shook my head and pushed the offering away.

   “Let me guess...” he paused, “ Kozuki?”

   “Yep,” I nodded. I threw another glance at the street, and the emptiness made my foot begin to tap the floor. “I think there was a guy that was supposed to pick me up.” I looked down at my phone- 4:57- a few more hours and I would no longer feel safe walking the streets alone.

   “If you want, I can drive you. Just give me the address and we’ll be on our way,” Sanji offered a handsome smile.

   My eyes quickly darted to his figure. He was tall and slender, but most of his form was hidden under a finely made suit. He shifted in his seat awaiting my answer, and the movement drew my attention to his abnormally built leg muscles. His demeanor was goofy, but I had only known him for a span of a few minutes.

   As much as I wanted to say yes, there were far too many episodes of true-crime documentaries watched for me to allow this stranger to drive me home.

   “No, I should be okay. I think I’ll wait a bit longer, and if he doesn’t show up I’ll call an Uber or something,” I said as I watched him lean back onto his seat.

   “Well, I’ll wait until you’re out of here safely. I can’t leave a lovely lady like yourself all alone,” Sanji smirked as he crossed his ankles.

   “Are you implying that I am incapable of handling myself?” I raised an eyebrow in  playful contention. He raised his hands as if to calm my rage.

   “Of course not, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” he said, as I leaned back into the bench.

   Time quickly passed, and before either of us knew it we were watching the sky’s rolling clouds pull back and reveal an assortment of summer-time colors. The falling sun lit up Sanji’s flaxseed hair—spinning each strand into a gold thread. Perhaps it was a mistake to decline his proposal.

   “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I said, glancing back at my phone.

   “I’m meant to be wherever you are, mademoiselle,” he placed a hand on his chest.

   I picked at my nails, and rolled a strand of my hair between my fingers, “Stop joking, you could do way better than me.” He gently clasped my hands.

   “You’re selling yourself short. From the time I have spent with you I can tell that you really are gorgeous,” he looked me dead in the eye. The intensity and suddenness of his icy-blue gaze made me look away.

   “I’ll take the compliment,” I said, before turning my eyes to the side. To my surprise I saw a man holding a sign with my name on it. “It’s about time,” I shook my head as I looked back over to Sanji. “Thanks for keeping me company, but the dude finally showed up. I have to get going.” I stood up, my knees clicking from being immobile for too long.

   After waving goodbye, I dragged my suitcase across the concrete to greet the man. The closer I walked to him, the taller his looming figure became. As we both stopped our pace, my eyes widened in distaste as I looked at him.

   His top-knot bobbed as he tilted his head, which provided a stark contrast to his worn out graphic tee that was half-way tucked into a pair of cargo shorts. He took a step towards me as he outstretched his hand, and I heard a resounding wooden thunk. My eyes trailed down to reveal a set of wooden clogs and knee-high socks.

   “I am deeply sorry for being late, I was just a bit busy.” He rubbed his neck with his other hand, which revealed a raspberry colored hickey. I bit the inside of my cheek, as I looked to the side in disbelief— trying not to stare at anything in particular. “Oh, you must be looking at my car. It is an antique—”

   “Y/N,” I hurriedly shook his hand. “I believe I am to stay at your house during the entirety of my internship at Kozuki?”

   His heavily lined eyes blinked a few times before he opened his mouth, “You are correct. I am Kin’emon. My wife and I will be hosting you for the few months you are to be staying.” There was a glint of light that flashed as he moved his hand—which was seen with a golden band around his ring finger.

   “Thank you very much for generously allowing me to stay in your home,” we began to walk to his car. “Oh I forgot, the email asked the interns to check the id of the person who is picking us up.” I paused before placing my hand on the sleek metal of the door handle.

   “Yes, thank you for reminding me,” he slipped his black leather wallet out of his pocket and fished for his id. Once he retrieved the card, he placed his driver’s license into my hand.

   I pulled out my phone, to look at the email telling us about our host. After comparing the information, I handed Kin’emon his drivers license back. “Okay, let’s go.” I said as I slid onto the creme colored leather of the backseat.

   My fist supported my head as I watched the scenery meld together through the window. The sky quickly turned darker. My breath formed a little patch of condensation— due to the late hour and dropping temperatures.

   The car ride was quiet, with the exception of some traditional Japanese instrumentals. But before either of us would try and fill the silence with awkward questioning, we arrived at his house.

   I stepped out of the car, and heard the sound of the trunk opening as well as plastic wheels hitting the ground. While handing me my suitcase handle, his calloused hands brushed against mine. I whispered a quiet, thank you, before following him up to his home.

   He opened the frosted glass door, which revealed a quaint home who’s floor was covered in what I perceived as bamboo mats. We both entered the house, and the scent of fried bread crumbs as well as curry swirled around us. I caught myself nearly drooling down my chin.

   The sound of pots, pans, and utensils cluttering stopped as a woman in an apron stepped out of the kitchen. “Welcome home dear,” she said before turning to me. “You must be the intern. My name is O-tsuru, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” She dusted her flour covered hands on her jeans before offering me a handshake.

   I gave a soft smile as I shook her hand, “I’m Y/N, it’s lovely to meet you as well.” O-tsuru gently grabbed Kin’emon’s hand and led him to the kitchen.

   “Food is almost finished, we would be delighted if you decided to eat with us,” her voice echoed from the kitchen.

   I looked down at my half eaten sandwich from the airport Subway. The bread was chewy like a warm kneaded eraser, and the vegetables had an almost plastic sheen to them. “I would love to eat whatever smells that delicious,” I peeled off my shoes and set them near the door.

   O-tsuru’s head popped out from the kitchen, “Just sit for a bit, and we’ll be out with food in a second.” Following her instructions, I pushed the floor sitting chair out so I could sit on my knees.

   There were no legs to the chair, but seeing as the table was so close to the ground it did not present a problem. My eyes scanned the area of the house that was visible. There were sliding doors and paintings with Japanese characters drawn in sumi ink. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see something reflect the light of the overhead fan.

   I turned to my side and saw two katana’s on display, both identical in looks. Black lacquered wood, with the image of fire painted down the middle. It looked too gaudy for it to be used as a weapon. As I glanced over the other decorations in the house, I decided to place the swords in the same category.

   “Today we are going to be eating Tonkatsu Curry,” O-tusru said, as she clattered plates about to organize the table. I reached out to help her, but she swatted my hands away playfully. “You’re our guest, I can’t put you to work so soon,” she chuckled. I placed my hands back onto my lap, and waited.

   Soon enough Kin’emon brought out the food, and the scent of curry wafted over  from the pot. There was a plate set down that was full of pork chops covered in fried bread crumbs. O-tsuru set down a glass bowl full of lettuce— you could see droplets of water on the leaves.

   “So we have some Tonkatsu here, but if you can’t eat that we also have nato,” O-tsuru sat across from me.

   “What’s nato?” I looked at my bowl of rice, and sniffed it.  

   “It’s fermented beans,” Kin’emon took his seat next to his wife. “And if you’re allergic to anything here just let us know, I’m sure we can find something in the kitchen that suits your needs.”

   As we dug in, the flavors exploded in my mouth creating a lovely blend. The dinner was mostly quiet, with the exception of some basic questions to fill up the time.

   “I’ll let Kin’emon show you to your room. I have to wash some dishes,” O-tsuru grabbed a few plates as she stood up.

   While the sound of water and the clanging of dishes ensued, Kin’emon stood up, and walked over to my luggage. The slight crispy nosies of the mats under my feet amused me.

   “So...are the floor mats made out of bamboo?” I said.

   “They are made out of rice straw, they’re called Tatami mats,” he walked down the hallway, and placed his hand on the door, and cracked it open slightly. “This is where your room is, you can call either of us if you need anything.”

   I watched his silhouette as he turned around to meet back with his wife. Although he dressed like a patchwork dad and samurai, it looked as if he could still be a model for Calvin Klein. As he walked away, his muscles rippled under his skin. His arms were also well defined, but as my eye caught his ring I stopped

[joyfulpolicehologram]

Protocal 19

TRIGGER WARNING: TORURE AND ABUSE

Chapter 2

Adler didn't know how long he'd been in that hole. Days? Weeks? Or months? It all seemed to blur.

Along with the near daily ass-kicking he received, and the "shit on a plate" they forced him to eat, the cramped grave they'd thrown him into flooded every time it rained.

These assholes loved their torture. They'd tossed a fucking snake in with him on the very first day, actually gambling who would kill whom first. One bastard even tried to scalp him until the boss walked by and started yelling in a language he barely understood, what he could sound like death... and money, probably telling them that if they killed him, they wouldn't get paid. They tied him by the wrists and played pinata with his back and legs. Then by the time they said 'he needed a bath' and stripped him, locked him in a bamboo cage, and repeatedly plunged him into the icy water below.

The only keeping the sliver of sanity he still had was... Bell. He thought about her more and more, the way she always tied her long thick auburn hair in a librarian's bun whenever she was concentrating, the way her aqua eyes sparkled when she laughed, that way she danced and sang along to Sims' bootleg Creedence Clearwater Revival records. He smiled as he remembered the time she made borscht. It was almost as if he could still smell it.

-------‐-----‐-----------------------------------

"Solovetsky... Solovetsky... Solovetsky." The voice whispered all around her.

"They are lying to you... lying to you... lying... lying." It echoed down the long white tiled corridor.

She passed photos of people, some framed, others pinned to what looked like a giant cork board. Some she recognized, others not so much. She passed by maps, stacks of papers, computer monitors, and filing cabinets. She turned a corner and the walls that were once white tiled had turned to cold concrete block. To one side was a large and heavy looking garage door, to the other was a table with three stools pushed securely under it. A lit cigarette burned in the ashtray beside a stack of files. Azoulay, Eleazar, read the tab on one, Sims, Lawrence on another, Hudson, Jason on another. There were other names, Mason, Woods, Adler, Park, and BELL. The sight of that folder made her pause. It wasn't like the others. The others were plain yellow office folders, this one was blue and had a hand print smeared across it. The word CONFIDENTAL printed in Russian caught her attention... Wait, how did she know Russian?

[agapaic]

[19 days] sin city

this drabble is a gift to one of my dearest and biggest supporters, @geoviki​, who requested a bonus ‘second kiss’ continuation scene between he tian and guan shan in the ‘sweet tooth’ universe (a crazy rich asians-inspired fic), and i sincerely hope you enjoy it, viki! all my love, xxx

Guan Shan hasn’t set foot in God’s house since he was a kid. His mother goes every weekend when she doesn’t have a double shift, but he can’t bring himself to go with her. Too busy, too cynical. He knows he can’t struggle with his faith when he’s lost it; he doesn’t know if he ever found it. He knows without a doubt that he sins.

