#polaris butterfly

[thingstrumperssay]

If you're in Houston right now, I'd leave, period.

Apparently this is all the detail that's public on the gas leak:

The same thing happened in my home town. The radius widened within minutes which is why I'm suggesting you leave Houston for a few hours if you can.

The gas leak in my home town resulted in an explosion that killed one person. That's when the radius widened a lot.

My brother witnessed it. He was about a half a mile away and he was in his truck, which lifted off the ground by "what felt like an inch." He'd probably be seriously injured if he wasn't in that truck.

I'm going to be tagging this with tourist attractions in Houston to make sure that as many people as possible sees this.

[extravalgant]

The wizard saved the pirate in the five boxes?

HM.... i wouldnt say saved them exactly but i would argue that the wizard had a hand in guiding both boochbeard and gandry to where the pirate was being held... :>

i do like the implications of that, too, though – we didn't know them, and yet we made an enourmous impact on their life. by saving two silly pirates in our quest, we initiated someone else's call to action.

AND WHILE IT MAY NOT BE COMPLETELY LIKE THAT... the point of that post in particular was to appreciate how intertwined the fates of the wizard and the pirate are. idk i think thats kinda neat!

SO MAINLY its just my wording 😭 you can take it however you want

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 ✩࿐

pairings: kazuha, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, actor au, mutual pining, idiots in love (affectionate), kissing

summary: in which you kiss your pretty co-star for a scene of the new drama you’re filming. the twist? he’s head over heels in love with you!

a/n: also, this is very unlikely, but if you’ve seen this before, it’s because i messed up and posted it by accident before editing it one final time.

KAZUHA is a love interest straight out of the most euphoric of dreams and the most fantastical of fairytales. He’s sweet, gentle, and considerate, and each time the cameras start rolling, it almost feels as though nothing has changed. He’s the same charming and thoughtful boy you’ve grown to know and love. The only differences in his demeanor are subtle — hidden in the smallest of actions.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Kazuha asks you as he reads over his lines one last time. “If you have any objections, I can ask someone to revise the script.”

As a renowned actor, Kazuha has a considerable amount of power. If he was more selfish, he would have abused his position. However, he typically never objects to anything the directors tell him to do. He simply follows orders. Unless, of course, you’re uncomfortable with anything.

It’s funny. Whenever Kazuha’s told to do something, he has no complaints. He reminds you of liberating winds — able to blow on and persist in any situation. But when it comes to you, he doesn’t have any problems with telling the director to make subtle changes to scenes.

Somehow he’s even more charming than any love interest in a romance drama could ever be. In fact, working on set with Kazuha already makes you feel like you’re living in a fantasy formed in the mind of a hopeless romantic, so it’s no surprise that you’ve developed a bit of a crush on the sweet boy.

“No, it’s fine,” you answer your co-star. You try to act nonchalant, but in reality, your heart is fluttering like the delicate wings of the iridescent butterflies tickling the pit of your stomach. Every moment with him causes a hurricane of giddiness to well up within you. A kiss scene with Kazuha sounds like a dream come true.

“Alright then. Let’s get started,” the director interrupts your conversation — an exchange he was clearly listening in on. “Places, everyone!”

Both you and Kazuha exchange and glance and then get into position. You enter a house designated for the shooting of your drama while Kazuha stands outside in the warm streetlight. A singular call of “Lights! Camera! Action!” — followed by the beginnings of an artificial storm — are your only cues before the crew begins to film.

The scene starts with the ring of a doorbell. It’s a sound that reverberates in the face of overwhelming silence and melancholy, disturbing the peaceful waters atop an ocean of stillness. The sound summons you to the door, and as you twist and pull on the knob, a shivering figure is revealed. It’s Kazuha.

“Oh, hi,” you say, flawlessly adjusting your tone ever-so-slightly to fit the character you’re portraying. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

The droplets of rain falling from the false sky are bothersome, but Kazuha covers everything up with a perfect performance.

“Hi,” he whispers breathlessly. His voice is as gentle as ever, and the way he looks at you with eyes overrun with wonder makes your heart flutter. Stars glowing with a light reminiscent of Polaris seem to appear in his irises, beaming at you with adoration that appears just a bit too genuine.

“Why are you here?” you ask him, trying your best to morph your expression into one that conveys disbelief and concern.

“I just… wanted to see you,” the words fall from Kazuha’s lips effortlessly. His tone is warm, a soft blanket wrapping around your heart with the comfort of a thousand spring sunbeams. He’s so incredibly perfect.

“But you didn’t have to show up in the middle of a storm!” you insist.

Kazuha laughs sheepishly.

“I guess I just couldn’t contain myself,” he admits. After a long pause, he speaks again. “To be honest, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say.”

Your breath hitches. Here it comes.

“I’m in love with you,” he finally admits. His crimson eyes burn with a passion that is unmatched, and although they are calmer than aquamarine waters on peaceful summer days, they also hold an intensity akin to the heart of winter’s glacial plagues. Even though his words are scripted, you can’t deny that the beating of your heart begins to pick up.

“You don’t have to say that you love me too,” he adds. “I just wanted you to know.” Kazuha sends a soft smile your way, his features morphing to convey nothing more than pure, everlasting endearment.

You let the silence that follows stretch on for a few seconds before speaking.

“But I do love you.”

Kazuha’s eyes widen, and somehow, his gaze softens even more. For a moment, he stands still, caught in a daze. However, it isn’t long before he recites his next line.

“Then… may I?” he glances at your lips as he speaks, and it’s clear what he means.

You nod. “I want this just as much as you,” you whisper. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.” Your voice comes out choked, trembling like an autumn leaf fluttering amidst inconstant wind. You mean it, but he’ll never know.

With that, he leans towards you. For a moment, all you can think about is him. His pale skin made cold by the rain, irises that appear as beautiful as lakes filled with the most precious of glimmering rubies, hair fashioned from guiding starlight, and a voice softer than the most touching of nature’s fantasias.

And when his lips meet yours, it’s like fireworks go off in the pit of your stomach, illuminating every bit of your soul with a joy that permeates even the darkest of thoughts. He’s sweet, gentle, considerate, and he treats you like you’re the most delicate thing in the world — as if you could break at any moment. Everything feels so incredibly warm despite the fact that his lips have been cooled by the ongoing storm.

He places his hand on your cheek as the kiss deepens and smiles slightly. It almost feels as though his feelings run deeper. But that’s just a delusion you’re forging in your mind because you’ve fallen for him, right?

Perhaps, but as you pull away and the director ends the scene with a loud “Cut!” Kazuha’s face lingers near yours for a few seconds, his eyes scanning your expression for something entirely unknown to you.

“Let’s do this again sometime,” he whispers in your ear, grinning at you cheekily before he quickly leaves, presumably to check in with his management team.

It takes you a minute to break out of the hazy stupor that Kazuha’s kiss induced, but once you do, you realize the implications of his parting words.

He wants to kiss you again!

SCARAMOUCHE acts indifferent. Apathy runs rampant through every constellation within the galaxies that are his eyes, and a permanent scowl seems to be etched onto his face whenever he’s not being filmed. It’s shocking how different he is when the cameras start rolling.

“Let’s get this over with,” Scaramouche mutters under his breath as he walks by you. The two of you take your places, slipping masks of infatuation onto your faces. Except unbeknownst to you, Scaramouche isn’t quite putting up a façade. The director gives you a cue, and then you’re off.

“Please don’t leave,” Scaramouche whispers, his personality and mannerisms changing up in a complete 180. He’s nothing like himself right now, and no matter how much of a jerk he is when you’re not filming, you have to admit that he’s a skilled actor. The way his voice breaks almost makes you believe that his words are sincere. Almost.

“I don’t have a choice,” you say, delivering the lines you have rehearsed too many times to count. You channel every ounce of raw emotion within you to pull off a touching performance, and it seems to be working. The director hasn’t stopped you yet, and he’s a man with rather harsh standards.

A silence ensues. You look up as practiced, meeting Scaramouche’s gaze. In that moment, you almost break character when you see his eyes. They’re watering. Oceans of grief pool up as he stares at you, looking at you as if he’ll never see you again. Right now, the inky depths of his indigo irises appear more captivating than ever.

Something about his pain feels real, as if he’s experienced the heartbreak that comes with abandonment before. It’s almost as though he’s simply tapping into a facet of himself that he hides. And despite the fact that you don’t always get along with Scaramouche, you feel the urge to hug him and shower him in affection.

“Will you come back?” Scaramouche’s gaze turns wistful as he speaks, his entire expression glittering with hints of hope and light.

“I will,” you say under your breath. “I promise.”

You take a step toward him and caress his cheek, relishing in the softness of his skin as you brush your fingers along his jawline. A light pink dusts his cheeks. If you were less professional, you would have imploded upon seeing his blush. The fact that he can elicit such a response on command is awe-inspiring, and plus, he looks incredibly adorable — nothing like the grouchy Scaramouche you’re used to.

With gentle movements, you take his chin in your hand and glance down at his lips with what you hope is a look of unadulterated passion and admiration. “May I?” you whisper. The softness of your voice surprises even you.

Scaramouche hesitates and then nods shyly — a perfect portrayal of the timid character he’s playing. He’s incredible.

Slowly, you inch toward him, watching as he narrows his eyes and parts his lips slightly. He’s so pretty, and in that moment, you can’t help but admire him. Messy strands of hair reminiscent of nightfall adorn his forehead, and his pale skin is tinted with the subtlest hint of colour.

For a second, as his face is hidden from the camera by the back of your head, he reverts to his typical self. He opens his eyes just a little wider, and exchanges a glance with you. A brief hint of emotion flashes through his irises. You’ve been working with him long enough to know what he’s trying to say. Don’t mess this up.

Things move in slow motion. Time stretches from seconds to millennia, and his expression reverts back to the picture-perfect look of a young man who’s innocently falling into the temptation of blissful love.

And when your lips finally connect in a kiss, you are fully immersed in the delusion of the scene. You wholeheartedly believe that he loves you. From your sentiments stems a warm feeling that bubbles up in the pit of your stomach. It’s soft and ticklish, and it only gets stronger as his lips move against yours.

He sighs into the kiss, and when you open your eyes in order to observe his face, you notice that his own eyes are closed, and he seems completely lost in the moment. At this point, it doesn’t even feel like he’s playing a character anymore. It almost feels as though everything is authentic.

However, when you part, reality hits you like the first snowstorms of winter — harsh, biting, and unrelenting in its pursuit. Scaramouche was only playing his part. Although everything had felt genuine, you know that it was just a mask he put on for the screen.

But as you finish up the scene, you fail to notice the way he walks away with a sunset pink blush tinting his cheeks. He touches his fingers to his lips in a daze and smiles the slightest bit.

“What an idiot,” he scoffs under his breath, but no matter how harsh his tone is, he is unable to conceal the hints of underlying affection in his voice. “Just how long will it take them to notice that I’m not acting?”

XIAO is usually extremely professional, and that’s more or less all you can say about him.

On camera, he is able to act as a charismatic, although slightly shy, love interest, but for whatever reason, things with him just feel so much more awkward when you’re not filming. Most of the time, he tries his best to avoid you as if interacting with you is a scenario straight from his nightmares.

And maybe it is, because on the rare occasions where you manage to catch Xiao off guard and strike up a conversation with him, his responses to your questions are always blunt. But it never really feels like he hates you. It just seems that he’s not the best at socializing.

Things between you are rather awkward, despite the fact that you’re co-stars. So when you’re told that you have to kiss each other for an episode of the drama you’re filming, you feel as though your world is ending.

Sure, Xiao is incredibly attractive with his golden eyes, tinted a colour reminiscent of the sweetest honey; seafoam hair that never fails to remind you of the mystifying ocean; and a pair of pink lips that look impossibly soft. He’s tantalizing, and a kiss with him wouldn’t be so bad — if not for the concerns that flood your troubled mind.