As it is, he isn’t burnt in the service, isn’t poisoned by the communion. He thinks that if anyone were to be dealt retribution then he wouldn’t be first in line. Singapore’s elite have bigger, dustier skeletons in their closets than Guan Shan, half-disintegrated with age.

He tells himself this through the readings and prayers and hymns he’s forgotten the words to, glances routinely through the stained-glass windows for a glimpse of an outside reality he can’t see. He can hear it: the rush of mid-morning traffic beyond the grassy verges of the church, neatly protected from the central business district by iron fencing and a half-acre of flower beds and rain trees.

Beneath the lip of the pew, where copies of the testaments, old and new, have been neatly placed and the firm, embroidered hassocks hang off metal hooks, He Tian squeezes Guan Shan’s hand.

‘Nearly done,’ he murmurs, while Father Joshua delivers his sermon on godliness in children and parental obedience.

Guan Shan's gaze slides to his. It’s one of the only things He Tian’s said the whole service.

‘You believe all this?’ he asks, whispering.

‘They do,’ He Tian replies, his lips barely moving.

Fans move lazily above them from the high steepled ceiling, their chains rattling over the din of the priest’s solemn tone. They don’t offer much: the inside of the church is still sticky with heat, and members of the congregation attempt to cool themselves with the service pamphlets or paperback copies of the Bible with broken spines and annotations in the margins.

From the seat in front of them, Guan Shan watches a bead of sweat slide down a woman’s neck, dampness collecting at the high laced collar of her Chanel dress. She has her own bamboo fan, painted with pretty avian sketches.

Guan Shan pulls his gaze away. ‘Which godly child are you?’ he asks He Tian quietly. ‘Absolom or Samuel?’

He Tian tries to hide a grin. ‘Destroyer of kingdoms or a monk?’ he questions, angling his head as if looking behind him. His breath is cool at Guan Shan’s ear. Guan Shan lets him lean close, breathing in sandalwood and khus oil. ‘Are those my only choices?’

Guan Shan sets his eyes forward. ‘Nothin’ else seems to be acceptable.’

‘Yes—they’re a stern lot.’

‘They should put their money where their mouth is.’

He Tian snorts quietly. He releases Guan Shan’s hand, and Guan Shan says nothing when his hand moves instead to rest innocently atop Guan Shan’s thigh.

‘He Tian…’ he starts to warn.

He Tian keeps his expression plain. ‘I told you if you came I’d make it worth your while.’

‘That’s not—’ Guan Shan bats his hand away. The gesture elicits a harsh smacking sound, and a few heads turn. Guan Shan presses his lips into a hard line. When eventually their attention shifts away again, Guan Shan hisses, ‘I’m not doin’ that.’

‘I thought you didn’t care much for His wrath,’ He Tian says, pointing discreetly upwards.

‘That’s got nothin’ to do with…’ Guan Shan breaks off. He Tian’s eyes are glittering. He’s joking with him. Guan Shan clenches his jaw. Murmuring, he says: ‘You shouldn’t mess with people like that.’

‘But you make it so much fun,’ He Tian whispers.

Guan Shan glares at him. He endures the rest of the sermon in stoic silence. Absolom, he thinks. He Tian, the destroyer of kingdoms��and young men’s hearts.

///

They linger outside after the sermon. The air is thick and charged with the aftermath of a morning thunderstorm, the ground wet with rain and the smell of petrichor. Guan Shan breathes in deeply, stepping back while He Tian greets strangers and allows middle-aged women to offer both cheeks for him to kiss, their husbands noticeably absent. They run their eyes over Guan Shan and the suit he’s going to make He Tian return by the end of the day, and He Tian politely evades their desire for introductions.

He knows everyone, Guan Shan realises, but it doesn’t surprise him. He’s seen the He family work a crowd at a party or a charity function. The lingering congregation of a Sunday mass is only another opportunity to schmooze and gossip.

‘Just another five minutes,’ He Tian murmurs at Guan Shan’s ear. ‘My father will have my hide if I don’t show my face for a decent length of time.’

‘How long’s that? By his standards?’

‘He’d have me go to brunch with someone’s mother and their daughter if he had his way.’

Guan Shan fingernails bite into his palms. The thought of He Tian being palmed off to some socialite’s offspring makes him bitter with jealousy. He’s seen He Tian only a few times since the charity function at the She estate, communicated with him mostly in veiled text messages and late night calls.

It’s been weeks since they’d shared the feeling of each other’s lips in a quiet room at the She mansion, weeks since they’d shared kueh with their legs dangling over the edge of a jetty across from Sentosa island. Most nights, Guan Shan still tastes both on his lips.

He’s got little stake to claim over the young heir of the He fortune, but he can’t help himself. He goes where He Tian asks him to, wears the suits He Tian buys him. Fuck, he’s started smoking his brand of cigarettes, too. And if He Tian wants to take him to church one Sunday morning so he has better company than a band of middle-aged women wanting him for themselves more than their daughters… Who is Guan Shan to say no after the first three times?

‘What are you thinking?’

Guan Shan blinks. Another church-goer has come and gone, and they’re alone. He Tian is watching him closely.

‘I want a cigarette,’ Guan Shan says. Technically, it’s not a lie.

He Tian snorts. ‘In the courtyard of our Lady of the Veil? Blasphemy, Mo Guan Shan.’

Guan Shan shrugs. He remembers their exchange at the threshold of the church, where two children no more than ten stood with a coin bowl held out, covered in pool-table green cloth and more cash than Guan Shan earns from a month’s tips.

‘I’m not a Catholic,’ he’d told He Tian, feeling strangely compelled to tell him with an even stranger degree of anxiety about the fact, as if it were a make-or-break moment for something they had that could neither be made nor broken.

He Tian had snorted then, too. ‘Don’t worry,’ he’d said, stepping through the doors, palming the children a few bills to line their pockets. ‘Neither am I.’

Now, Guan Shan watches as He Tian reaches into the lining of his suit jacket and pulls out a carton of cigarettes from the pocket. It’s too warm to stand outside in their Sunday best for long, and He Tian tugs Guan Shan over beneath the shade of an Indian-almond tree, its boughs offering some cool relief to a small section of the church courtyard.

Guan Shan watches He Tian light a cigarette between his lips, the flame close to his fingers. It catches; there’s a cherry red glow. Smoke blooms between them, and then He Tian plucks the cigarette from his lips and holds it out as if it’s a newly picked flower.

‘Here,’ he says. A moment passes, where Guan Shan doesn’t take it. ‘I thought you wanted it.’

‘I do, I just—’ Guan Shan can feel his cheeks starting to redden. He swallows. His throat has gone dry. He can hear the voices of men and women standing before the church. He knows some of them are watching, wondering, eager to know who his family is and where he’s come from and how he has captured He Tian’s attention with such painful, singular attentiveness.

‘You’re not—’ He Tian breaks off with a laugh. ‘You’re not worried that I’ve touched it, are you?’

Guan Shan looks away, and He Tian’s eyes widen.

‘Oh,’ he says. His smile grows wider. ‘Mo Guan Shan,’ he croons. ‘I didn’t know you were such a puritan. How proud He’d be.’

‘Shut up,’ Guan Shan mutters.

He Tian’s stance shifts, intrigued. ‘If I’d known it took an indirect kiss to make you blush, Man Upstairs be damned, I’d have put my mouth elsewhere a long time ago.’

‘Shut up.’

He Tian’s laughter is deep as he takes a drag of his cigarette. Some of the women are frowning at him. The hot breeze carries the smoke in their direction, and they waft it away with their fans and paper service pamphlets, rouged mouths pursing tightly. He smiles at them, all affable apologies, and they can’t begrudge him long.

‘They want you to fuck them,’ Guan Shan mutters.

He Tian’s eyes flick to his, and his smile grows indulgent. ‘I know,’ he says.

‘You’re not gonna do anythin’ about it?’

‘Like what?’

Guan Shan grits his teeth. ‘Like—tell them to fuck off?’

He Tian snorts. ‘They’re old friends of the family. And you forget they haven’t made me an offer, sweetheart.’

‘And if they did?’

He Tian considers him carefully. His playfulness begins to fade. ‘You’re jealous,’ he says. ‘Of them?’

‘They’d divorce their investment husbands if they knew they had a chance with you.’

He Tian taps cigarette ash to the ground. He looks away, squinting at the skyline, considering something, before taking a step forward.

‘Firstly,’ says He Tian, his voice low, ‘if they had a chance with me they’d know it. Secondly, there’d be no divorce or marriage to a man twenty years their junior because their reputations wouldn’t survive the scandal. And thirdly: what the fuck would I want with them when I have the prospect of a whole indirect kiss with you?’

Guan Shan glares at him. ‘Gimme that,’ he says, snatching the cigarette from He Tian’s fingers before putting it to his lips. He nearly chokes on the inhale, eyes watering, and smoke seeps from the corners of his mouth before he can control it the way he wants it to. There’s nothing attractive about it, but he catches He Tian watching him with an indulgent smile.

‘It’s been five minutes,’ He Tian says, taking a glance at his watch. ‘We can go now. I promised to buy you brunch. You’re still happy with Orchard Road?’

‘I’m not finished,’ Guan Shan says.

He Tian’s brows lift. ‘You can’t smoke and walk?’

‘I didn’t mean that.’

He Tian tilts his head. ‘Oh?’

‘I meant—it’s not really fair, is it? It’s always—always you kissin’ me, and shit.’

‘Always?’

‘Yeah, with the—distractin’ the guards at She Li’s house and with—’ He makes a vague gesture. ‘—the cigarette and—’

‘Guan Shan—’

‘—it’s only fair that I get to prove my own fuckin’ point too—’

‘Mo Guan Shan—’

‘So will you just shut up and let me kiss you?’

He Tian stares at him.

Then he swallows.

‘If you really want to,’ he starts, ‘I suppose I’m in no position to—mmphh!’

It isn’t tender or soft, and Guan Shan is vaguely aware of the cigarette burning to ash between his fingers. He lets it fall, hopes he’s ground it out beneath his foot properly and remembers to pick it up after or risk a fine, but first: this. His fingers tightly locked in the dark strands of He Tian’s hair; He Tian’s lips bruising against his own, the sharp gasps of the women loitering by the church doors.

It’s exactly as he remembers from last time. A crushing pressure, the sense of being caught unawares. No finesse. Guan Shan knows it could be slower, that they could take their time, a pilgrimage of vulnerability and one body learning another, but something possessive in him has taken over—this is a crusade.

He Tian’s answering kiss twists into a grin against Guan Shan’s mouth. Guan Shan swallows He Tian’s amusement down, finds the feel of He Tian’s smile against his lips unfairly alluring. He does his best to try and rid He Tian of it, crowding close until He Tian’s back hits the trunk of the almond tree and He Tian is groaning beneath the pressure of his lips. He tastes the acrid smoke of their shared cigarette and He Tian’s breath mints, feels the humid beat of the mid-morning sun—and He Tian’s hand pressing gently at his chest.