But unfortunately for you, there’s no way to retaliate when the director tells you that the shooting of the scene is about to commence. You just have to go with the flow and hope for the best.

As you pass by Xiao on your way to your places, you whisper a soft “good luck” so that only he can hear you. He nods in acknowledgement, and if your eyes aren’t deceiving you, the slightest smile appears on his face.

You sit down at the edge of a grassy cliff and wait. Meanwhile, you hear the sound of Xiao walking to a spot a short distance away from you. You take a deep breath, getting into character and gazing at the dazzling lights and countless galaxies in the night sky above.

Soon enough, the director calls for you to begin, and the atmosphere falls silent. The only sound you can hear within the stillness is the crunching of leaves under Xiao’s feet. You can’t see him, but you know he’s coming up behind you.

And after a few seconds, the sound of footsteps diminishes into nothingness.

“Hey,” Xiao’s voice rings out from behind you.

As scripted, you ignore him and continue looking ahead as if his presence is insignificant. The grass rustles as he sits down beside you, and in the edges of your vision, you can see him directing his gaze towards you.

“Are you alright?” he asks you.

“I’m fine,” you say, trying your best to emulate a tone that conveys nothing but the utmost irritation.

To your surprise, Xiao flinches slightly. That isn’t part of the script.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?” he sounds like he’s on the verge of tears as he questions you.

You shake your head. “I said I’m fine.”

Both you and Xiao allow silence fill the atmosphere for a few moments, adding to the dramatic effect of the scene, before speaking again.

“I don’t believe you,” Xiao says, leaning closer to you to examine your expression.

Somehow, you’re able to remain calm despite the fact that the boy who makes you feel a plethora of emotions as numerous as the stars overhead is so close to you. It’s going surprisingly well so far.

And perhaps that is where you jinx yourself because the events that unfold afterwards are disastrous.

“Why do you even care? I thought you didn’t like me!” you scream.

Xiao jolts, and in that moment, the fear, confusion, and utter dismay flashing across his face act as a testament to his acting skills. He’s extremely talented.

Yet again, the night goes silent before Xiao utters, “I do like you — love you, even.” His words are soft, but you’re sure that the production crew managed to pick them up, and that’s all that matters.

Your entire world stops for a moment.

“I do care about you,” Xiao reiterates, “Because I love you.”

Your mind goes blank. Why do his words feel so real?

It takes a few seconds for you to recover from your shock, but when you do, your voice comes out softer than ever.

“I love you too.”

For a few seconds, you look up to meet Xiao’s gaze, losing yourself in the sunkissed dandelion hues of his irises. He smiles at you, and you smile back. His gaze shifts down to your lips.

“Is it okay if I…?” he trails off, and in addition, you swear that you can feel heat radiating off his cheeks. Is he too shy to finish the sentence?

That seems to be the case because for a split second, all he can do is stare at your lips as though he’s frozen in place. You decide to take matters into your own hands and play it off as intentional.

“Yes,” you whisper quietly. “Kiss me.”

With that, Xiao snaps out of his trance and takes both your cheeks in his hands before inching his lips closer and closer towards yours. The fact that the director hasn’t stopped you yet spurs you on because it means that this take is still salvageable.

Time seems to move in slow motion as the distance between you and Xiao closes. But although it feels like it takes forever, it’s only seconds before your lips meet Xiao’s in a gentle kiss that sends butterflies racing through the pit of your stomach.

The warmth of his skin on yours accelerates the beating of your heart, making you feel almost dizzy as the world around you seems to melt into a jumble of nothingness. All that matters at the moment is the two of you.

But unfortunately, you still have a role to play, so after a few moments of absolute bliss, you pull away from Xiao in order to continue on. However, when you do, you see that under the beams of artificial light that spill from around the set, his face is dusted pink.

“How was it?” you ask, grinning at Xiao. You hope and pray to the archons that he won’t mess anything up.

“I — uhm…” Xiao tries to speak, but all that comes out is a stutter. A stunned silence is all that follows. This is bad.

“Cut!” the director yells, breaking through the tranquility of night. “Xiao, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Sorry,” Xiao mutters, looking down to conceal the last of the blush on his face.

The director sighs. “You know what this means, right? We’ll have to reshoot that scene, and yes, that means you’ll have to kiss [name] again. Can you handle that?”

You feel Xiao tense up slightly, but to your surprise, he looks up at the director and speaks. “I have no objections. I’ll kiss them as many times as it takes to finish this.” He says the words so eagerly. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought that he wanted to kiss you more.

Needless to say, the night ends with countless kisses, each one sweeter than the last as exhaustion melts away the ice caging your hearts. And once and for all, your chemistry onscreen becomes undeniably perfect.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider commenting or reblogging! It helps a lot.

[darkxsoulzyx]

Responses to being called “cute”:

Based off of the digital circus response thingy to “reactions to Bein called cute”

Dusk/Dawn belongs to Me (hehe)

Tycho (blue blorbo) and Sunspot (orange blorbo) belong to @garbagechocolate

Monarch (butterfly blorbo), Polaris (angel blorbo), and Priscilla (Little blorbo) belongs to @nebuladreamz

Myrtis (flower blorbo) belongs to @ilsole

Somi (big button blorbo) belongs to @smoljeanius

[fushipurro]

In the Shadows of Love

Chapter 4 - Debut

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, depression, insecure/intrusive thoughts, angst, mentions of alcohol

☆ Word Count: 7.3k

The day you’ve been dreading has come at last.

The week leading up to now has been miserable to say the least, with one thing happening after another. Not only that, but your sleep has been suffering as well. A few times you struggled to keep your eyes open, and then other moments you powered through the day only to stare wide-eyed at the ceiling begging for sleep to come.

You can only hope the few hours of sleep you did manage to get will be enough for the day to come, and that the bags under your eyes aren’t too noticeable. It’s one thing to be a regular model, but another to handle the business side of it as well. But after today, you’ll have the respite your body craves.

When morning arrives, you take a nice long everything shower to prepare yourself for the day ahead. The rest of your looks are to be handled by professionals on site – makeup included. Hence why all you need to do is come dressed in the epitome of casualwear. You’ll be changing into a dozen outfits throughout the shoot, so no sense in wearing the fanciest your closet as to offer.

A message appears on your phone from the taxi service waiting on you outside. With your purse in hand, you kiss Tsumiki goodbye, and make your way out the building. It’s odd walking around at this time of day, where normally you’re sound asleep while others move to and fro with their lives.

You get to your ride without issue – aka, no neighborly conversations – and settle into the backseat of the car. From there, you keep your eyes to the world around you, silently screaming the longer it takes to get to your destination. At this point you just want to get it over and done with to get back to the sanctity of your home for some much-needed relaxation.

You pity the driver for having to put up with the incessant bouncing of your legs and the tapping of your fingers, but until the day is over, you won’t know peace.

It all feels so much more real once the site of the shoot comes into view. It’s a luscious garden park, packed to the brim with various scenery. You’re able to see the crew hard at work in setting up the area, and even more as the car comes to a stop for you to make your entrance, truly setting the day in motion.

For a while, you weren’t sure who you were even going to be working with today. A part of you hoped it might be Mei Mei, or one of the other female models to help you feel more at ease. Girls stick together, being the motto you cling to, hoping the other party would feel the same about you. You’re told however that you’ll be modeling with none other than the Satoru Gojo.

A legend in this field, a star above them all, like Polaris of the northern skies.

He’s a man with perfectly white hair – which seems like a recurring theme when you look at Mei Mei or her younger brother from the same company – and eyes that put the brilliance of sapphires to shame. The rest is all in his genes and the physique he’s sculpted over years of hard work and discipline.

You’ve been a long-time follower of his on social media, amazed by how effortless he makes modeling appear. His high energy, charismatic personality he shows off online is another appeal. A social butterfly, an extroverted type you sometimes wish you could be like.

By all means, that should make you feel better about working with him today, but you’d argue it makes it that much worse.

Does meeting your heroes ever go well for anyone?

Is it worth potentially ruining the image you’ve cultivated in your head from their online presence versus the actual knowledge you get from meeting them in public?

At the end of the day, who knows? You’re about to find out one way or another, so let’s hope he’s one of the good ones.

They chose a beautiful venue for the magazine, as the park is heavily adorned in trees showcasing the vibrant warm colors autumn has to offer. The main shooting area is set around a large fountain where you can make out all the crisp leaves floating like petals in the spring. Close to the park is a spot in town filled with more historic buildings, works of architectural genius you admire like it’s a game of The Sims. It makes the perfect location for the looks you’ll be showing off.

Your eyes eventually land on none other than your boss/agent/manager – whatever you want to call him, Kento Nanami.

He’s been there for you since day one, acting in whatever role he needs to be for you to succeed in the business. At his side are a few other men and women, nearly all familiar faces from the meetings you’ve had or profile pictures, courtesy of their email accounts.

You approach the group with your hands folded neatly in front of you, trying to discretely rub away the clammy texture of your palms. Handshakes are inevitable, so you might as well be prepared now.

The blond calls out your name as you step closer, “Glad you could make it, we’re almost ready to begin.” His face remains calm, appearing professional as ever, but there’s a hint of a smile surfacing at the edges of his lips.

One of the men in the group stretches his hand out for what you’ve been expecting, and you cautiously oblige. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person,” he states with your name punctuating his words. “I’m Masamichi Yaga, Satoru’s manager. We’re looking forward to working with you today.”

You have to say, while he seemed overly serious and admittedly scary online, and even now in person with his rigid stature, it’s different up close. Seeing him here, shows you that – while serious, yes, there’s a friendly undertone to the man. A panda, one might compare him to. Still classified as a bear with the claws to show for it, but one you could hug and come out unscathed.

You manage to get your words across through shaky breaths, a semblance of your composure, “Thank you, the pleasure is all mine.”

“Satoru hasn’t arrived yet, but you should go and get started with the makeup artist,” Kento informs you. There’s a disgruntled tone in his voice at the mention of the model, and it reminds you of how he sounded during that meeting you were late for at the start of this all.

It’s not often you hear your boss annoyed with someone; another reason you feel lucky to work under him. He’s always fair to you and others, and never the type to berate his fellow employees. Overtime is few and far, one that he has little tolerance for.

“Right away, Mr. Nanami.” You bow to the group, taking your leave with an anxious strut. Once you’re far enough way, you let out the breath you’ve been holding, regaining yourself with a quick calming exercise.

Getting your hair and everything done happens to be one of your favorite parts of modeling. Your biggest task is merely to sit in a chair in silence, letting the artists work you from a blank canvas to a completed piece.

What could be better for someone socially inept?

This wasn’t the usual artist that does your work, so either they’re with the partner agency or some other sponsor judging by the matching brands in their setup. You’re tense as they work, eyes closed and all, with a sense of dread bubbling in your gut.

A pat on your shoulder startles you after some time, jolting you in your seat much to the artist’s dismay. “Hey there! You must be Nanamin’s protégé,” he chirps while bright blue eyes stare eagerly into yours, piercing what feels like straight to your soul.

“Protégé?” you question with a meek sounding tone.

He doesn’t satiate your curiosity on the matter, instead opting to introduce himself, “I’m Satoru, it’s nice to meet you.” The man smiles, taking a seat in the chair next to yours confidently.

“Likewise, looking forward to working with you,” you respond, your eyes unmoving from his direction.

His makeup artist comes over and begins their work, though there’s not much of anything that needs to be done, given how naturally blessed he is in the looks department. There’s not a single speck or blemish that tarnishes his skin, so the most he gets are a few highlights here and there and something to add a bit of a sparkle around his celestial bodies for eyes.

It wouldn’t surprise you if each had their own name depending on his level of vanity. Perhaps Sirius and Regulus would be most suited for him, in your opinion.

Then again, you can also name about four other blue-burning stars off the top of your head. But, since only two lie in front of you, you’ll just have to go with the ones that outshine the rest.