He pulls away, staggering and breathing hard. With satisfaction, he notes that He Tian is, too.

‘I think we’re even now,’ says He Tian, a slight rasp to his voice. His eyes are bright and he runs his thumbnail over his lower lip, which has gone swollen and red. ‘You’ve suitably convinced your audience.’

Guan Shan looks away. ‘Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.’

‘Oh?’ He Tian asks, amused. ‘That wasn’t you staking your claim?’

Guan Shan hesitates. Part of him can’t bear to look behind him. ‘Are you gonna be excommunicated?’

He Tian chuckles. ‘I’m sure I can find my way back in. Father Joshua is particularly fond of He Cheng’s hideously curvaceous Bugatti.’

‘Guess that’s somethin’,’ Guan Shan mutters.

In answer, He Tian sweeps a hand through the loose strands of Guan Shan’s red hair that have slipped down across his forehead. The touch is fond and familiar and makes Guan Shan swallow hard.

‘You know,’ says He Tian. ‘You can do that any time you want. Not just to prove a point.’

‘You haven’t,’ says Guan Shan, an accusation.

‘I didn’t want to scare you off. I realise last time I was a bit—’

‘Forceful?’

‘Abrupt,’ He Tian corrects delicately. ‘But still��I don’t want you to think you’re any less mine.’

Guan Shan looks at him. ‘Thought you couldn’t have anythin’ you wanted.’

‘Ah…’ He Tian drops his hand, leans back on the heels of his Louis Vitto’s. Almost boyishly, he says, ‘I thought it was a done deal. You and me.’

Guan Shan neither confirms or denies. Instead he asks, ‘Who’d you trade with to get that impression?’

He Tian nods his head upwards. ‘Did it work? I sold my soul for it. ’

‘And they still let you in?’

He Tian’s look is sinful. ‘They let the worst of us through.’

Guan Shan rolls his eyes. He wets his lips. ‘Well,’ he says. ‘I think you’re on a decent road to redemption.’

‘Is that your way of saying it was a worthwhile bargain?’ Tell me it worked.

‘Is that your way of askin’ if I’m yours?’ Guan Shan asks. All these riddles and metaphors—sometimes he has to bring them back to the ground, make sure they’re on the same page.

‘I—Yes.’

Guan Shan nods, then jerks his chin in a challenge. ‘Make me believe it and I might be.’

He Tian’s eyes flicker towards the church just for a moment, but then he smirks, reaffirming their closeness with one step. ‘Mo Guan Shan,’ he murmurs, angling his head down, ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

[wood-warder]

♡ : Is there a certain scent that brings about nostalgia? If so, describe a memory this scent brings back. εжз : What about nature do they find calming? What about nature do they find disagreeable?

♡ : Is there a certain scent that brings about nostalgia? If so, describe a memory this scent brings back.

Rain. She dislikes being out in it but the smell of it, especially if she is out on the field and away from the city-states, never fails to make her think of Rabanastre. It was just as intolerable then but if she was lucky, she'd have an excuse to huddle under something with Aja and a pack of cigarettes.

εжз : What about nature do they find calming? What about nature do they find disagreeable?

Unsurprisingly perhaps, she finds greenery in its many shapes and forms to be the most appealing. Not much of a green thumb but she enjoys fussing about the garden outside the buny house, and there's a bamboo grove in the neighborhood that makes for a nice place to take a moment. Even the Steppe, wide and endless, has its charm. The way the grass moves and the way it speaks, even, in a tongue distinct from Hers is something Pjel enjoys a great deal.

She's less fond of weather, particularly the kind that comes with precipitation. Temperature she can adjust to (to an extent), but if she has to travel in the rain then there's likely not much she can do to keep herself from being soaked and miserable. Undecided as to whether or not she likes snow better than rain.

[majorweeb]

The Vacation

Lucy was tired, after being gone all the time off doing requests she needed a much-needed break.

Always being around Natsu is hard and after Gray and Juvia broke up, uh it had driven her crazy.

Apparently, Juvia was unhappy with their bedroom relations. She needed more and he couldn't keep it up unless he was drunk. It broke them down. Which in turn upset Lucy because he would go with Natsu, Happy, and her on missions.

Lucy loved Gray and enjoyed his companionship, so it didn't really matter one way or another. Yet, being labeled a homewrecker was annoying. Even if only Juvia believed it.

Lucy was done, not this month. She had saved up enough Jewels to go to the beach. She had found the perfect little house with its own private area where she and Plue could be free from the chaos that was the guildhall.

She loved everyone but even Levy thought it would be best. In fact, it was her family's home she was renting.

She yawned and stretched knowing that today she was finally able to leave and have some space.

"Ugh, I'm so glad I packed up last night! This is going to be great 4 full weeks of fun and freedom!" She said as she stretched in her pink bed. A small white cutoff tank barely covering her breasts.

Yawn escaping her lips as she rose stretching deeper, navy blue boy shorts riding up her ass as she bent over.

"Oi Lucy, still not up yet huh? Those are new, like the way they ride up..." Natsu started to say as Lucy decided to kick him in the face.

"Lucy Kick"! she screamed wondering why in the hell he couldn't use that damn door to come over.

Covering up and walking to the bathroom to get dressed for the day she huffed.

"Get out Natsu, I have shit to do and I don't need to be harassed at the moment. Can't, you ever knock?" Slamming the bathroom door in his face.

"But Lushi, Happy left me high and dry. Some stupid exceed thing and him, Charlie, and Pantherlily all left last night. I'm lonely. Can't I stay and snuggle with you?" Natsu whined from her bed stretched out and looking his best.

Years they'd been traveling together and he wanted nothing more to just bend her over and have his way. But she deserved more than the thoughts that ran through his brain as he fisted himself on lonely nights.

Lucy exited the bathroom in a low-waisted pair of painted-on skin-tight jeans, hair pulled back into a high ponytail, and a navy blue tight button-up sleeveless blouse. Oh, and Natsu was ever so pleased with his large baggy pants. Groaning at the thought of those panties from earlier being too high for her to be wearing them under those pants. Oh shit, was she wearing a bra?

He watched her as she roamed her room gathering her keys and placing them on her hip. Putting toiletries and such into a duffle.

He was about to ask her what was going on, she said that she was taking a break. Why was she packing? That's when there was a knock at her door. He could smell him before he announced himself. Gray that asshat, always getting in the damn way.

"Hey, Gray, what's up?" eyes full of joy as she smiled at him when he let himself in.

"Hey, Lucy, where ya going? I came by to see you and wanted to know what you were doing later. But I see you are packing."

"Hey Ice Princess! What are you doing here? Hiding?" Natsu said with an air of sarcasm that was obvious.

"No, she left had shit to do with Gajeel! But who fucking cares." Throwing himself onto Lucy's couch.

" Listen I love you both, and so enjoy listening to you girls banter over who is prettier. I am very much in a hurry and have to catch a train. So if you don't mind. GET OUT!"

"Where ya going, Luce? I wanted to spend time with you? Can I come too? It'll be fun, just us like old times. Please!!" Fake tears welling into Natsu's eyes as he pleaded with her to know what she was doing for the next few weeks.

"Well if you must know I rented a house out in Akane Beach, ya know Levys beach property. I have the next four weeks of sun, sand, ocean, and a whole city to explore." She seemed excited and dreamy.

The next thing she knew she has boarded a train with both Gray across from her and Natsu with his nose buried deep in her lap. She swore he loved this more than anything and it always made her a little excited knowing her scent calmed him. She grew stiff wondering what scent calmed him. He huffed and she went back to carding her finger through his hair. Yet, why the in hell are they coming along. Didn't they have better things to do?

She ignored the situation and decided to nap on the 2-hour train ride. Fingers combing through the soft tendrils of Natsu's hair. Whether she wanted to admit it or not the attention of two of the hottest ( in her opinion) guys in all of Fairy Tail, hell all of Magnolia wanted to tag along. Who was she to say no?

She awoke to the soft tapping on her shoulder a while later knowing that it was Gray informing her that they had arrived.

Luggage gathered and all of them together walked to the beach house. She picked a room out of the 5 and unpacked listening to the other 2 bickered about Mavis knows what and she just ignored it.

After all, was settled she wanted food. Not fast food or restaurant food, home-cooked food.  She grabbed her keys and released Virgo informing her of her duties while she was off shopping.

"Yes Master, will you punish me if I don't do it properly?" Virgo stated as she bowed low in her skimpy french maid's uniform.

"No, just I wanna cook but need all of this out and ready so it's easier. I won't have to look for what I need this way. " Quickly changing into something cooler.

When Lucy walked out of her appointed room in her tiny black shorts and white bikini Natsu almost busted a nut right then and there on the couch. Gray was no better, having lost his cigarette somewhere on the porch and quickly spreading ice over it to stop and prevent a fire. Overdoing it all the way to the waves.

"I'll be back getting groceries, if you need anything go and do it on your own. I'll just be an hour or so." She put a small white poncho over top and slipped on her sandals and made her way out.

"Hey Ice dick, nice cover-up! If I didn't know any better you just shot your damn load all over the fucking yard." laughing as he stretched out over the couch closing his eyes.

"Like your any better, that burn mark where your hands were arent any better. Fucking Flame brain!" putting out his smoke and coming inside.

" If I have to be here with you, I need liquor, and soon, let's go and keep your tiny firebreathing dragon in your pants huh."

When Lucy got home they were both gone and it was nice to have some quiet as she worked. She had released Virgo when she returned and quickly called upon Loke. He was a little naughty but he sure could cook.

He left with a bow when dinner was almost done and she was happy to see him for that short time.

While plating dinner the door busted open and in came Natsu and Gray, shitfaced and laughing. She could deal with them happily, this would be cake.

"Hey Luce, is that dinner. So hungry, want food then you! GRRRR!" Natsu growled as he sat at the table.

Lucy was shocked he had never spoken to her that way before and was way out of character, even when he had had a few.

Gray just sat across from him, smile plastered to his face sitting in just his boxer briefs. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a sizable tent in Grays briefs. Assuming it must have been just the alcohol she continued serving.

"Of course, not a single day without some fun huh guys." Smacking her forehead at the both of them. Natsu being a dumb ass and Gray almost naked.

"Hey Lucy, we brought home drinks you wanted to relax, let's eat and have fun. Chat, get to know each other better." Slamming the large bottle of Jager on the table.

She didn't know what to say or think, but a drink or two would get them to calm down and maybe give her the evening alone as they slept it off. Maybe she could write a little as she planned, or a nite swim was nice.

Dinner went off nicely, she made lamb chops with rosemary and garlic, sided with cauliflower Au Gratin and asparagus.

They all decided to start drinking and her goal was a few drinks and shove them off to sleep. Yet, that was far from her evening plans! This night was a night to remember.