It haunts you that one of your first thoughts meeting him is one built on envy – annoyed that you feel the need to compare your appearance to him. There are a dozen reasons you chose to become a model, none of which involved the crippling self-loathing that comes when it starts to feel like a competition.

May the prettiest one win, some might say.

You wonder that if in another life, if you were born with all the features you desire and deem attractive, if you would be better off. Able to live life without fear of not being enough, never having to second guess yourself in the mirror you so wish to send your fist through on a daily basis.

Would you be happy then?

Would you finally be loved?

Suddenly, your vision meets cyan once more. Shit, how long have you been staring?

“You ever been on a magazine cover before?” he asks, oblivious to the turmoil you face in your head.

Of course not. “No, I haven’t. This is my first time.”

He makes a noncommittal hum in response, and you feel his gaze turning intrusive by the second. Not in a creepy way – no, more like he’s reading you, thinking hard about something unknown to you. “That’s surprising for a protégé of Nanamin… What do you normally do then?”

You aren’t sure whether to question his continuous use of that nickname for your boss or why he believes you to be some apprentice to him, but for now you choose to ignore it, answering, “Commercial modeling, but I do more marketing than anything, really.” Your tone makes it appear as though it’s unimpressive, and sometimes you do feel that way. “More ‘behind the scenes’ work.” You add, shrugging nonchalantly after.

“Wait till this magazine drops, you’ll be getting this many new calls,” he drawls with a show of his hands to emphasize his point.

Your eyes drift away with a subtle roll to them. Yeah, we’ll see about that.

Of the many reasons you became a model, fame and fortune were never the goal either. Sure, being popular enough to maintain a stable influx of opportunities is favorable, but you don’t desire runway status. Cheers to the ones that do want it, but that isn’t you.

Satoru doesn’t push more conversation after. In fact, about a minute later he’s up and out of the chair, all finished with the minimal detailing necessary to make his features pop.

Your artist continues their work for a while after, with a hair stylist now with you as well, and only then were you permitted to finally go and get changed in one of the areas provided for the models.

Of everything today has had to offer so far, the scariest bit has to be the clothing rack, by far. As expected of a high fashion company, what lies on the hangers are nothing short of expensive. One piece of fabric alone costs about as much as a few months’ worth of rent, if that.

You were fitted into the first of several outfits to come, terrified the whole way through if something were to potentially rip and have to come out of your own pocket as punishment. While that’s never happened, there’s a first time for everything. Please don’t be today.

On the way out of the room, you make it your forefront thought to avoid the mirror calling out to you like a siren lulling you to your demise. All it would take is one look to have you ensnared, or rather petrified.Turned to stone by your gaze alone, picking apart every little detail to ruin whatever façade you try and hold for the cameras that await.

Satoru is already at the fountain when you arrive, waving as you fall into his orbital pull. His signature sunglasses do little to hide the glimmer of light behind them, but the smile plastered across his face burns equally bright to compensate anyways.

“Don’t you look nice?” he muses, letting his shades fall further down the bridge of his nose while his head angles down. “That outfit suits you quite a bit.”

Under normal circumstances, a blush might try to form along your face. Maybe if it was Toji –but then we’d be getting off track. The main feeling that plagues you in this moment is that of being out of place; a rock amidst a pile of a perfectly cut diamonds.

Pluto, blending in amongst the other eight planets, yet still shunned if we’re keeping to celestial themes.

At best, you might compare to an opalite crystal. Pretty – yes, but ultimately glass at the end of the day. Your hues can be manipulated, carefully crafted to ascertain a certain degree of beauty. But all it takes is one wrong move to scratch or shatter you and then all that effort was for naught.

A pile of shards no more worthy than dust.

“Nanamin!” The man in front of you bellows out with joy, snapping you from your solemn reverie. He throws his arm over the blond’s shoulders in a casual manner, eliciting a groan from the latter. “It’s been too long! Why don’t you come around more often?”

“It’s been one week, Gojo.” His response is monotone, and his arms are kept folded in front of his chest as he tries to maintain an air of indifference.

“Aww, come on, don’t be like that.” Satoru visibly frowns, puffing out his cheeks.

Choosing to ignore more of his bantering, Kento’s attention turns to you while simultaneously addressing the other, “If you’re both ready, we can get started.”

The moment of truth.

You give him a thumbs up and a forced smile better described as a fine line. Kento shrugs himself off Satoru, stepping close enough to place a hand over your shoulder with a reassuring grip. “Try to relax, and do your best,” he nearly whispers with a fatherly tone melding within his words, “You’re more than ready for this.”

And with that, the photoshoot officially begins.

With a few calming breaths later and those words of assurance playing back in your head, your façade is up and at the ready the moment the cameras start flashing.

Pose after pose, you work in tangent with Satoru while the crew fires off their instructions for the perfect photos. His playfulness is still apparent ─ albeit reigned in. It’s now more in a way that comes across as him wanting to get a reaction out of you. Like he knows you have a proverbial mask on, playing it off as stoicism. Maybe those eyes see more than you realize.

Of course he’s not only good looking, but an exceptional model to match. He doesn’t need to try so hard to give the people what they want. Compliments are showered upon him, yet narcissism doesn’t appear to be a high point in his personality when it all-too-easily could.

Rather, he seems more uncaring to the simple words of praise. Finding more joy in doing whatever feels best in the moment with unrivaled confidence.

You don’t mean to sound bitter and cold. Jealousy just so happens to be an emotion so deeply rooted that if you try to pry it away, it would be no different than grasping a bed of thorns with the palms of your hands. A weed that you can never fully eradicate.

All you want is to feel happy ─ pretty, not so much wanted as a desire to be enough.

It’s easy to be affected by the words of others. For every bit of kindhearted justification you hear, it’s one step towards helping you be able to tell yourself the same things. To get to a point where you can finally feel satisfied with yourself. To never have to ask if you’re even worthy of being alive when you feel so lacking.

That’s why when the cameras come on, you envision exactly what it is you so desperately wish to be. A picture speaks a thousand words. If so, then you hope the ones from today tell the story you dream about in your head each night as you drift away to sleep.

Modeling for you was always about finding that confidence in yourself. To see yourself in the eyes of others, proving that by having this title in life, you can make it a reality that perhaps yes, you are pretty.

You can be anything and everything you want to be.

The action carries on throughout the day with intermittent breaks in between outfit changes and other touchups to your hair and makeup. You have your moments of conversation with the marketing team and crew, sometimes making more effort to discuss what needs to be done over actually utilizing the short bit of time to rest and recoup.

Contrary to what might be popular belief, as a model ─ you aren’t there to stand and look pretty for the cameras. You’re not there to stand for a total of five minutes and then go home rich. It’s dedication and hard work to present the perfect image of yourself for the rest of the world to see.

You may be there waging one-sided wars in your head the entire time, but you still put your all into what you do. Perfection is a journey with an impossible destination, but nevertheless, it’s still the path you’ll traverse.

At the end of the day when the skies morph into a lovely collage of orange and pink hues and the final few photos are taken, you return to the dressing room to shed the covers of imitated beauty. Before that happens, you make the mistake of letting the mirror pull you in, too exhausted to otherwise fight the Damocles sword that hangs right there waiting.

The reflection in the glass is indeed you, but at the same time it’s not. A stranger in your own skin. More likely what the cameras outside were capturing away. The performance you gave that stemmed from a number of fantasies for all the “what if?” life scenarios.

She’s beautiful, you think, admiring the glow of her skin from the sheen of sweat.

Like lipstick on a pig, another half of you cackles, burning holes in all your self-deemed imperfections.

The makeup’s not bad like you originally thought it might be, but it’s also not your usual preference, and greatly overdone. Almost like an attempt to paint you anew. A coverup to an already stained canvas.

Nothing you do is ever enough to vanquish the perpetual tempest that encircles your mind, trapping you beneath torrential thoughts of insecurities. Telling yourself in the mirror you’re pretty doesn’t do anything either, not when you can’t bring yourself to believe it. To you, that’s just one big lie and you can’t stand liars.

It’s even worse when the clothes come off and it’s now just you in your natural form. A cruel reminder to the lengths you have to go to feel redeemable. Even if you told yourself earlier that luxury isn’t you, it sure does a good job at making you feel like someone you’re not. Sometimes that’s a refreshing change.

You eventually finish changing back into the clothes you arrived in, exiting the room with your phone in hand. Your sanctuary awaits, and you’re more than ready to get back to the only place you find solace in. You’re quickly reminded that fate is a fickle thing, always weaving you in a web of red string when you hear the calling of your name. The sound draws your attention upwards to the ever-cheerful man skipping your way.

“Yo!” Satoru waves to you gleefully. “What do you think about going out to celebrate our first gig together over some drinks?” he inquires with expectant eyes that border on looks a puppy might give.

Confusion bubbles up, mixing with your avoidant nature to make a cocktail poisonous only to you if you allow it. Why would someone like him want to go out with someone like you?

“That’s okay, I’m sure you must be tired after today,” is what you respond with. Not a total lie, but it gives you a way out even if it means drinking from the tainted cup of emotions.

“Nonsense, I could keep going for hours!” he refutes with never faltering amusement. “Think about it!” he further begs, with the front of his hands pressed together. “I invited some others too, so it’ll be a whole group of fun!”

Why did I even agree to this…

You’ve been following slightly behind Satoru for several blocks on aching feet from a day of standing in heels. Trying to keep up with his long-legged strides proves difficult, but not impossible. The sunset skies have dimmed, now replaced by the neon lights of the downtown area. It has its beauty, but it can’t compare to the lights of the natural sky.

He stops abruptly in front of a brick building, almost causing you to crash into him. “We’re here!” he cheers, all while you’re immediately taken aback by the sign hanging above the doorway: Star Plasma.

Toji’s workplace.

Your neighbor’s been on your mind sporadically throughout the day. Between Kento’s words and that of Toji’s from the week prior, they’ve helped to keep you afloat in a river of self-loathing.

Inside the club, you’re met with various velvet-lined booths in every direction and a crowd of people filling the space. At the center lies a large, oval-shaped bar too swarmed with patrons to make out if Toji is among the ones working this very night.

The atmosphere and overall design of the place bear a resemblance to that of a strip club, although it lacks the trademark poles on stages deemed for entertainment. That section is occupied with instruments currently not in use. There are some other rooms in the back, but their designated uses remain unknown at this time.

“Over here!” Satoru calls out your name, reminding you of why you’re here to begin with.

He leads the way back to a booth where two others sit in waiting. One is man heavily adorned in ink from what you can make out. His long, silky black hair is half tied up in a bun that reveals the large piercings settled in his ears. The other is a woman with mid-length brown hair and familiar shades of purple beneath her eyes, evident of a lack of sleep you know all too well. She nestles a glass in her hand, its contents another mystery to you.

The two of them you recognize from posts on Satoru’s instagram, but anything more eludes you as their profiles are set to private.

Satoru scoots in next to the man and their lips greet each other. “Who’s your new friend?” The black-haired one questions, looking you over with a curious eye. You aren’t sure how to act, and thus are awkwardly standing at the edge of the booth.

“The model I was working with today,” Satoru introduces with a telling of your name. His hands raise to gesture to those at his side. “This is Suguru, my boyfriend, and our third wheel, Shoko!”

“Your third wheel wants another drink, Satoru,” she scoffs, flashing an empty glass in front of his face. “These are going on your tab for being late, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Satoru waves her off, placing his focus back on you. “What do you want to drink?”

“Oh, uh–“ Now you look even more awkward than before. “I’ve never had alcohol so I’m not sure…” Your voice lowers gradually by the end of your sentence.

The three look to you with equal levels of shock. “Leave it to me then!” He beams, pressing a fist to his chest. He slips out of the booth making his way to the bar.

You watch him leave before feeling a hand tugging at your wrist. “Come on, sit down!” Shoko beckons, urging you to sit at her side. You take her up on it, fidgeting with your hands underneath the table to ease the nerves. It’s been years at least since you last had a sit-down like this outside of work. How are you supposed to act?

“It’s nice to meet you,” Suguru breaks the ice with Shoko following in turn with the same greeting.

Your body involuntarily tenses up as you become aware to how their eyes are examining you. “Y-yeah, nice to meet you as well.”

“Satoru doesn’t typically invite coworkers out, have you two known each other for long?” the man interrogates, though his demeanor is rather friendly. If anything, there’s more of a protective hint to his words.

While shaking your head, you reply, “No, we just met earlier today.”

“Word of advice ─ run,” Shoko snickers, earning a disapproved glare from Suguru. “I’m kidding,” she follows up, drawing out her words playfully. “But seriously, don’t be afraid to tell him ‘no’ to anything you’re not comfortable with. He can be a lot to someone not used to him, but he means well.”

Now this is a perfect example of one of those girls you know you can rely on to have your back. You don’t have any issues with Satoru, but it still makes you happy to feel like someone’s looking out for you.

It wasn’t long after that Satoru returns, skillfully balancing several drinks in hand. Sake for Suguru, whiskey for Shoko, a very colorful ─ no doubt fruit flavored cocktail for himself given the smell, and lastly, a margarita for you. The group demands a small toast “To friendship!” Satoru remarks before your glasses all meet in the middle.

One by one, they each take sips from their respective cups while you’re more occupied with swirling the thin straw around your drink. The smell is…unique, more pungent than anything. If you close your eyes, it almost smells like lemonade which you can enjoy, until that first sip hits your tongue.

Then it’s just harsh and bitter instead of sour or sweet.

The three watch in earnest at your first step into the world of alcohol, remembering their own experiences while your face scrunches up in disgust. Shoko pats your back soothingly to help you through the coughing fit as it took everything in you to not gag and embarrass yourself.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the taste the more you drink,” Satoru muses. But honestly, how does anyone like this stuff, let alone to come back for more? “I invited Nanamin too, but he turned me down by saying he’s busy like always,” he adds with an obvious pouty face.

Shoko sighs, “Did you forget how much of a workaholic he is?”

“Speak for yourself, but you still came!” he retorts with a simpering smile.

She then points an accusative finger at him. “I’m not turning down alcohol, especially when you’re footing the bill.”

“Oh, is that right?” he sarcastically replies, “Don’t act like you don’t love us, Sho.”

“Even if Heaven and Earth turned upside down–“

“Now, now,” Suguru intervenes like that of a scolding mother. “Let’s not frighten off our new friend here.”

The two mumble apologies even though you can’t help the joy that bubbles up. Being a third or fourth wheel can have its issues at times ─ namely if you’re being excluded from the group ─ but sitting back and watching them banter away is plenty enjoyable for you.

One comment they made however caught your attention. “You guys know Mr. Nanami?”

“Sure do!” Satoru chirps, more than happy you asked. “The four of us went to school together and after graduation, Nanamin and I ended up in the modeling business. It wasn’t until a few years ago he decided to take up a managing role. Not sure why, he was doing just fine.” He shrugs.

Disbelief hits you like a high-tide wave. “He was a model?”

“You didn’t know?” Your question apparently astonishes him. He pulls his phone out, swiping through it a few times before passing it to you from across the table. “I’m surprised you didn’t know, what with you being his protégé and all.”

“I don’t know about protégé, but…” your voice trails off as you examine the pictures. Sure enough, these photos are indeed your boss, varying from tourism magazines to modeling business suits from highly reputable designers.

The notion that he was a model isn’t farfetched; it’s a thought that’s crossed your mind a dozen times given his handsome looks. Having the confirmation now with physical proof to back it up has your mouth held agape at the newfound information.

“He never mentioned any of this to me before,” you murmur.

“I’m not shocked,” Suguru chimes in. “Kento’s always been more reserved when it comes to himself.”

“Are you two in the industry as well?” You direct your question to Suguru and Shoko who look back with raised eyebrows that border on amusement.

Satoru decides to be the one to answer in place, “Nope! Suguru here is a tattoo artist, and Shoko’s a doctor.”

Suddenly, the plethora of tattoos make a whole lot more sense. That, and Shoko’s eyebags. Your eyes wander to the art you can see around the revealed sections of the upper half of his body. They range from subtle beauty to grotesque in nature, the majority being creatures straight out of folklore but more imaginative ─ the product of nightmares, more or less.

The trail of ink stops just short of his jawline, but that alone leads into how he styles himself with piercings. There are the obvious black pearls on the lobes, but he also has one right through his eyebrow. As he speaks, there’s even a glint of one on his tongue and who knows where else.

“Like what you see?” Suguru purrs and your eyes snap up to meet his golden-brown gaze. He tries to show off more from his arms, as much as his current clothes will allow, and your favorite might have to be the rainbow dragon stretching from his neck to somewhere beneath his shirt.

You retreat to your drink, only for the bitter taste to remind you of its existence. “Y-yeah, they look really nice,” you tell him with the hint of a blush.

Shoko takes to lightly smacking his shoulder, falling into the effects alcohol has to offer. “Looks like you finally found a fan of your twisted style, Suguru.”

“Hey, what about me?” Satoru frowns, wanting some of his own attention from you. “What did you think about today? Those clothes were great, huh? I might have to buy some for later.”

Your eyes can’t help but fall to your lap as the memory resurfaces of your earlier turmoil. You’ll admit that it went better than expected, and you’re glad it’s over with now, but as always, you’re left to deal with the aftermath of the storm.

“You looked amazing!” You exclaim, and you’re not at all lying. “Perfect for the magazine.” Him, not you.

“Right? I loved that outfit you had on–“

Satoru continues to talk but there’s a buzz that forms in your ears, separate from the music of the club that keeps you from understanding anything other than your own mind. It feels as though your stomach is being twisted into knots and the earlier tension hits you in full once again.

You still don’t understand why they wanted you so bad for this, and to pair you up with such a highly regarded model.

Your follower count is nothing close to his; you’re practically a nobody. It could have been done out of pity, those two are friends after all. Maybe it could’ve been a way to shame you, to prove to you that–

“Helloooo?”

“Huh? Sorry?”

“There you are, almost thought the alcohol finally started to get to you.” Satoru smirks, leaning back in his seat. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna go use the restroom.” You force a smile as you stand, picking a random direction to walk in. “I’ll be right back!”

Your back’s turned before they even have a chance to respond. It took a bit of searching, but eventually you found the bathroom, slipping your way inside. You can’t help but idle in front of the mirror, staring at yourself in the reflection. There are some stray hairs to tame and running makeup to fix, but all in all, you aren’t sure what else you have left to feel.

It's likely all the lack of sleep is finally catching up on you. Being overly exhausted never does any favors as the tired mind can be quite cruel, hence you teetering on the edge of breaking down in tears.

At least when you return home to Tsumiki you’ll feel better. Your sweet little girl that helps give you a reason to keep going despite it all. The earnings from this photoshoot will do nicely in affording some fresh new toys to pamper her with, and you find yourself growing impatient to see her.

You leave the bathroom with a more freshened mind and a goal in sight, but you’re stopped short of your return to the booth when your name is called in a familiar baritone tune. Its source ─ your one and only neighbor, perched over the counter, shining away at some crystal.

“Hi Toji,” you greet, coming up to the empty barstool in front of him. “I didn’t know you were working tonight.”

You also didn’t expect to see how polished he looks while on the job. Here, you find him in black dress pants, a white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, some silver hardware, and half his bangs smoothed back. If it weren’t for him being behind the counter all dolled, you’d peg him as a bouncer the way his muscles are straining.

“Should’ve told me you wanted to come by, I’d have offered a ride.”

“Oh, I’m actually with a group right now.” You look towards your booth where Satoru has his hands in the air, wildly gesturing for whatever they’re conversing about.

Toji follows your eyes with recognition. “Ah, that kid,” he teases, acting as if he’s not right there in age with all of you. “Had me make that unicorn jungle juice shit for him. How he’s not overdosing on sugar is beyond me.” He rolls his eyes before meeting yours once again.

His quick-witted tongue leaves you giggling, proving to be just what you needed to relax. “Yeah, he invited me here after we finished that photoshoot I mentioned before, and I couldn’t exactly say no, so…here I am.” You laugh again, but it’s a tad bit dry, given your state of exhaustion.

Looking at him now after the day you’ve had, you find it far too easy to get lost in his green gaze. While there’s no good star you could compare them to, the Earth around you is all you need. From luscious forests to precious metals, jades and emeralds might be the best metaphors. Malachite on the other hand offers a uniqueness suited for this one-of-a-kind man.

They scan you intently, bordering on the same look a Nikon camera offers. A shutter comes in the form of blinks, capturing you to store away in his memory for as long as he can.

“That was today, huh?” He pauses, green ripples softening as pools of black spread outwards. “How’d it go?”

Words are lost on you as you try and piece together what to tell him. A small sliver of you wants to be honest when he’s proven to be a good listener, but you also think he gets enough of that on the job.

“It was…good? Busy, mostly,” you reply, keeping it short and sweet. You can’t imagine how many drunkards come spilling their guts, expecting him to act as their therapist. You don’t want to bring any unnecessary stress to him when he’s trying to pay the bills like anyone else.

“Yeah?” Another patron interrupts before he can continue, forcing Toji to make his order, but not without some cursing spilling from under his breath. When he returns to you, he loses that tension, leaning his forearms against the counter. “You know, I almost didn’t recognize you at first when you were walkin’ by.”

“Because of all the makeup, I guess?” you huff, “Yeah, it’s bad–“

“It’s good,” he cuts you off mid-sentence and you feel your breath hitch. “Different than your usual, but not bad. Not like you need all that to begin with,” he continues without so much as missing a beat, leading you suck your lips inwards in a coy manner.

Toji looks satisfied as he flashes you a pearly white canine beneath his crooked grin. “I take it you’re celebrating then, what did that brat get for you?”

You chuckle at his feigned hostility towards Satoru, knowing full well he’s only kidding around. “I think he said it’s a margarita. I’m not sure though, it’s my first-time drinking.”

His reaction is a lot less surprised than the other three. “How do you like it?”

You snort, “Not great, if I’m being honest. I don’t know how anyone can stomach it.”

“Tell me about it,” he scoffs, raising a hand to gesture in disbelief before dropping it back to the counter with a small thud. “Can’t stand that shit.”

“Huh?” You stare at him, taken aback.

He raises an eyebrow at you in response. “What?”

“Nothing,” you breathe. “Just wondering why you’re a bartender if you hate alcohol that much.”

“Gotta pay the bills somehow, doll.” He winks, the smirk of his returning for a hot second. “If you want, I can make you somethin’ that’s easier to swallow?”

You’re hesitant, but ultimately willing to trust the man and give it a go. “Sure, I’d like that.”

Toji now has a goal in mind to impress you, making this worth your while so that maybe you’ll come back another night.

He reaches under the bar, pulling out an assortment of supplies, gauging what he knows of you to make the perfect drink. You can’t help but be mesmerized by how he mixes everything, verging on being a showoff about it too, but overall similar to how a hibachi grill might perform for patrons.

The difference is, this one is all for you, made special by him.

He empties the contents into a tall, narrow glass, topping it off with a tiny umbrella of your favorite color and a few extra slices of your favorite fruit along the rim. “Enjoy, sweetheart.” He winks again, sliding the liquid potion your way with deft fingers. His confidence is apparent, believing in his skills.

The suddenness of hearing “sweetheart” from the man no doubt has your face feeling warm, complimented by the color of the drink. There’s still some hesitation as you lift it to your mouth, but after one taste, you admit that it’s not so bad ─ better even, compared to the previous concoction. Any tinge of alcohol your palate detects is washed away thanks to the fruity aftertaste and whatever else he threw in.

“So?” he drawls, eager to hear what he already knows is sweet victory.

“It’s…good, I like it, actually,” you tell him with a smile, enjoying another sip after. “What do I owe you for it?”

“For you?” He leans closer, his grin widening. “On the house. Don’t worry about cost tonight.”