After the first bottle was done and they were a giggling mess on the back deck, she had summoned who she had hoped would be Loke. Someone with willpower to calm them all down, as they were begging for more alcohol.

That is not who she summoned at all, in fact, Virgo was all for her master being shitfaced. She got more alcohol and learned if Lucy was dared she would be punished and have her ass bit. She enjoyed this Lucy more. She released herself with a moan.

Lucy leaned over both the boys and whispered, " Wanna hear a secret?"

Both sat up straight and made sure to listen so carefully, excited to hear what the blonde had to say.

"I've always wanted to see you two kiss! Please be nice to me, I'm a good girl right. I wanna see tongue."

Gray just shrugged his shoulders and leaned over, placing his lips onto Natsu. He was expecting it to be quick and make Lucy happy, little did he know that the warmth of his lips sent a shock right to his groin. It didn't help that Natsu moaned and grabbed the back of his neck in the process licking his lips begging for entry.

Lucy removed herself from their lap and watched in amazement as the kiss became more and more heated.

Hands groping, tongues lashing. The next thing she knew Gray was on top of Natsu caging him in and not allowing him to retreat from the small loveseat made of bamboo.

Natsu thrust his hips forward and ground against Gray in a way to relieve the pressure of his growing problem,  moaning and panting between licks, bites, and kisses.

Lucy moaned out loud catching the attention of the 2 men who seemed to have lost all thought and cared less about where they were.

"Lushie, are you jealous? Or is that smell out of lust?" Natsu said as he sniffed the air in her direction. The prominent tent in his pants growing by the second.

Gray removed himself from above Natsu and picked Lucy up threw her over his shoulder and carried her into the house. Groping her ass in the process. Natsu followed.

Walking into the room she had picked which seemed to have the largest bed know to all Fiore, he tossed her on it. Natsu coming behind Gray rubbing up against him making the man moan as he felt his friend's cock press roughly against his ass.

He leaned his head against his shoulder feeling the warm hands of Natsu roam his alcohol-riddled body and shuddered.

"Lucy, I want you to take off your clothes, I want to watch you go crazy as you watch us. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you be good and not touch yourself as I touch Gray.

She nodded enthusiastically as her shorts and bikini top were removed. Whimpering as she removed the small patch of fabric covering her leaking wet pussy.

Natsu had started stroking off Gray through his briefs as they both watched Lucy wiggle and squirm. The smell of her arousal thick in the air as their clothes were removed between petting and touching. Natsu got down on his knees and licked the underside of Grays cock. Feeling it's girth lay on his tongue. Gray got on the bed first, just to her right feeling the softness of the cotton under his fingers, using his ice magic to create a pair of cuffs for her on the bed. Pinning her down and spreading her out.

Natsu came up on her left, warming his hands so that the touch of his fingers was like a shock to her entire body.

"Please, oh Mavis someone touch me already. Together,  separate, I don't care. I've needed and wanted this for so long. I'm begging you!" moaning loudly as each of them worked their way up her body. Kissing each other along the way. She could feel their precum dripping on her thighs as they groped, licked, and flicked different parts of her body.

She was overwhelmed, the icy feel of Gray with the burning touch of Natsu drove her insane. Screaming as her first orgasm ripped through her.

"Good girl, what would you like next?" Gray whispered in her ear causing the warmth to pool between her legs once again.

Seeing Natsu lick the slick of her orgasm off his fingers was too much, she held back a moan as her body became hotter and hotter and not form touch.

Both of them slowly started sending an icy burning trail down her body. Cupping her and teasing her until she thrashed against the icy cuffs.

They took turns rubbing her clit, while the other entered her giving her the feeling of both of their magic. Showing her that it wasn't just for fighting.

" I need you in me please!!" She begged

Gray removed her cuffs and they let her relax for a moment, she watched in awe as she watched them both on their knees kissing again. As they kneeled over her their cocks touched and she leaned forward and licked them simultaneously. Wrapping her hands around them both stroking them as they made out.

They stopped and the look in their eyes had her building again, she had heard about sex, but never anything like this.

They looked back at each other when out of nowhere Gray said, " Bottom!"

She had assumed he meat to take from Natsu but boy was she wrong.

Natsu gathered her up in his arms and made her wrap her legs tightly around his waist. Felling his hot cock bob against her thighs, feeling its warmth against her clit and begging to enter her.

She looked over at Gray laying on his back lubing up his own cock, back against the headboard, soft moans escaping his lips.

"Go to him, he's waiting!" Natsu whispered in her ear causing her to shiver with excitement. she crawled over to Gray, ass in the air in hopes to entice Natsu. Entice she did, except she wasn't expecting a hot tongue licking a wet hot streak from clit to ass. Making her jello in their arms.

"Please, need more." breathy moans and lust addled mind saying all she could.

"Turn around, let me help you."

She obeyed and she was then pulled back into Grays's arms. His chest against her back, his cock throbbing against the cleft of her ass, his hands playing with her nipples, rolling them around between his finger and thumb. Keeping his hands icy and causing her to twitch with anticipation.

He then pulled her up so that his cock was pressed against her dripping wet pussy, lips throbbing, eyes heavy and full of lust. Until Natsu got on his hands and knees and crawled across the bed in-between her legs.

Shoving the ice-cold cock down his throat, enjoying the moans from Gray as his heated breath and mouth covered him completely.

"Fuck Natsu, so good, so warm yes!" Gray moaned thrusting his hips as her body gushed from the site and the feelings.

" Nice choice on taste Ice Prick!" Natsu smirked moving Grays cock aside and he began to loosen Lucy up, licking her clit as his fingers toyed with her tight little asshole.

She screamed and relaxed around the digits and more and more entered her. Scissoring her open, making her body ready for Gray.

Before she knew it she was being ripped open as Gray started moving his cock deeper and deeper into her ass. Saying calming words into her ear while Natsu began to lick her clit again. Nibbling on her lips, thrusting his tongue into her warm cavern.

Once she was relaxed Gray trusted up into her. Enjoying the feel yet afraid of cumming too soon.

Natus leaned over them, kissing Lucy, letting her taste the lube, herself, and Gray all at once on him.

He then leaned down to kiss Gray, the passion deep and inviting.

Reaching down with his right hand, burning her skin so delicately and popping her right breast into her mouth he shoved his cock deep inside her in one fluid motion.

Her scream would have had the neighbors calling the police if they were in Magnolia. But here, here they could ravage her as much as they wanted, no fear of having to stop. Not unless she said so.

Lifting himself slightly he began to trust, causing not only his cock to move but Grays as well. Making her as full as possible.

Her nails dug into Natsu's back, her lips sloppily kissing Gray. Moaning as she was about to reach yet another orgasm and squeezing tightly around her boys. Enjoying the feeling of Grays hands fondling her nipples, sucking on her ears lobes, kissing her neck. While Natsu leaned back slightly to watch her come apart as his thumb rubbed circles on and around her clit. Edging her into completion.

"Yes.. Yes... Oh Fuck Yes! Please more, don't stop I need you in me, fill me, fuck me, claim me, take me I'm yours.

Her moans drowning out even the sound of the waves outside.

Gray was moaning as well, "Cum again Lucy, come on baby I wanna feel you cum on my cock."

Natsu started thrusting faster and harder. He leaned down and kissed Gray again to then turn his head and kiss Lucy, " That's it, baby. Cum for us, scream, let us make you feel good all month long."

Her orgasm ripped through her in a loud guttural groan, making her whole body go tight.

The feel of her squeeze caused both men to gasp and lose their breath as Natsu started to pump in a ragged uneven rhythm.

His orgasm was ripped from him first, the look in his eyes as he stared down at Gray in his moment of bliss made Gray cum loudly. Their eyes never leaving each other as they rode out their orgasm.

Natsu carefully pulled out of Lucy, assisted Gray in untangling her limp and satisfied body to the bed.

Gray went and got a few warm rags and gently cleaned and cared for Lucy while Natsu got them each a water bottle. She drank like a dying woman, thirst more apparent now that she stopped. With the sheet over her overstimulated body, she relaxed reaching out for them to hold her. Wanting to be the middle spoon.

"Never leave me, guys. I love you, and I know you love each other." she yawned and fell asleep. Being held by the two men she loved most.

Natsu leaned over Lucy to kiss her on her cheek and promised to never leave. Confessing he's loved her all along.

He looked at Gray, "Shes Right ya know, I love you too! I would do anything for ya!"

Gray reached across and kissed him deeply, " I love you too flame brain, and you too Lucy. Tomorrow we can work all this out."

They all fell asleep in each other's arms, full of love and bliss.

This has no beta and I did a quick read to make sure I edited it okay!

[bayoubashsims]

The Benjamin Family Graveyard

Like most old school Betawi people, Engkong Walter Benjamin buries his relatives in his own backyard, among the shade of the banyan trees laden with moss, the bamboos, and the shrubbery, right next to the family pond. But only the Benjamin family remains more than active in the afterlife. 

It is Walter himself who takes care of the family graveyard as a retiree of the National Land Agency. He isn’t sure when did he start seeing his dead, long gone relatives. His dearly departed wife, Maryam Dhanurendra, always stays by his side and gives him advice in tough times. 

Not all of the spirits are very helpful, though. Walter’s late mother, Mak Asma, has a habit of yelling at him and disturbs his sleep by sweeping the yards with her long, whittled broom at 2 AM in the morning, while his father, Babeh Bendjamin, leaves the pungent smell of his cigarette everywhere in the house and stares at Walter in the middle of the night. Luckily, they don’t appear very often. 

When Walter was a little lad and his mother gave him hell and his father beat him up, his only defender was his grandmother, Nyai Inah. She was an expert at making fried goods, and even once departed she leaves the fragrant smell of her cooking from time to time, though sometimes the smell can be rotten--you’ll have to excuse her, she was very fond of stink beans. 

The late Kong Sadelih likes to materialize in fits of laughter, floating around in his rocking chair (which was supposed to have been destroyed by Nyai Inah when she sat on it out of spite for her husband once). Engkong is tall and thin, and is mostly quiet, preferring to talk to himself. He has a great love for Noer, Walter’s eldest brother that died of an illness when he was a toddler.

Ncang Ijul was overly excited back in the independence times, which is why his spirit likes to march, climb, and run around. If you hear bumps in the night, it’s likely that it’s just Babeh Bendjamin’s older brother. Poor guy, he died a bachelor, which makes him a very flirty ghost. 

Lastly is the Nyonya. Nobody really knows who she is. Her grave has been there since before the house and the gardens were built, back when the goat barn was still a Dutch warehouse. The Nyonya rarely appears, and when she appears, she could make the hair on your back stand. It’s better to steer clear if you see something red hanging around the banyan tree. 

[bodrumhq]

merhaba 👋🏽 , DEAN PARK . welcome to BODRUMHQ ! are you ready to have some fun ? unpack your bags & we’ll see you within 12 hours . don’t stress it though , if you need some more time to unpack your bags don’t hesitate to let us know !