“Toji, you cannot keep doing this for me!” you argue, attempting to pull out your wallet when his hand stops you right in your tracks.

“Too bad,” his voice drops to a smooth, gravely tone. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing. “It’s my treat for your celebration,” he chuckles.

You pout. “You’re going to have to let me treat you sometime, you know.” At this rate, you’re going to have to start keeping a list for everything you wish to pay him back for since he won’t ever let you win.

As good of a feeling as it is to be pampered like this, you also don’t want to keep burdening him. It doesn’t matter if he’s the one always offering his kindness, you don’t want him to feel like he has to ─ that you’re not capable of doing this for yourself. 

“Your presence is enough of a treat,” he reassures, “The kid would agree with me.”

In a way, that sounds like Toji actually enjoys spending time with you. In reality, that is exactly what he said, but the thought of someone like him and even his son wantingsomeone like you around is nearly impossible to fathom. Unless of course this is the alcohol already taking affect on your processing and hearing…

Your presence is a treat.

You are wanted.

…That’s what he said.

“Toji! Come here for a sec!” a younger employee at the other end of the bar calls out, earning a grunt from the one in front of you.

“Shit, guess fun time’s over,” he huffs. “If you need anythin’ else, you know where to find me, pretty girl.”

“Thanks, Toji.” You grin appreciatively. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Oh, hey,” he calls out your name as step off from your seat. “Tell me when you’re leavin’, okay? I’ll drive you home.”

You nod in return as you take your leave back to the booth. The trio keeps their eyes on you like ravenous hyenas as you settle back in.

“Soooo,” Satoru drawls with a cheshire grin growing wider by the second. “You wanna tell us what that was about?”

“What?” you question, oblivious to what he means.

“You and the bartender?” he snickers, “The two of you were lookin’ pretty friendly together.”

Shoko scoots closer, noticeably more relaxed and swaying. Her arm wraps around your shoulder, failing an attempt with whispering in your ear, “If you see an opportunity, take it! I can see the heart eyes from here.” Her eyebrows wiggle with a knowing look.

“I-It’s not like that!” you stammer. But is it really? Oh, who are you kidding. It’s becoming harder and harder to deny that you aren’t feeling something for your neighbor. “We live next-door to each other is all,” you mumble, feeling coy.

“Ooh, neighbors to lovers?” Satoru’s gaze inadvertently meets Toji’s from afar before drifting back to yours all full of smug. “Can’t blame you, he is a looker.”

“Satoru.” His teasing laugh turns into a fake yelp when the back of Suguru’s hand meets his chest to reprimand him.

“What, am I wrong? He’s not as good looking as you though, Sugu,” he purrs, lowering his head to the man, bringing a kiss to his cheeks.

“That’s better,” Suguru remarks, casually sipping on his sake.

“Alright, cool it, lover boys,” Shoko sighs, silencing them. She leans her head in your direction, trying to get a better look at the face you’re trying oh so hard to hide. She brushes a few hairs hiding your eyes and you see her own that hold the look of a hungry predator, itching to pounce and sink her teeth into something juicy. In this case ─ your love life. “Tell us everything.” She enunciates each syllable, growing impatient by the second.

“Well…”

☆ Notes: damn the updated version of this is way more fucking depressing LOL I couldn’t help myself but hey, I have PLANS

I guess now would be a good time for me to point out ages so reader would be really early 20s, sashisho + kento and all them mid 20s and then toji just a smidge older, but not too late in the 20s. I just don’t feel like putting established ages on anyone besides the kids since that matters for whatever grade they’re in (ignoring how 6 year old/1st grader megumi is already super independent and talkative)

Originally, I gave Suguru a scar tattoo on his forehead for obvious reasons (not that he is or ever was kenjaku in the OG), but in the restructured version I decided to retcon that bit. I like the idea I see people do instead with kenjaku as an evil twin, but idk if I’ll make that a plot point at this time.

as far as his other tattoos go, i like to imagine it's all styled after the cursed spirits he absorbs in an ukiyo-e style!

[maybe-arts]

To Chiffon, have you ever seen any weird looking butterflies?

"...Then again, now that I think about it, I did once heard Dad talking to a butterf-" "-CHIFFY!! I know you have an interview thing going on, but I did ask you to keep an eye on your sister while I'm getting snacks!!" "Oop, sorry! Are they okay?" "She's good, I caught up to her in time. Just was about to wander off chasing bugs again. Anyways, what were you talking about?" "...Eh. Some butterfly nonsense. It's probably nothing."

I guess it was nothing :)

sidenote about Nova's pronouns - they actually respond to any! Kirby, Mona and Gooey use they/them for Nova since Astrali, being genderless, pick their gender as they grow up, and using neutral for children is more or less a tradition. Tiff and Tuff use she/her for Nova because they think she's a girl. Polari and Hoodie use he/him for Nova for the same reason. Chiffon uses she/they for Nova since she's learned from Kirby and the Poppy siblings.

Asks are open! @kirbyoctournament

[melanie-the-artful]

Genshin Character Names' Meanings Pt.2

Well, since we've got an announcement of our crane mom Cloud Retainer (or it's Xianyun now, I guess) and Gaming (no, not gaming Gaming, but like Ga Ming Gaming, you see), I thought it would be a great reason to sit down and make a compilation of all Liyue characters' names. Once again, I'll be glad if you tell me whether there are some mistakes, and have fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xiangling | From Chinese 香 (xiāng) meaning «Fragrant» and 菱 (líng) meaning «Water Caltrop» - Chinese Name

Xingqiu | From Chinese 行 (xíng) meaning «Carry Out», «Execute» or «Travel» and 秋 (qiū) meaning «Autumn» - Chinese Name 

Chongyun | From Chinese 重 (chóng) meaning «Layer» and 雲, 云 (yún) meaning «Cloud» - Chinese Name 

Hu Tao | Hu (胡, her surname) can mean «Doing things out of order or recklessly»; it's also present in «Butterfly» (蝴) and Tao (桃) is «Peach Tree» in Chinese, associated with longevity, immortality, and a sacred object - Chinese Surname and Name

Qiqi | From 七 (qī) meaning «Seven» - Chinese Name 

Baizhu | From Chinese 白 (b��i) meaning «White», «Pure» and 朮, 术 (zhú) meaning «Glutinous Millet» - Chinese Name 

Yaoyao | From 瑶 (yáo) meaning «Jade», «Precious Stone» or «Beautiful» - Chinese Name

Yanfei | From Chinese 烟 (yàn) meaning «Smoke», «Vapor» and 绯 (fēi) which is for «Crimson», «Scarlet» - Chinese Name 

Yelan | Literally «Night Orchid» in Chinese

Beidou | Named after the Big Dipper asterism, which is known in Chinese as 北斗 (Běidǒu). The name literally means «Northern Dipper». Interesting how it is also referred to as 北斗七星 (Běidǒu Qīxīng), lit. "Seven Stars of the Big Dipper" in Chinese. The North Star, Polaris, is located within this asterism and is used by sailors to navigate at sea. Yes, the name of the organization Qixing also consists of the same hieroglyphs, and the titles of the members of the Qixing are the same as the Chinese names for the stars in the Big Dipper

Xinyan | From 辛 (xīn) which is «Spicy» and 焱 (yàn) meaning «Fire», «Flame» - Chinese Name 

Yun Jin | Yun (云) means «Cloud», and Jin (堇) means «Violet (plant)» - Chinese Surname and Name

Gaming | From 嘉 (jiā) «Praise», «Joyful» or «Auspicious» and 明 (míng) meaning «Bright», «Clear-sighted» or «Honest» - Chinese Name

Xiao | 魈 (Xiāo), which derived from a chinese legend "魑魅魍魉” in which there is a group of demons. although its mainly four demons

Alatus | Literally «Winged» in Latin

Shenhe | Most likely from 申 (shēn) meaning «State» and 鹤 (hè) meaning «Crane» - Chinese Name 

Xianyun | 闲云 (xián yún), comes from a four word idiom 闲云野鹤 - «Drifting clouds and wild crane» It means people who are footloose and fancy-free

Ganyu | From Chinese 甘 (gān) meaning «Sweet» and 雨 (yǔ) meaning «Rain» - Chinese Name 

Keqing | From 刻 (kè) «To Carve» and «Clear/Sunny» (qíng) - Chinese Name

Ningguang | Literally «Frozen Light» or «Concentrated Light» in Chinese

Zhongli | 钟 (zhōng) translates to clock and 離, 离 (lí) - «To leave», yet together they form 送钟 (sòng zhōng /song jong), which sounds exactly like the Chinese words for «Attending a funeral ritual» (送终 -sòng zhōng) and thus it is bad luck to gift clocks or watches - Chinese Name (and an interesting game of words)

Morax | Comes from Duke and Governor Morax, the 21st of Goetia Demons 

Ping | 萍 (píng), means «Tender», «Natural» and «Friendly» - Chinese Name

Guizhong | From Chinese 歸, 归 (guī) meaning «To return» and 終, 终 (zhōng) meaning «To end» - Chinese Name 

Osial | May be a portmanteau of Ose, the 57th of Goetia Demons

Beisht | Is likely derived from the Beisht Kione Dhoo (Manx: "Beast With the Black Head"), a creature from Isle of Man folklore, where "Beisht" means «Beast» or «Worm» in Manx.

Marchosias | Comes from Marquis Marchosias, the 35th of Goetia Demons

Havria | Could possibly be a form of Havres, another name of the 64th of Goetia Demons, Duke Flauros.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phew, that was probably the hardest one. There is still Inazuma up ahead, yet I at least have some knowledge in Japanese, while with Chinese names I had to look up every single one (I mean, I will double-check Inazuman names of course, it's just that I'm more sure about the meanings of some of them).

'Till next time!

[acupofqueercoffee]

“Offer me the deathless death”

Andromache the Scythian x Female Reader

request ( found here ) by @nightly-polaris

|･ω･) go wild, you said and go wild, i did. i included as much of the provided details as i could. hopefully, you’ll find it agreeable

cw : 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ // dubcon-ish // ✂️ ✂️😼 // overstimulation

casually quoting hozier for all my andromache fics. that fight scene on the plane and the way she grabbed nile by the jaw tho 😩 wanted to incorporate it in a fic ever since i saw it, and fucking finally did

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Hallucinations. A fever dream.

Anything but reality is what you tell yourself, and what a job you have been doing thus far! Fantastically foolish if nothing else. Cocooned in a bubble of lies that spill forth none other than your lips, and illusions that are carved by your very mind itself, you harbour not a droplet of doubt that the reality in front of your eyes is nothing but bona fide.

People after all are the most masterful at fooling themselves.

Ensnared in a web of deceit weaved by your fingers lie no hapless preys, but you, yourself, who revel in the sweet taste of false security as you do in the richness of the creamy warm chocolate drink that coats your tongue.

Even though business in your shop today is notably satisfactory if not the most profitable, it is not the digits that matter to you the most. Your little shop is borne purely out of your profound passion and desire; obligation is out of the picture. It is where you feel the most at home, doing what you love while bathed in the aroma of freshly ground coffee and cocoa.

Amidst brewing a cup of americano as per the order of a customer with stylish sun-glasses and a striking jawline, your dress is accidentally soiled. Little do you know, the scatter of black and bitter constellations along the pristine white of your sleeve is merely the dawn of a darker, more bitter happening.

──────── ༻✿༺ ────────

Finding you has been relatively easy.

When the familiar dreams begin plaguing her usually dreamless nights, a telltale sign of a new immortal on the horizon, Andromache has half a mind to ignore them altogether. Had she not seen the places that stoke recognition amongst the wild tapestry of images, she certainly would have. But alas, her target, as it so happens, is no stranger to her. By no means does the Scythian know you. Nor you, the Scythian. New immortals bring together with them an assortment of risks, one of them being the exposure of their secret. It is with such knowledge in mind that Andromache feels obliged to set out for you despite her reluctance. You living in the neighbourhood of her temporary place of residence only makes the search all the more convenient.