MIN YOONGI IS NOW TAKEN !

🏠 ‣ [ MIN YOONGI. HE/HIM. CISMALE.] i just saw DEAN PARK on the beach. i often see them around because they’ve been living in bodrum for 5 YEARS at BITEZ DISTRICT. i overheard people saying that the TWENTY FIVE years old BARTENDER ( @  bamboo nightclub )  is hiding that HE HAS A NEWBORN SON, THAT HE HASN’T MET YET can you believe it? you haven’t heard this from me but if you would like to get to know them better you should definitely order them WHISKEY, when i think of DEAN i think of smell of cigarettes, playing the piano when everythings quiet, and flowers. [ cherry. 21+. she/her. gmt.]

[smokin-gun]

Tango

Kugane’s harbor was never a dull place to be, regardless of the time, bursting with energy even when the stars had sprung from hiding and the moon hung overhead like a protective mother with her glittering blanket.

One patron upon her docks stood out like a sore thumb, the man grunting as he hauled a large satchel over his shoulder with what looked like more ease than was likely the case. The blonde whispered a few hushed words between gritted teeth, threatening to sever the cigarette between them. His eyes remained fixed upon a well-worn pair of boots as he began his trek down the wooden planks towards the tea house, each one groaning from both his weight and the wear from the day.

Nyx had spent the last many moons in Ishgard repairing what he thought was a fatally damaged Saving Grace. The firearm had sustained much more damage than she ever had and he was convinced that he’d never be able to fix her before she’d be needed again. Since arriving in Kugane, he’d found himself closer to the Garleans and favored the city even less when he’d learned that it was completely under Garlean influence.

He’d not particularly wished to return to the Hingashi port town but he’d found a small purpose there in the information he’d been gathering. The very idea that he’d been closer to stalking his prey than ever before had a hold on him like an obsessed wild-dog. With Garleans in every establishment, it had been no hard task to catch a few loose lips, especially from the men who didn’t know how potent the Hingashi drinks could be, the rice wine in particular.

With a back hunched from the weight of several components, the Seeker made the trek towards his rented space and kicked his boots off as he arrived at the paper-lined doors. A hand lifted from his jacket and slid the door open, and once inside, closed the door with a proper click. The small room was immaculate much to his chagrin. It was too perfect and smelled strongly of florals from the maids that visited earlier in the day. The lighting, however, was warm, soft, and inviting in a way he couldn’t explain. Despite all of the order within the space, one corner had remained untouched. A bamboo table covered in copious amounts of metallic parts and the body of a badly damaged gun sat alone in the darkness.

The sight of the firearm made him sigh heavily, the cigarette between his lips blowing ash and cinders along with his breath. She was in a condition that would leave many tossing her out with with trash, tattered, dented, and ruined. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The bag draped across his shoulder fell heavy to the floor beside his bared feet and he plodded over towards the table, grasping the gun by her grip. She glistened in the faint light around them, but only enough to give away her form. Grace looked like little more than an unpolished spoon... Nyx’s eyes narrowed at the thought and a wave of disgust drifted over him. He held the gun up and leveled it with the door he’d entered from, aiming it directly at the bamboo ledge for a handle. He inhaled slowly...then out... The finger on the trigger was firm and steady... Pull! Grace remained silent and an unnatural clicking emanated from her body.

Nyx’s eyes glanced down in time to see her transforming without the proper protocol and the gun’s entire being shifted in a short second. Her barrel and slides flew upwards towards the grip with pieces of metal moving quickly towards their master’s hand. Nyx hissed loudly as they connected to flesh and bone, wrapping around his hand and crawling up his arm to form something of a prosthetic armor around the appendage. Due to her broken state, the transformation was painful and several twisted pieces sliced into tan skin. There was no stopping it once it had begun...

Mentally he braced himself until the firearm had transformed into the experimental piece he’d been working on for several seasons. It stopped just at the shoulder and fit him like a razor sharp, malfunctioning suit of armor. Blood ran down his fingers and mingled bear his feet atop the tatami mats that made up the room’s floor. Yet he stood still, breathing heavy and teeth bared, until she’d finished her metal screeching and sawing at his integrity.

Nyx’s free hand reached upwards and latched onto the break in the metal just short of his collarbone, one swift yank had the gun in pieces upon the floor covered in his life fluids. He remained silent for a time that might have alarmed someone had they been with him. His stance had gone rigid and a soft hissing might have been picked up if one were to listen closely.

“So tha’s how i’s gotta be then, huh? Nae though’ I’d be goin’ toe t’toe with ye, Lass, bu’ once I clean this shite up, we’re gonnae have a right brawl...”

Just as if nothing had happened, the Seeker disappears into a small powder room, blood trailing him the whole way.

[double-threnody]

The Long and Dark 02

Wood splintered and cracked beneath blows of the axe, sending sharp peals echoing through the forest with each successive strike. The tool still felt unfamiliar in Burkegan’s hands, even through the thick skin of his calloused fingers: it lacked the weight necessary to hew flesh through armor, and it lacked the reach and the strength to give him a properly delivered swing. The woodsman’s axe was made for trees, and with a final grunt of exertion, he chopped through the heartwood of the one before him.

“Eyes up,” he barked, more out of habit than any real danger of catching someone beneath the falling trunk. The handful of volunteers that remained among their band had dwindled in recent weeks, each of them setting out to build new homes in their reclaimed homeland one after another. With the temple itself completed and the scores of refugees taking their newfound skills and blessings of the kami with them to greener pastures, his life had become relatively quiet once again. His axe fell once, twice, carving the thick branches from the trunk one after another while his thoughts swarmed over him like a cloud of flies.

Seeing his… well. Calling them his friends may have been something of a stretch, but seeing the faces of his Ward companions had filled him with energy. Ezenzakhialga and Lolah both seemed different – though that could easily have been the months of his exile speaking – and the new runt, Maya, had caught his eye. Ropes slung over the log as he thought back: it was a surprise to see Lolah there in the first place, let alone a pushover like the little Garanji. His shoulder pressed against the slope of the tree trunk alongside his palm, and with a rumble of exertion, he pushed the thing until it rolled over the ropes and allowed him to coil the knots.

Maya must have had guts of some kind to follow a pair of Xaela into the Steppe with nothing but her book and Lolah’s cocksure attitude. Briefly he wondered how Lolah was doing in the wake of the Adarkim khagan’s… hospitality.

The ropes slipped easily over his shoulders to cross over his bare chest. With a few more quickly drawn knots and hitches in his makeshift harness, he leaned into the taut pull of the rope, grumbled a platitude to the kami, and began to walk.

It was a relatively short walk back to his ger, hidden in the shade of a few small trees left on the outskirts of the temple proper. The trip certainly wasn’t a level one, however, and his grunts only increased in frequency as he struggled to drag the twenty-fulm log. Each slight slope of the hills and upturned rock in his path sent a slight tremor down the long, narrow groove carved into the earth behind him. A quarter of a malm further and he could smell the freshly tanned leathers of his hut over the ever-present stenches of sweat and salt sticking to him beneath the bite of sap. His scars burned beneath the ropes, but finally, thankfully, he drew to a halt hardly a dozen paces from the opening of his tent.

“You’re going to throw your back like that, you old, blind, mutt; make no mistake. Hope that you fall over at the peak of a hill so we have a chance of rolling you back here.” Harsh but playful, the Doman words spilled from the inside of the ger with a spectator’s faux sense of concern.

“Hatsumine,” he rumbled, turning the bright orb of his left eye on the tent. Where he had held a glass replica in his right socket before, only an empty, puckered hole beneath withered scar tissue now gazed out from the right side of his face. Tearing a strip from the bandages binding his left arm – it was as good as healed, anyway – he wove the fabric around his shaggy mop of shock-white hair to form a makeshift eyepatch. “You should have sent word you’d be visiting; I might have made tea.” He wouldn’t have, but it was polite to lie. The Doman dialect suffered on his tongue, but every passing week granted him a little more mastery of the language than the handful of words he commanded before he arrived.

Hatsumine’s smile, dim beneath the shade of the ger, suggested she saw the lie for what it was. “Perhaps if our leaves agreed with you, you wouldn’t be rattling such a ruckus against death’s door. Doma blesses all with her bounty, if only they accept it.”

“Perhaps if Doma had a bounty worth steeping I’d share it with you,” he jabbed. It was becoming an old routine between them, and as he finally worked himself free from the remaining ropes, she stepped out into the light to deliver a response.

“Perhaps if you shared more often, my sisters would find less opportunity to harass me over your health, mutt. They could simply look at you and see that you’re wasting away.” She drew closer, glinting softly in the sunlight as the small collection of jewels and gold hoops adorning her fingers and neck gleamed. She seemed Burkegan’s opposite in nearly every metric: at barely half his height, jet-black hair to his snow-white, and a smug grin to match his deadpan grimace, she was every ilm a maiden of the shrine. “They ask after you daily now. Are you hunting enough to eat? Are you ill? Have you been taken by dysentery while none of us were watching? Tell me about your shits.”

The axe split free from the tail of the log with hardly a flick of effort, and Burke hesitated as he nearly brought it to rest in the non-existent hook situated over his left shoulder. He barely spared Hastumine a glance as he tugged a rag from his belt. The sweat from his brow, the skin beneath his scalebeds, and the scarred flesh under his horns and throat nearly left it drenched. Flicking the thing at her face as he trotted past, he stepped into the ger with a warm, welcoming chuckle.

“Hardly two months ago I believed you were as stoic a vessel for the kami as you could find. Now listen to you. Steeped in such filth I am moved to silence.” Running a hand over the bamboo frame, he dropped to a knee to begin pulling his boots from his feet.

“Then be silent already and pack me a pipe, will you? I know you keep a pinch here; the namazu are horrible liars. Now that trade is reopening between our people and the tribes to the North, They’re always scurrying about underfoot to try and find something new to sell us.” Her robes, simple in ornamentation but frighteningly clean in comparison to her current surroundings, swept in her wake as she passed right by him to take a seat on his pile of bedding. While spacious for one, the ger wasn’t built to be shared comfortably by two people. Burkegan counted himself lucky that the shrinemaiden’s frequent visits typically only added up to one and a half. With a swat of his hand he brushed her aside, ignoring her chuckles as he lifted the furs beneath her to paw at a battered, tin box tucked away between strips of hide.

“Your Eminence,” he mumbled, dripping a conciliatory note into the Eorzean word as he pressed a corn-cob pipe full of dry, pungent tobacco. Her smile twisted into a more devilish grin as she plucked the pipe from his hand, lighting it with a match from some hidden pocket deep within her white robes. “You’re going to stain those with smoke, if not with ash.” Idly, he peered at her while his practiced fingers worked at rolling a paper full of the stuff.