Being a warrior for many a millennium has developed a vast array of tactical traits into personal trademarks. Those that once upon a time had had to be mindfully exercised, now occur as easily and effortlessly as breathing, involuntary more often than not. Beneath the dark shades of a spectacle perched on a well-defined slope of a nose lies a pair of sage green eyes, scanning the vicinity of wherever she goes like an eagle on a hunt. They have landed on it then, during her visit to a store, standing adjacent to it is a cafe in the name of “Trouvaille”. The Scythian is not one to be easily intrigued, but what a lie it would be to say that the charming building with its vintage air and curious name had not tickled her fancy. Or its owner whom she has noticed is all sweet smiles and dulcet eyes.

Eyes which she has only seen from afar then, now she stares directly into them. Protected by the shades, the intense greens study you with brazen openness, roaming all over your frame, from the tiny clips that decorate your cascading hair like colourful Christmas lights to the butterfly pendant that dangles from a simple silver chain, hovering directly above the dip of your throat, from the little flower prints on your dress, the skirt of which softly caresses your thighs, to occasional glimpse of seemingly soft flesh that teases the Scythian, left uncovered by a pair of white thigh-highs.

It is retrieving you that is the hard part.

Immediately upon arrival, Andromache has read your features for perhaps a trace of recognition. You paying the Scythian a visit in her dreams can only mean one thing after all: that she, too, must have appeared in yours. Yet, no widening of your eyes greet her, only a smile that does not waver.

“Hi, welcome to cafe Trouvaille. What can I get you?”

“Americano will do. Hot.”

Beside the fact that it is broad day light, a few people roam the place. As capable as Andromache is of manhandling you, it is not in her best interest to attract attention. The situation calls for patience. Rushing will spell only more trouble at best. Wait she must, and so, wait she does.

Leisurely, the Scythian sips her coffee, studying you periodically as she does so. It is after some minutes have ticked by, the cup of coffee sitting on the table, empty and cold, that she decides to fish a book, leather-bound and well-worn, out of her backpack. Thumbing through old pages, Andromache spends the better part of the wait indulging in literature, until one by one, people start trickling out of the shop.

In due time, it leaves only the Scythian and you.

The sky has taken on a deep orange hue by the time she stands to approach you. She eyes you surreptitiously, and upon confirming that she is not at the receiving end of your attention, the Scythian moves to lock the door. Ever the diligent wielder of caution, she does not forget to flip the little dangling plate. The letter “We’re closed.” that is carved into the wood will help ward off potential visitors.

Even as she walks towards the counter, you do not seem to notice her for you are kept occupied by the book in your lap, fingers busy scribbling onto paper. It is the tinkle of porcelain on marble as she drops the cup and saucer atop the counter that finally has your eyes zeroing in on her. She watches you watch her. Backdropped by the sunset with her shades finally tucked away into the pocket of her jacket, the sight of the Scythian brings about a subtle shift in your mien. Although fleeting, the furrow of your brows that must have been imperceptible to others, does not go unnoticed.

“Hello, again. I hope you’ve had a good time.”

The smile that you give her is sweet, if not the most genuine.

“Why don’t we save the pleasantries, hm?” The smile that touches her lips, in contrast, has a hint of sourness. “You’ve seen me before.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t believe I have.”

Your answer only brings about a twofold increase in the Scythian’s irritation. Judging by the slightest delay in your response, she knows that you are well aware that she has not meant it as a query, and so, she says as much.

“It wasn’t a question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have mistaken me for someone else.”

The adamant denial from you has strong, slender digits tightening around the strap that is slung over one shoulder.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you? You died, and then you woke up, saw a bunch of people you had never seen before in your dream, including me.”

“But, that was- No. Surely it was-.”

“Look, kid-” Forming into a thin line are Andromache’s lips as she takes a moment to compose herself, slowly huffing out an exhale through flared nostrils. “-I know you’ve got questions but I need you to come with me first.”

“No. No, I don’t think so. This isn’t real. None of this is real. Leave, please. I need you to leave.”

Lips that slowly curl into a smirk and a chuckle that comes out dark and dangerous. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice.”

Battered boots that come to rest just shy of polished loafers.

“You know…your folly is, dare i say, commendable. Reality is not just something you can rewrite, and yet, you managed an impeccable job of tricking yourself into thinking what you believe to be the truth is the truth.”

One foreboding frame that looms like a predator and the one that cowers like a cornered prey.

“Alas, I almost feel bad for shattering your little illusion. But then again, I’ve done a great many questionable things in my life having lived as long as I have. What significance would it make to add another?”

“What I saw in my dream. They really happened.” It is a question albeit not being voiced like one. The Scythian does not find the need to answer. Why bother when the answer already lies in your hand?

At her silence, a look of horror dawns on your features. “You’re a murderer. You and your friends. I’ve seen them. I- I’m not- I can’t.”

“Oh darling, a rose without thorns is but a weed, easy to be plucked, to be trampled on. You’re one of us now. You will come with me whether you like it or not, and you will do so this instant.”

Every single step you hesitantly take back is met with an immediate footfall of boots as they fall right onto the place that your loafers have just vacated. It goes like this for a while, you actively ruining the close proximity, and Andromache rectifying it, until there is nowhere for you to flee, and your hips collide with the counter edge.

“Why me?” She parries your plea with a nonchalant shrug, face impassive. “Beats me.”

“Please, I-” Tears glisten in your eyes, murmuring beseechingly. “Let me go. I can’t kill. I know nothing about fighting.”

While her hands grip the counter on either side of your waist to cage you in strong arms, her lips lower to the shell of your ear, breath warm as she speaks. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. You can kill. In fact, anyone can. You just have to listen to me.”

“No! Let me go! I don’t want-” Yells dissolve into a yelp by way of digits seizing your jaw.

“I’ve gone out of my way to exercise great forbearance, but it is running terribly thin. It would do you well not to try it any further.” She husks threateningly, feeling the softness of your cheeks giving under the roughness of her battle-hardened fingers. Salty droplets drench her digits as tears start spilling in rivulets down your cheeks.

“Go on, bite me with those baby teeth. Scratch me with your little paws.” She taunts. “Why, would you look at that! All bark and no bite. How pathetic.”

It is as she says this that your teeth sink into the palm that is pressed tightly against your mouth. The unexpected retaliation has her stance faltering, and although you manage to break free from her bodily confines, the Scythian, being far more nimble and dexterous, hardly has to break sweat in recapturing you.

“You're a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? Two can play that game, although don’t say I didn’t warn you. Breaking men, after all, is considered one of my fortes.”

Wrists locked behind your back in her iron grip, and body bent over the marble counter, Andromache revels in the quavering of your body beneath her own as one wicked hand, like a sneaky serpent, slowly slithers up your thigh.

“Are you-” A whimper flies past your lips when your arms are pulled taunt, shoulders craning uncomfortably. And then, she yanks, hard and unforgiving, until you are forced onto your feet, back colliding with her front. “Are you going to kill me?”

Andromache cannot help but laugh at your question, a rich throaty sound that brings about the erection of soft little hair on the nape of your neck.

Your wrists are released at the cost of your cheeks bearing the brunt of her ire as rough fingers dig into your flesh. They flee from their cage between the two of your bodies to take sanctuary on her forearm, soft fingers grasping the sleeve of her jacket. “Where’s the fun in killing you when I can just have my way with you, hm?” Her hold around one of your thighs remains unrelenting while the hand on your jaw coerces you into craning your neck. Your head rests on her chest with a grunt, and you drown, held spellbound by the intense green of her eyes. “I’d rather enjoy the view of you crumbling beneath me than watch you bleed out only to come alive again.”

Although it douses you in shame, you have to admit that you are not entirely immune to the woman. How can you when she oozes charisma, frighteningly beautiful even as she looms over you with all the grandeur of a great menacing panther.

And then, too many things happen all at once; fingers that crawl into a forest of hair to grab a fistful, with a yank to the side, a throat that is bared for the predator above to conveniently sink her teeth into, the frenzied little flutter of a pulse beneath the flat of a warm tongue, chocked sobs that dissolve into a strangled gasp as a cold hand journeys into the waistband of an underwear.

Previously, your hands have found home on her thighs, fingers grappling fabric, but upon feeling wandering digits inside your underwear, one of them flies towards the offending hand, locking around a wrist.

“N-no. You can’t.”

“You would do well to remember that I am in control here.”

The Scythian’s growl is not only heard, but also felt on your skin as teeth nibble, mouth suck, and lips soothe the stings that afterwards will linger on your body in the form of dark blues and bright reds.

Horror and humiliation dance a wild tango whereas fingers waltz delicately along your folds, a condescending tsk echoing off your nape when they come away wet. Betrayed and backstabbed by your own body, mortification colours your face as not one but two of her sizeable digits sink into your heat with little to no effort. Although sudden, it does not hurt, though it stings, leaves you breathless still. Dewdrops bloom on your lashes and they drop down your cheeks when fingers in your core bury knuckles deep, abuse your tightness. You feel them in the very depths of your body, filling you so deliciously that when they wiggle so much as a little, it is more than enough to sucker-punch a breath out of your lungs.

Between her hot mouth kissing your neck all rosy and sore, her fingers cleverly caressing your insides, and her hand toying with your breasts beneath your dress, it is no surprise that your undoing greets you with a tidal wave of pleasure.

It is, however, a surprise to find yourself being shoved back-first onto the table, legs being pulled wide by fingers twining round your thighs. You are still suffering through a series of aftershocks from your first orgasm when her mouth attaches itself to your quavering folds, that wicked tongue immediately slithering into your hole. It does a cruel little nudge and your fingers wind up entwined in her hair. Instead of a reproach, it is a hum of satisfaction that you earn as the Scythian grabs a handful of your buttocks and devour you like a starved man.

By the seventh one, you are well beyond exhausted, brain foggy courtesy of being fucked into oblivion, and body agonisingly sore, littered with deep hues and teeth marks. Somewhere between third and fourth, if you recall correctly, she has stripped you bare, bar your thigh-highs, and completely rid herself off clothes, magnificent muscles coming into display. You have ogled them with barely restrained awe until your attention is swayed elsewhere by her mouth leaving traces of herself all across the expanse of your body.

Now, once again, you marvel at them, entranced by the impressiveness of her muscles that ripple with every roll of her powerful hips.

You barely recognise the face that is staring right back at you, reflected in the surface of sea green eyes, or the sounds that are oozing out of your lips. Sweat clings to the forehead of the woman towering over you as it does to yours. One of your legs is slung over her shoulder, and the other lies limp and useless between her thighs, as she rubs herself into your core with wild abandon.

“I- I can’t. Too much. It’s too muc- ah!”

“Yes, you can.”

She has taken the hand that goes to rest on one of her hipbones only to weave her fingers with yours. Now, they hover in the air, tightly intertwined, suddenly made much tighter by the white knuckled grip of your hand.

“Slow- nghh please! Be gentle.”

“You do as I say. Not the other way round. Is that understood?”

The desperate nods of your head is met with a bite to the succulent inside of your thigh just above the brim of your sock.

“Answer me.”

“Yes!”

“My word shall be your command, and you will dance to my every desire, won’t you darling?”

“Yes! Yes, I will.”

“You are mine after all, aren’t you? Mine to do with what I please. Mine to use how I see fit. Don’t you agree?”

“I’m yours- ngh- all yours.”

“Good girl.” She moans, movements escalating from lazy strokes to untamed gyrations.

“Andy.” She rasps breathlessly. “I want to hear my name dripping down those pretty little lips when you fall apart.”

And hear she does. Andy. Andy. Andy. Andy. Her name is all you can cry out as your juices mingle with one another’s, the combined essence soiling your thigh-highs as well as the couch beneath you.

Back curving, toes curling, you soar high, high into heaven, swimming amongst clouds, drowning in euphoria. And then, you plummet, down into the pit of hell, down into another one of those little deathless deaths. An intense blinding white replaced by an absolute dark.

When you awake, it is to the heart-melting sensation of lips softly caressing your forehead. You find yourself on the same couch that you have passed out, cocooned in toned arms, face tucked snugly into a warm, musky throat. Reflexively, you begin nosing the soft underside of her jaw before you are startled by fingers wandering down your very naked thigh.

“Look at me.” Obediently, you oblige, reluctantly leaving the pleasant warmth of her neck to do what she desires.

“What have I told you?” All too delicately, or as delicately as the callouses on her hand will allow, the pad of a thumb grazes the apple of your cheek.

Fighting against the urge to slip your eyes shut, you sigh dreamily instead. “That as long as I remain a good obedient girl, no harm will befall me.”

“That’s right. And are you?”

A nod as an answer prompts a pat of a forefinger on your cheek, and then, another. You know what she wants, so you give her just that.

“I’m a good girl.”

Not only do you see the smirk on her face, but you also feel it on your skin as she leans down to drag her lips across yours. “You forgot to mention whose, darling.”

“I’m a good girl, Andy. Your good girl.”

“And will my good girl obey my every command like she had promised?”

“Mmhm.”

A breath catches in your throat as her lips journey down down down, admiring the traces of none other than herself until that ravenous mouth adjourn to your hip, sucking the tender spot on your hipbone to make it all the more vibrant.

Although it has not been the main purpose of her doing what she has done, it is without doubt that Andromache gets a sick sort of pleasure out of seeing you covered in her marks. Every inch of your body and soul, all irrevocably hers.

You have said it so yourself, willingly given yourself up to her. That being said, it is purely her own greed that has her craving more and more and more of you. The scent of you that is sinfully sweet, heady and uniquely yours, makes her ache. The sight of you, like the dewy petals of an exquisite flower, pretty and pulsating, makes her mouth water.

It is with this insatiable hunger swelling inside of her that the Scythian sinks to her knees between your luxuriously smooth thighs.

“One more, darling. Give me one more before we leave.”

And you do, oh how you do even as one bleeds into two and two into three, because a good girl does what she is taught, does she not? And you are a good girl, Andy’s sweet little good girl to do with what she will.

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[trivialbob]

Two of three dogs are sedated. The third is tired from chasing a monarch butterfly around the back yard. No worries, the orange and black insect got away safely.

Sheila is working late tonight. Instead of the ambulance, she and her partner have a Polaris Ranger UTV. It's like a baby ambulance. It even has flashing lights. They use it at parades and other events where the usual rig may be too large.

Tonight I'm going to finish the final season of Black Sails on Netflix. The pirate story is interesting. As I watch I keep thinking how awful everyone must smell. They're in the Bahamas, wearing heavy coats, long sleeve shirts and tall leather boots. The men are always filthy. And bruised, beat up, cut and concussed. There isn't any Old Spice, a washing machine or Band-Aids to be seen anywhere!

As I watch I'm going to enjoy this bottle of Surly East. It's a "Tiki-inspired barrel-aged strong ale with natural flavors added." It is part of my Christmas present from Sheila. She signed me up for Surly's quarterly special release beers. This one is #2. I have to wait a few more months before they release #3. I love these interesting beers and ales. Getting one every quarter is the gift that keeps on giving.

[k-marzolf]

Masterlist pt. 2

Masterlist part one.

Billy Russo;

Drabbles;

// Pretty // River // Alone Together // Mine // Kindred Spirits // Scruffy // the world was on fire // card sharp // I’m the girl that’s kickin’ the coke machine // coffee and trigger fingers // possession // rabbit // chilly days // the wolf and the rabbit // sugar lips // Moondust // blood // we all have a hunger // broken crown — #2 // Diet Mountain Dew // it’s strange what desire will make foolish people do // violets and baby’s breath // summertime, and the livin’s easy // our blood is burning // my lover’s got humor // I’m all I’ll ever be // you stood in my doorway // blood & butterflies // atom to atom // warmth // comfort if you need it // drops of Jupiter // tell me how I mesmerize you // domesticity // tease me, please me // dandelion fluff // the darkest little paradise // I’m just gonna call you mine // devotee // the fox // a quarter for a kiss // perditus // Diamastigosis // Insomniac // Penelope // Polaris // Safe // woods & witches // untamed // Heavy in your Arms // Ain’t that a kick in the head // Gunpowder & Stitches // Cherry - 02 // I want your love // Dandelion // From You The Flowers Grow // Northern Lights // Hair Rollers & Doritos. // the dogs life // bob the unicorn // unmannerly // I know you do voodoo // miss radish // vanilla // Blackberry // Your heart is true // Cassandra // For what’s left me behind // Make me your Maria // purple rain //

Yandere drabbles;

// teeth // walk on water just to kiss me //

Dark fics;

// you got me dancing in the dark // Natural //

Werepanther!Billy;

// Marked //

Thots;

// You’re his maid // Marine!Billy #1 // Marine!Billy #2 //

Rabbit Heart.

The Chain.

Monsters in the Dark

Imagine Being Loved By Me

Wicked Game

Ephemeral

Take Me To Church

[hotsuqueen]

Yamato Hotsuin's Record Breaker Dialogue - Kingmaker Ending

Strong Breaker dialogue

Sunday 12:00 Strong Breaker

Shinsekai Terminal

You arrive at the terminal with Daichi and the others…

Daichi: We're here… I-Is this really the place?

Hibiki Kuze: - Definitely. - Maybe not.

Definitely. Daichi: R-Right. I can't think of anywhere else. Man, it's like I've got a fleet of butterflies in my stomach!

Maybe not. Daichi: C-C'mon, don't say stuff like that! There's no other place we could think of…

Al Saiduq: We should have no problem here. Shining One, you brought the dragon, yes? Perfect. Now use the Dragon Stream to strengthen this terminal.

Hibiki Kuze: - And I do that by…? - I don't know how.

And I do that by…? Al Saiduq: I… don't know either.

I don't know how. Al Saiduq: Hm… I had not anticipated this possibility.

Io: Oh… that's a good question. How exactly are we supposed to enhance the terminal?

Al Saiduq: Hm… At the Metropolitan Building, it became small because the Shining One wished it so. Why not focus your will in the same manner now?

Daichi: What? That's just ridiculous.

Hibiki Kuze: - That's it! - Let's give it a try.

Daichi: You're going ahead with this? Well… I guess it can't hurt to try.

Al Saiduq: Now, Shining One… test the power of the Dragon Stream.

Hibiki Kuze: - Alright. - Shrinky-shrinky!

Shrinky-shrinky! Al Saiduq: I believe it is already small enough… Must I re-adjust my perspective? Oh, I see, this is a joke, yes? Haha! How interesting.

Daichi: Huh…? Whooooaaa!

Io: Oh my… The entire room's changed!

Al Saiduq: Amazing. What powers of potential.

Jungo: Is someone there?

Yamato: …Well done. I knew you'd accomplish this.

Hibiki Kuze: - Thanks! - What're you doing here?

Thanks! Yamato: Yes, I had high expectations for you. Unfortunately, you chose to side with that man.

What're you doing here? Yamato: I had high expectations of you. I did not expect you to side with him.

Yamato: The time for talk has passed. You must all die here, and I shall take control!

Daichi: Th-This is insane! Do you think we're just gonna let you do that!?

Hinako: Right! We worked so hard for this! You think we'll just hand it over!?

Al Saiduq: Yamato Hotsuin. It is a pity we must do battle, but I will keep my vow to the Shining One.

Hibiki Kuze: - Let's do this! - Careful, everybody!

Daichi: A-Argh! We'll show you what the trash civilians ca d--Argh! I bit my tongue! D-Dammit, ow… Okay, l--letsh go, guysh!

Mid-battle, first turn: Yamato: Pathetic… Did you think I would come here without making plans in advance?

Al Saiduq: What…!? What is the meaning of this, Yamato Hotsuin?

Yamato: Hahaha! You'll come to understand when you die!

Hinako: Yamato tricked us! You okay, Hibiki? It looks like the attack hits inside the light! Head to the sides of the room!

Mid-battle, defeating the first enemy blocking the exits: Yamato: Hmph! There's no point in maintaining the attack under these circumstances.

Mid-battle, Yamato attacking Hibiki: Yamato: It's still not too late. Join me…!

Hibiki Kuze: - No, Yamato. - You should join us.

No, Yamato. Yamato: Hahaha! Very well, Hibiki. Then perish!

You should join us. Yamato: Hahaha! You know I cannot. This dream is my utmost desire!

Defeating Yamato: Yamato: Ha… What power… To think that I would be defeated…

Post-battle: Yamato: Hahaha! You monster… You give me information, and now you wish to defeat me. You aren't human… What are you? Why're you aiding Hibiki!?

Al Saiduq: Yamato Hotsuin, no one can truly say what they are in this world. I… am following my heart. Just as you are.

Yamato: Preposterous! You're nothing like me. You're not even human! Benetnash is dead, and Polaris has not appeared. It's obvious what you are now! Hear me Hibiki! I'll tell you what that "man" really is!

Al Saiduq: …Don't, Yamato Hotsuin.

Yamato: Mark me! That creature's name is Alcor! He is the last of the Septentriones! He is nothing more than a monster sent by Polaris! He wants to bring the world to ruin! You are being deceived! If you believe in him, you doom all humanity to annihilation!

Daichi: What!? Th-This guy's a Septentrione? Seriously?

Io: Huh? Saiduq's… I-Is this true!?

Al Saiduq: ……

Hibiki Kuze: - Are you our enemy? - Is this true, Saiduq?

Are you our enemy? Al Saiduq: I am a Septentrione… One of those that has subjugated mankind. Yet, I have abandoned my task to grant you new potential. As a result, the world is slowly disappearing. It is an unchangeable truth. If you say that you wish to slay me… I leave the decision to you. Hibiki Kuze: - I wouldn't do that. - Help us create a new world. Al Saiduq: …!?

Is this true, Saiduq? Al Saiduq: I won't deny it… It is the truth.

Hibiki Kuze: - I'm fine with that. - No big deal.

Al Saiduq: …!?

Yamato: …What!?

Hibiki Kuze: - I believe in you. - You're still my friend.

Al Saiduq: I'm surprised… Though I might be your enemy, you still approve of me? You still grant me your trust?

Hibiki Kuze: - I do. - Is there a problem?

Yamato: Hahaha! Blind fools!

Daichi: What's going on!? I… I can't move!

Al Saiduq: You… You still had such power left…

Yamato: I won't let this continue! I'll never accept something like you!

Al Saiduq: Don't do this… Stop!

Al Saiduq attacks him.

Yamato: Gyah!

Al Saiduq: Yamato Hotsuin…

Jungo: Yamato? Yamato?

Daichi: Wh-What're you doing, Yamato!? Why would you go so far!?

Yamato: Fools… You could never understand what I'd risk to realize my ideals… You were striving to get me to compromise, but that would never work. I feared this day would come, ever since you came to JP's. That's when it all began to come apart… Ngh… It is… It is unfortunate that my ambitions will never come… to fruition!

Hibiki Kuze: - I wish we could get along. - What a shame.

Yamato: Ha! So naive… Hibiki. You've chosen a path: to create a new world with that monster. …Don't hesitate. Follow the path you desire without looking back on what's been sacrificed. But… Perhaps I could… accept your invitation… in the next life…

Yamato jumps to his death.

Makoto: N-No…! Why…!? Chief Hotsuin, you didn't have to…

Io: No… Yamato…! He was always kinda scary, but… to die like that…

Hinako: What an idiot! Why did he have to rush to his own death?

Jungo: Yamato… I wanted to get to know you better…

Daichi: That bastard! He has to go and die on his own…! After all you've said, it was still you who helped us survive this long, Yamato! How can you just leave us like this…? You moron!

Al Saiduq: ……

Hibiki Kuze: - There was nothing we could do… - What's the matter?

Al Saiduq: You did choose to follow my path… Are you alright with what happened here?