“The kami observe the purity of my heart and hear the purity of my singing soul, and so too shall my clothes remain pure,” she chuckled drily, pausing between heady puffs of the smoke.

“I’ve never heard that verse.”

“Yes, I just made it up. Trust that when I come to instruct you in meditation I’ll have something more heartfelt.” A teasing glint remained twinkling in her eye as she watched him seal the cigarette shut with the tip of his tongue.

“I am illuminated,” he snorted. The tip of the cigarette pressed between his lips, right in the groove of the scar that split them, and he waited for her to fall silent again before lighting it.

“You’ll be meeting another sister soon.” Her voice cut through his slowly stilling thoughts, disrupting the pleasant images of Lolah and Maya he’d barely finished dreaming up. Like a pink beacon in the shade, his eye blazed open, turning lazily to rest on Hastumine where she reclined in his furs.

“I find myself constantly amazed at how much you speak during your visits. We haven’t even fucked; what did I do to deserve this?” A sharp laugh and a short plume of smoke from her nest between the remains of a bear and a massive tiger preceded her reply.

“It’s improper. I am a woman of the cloth, Burkegan; have you lost your other eye, or did you merely forget?” The question hangs in the air amid the haze of flavored smoke, tweaked and tinged with her smile. “You committed a grievous sin and traveled to us in a pilgrimage of atonement, of course,” she murmured, crossing her legs beneath the heavy robes.

“I acknowledge my failure and will work to correct it.” Even as the words escaped him they fell flat against the dirt floor; he knew it was the proper response, and she knew he knew how to respond, and both of them knew that he had done nothing but listen – if begrudgingly – to the maidens of the shrine for weeks. “Speaking of my failures,” he mumbled, dancing a bright line through the air with the cherry at the tip of his cigarette, “has there been any word from Miyasuke? The temple is done, your people are fed. Your trees are cleared and Doma begins to rebuild herself around you.” His gaze slipped from Hastumine to his palms, covered in fresh cuts and scars and calloused skin after months of unfamiliar labor. Revivifying and oddly calming, but unfamiliar labor all the same. “Few chores remain for me. I’m turning into a guard dog, and I don’t recall signing that contract.”

Caught in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the flicker of hurt that flashed over his friend’s face upon the mention of Miyasuke’s name.

“No word as of yet, mutt. Rest easy tonight; I’ll see if we have some leftovers among the offerings for the guard dog’s belly,” she laughed. A trail of smoke and the scent of fresh linens flowed in her wake as she stood and walked past, pausing to rest her hand against his shoulder. “Think on these things, Burkegan. Clear your mind of what was and what might be. Your work has helped the people of Doma stand upon their own legs once again, and with the temple complete we can spread the guidance of the kami to everyone who lives with pain in the pit of their heart.” Her fingertips traced softly over the scars splitting his skin, coming to a rest over his left breast and the massive, rhythmic muscle beneath. “Meet with our new sister on the morrow. I will personally bring you word when I receive it from Miyasuke.” Her smile was as warm and infectious as always – the kind of smile that encouraged the work of a hundred laborers when the temple was only a crater – and Burke couldn’t help but crack a small grin in return.

“Good. Thank you, Hatsumine.”

“Thank you, mutt. Even half-blind and wasting away to nothing, the kami are grateful for your continued support. As are we.” Her laugh lingered in the tent flap, half-hollow in her departure.

@miyasukeietada

[sidpah]

Mirage Part 2

Tumult seemingly over, voice gone from the air along with the tingle of rampant electrons looking to escape their bounds, I rise, cradling my back with its heavy pack and a stomach that’s aching something fierce.

I walk a few steps but the sharp stabbing pain grows worse with each concrete tile that passes beneath my feet.

To my right is an upscale eatery of fine repute. Their bathroom would do nicely should that be the impending crisis. Likewise, I’m sure someone will call an ambulance if it turns out that I’m currently closer to death than even I often fear.

So in I go, feeling altogether filthy and disheveled and unwelcome, though no one seems to impose that opinion on me so much as I see myself as if I were one of them on soft velour benches in their freshly dry-cleaned and ironed blouses, shimmery, and business casual polos and blazers, tastefully drab.

How unkempt I must look and smell through all the showerless days in sickrooms and bamboo cages...

In the vestibule of this expensive restaurant adults clinging to their gentile children and chatting to business acquaintances are separated into two opposing lines, both patiently waiting to be seated. I check in, whereupon I’m told by an unattractive madam-type in deep crimson smoking jacket in the most conciliatory tones she can muster that there’ll be a significant wait, her hand, gripping a monogrammed ballpoint sweeps the masses as proof. I say “That’s okay, I’ll wait,” to which she suggests I try to make myself comfortable.

Inspired by my indulgent predecessors, I slip a hand into my front pocket and extract a lone bill, crumpled, stained, but watermarked, and apparently legal tender though the color and art seem wholly foreign to me. I have no idea of its value, but if it gets me seated immediately then my stomach values it at a small fortune. Hoping it’s sufficiently greasy for her proverbial palms, I make a great show of folding the bill into quarters, balancing it like a French cigarette between index and middle fingers, and then pushing the bill deep into her warm damp cleavage.

Her eyes narrow as she tightens the grip on her pen, but the left corner of her mouth turns into a tiny, narrow smile.

“Stay close by; I think I found an opening,” she tells me with a tight jaw…

I step away from the podium, realizing I need to pee; the feeling is starting to clarify itself beyond doubt, but I don’t want to leave my post and possibly miss them calling my name now that I paid for a table, and I am so damnably hungry; this realization comes in quick succession, and I must eat soon, lest I faint away once more... But the backpack is pressing on kidneys, and my belt is squishing bladder, and I am going to let it out either way.

So with no suitable alternative, I turn to the palm tree against the wall behind me, casually unzip, and look around as if admiring the framed art whose artists I don’t recognize; the actual paintings seem to change every time my eyes are diverted and return. And after a moment of tense negotiations with the musculature of penis and related waterworks, I begin urinating into the palm’s red pot.

A sharp finger taps me on the shoulder to suggest rather rudely that what I am doing may be considered improper. I mean to turn to suggest to him that I am merely admiring the decor and have no idea of what he might be insinuating, but I turn too fast, proceeding to not only douse his legs, but send a long yellow stream across matching crimson Persian rug, striking the other line of starving patrons.

A Japanese mother holding her tiny baby against her shoulder crosses through the stream and I feel horrible as I pee on her bare porcelain ankle and black scruffled-down sock.

A brief moment of disorientation follows when I discover that I’m not actually the only one to blame… Everyone is now either pissing or being pissed on.

There are parties of three or four otherwise stodgy-looking spouses with their maws wide, filling up like yellow birdbaths. Women too join in the fun with hiked skirts and thrust hips, peeling folds of skin away to direct their own fan-blade streams. I'm holding an erect hose one or two feet from two small open mouths, barrages of piss droplets ricocheting off dull white teeth.

A weird rush of exhibitionist freedom passes through me like a chill. Shamelessly displaying to all these strangers things usually kept so carefully hidden behind locked doors... Where is all this piss coming from? Am I draining the blood from my veins?

Everyone is completely drenched, but there is no sign of their stores nearing exhaustion either...

By the time the last squirt has dribbled on steaming carpet, I am head to toe, saturated in the urine of two-dozen strangers; my white shirt sepia and clinging to hot body... But now I wonder: who would eat like this? First I need to wash my hands.

The maître de calls my name, asking me to follow him. Torn, directionally, I choose the dining room, weaving through rows of wealthy mastication, forks held inches from gaping lips, their eyes least censored in revealing their unabashed shock at the sight and stench of my appearance.

So now they come to judge!

At what is to be my table, a circular one with four place settings, the maître de pulls out a chair, apparently choosing to ignore my current odiferous condition.

I don’t want to sit down like this. I look at the chair and thank him and nod my head, indicating that I am okay, that he’s free to help someone else. But he stands there absently, waiting for me to sit so he can grunt and whoof and push me in.

Finally I apologize and say that I really must excuse myself and run to the restroom before I can sit down or order. He nods a rather affected certainly, and waves a long arm out to point the way to the men’s pissoir. I rush in the direction he points, a long line of drizzling urine streaming from my clothes…

In the men’s room, I saw the rippling reflections of caustics on the mirror before I realized how deeply submerged I was… The prisms of sunlight just barely made it across the glass as I was made to drag around the giant conch shell fastened permanently to my scabbed and blistered back all along the bottom of this lifeless ocean.

Just because I’m a nomad doesn’t mean I should be subjected to the torture of a hermit crab... I didn’t sign on for this.

And where are all the fish? Is this all just a strange bird of paradise ballet to help keep the species alive? Why else would I be scooping up shimmering trout eggs floating around like tiny clear bubbles, or sunspots in the crystalline water? Humanitarianism gets you only so far before it sucks the breath from your lungs. It’s a vampiric organism. You breathe the first humble wisp of life into its fragile little body, and before you know it, it’s twice your size, drinking your last ounce of blood before discarding you for bigger and juicier donors…

“Fuck it. I give up!” I yelled, tossing the small butterfly net aside.

Bladder empty, I became thirsty beneath the waves. So thirsty the urge to drink rivaled the urge to breathe… I opened my mouth, swallowing a gorge-full of the salty water, immediately regretting my stupidity. The surface of my tongue cracked, releasing a cloud of pink dust across tonsils. I was a hundred times thirstier than before... I thought I’d known what thirst was, but I had absolutely no idea...

[purplesurveys]

389

Do you prefer hardly toasted at all or burnt toast? Leaning towards burnt but not completely. What time do you have to be out of bed by on a typical day? I have morning classes throughout the week, so for this semester I have to get up byyy 7:30 to take a shower, then I start driving by 8 to get to my 9 AM class. Other sems were kinder and allowed me to sleep in. When was the last time you cleaned your bedroom? Last Tuesday. My dad’s coming home tomorrow so I threw out whatever I didn’t need anymore so he doesn’t get greeted by a messy bedroom. In real life do you laugh like 'haha,' 'hehe' or something else? I don’t take note of my laugh but I’m sure it sounds like a high-pitched haha. Do you know anyone who says things like 'lol' in real life? Yeah much of the crowd here pronounces ‘lol’ the way it’s spelled.

Do you have any unusual skills? I could but I don’t exactly know what counts as unusual lmao. Do you have any bug bites right now? No, I don’t get a lot of those. Is there anything annoying you at the moment? Mmm nope, I think I’m good. Who's your favourite person? My girlfriend.