Hibiki Kuze: - Don't make me say it again. - Yes, I am…

Al Saiduq: I see… You're right. There's no time for discussion now. Let us go forth to Polaris.

[magnetic-regent-magneto]

⠀ ⠀-- || ... Library and Archive of Roleplays across the entire blog ... || -- updated: 12.08.2024⠀ ⠀ A - I ⠀ ⠀J - S ⠀ ⠀T - Z⠀ ⠀PLEASE NOTE THAT TUMBLR HAS HAD TROUBLE TAGGING-- Notify me if I owe a post or a reply has not been received.

@aranaboricua

Pokemon

Fascination

Shy

@argentarrogance

Fathers Day

Pat head

@bennetduparis

wounds

@biitchcakes

something to say

@bothsidesofaquestion

Here

Words

@defectivexfragmented

Castle Conspiracy -- Continuation

Avengers Tower

Judge Jury Executioner

@defyxoblivion

Scars

Giving up

Plans

Do right

Evil Empress Inquiries

@down-home-charm

Art of Savage Lands

Unhinged

Dreamverse

Kiss to not say out loud

Lap

On my knees

Kiss me again

@dusktrip-archive1

Modesty

Owe Me

@echoylir

Wow

no giant mutant killing robots

@edgymuses

Children afraid of the dark

@emmatriarchy

Bullying Remy (Gambit)

Hope (Hope)

Alone (Bishop)

Handle Alone (Emma)

Talk (Polaris)

Unexpected (Rogue)

Returning Death (Rogue)

Terra X (Lorna)

What have you done? (Emma)

Do not bleed on the carpet. (Rahne)

@enrogued

Rain

Shepherd

Stars

Empty Heart

@esinisex

Help

With everything I was

Damn this town

@extraordinarygrrls

Crime Mystery

@feralweapon

Big Mistake

Dead Fool

@fifthimpact

Turning monster

@fvzzyelf

Heresy

@gutrage

Truth

@hellsputina

Swords

@heroesoath

Intimidating as a butterfly

@hexsreality

Can you read me a story?

Here is a plea from my heart to you.

Flower

Am I a monster or a person?

I accept your apology

Nightmares and heavy bones - Continuation

Do you want a Hug? - Continuation

The darkness does not bargain

What are you doing in the middle of the night?

Taking you out for your birthday

Tweet

See What Lies Beyond - Chthon

Compassion is the Downfall

The Living Battery

They want to take you down

Lift up

Take me through darkness

Not this time

@hubrisdescent

When I was a boy

@inmutant

What if it is pointless?

Call me Grandfather

Birthday

@iobartach

Easy

Easy Continuation

Beg

All the answers I wanna know

Walk a different path

Love Family

Friend or Foe

@iwasagod

Riddled Alliance

Human Condition

[liquidstar]

If I can't sleep that's ok because you know what.... I will post one more small excerpt from my oc writing practice wips. Just once more for now

probably the only context you need for this one is that everyone's at a party that a place is throwing them for completing a big mission. so here it is

-----

As the party raged on within the stone walls, Polaris slipped away to the porch. She took slow steps, carefully carrying an arranged plate of finger food she’d collected. She sat down on the floor, and leaned her head up against the wall. Taking in the muted sounds of the festivity indoors, she found comfort in this space that hovered between the roaring celebration and the stillness of the night.

Polaris wasn’t alone in seeking refuge outside, another person had found their way to her hiding spot- It’s Mira! Though Polaris had ventured out to eat alone, Mira was certainly not unwelcome company.

However, Mira did not seem to notice Polaris sitting on the ground. She walked right past her, lost in her own thoughts as she made her way to the railing, relaxing her arms on it.

“Hey,” Polaris spoke in a cautious voice, so as not to startle her teammate. Still, she saw Mira tense at the sound of her voice.

“Oh! Polly! I didn't see you, sorry!”

Polaris laughs, “All good!”

“What are you doing… sitting on the ground alone?”

“Eating,” Polaris shrugged, and took another bite of her food.

“Ohh…”

“What about you? I didn't think you'd be the type to leave parties. Aren’t you a social butterfly?”

“I'd like to be a butterfly!” Mira laughs, turning her face towards the sky above, her eyes sparkling with wonder, “But actually I just wanted to look at the stars a little. They're clearer here in the mountains y'know…”

“Hm,” Polaris followed Mira's gaze upwards. She rose to her feet, joining Mira at the railing, “Yeah, you're right.”

“It's so pretty,” Mira marveled, tracing the constellations above. She adds, “It's so big.”

“Yeah, well, that's space.”

They fell into a comfortable stilless, taking in the enchanting view of the starry sky. The distant sounds of the party still echoed in the background, the golden light from inside illuminating only their backs.

“Do you ever feel like this is the wrong place?”

Polaris tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at Mira's sudden question. “What do you mean?”

Mira raised a single outstretched hand to the heavens, as if waiting for the universe to take it. Staring at the gaps of sky between her fingers, she continues, "Don't you feel like… We're supposed to be up there?"

Polaris looks into Mira's eyes, which were still fixated above. She could only see a vague wistfulness within them- A nostalgia. The stars themselves shined within those eyes. Polaris couldn’t explain why, but this made her uneasy.

As if in a daze, Mira stood on her tiptoes and reached for the stars with all her might. In a panic, Polaris drops her plate and grabs onto her friend.

“Polaris? What are you doing?” Mira’s trance was broken by the sudden embrace, “I thought you weren't a hugger?” She joked.

“I thought… I thought the stars were going to take you away,” Polaris mumbled, embarrassed by the ridiculousness of her own words, “So I held on…”

Mira couldn’t help but laugh at this absurd statement, “What? That's silly! How would that even work?” poking fun at her friend's nonsense concerns, she tried to lighten the mood.

“I don't-” Polaris relaxed her grip, but didn't fully let go of Mira, “It really felt like it…”

Mira let out a sigh and patted her head, “I wouldn't let that happen, okay?”

Having these irrational concerns humored somehow made Polaris feel even more embarrassed. She released Mira from her embrace, and stepped back to lean on the railing. "Sorry,” she replied.

“Well, I'm just glad you care so much!” Mira laughed again, not letting up on her teasing. However, her snarky smile softens and she leaves Polaris with a, “Thank you.”

With that, Mira heads back inside, leaving Polaris alone with her thoughts. She took one last glance at the stars.

“The right place…” She whispers to the night.

[chinchillasorchildren]

2024 most anticipated...

The Beast (Bonello)

DUNC2: The Re-DUNCening (Villeneuve)

Last Summer (Breillat)

The Perfumed Hill haha jk...unless? (Sissako)

The Brutalist (Corbet)

Mickey 17 (Bong)

Butterfly Jam (Balagov)

Hard Truths (Leigh)

Unt. Andrei Zvyagintsev

Hit Man (Linklater)

Kind of Kindness (Lanthimos)

Resurrection (Bi)

We Shall All Be (Jia)

With a Bad Bitch Who Came From Sri Lanka (Weerasethakul)

Furiosa (Miller)

Nosferatu (Eggers)

Megalopolis (Coppola)

Love Lies Bleeding (Glass)

The Shrouds (Cronenberg)

Blitz (McQueen)

Those Who Find Me (Kulumbegashvili)

Challengers (Guadagnino)

Polaris (Ramsay)

Parthenhope (Sorrentino)

C'est Pas Moi (Carax)

Serpent's Path (Kurosawa)

Bird (Arnold)

The Way of the Wind (Malick)

Mother Mary (Lowery)

Oh, Canada (Schrader)

[nikonautic]

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

hiyaa! im niko (pronouns in bio) and im a hobbyist artist who loves to design characters! (*>∀<)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

☆ i dont really have a dni, i just dont want hateful/rude people to interact w/me + i might block you if i dont like the vibe youre giving, but thats a rare case

☆ CURRENT INTERESTS: ocs, blue lock, cookie run, mlp, bleach, scott pilgrim, undertale, borderlands, life is strange

☆ REQUESTS: can send an ask, but its not guaranteed that ill do one (remember its just free art so dont expect much :,D)

☆ if you want to just see my art on this blog search the tag #my art, or #doodles for really low effort things

☆ if you want to see oc content, search the tag #nikonauticocs + i have tags for separate characters and series! search the full name of an oc if you want to see content of them:

#till death do us part: alexei niko fedorov, rodion smirnoff, florian chmielewski, ludwik lewis, margo hughes*, sam murphy*, heikichi saruwatari*, louis ludwik II*

#dream catcher: lucia iris stavridi, sophie hawkins, rachel inéz anderson, angelo colletti, stella santoro, polaris santoro, morpheus, ikelos/phobetor, phantasos

#buttoneye: charlie finch, roy campbell, teddy, patchy

#act the goat: starlight, sunflower, thunderbolt, snowflake

#timeless soirée: madeleine rieux-laurent/moxie, bennett beaulieu, marceline beaulieu

#call of the sea: milo klaus kyllönen, nikita horáček

cookie run oc: baklava cookie, daisy cookie, green tea cookie, butterfly monarch cookie, banana split cookie, sour tubes cookie, pink jasmine cookie, velvet cake roll cookie, candy ball cookie, mocha cookie, hazelnut cookie, red licorice cookie, pierogi cookie

mlp oc: cloudy prism, starlight lullaby, lovely stitches, super nova, apple struck, iris bouquet, shooting stars, rainbow orchard, bluebell raindrops, candy buttons, floral ramble, rainbow rave

blue lock oc: haruto tachibana, yuito hoshisaki

other: sailor niko, coral, berry

*these ocs belong to my friends, but exist as my versions of them in the series (any art of them will be shown to the owners)

☆ and last of all, my other socials are (check linktree in my profile description for links!):

nikonautic (instagram)

nikonautic (spotify)

nikonautic (discord)

nikonautic (toyhouse)

nikonautic (art fight)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat]

Oneshots Masterlist

This is where all of my oneshots will be linked.

Sanders Sides

All of Me Needs Sleep, *All* of Me | ao3 link

Northern Star, Our Sleepy Compass | ao3 link

Green is The Shadow Colour of Red | ao3 link

Sunset Jealousy | ao3 link

Loverboy & His Lover-Boy | ao3 link

Polaris | ao3 link

An Emerald Crown | ao3 link

Violets & Shy Gladioli | ao3 link

Ferns & Flowers | ao3 link

Coffee & Sweets | ao3 link

Logince Week 2024

Stargazing the Stargazer | ao3 link [Day 1: Stars]

To Fluster a Prince | ao3 link [Day 2: Revenge]

Rest | ao3 link [Day 3: Adventure]

Burning Timber, Grey Fog | ao3 link [Day 4: Block By Burnout]

A Plot Hole and Reassurance | ao3 link [Day 5: Stroke of Genius]

Tell It to Me, My Dearest Star | ao3 link [Day 6: Tell Me About It]

An Excerpt of Insecure Icarus [Day 7: Am I Worthy? Are You Proud?] [Full fic will be posted soon!]

“All the while, believe me, I prayed our night would last twice as long.” | ao3 link [Art Trade]

Birthday Boy | ao3 link [Moved from @/sasi-whump due to inactivity]

I know I got no choice, got no choice, but to love myself | ao3 link

Intruality Week 2024

Hold Me Before I Drown | ao3 link [Day 1: Fear & Realization]

Melissa the Butterfly Plushie | ao3 link [Day 2: Plushies & Butterflies]

I’ve a Dream, Darling, and You’re the Reason | ao3 link [Day 3: Music & Dreams] [Coming Soon!]

Warmth in Its Loveliest Form | ao3 link [Day 4: Sharing Clothes & Domestic

Forget-Me-Nots Mean 'Remembrance' | ao3 link [Day 5: Adventure & Flowers] [Coming Soon!]

A Tale of Princesses, Princes, and Bakers | ao3 link [Day 6: Wonderland/Fairytale & Best Friend's Brother] [Coming Soon!]

Misc. Fandoms

To Swear on the River Styx | ao3 link