Are you more of a cat or dog person? DOG. I can’t stand cats. Like I will defend cats and feed them and care for them, but I cannot stand their attitudes. Do you like to look at other peoples' houses? Tbh, yeah. They’re interesting to look at and it’s also a nice source of inspiration for when I’m thinking of how to style my own house in the future. Are there any chores you actually enjoy doing? No, unless I’m in a mental breakdown and want to focus on chores to feel better, in which case I like folding laundry. What's the weirdest compliment you've ever received? I don’t really store compliments in my memory haha so I’m all blanked out. Do you remember all those rhymes like 'i before e except after c?' I know that rule but we were never explicitly taught rhymes about it. When did you last have an 'Oh, I get it now!' moment? Maybe in the last week when I did my readings on WWII and the Cold War? I’m currently taking an international relations class and the readings for it have revealed more things about both of those wars than the total amount of things taught to me for 14 years in my last school. Would you say you're more witty or childish about jokes? I can be both. Do you get on with boys or girls better? Girls. I don’t understand guys; all of the ones I know are rowdy, pushy, and don’t shy around with inappropriate humor and my patience is too short for all three of these things. Do people often confide in you? Do you like it? Pretty often, seeing as people view me as the ‘mom’ in friend groups. I like it; it shows they trust me and that’s really the most rewarding thing. Who is someone you really admire? Probably one of my professors who taught me comm theory for one semester. Do you prefer piano or guitar music? Piano. I hate acoustic songs. Do you like helium balloons? Uhhhh sure? I don’t have much of an opinion on balloons. Have your parents ever suspected something untrue about you? YES and it drives me MAD. There was one time I must’ve stepped on a cigarette butt and it must’ve fallen out from the bottom of my shoe when I got in my car to drive. My dad cleans my car after a few days and lo and behold, he sees the cigarette butt and his mind immediately went to “Robyn smokes.” I got so mad and told him I was willing to let him smell me and my breath and whatever just to prove that I don’t smoke and have no plans to. He still brings it up every now and then and it’s so annoying. Fuck whoever threw that butt on the ground. Do you have any fears that seem weird to others? Watching commercials at night. No one knows about that fear of mine other than Gab precisely because people will find me weird and’ll interrogate me nonstop about it. Have you ever wished you'd been born someplace else? I think about that sometimes. What do you think about videogames? They’re cool, and video game developers deserve tons of respect. Are there any forms of Art you personally find pointless? No, art is a body of work and the moment an artist gives their work meaning, then it’s never pointless. What would you, or do you, study at college? I study journalism, I’m hating every second of it. Are you tired right now? I am, but I have an exam on Friday so I have to study thrice as intense as I already do. Have you ever had, or wanted, a pet ferret? No, I never wanted anything other than a dog. Is there anything you find undeserving of the hype it received? Lots of TV shows and movies. Do you think it's better to label yourself than be labelled? It’s best to not rely on labels. What's something you do a lot? Drive. Are you currently on any other websites? Nope, just on Tumblr. I wanted to take one survey before I start studying. Are you good at using Photoshop? Sisssss I don’t even have it on my laptop. I never want to touch that program.

What were you last embarrassed about? I drove my girlfriend’s sister from school to their house, but her sister never informed us that she was bringing a battalion of friends with her. I have a really small car and they were five in all, and they squished themselves in the back and I felt super bad about it. Are there any clothing items you really want but can't find? I’ve never had that problem before. Have you ever been told you naturally tilt your head a certain way? No, cos I don’t? Or at least I don’t think I do it to a point that it’s noticeable. What does your dream house look like? Square, white, big windows. Do you wear a lot of make-up? I never wear any makeup. When was the last time you laughed at someone? Yesterday, when Kate tried to sing in the car. Do you have any projects on the go right now? Nah, just want to focus on acads for now. What's a habit you find gross? Spitting and smoking. I couldn’t pick; the two are equally low. Would you rather have a Poloroid or a Lomo camera? I don’t mind either. When was the last time you were jealous? Last night. Do you, or did you, really look forward to when you can finally move away? I am looking forward. Are you the one who holds everyone's bags at theme parks while they ride? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA the attack on this one. Uhh yes, I get motion sickness and I faint easily, and I quickly learned that rides are not for me so I always hold my friends’ bags. What's the worst tattoo you've ever seen? Faces are particularly bad. I also hate tattoos in cursive. What's your favourite name ever? Olivia has been a winner in the last couple of years, but ‘ever’ is kind of a bold statement which I have no answer to. Are you a hat person? I never wear hats. When was the last time you were totally grossed out? Kate used an eyelash curler in a MOVING vehicle. I can’t stand the idea of using products that require you to go near your eye, so I was squeaming beside her. Have you ever forgotten how to do something simple? It happens to the best of us. Are you ever jealous when you see couples or friends together? No, because I have a girlfriend and I have friends. Has anyone ever approached you in the street and asked to take your picture? No. Have you ever disliked something just because most people liked it? Hahahaha it can happen. That’s what happened to me with Game of Thrones. Does anything hurt on you right now? Not at the moment. What song's stuck in your head? 214 by Rivermaya, then covered by Bamboo, then covered by JM de Guzman hahahaha. Do you ever look at people and think 'Why do they have a kid?’ It’s not so much ‘Why do they have a kid?’ but more of ‘Why are they a parent.’ Did anyone ever tell you that earwigs crawl into your ear while you sleep? I don’t think so.

[erinwriteswithneilgaiman]

Writing Exercise №1: When You Regret Something You Did (or in My Case, Something I Didn’t)

Try to be a "little more honest than you're comfortable with"

I have always been a daddy's girl, but instead of a father spoiling me, it was my grandfather. My mom had me when she was in college and the biological sperm donor did nothing much beyond her first few months of pregnancy. From the moment I was brought home and cuddled by my aunts and uncles, by my cousins, and by the neighbors who lived not a stone throw's away, my grandfather has always been the one who took care of me the most.

My memories with him were the greatest. It was a childhood that I always long to live in again, always playing in my head like a scene just outside an open window, inviting me to jump back in and leave the constant strains and struggles I have to live with today as an adult. My childhood was filled with the sound of the bamboo chimes hanging over the balcony window, sighing a calming melody that plays in harmony with the hums of the rustling leaves from the sea of trees that lined our home. My childhood was the soft glow of the warm summer sun peeking in from behind the open shutters, casting dancing shadows on the pinewood floor and spotlighting tiny specks of dust as they perform a complex routine as that of a Russian ballet company. My childhood was pressed and clean polo shirts with muted stripes, a dark brown sweater that smelled of cigarettes and coffee stains, well-worn yet well-cared-for shoes, and slick, black hair.

My childhood was my grandfather.

But as with everyone, my childhood came and went - it rose to high noon and fell to set like the sun, and it waxed and waned as the monthly moon.

And so, along with the morphing moon and the fickle sun, my grandfather aged. And I didn't notice.

I didn't notice his deepening wrinkles and how many more lines appeared on his face as though all of his days had to leave marks on his skin. I didn't notice how his dark hair turned lighter and his eyes grew fainter, diluted to reflect how his technicolor world faded to muted pastels before turning to black and grey. I didn't notice how his proud and powerful walk became slower and more gentle until each step became a struggle, each breathe became a wheeze.

I didn't notice.

I didn't notice until he can no longer smile back at me with recognition, because the tubes on his mouth and lines on his arms and feet were so painful he had to stay sedated. I didn't notice until I needed to comb back his hair from his forehead and wipe the sweat on his face while we turned him over to keep him from growing bedsores on his back. I didn't notice until I had to stand by his bedside as he stayed in bed for the longest time, the longest time in my whole life, and he stayed there. And he stayed there. And he stayed there.

Until they had to take him away to get him ready for the funeral.

But what I was more afraid of is that, what if, I chose not to notice.

What if I chose to turn to a blind eye?

What if I looked but didn't see?

What if I just didn't notice?

But if I think about it, I know now that I noticed.

I know I noticed because I grew more reluctant to let go, with every hug and every kiss of goodbye. I know I noticed but I called more often and sent messages more often even when he didn't send messages back. I know I noticed because I had nightmares of him falling off cliffs and tumbling down stairs. I know I noticed. I noticed.

Now, I am still a daddy's girl, even more so than before. My grandfather is still spoiling me, but instead of gifts and hugs, he spoils me with memories and occasional bouts of tears that remind me of the lessons he thought me in passing.

If there was one thing I wish I could tell him right now, it would be "Daddy, I noticed."

I noticed.

-E

[hanzier]

In Beverly Marsh's eyes the summer kicked off with a minor inconvenience. Much like the boys, Bev didn't have any idea what she was getting herself into when she became a part of the losers club. You see, Beverly Marsh had just had one hell of a year. It started off pretty terribly, but she had worked her way up. After painful hours of sewing and measuring and packaging and selling she had managed to save up enough money to move out of one toxic home into another home (though the later was only toxic smelling as her pluming was awful). By the beginning of the summer she had never been in a better place. However, her "minor inconvenience" would soon spiral into something much much more. It would carry on for the rest of the summer, and influence several of her important decisions after the summer ended.

Bev was hoping that her life would carry on rebuilding itself, as it had been for the past year. That was not the case. In fact, by the end of the summer, her life would nearly be in the same disaster mode it had been a year ago. She didn't know what this summer had in store for her. So, she carried on blissfully unaware of the repercussions that her actions would soon have. Beverly Marsh was no fool, it wasn't her fault that she was ignorant to the future. No one could have seen it coming.

Watching the sunset at Paradise Beach was somewhat of a magical thing. At least, thats what Beverly Marsh claimed.

She was sprawled out at the end of Eddie's towel, her heart shaped sunglasses lowered to the very tip of her nose, "God, don't you just love the sky?" she asked breathily.

The three boys around her nodded, not that she would have known, for she didn't so much as glance away from the fading sun.

"I just wish we were on the rooftop." She said finally, as she turned to face Eddie, Stan and Bill.

Stan laughed, taking off his own sunglasses, "You're still on that whole rooftop thing, huh?"

Bill and Eddie both looked mildly confused, but she responded, "Everything is just prettier higher up."

"Are you high, Bev?" Bill asked, sincerely and she laughed in her own bubbly way.

"Not yet. Do you smoke, Eddie? I know Stan hates it, but Bill used to cyph with me... Are you into it?" She was genuinely curious, but Eddie felt mildly embarrassed.

He had only smoked twice and while he had enjoyed the light feeling, he was nowhere near experienced with weed, "I have before. I like it better than drinking to be honest."

This was news to the other boys, "Really?" Stan asked while Bill knitted his brows together, "If I knew that I would score you some weed so that you don't have to sit there sober while the rest of us drink."

Eddie shrugged, it wasn't as if his friends were drunk every day, maybe once or twice a month they would hang out at Bill's house and have a few beers, "I mean... we don't exactly party often, Bill." He didn't know how quickly that would change.

"Well, I plan to full on corrupt you. With your consent, of course." Bev grinned while hooking her sunglasses onto the string of her yellow bikini.

It had taken Eddie about two hours on the beach to realize that Bev wasn't a lifeguard like Mike and Richie. The two boys had walked back and forth from the stand to the towels every hour, alternating breaks, while Bev stayed there, lounging and completely destroying her pale freckled skin through exposure to the harsh sun.

"You boys should swing by the apartment before the bonfire. Plenty of weed for you there, Eddie."

Stan laughed again, and Eddie realized all at once, how much more at ease he seemed to be there, "I'm sure there is."

"You have your own apartment?" Eddie asked and Bev shook her head.

"Not entirely mine. Richie and I moved in earlier this year, Stan helped us set it up, back in October actually." Eddie briefly remembered Stan driving down to his summer house that fall.

Bev gave a solemn sort of smile, "It's pretty crappy, but better than where I used to live. Plus, I can't expect much more from a lifeguards salary and Etsy sales." Bev had explained earlier that she sewed her own clothes and sold them on Etsy and other websites to a pretty decent following of fashion lovers. But for some reason, Bill and Stan shared a look at the last part of her statement.

"I think it's cool that you guys have your own place," Eddie started, but he was cruelly interrupted by Richie Tozier, for what felt like the hundredth time that day, on instinct, he tired to suppress a groan.

It wasn't that Eddie didn't like him. He was just...a lot. Eddie understood fully what Stan and Bill had been talking about when they said most of their friends were easy to get along with. It seemed as if Richie had made it his life mission to make Eddie as uncomfortable as possible in their brief moments together thus far.

"Howdy, y'all." His Hawaiian shirt had been shed off and Eddie was left looking at the light definition of muscle on his torso, "How're you pretty ladies doin'?"

He gave Bev an unceremoniously dramatic kiss on the forehead and made his move to do the same to Stan, who immediately covered his face. Richie shrugged and moved on to Bill instead, who accepted the kiss graciously. He then locked eyes with Eddie, and luged forward, making him his final victim.

The wetness on his forehead made Eddie cringe as he shoved Richie off, hoping his red face could be mistaken for too much sun.

Bev smacked Richie's leg, as Mike joined them once again, "You're going to scare him off, Rich. Some of us want to actually make more friends."

Mike nodded as well, beaming down at all of them, "Yea, Rich, pretty sure Eddie doesn't want your germs."

Richie responded by smacking another wet kiss to Mike's cheek, "You want my germs, right Mikey?"

Mike fake shuddered but ruffled Richie's hair nonetheless, "Of course."

The beach had cleared out, lifeguards were off duty once the sun set. So the group made their move to leave.

Bill unfolded the umbrella while Stan and Eddie folded up towels.

"So boys, you're coming over before the bonfire right?" Bev asked as the six of them walked up the sand towards the boardwalk.

Bill and Eddie nodded, "Great, Stan can show you guys how to get there."

"Inviting people into my home without my permission, Beverly?" Richie earned himself another smack.

Mike, Bev and Richie began teetering off the the left of the boardwalk, while Eddie, Stan and Bill went right.

"Be there at seven, okay? It'll be fun I swear!"

Eddie believed her.

Beverly Marsh hoped this summer would be better than her last.

She was not very good at dealing with serious issues and the previous year had been filled with serious issues.

Things seemed better. She wasn't stuck living with her father. She wasn't stuck lifeguarding. And she wasn't stuck wondering if Bill was okay.

She didn't mind that Bill seemed uninterested in her romantically, she hardly had time for that anyway. She was just glad that he was back at the beach with them, where he belonged.

Bev liked having the extra bodies around, it made everything feel a hell of a lot less lonely. She felt as if there was no such thing as too many friends, another reason why she was glad Eddie had joined them this year.

He was snarky and quick witted. In the hours that they had spent talking, he had challenged her conversations, but not nearly as vehemently as he had challenged Richie's. He was not at all what she had expected when she first laid eyes on his small frame. But, she should have known better than to judge a book by its cover.

Richie seemed to be eager for another friend as well, "I like him. He's feisty, we could definitely use a little more fire around here. Denbrough seemed down to you, right?"

The two of them were lounging on the worn out peach couch that Mike had found on the side of the road. Bev's head was in his lap while they passed a cigarette back and forth.

"I think thats to be expected. When's the last time you saw him?" She spoke solemnly while he ran hand through her hair.

Richie blinked for a long time, "I guess I've only seen him twice after the funeral... I visited him in the fall and he was still pretty off. Then over the winter when he drove down here- that weekend you were looking at schools with Mike. He was a little more himself then."

Bev blew smoke straight into the air, "It fucking sucks."

"He's better than he was then, but still. He's not the old Bill." Richie took the cig with greedy fingers, he always had a hard time controlling himself after not smoking during his shift.

She stood a little too quickly, "He's not gonna be the old Bill. His brother died, Rich."

"I'm well fucking aware of that, Bev." He snapped back, almost shoving the cigarette back intoner hands before he stood.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower before they get here.", in true Richie fashion, he stormed off to the bathroom with a dramatic door slam.

Bev sank back into the couch finishing off the cig before snuffing it on the already ruined couch arm. A fight with Richie wasn't uncommon. It was pretty typical actually, spending so much time with someone lead to lots of bickering, especially with unresolved tension in the air. Bev followed him to the bathroom, hoping they could blow off some steam together.

Mike showed up while Richie and Bev were still in the bathroom, so he let himself in with the spare key they had given him. The apartment was a studio, so he was glad they finally learned to fool around somewhere other than the couch or the mattress that was half hidden behind a black bamboo wall divider. Over the past two years he had grown used to it, but that didn't mean the thought of Richie and Bev together didn't gross him out.

They were both like his siblings and he just couldn't shake the feeling that they only hooked up out of convenience. It happened very infrequently ever since they moved in together, but it still happened. From what Mike had gathered, it was only after they argued over something important.

He sighed and started to clean up a little, he had a feeling Stan would not be happy with the state of their apartment. Halfway through making the bed, Bev exited the bathroom still dressed in her yellow bikini and looking only slightly disheveled, with a new hickey on her collar bone. She jumped when she saw him, "Oh my god!"

"No, it's just me." Mike deadpanned as he finished folding the comforter.

Bev grinned sheepishly, "Not much of a difference there, then." she looked around, "What are you cleaning for?"

Mike shrugged, moving on the the kitchen section, or what he liked to call the real disaster zone. "Stan isn't gonna like this mess."

She made to help him throw out some takeout boxes, "Still crushing on him?" she asked slyly.

Mike scrunched his nose, "Still crushing on Bill?" Bev turned around.

"Hardly." She said bitterly.

"Is that why you're hooking up with Rich again?"

She blushed, "No Mike. I'm not hooking up with Richie because I still like Bill. Thats twisted logic."

Mike ran the sink and started to scrub down the dishes, there weren't too many, Bev and Richie opted for paper plates most days, "You and Richie exclusively use twisted logic."

"You're mad." She stated the obvious, and bumped his hip so that she could do the dishes instead.

He sighed, "Im not mad, just... fed up. I thought it was over with. It's really not helping either of you."

Bev shrugged, feeling much more embarrassed than she had been moments before, "Its just comfortable, ya know? I thought it was over with too, but Richie and I are too needy. Us living together is dangerous. Because neither of us wants to be alone." Mike knew she meant alone on a larger scale. Richie and Bev had both been thrown into the world by themselves in a way, it was only natural that they wanted someone to be with.

It was just easier for them to pretended they should be together.

"So no feelings for Bill?", Mike asked as he tried to wipe ashes off of the couch.

Bev shook her head, honestly.

"And no feelings for Rich?"

She shook her head answering honestly, once again.

Mike sighed, "So then, what are you doing, Bev?" she shrugged, moving over to her closet, which acted a bit more like her hamper.

"Right now I'm getting changed. In five minutes I'll probably be lighting a blunt." she dug through her clothes, pulling out an oversized grey band shirt and some tights.

Mike laughed, the tension in the air was gone. He was just concerned for his friends, Bev knew that. As she pulled on her fishnets she asked, "You never answered about Stan. Still having unresolved feelings?"

Mike shook his head, "Nah, we ended things better than you and Bill did. Tied up all our lose ends. Sure, I care about him, but not like that anymore. Especially seeing him and Bill today...I don't think I'd ever want to get in the way of that."

Bev laughed, "You noticed that too? I thought I was losing my mind."

The bathroom door opened once again. Richie stepped out wearing an all black outfit, save for his short sleeved purple button up covered in a loud 80's pattern.

He rubbed a towel against his wet hair, "Hey Mike."

Mike and Bev shared a look as he threw the towel back into the bathroom and opened up the fridge, pulling out a slice cold pizza and scarfing it down.

"Who's rolling tonight?"

Bev opened the door grinning widely, and Eddie was hit with the overwhelming smell of weed.

He noticed Stan wince to his right, but he entered anyway.

The apartment was almost exactly what Eddie had pictured, small, dark and too loud. A song by The Cure was blasting in the background.

The second the door closed, he felt a slim arm around his shoulder, Richie was beaming down at him. Eddie noticed that there was a purple mark on his neck, which hadn't been there a few hours ago.

Bill noticed it too, "Who's the lucky lady?"

Richie laughed, "Don't assume now, Billy. Mike could have given this to me."

Mike snorted from the other side of the room, "I would have done a better job then that!"

Eddie felt the weight lift from his shoulder and was suddenly colder than he should have been.

"Lets see your masterpiece then, sir. Have at it." Richie had all but flown across the room into Mikes space.

The two play wrested while Bev rolled her eyes, "Okay, who wants what? We have a pretty good selection of drinks and an even better selection of weed."

She lead them to the kitchen, which was only three steps to the left, and Eddie eyed the fridge as she opened it. It was covered in polaroids and drawings that looked vaguely familiar. There was a picture that was sketched to look like a side profile of Bev's face, Eddie saw the messy signature in the bottom corner, it was Bill's. He grinned and she shut the fridge, holding some beers and a bottle of tequila.

"Still your favorite, Stan?" Stan let out a laugh, "As long as you have lime and salt."

Bev winked, "You just so happened to name two out of the three foods Richie and I own."

She reached up to get some shot glasses from the top shelf and the collar of her oversized tee fell off of her shoulder. Eddie noticed she had a mark that matched Richie's.

"Eddie, you want a shot, or should I just roll for you?" Eddie looked at her collar bone and back to Richie, who Mike had thrown over his shoulder. He then looked back at Stan and Bill, who were absolutely standing purposely close enough to touch.

He had a feeling he was going to need a little help to get through this week without Ben, "You can pour me one too. I think I'll see what it feels like to get cross faded."

He heard a cheer from across the room, as Bill clapped him on the bak and Stan looked confused.

Richie and Mike gathered around the counter as well and the six of them licked the salt off of their hands before downing the shot and biting into their own wedges of lime.

Collectively they all let out some sort of a cheer, although Richies sounded more like a laugh. Eddie took it all in, feeling slightly uncomfortable and contented, all the same.

And so, the longest night of Eddie's life kicked off with a bang.

@fuckuris @dewdropseddie @richietoaster @sad-synth