#mossy boat

[apileofmoss]

rb to freeking hug and cuddle and kiss and love your mutual

#platonic kisses btw #unless to yall it means smth else #WTVRFLOATS YA BOAT type thing #mossy's mumblings #wow look mom im famous

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

i love listening to seafaring themed music and having a great time without knowing a single fucking word that is being said to me. godbless. what the fuck is a hailard. i love you

#mossy speaks #listening to stuff by alex sturbaum and gbskgjdkfk their stuff is so good #thank u incredibly niche indie musicians making boat music ily #alex sturbaum

[cherryjuiceblues]

CONVERTED SNEAK PEEK (RUGBY!HARRY) COMING SOON! (NSFR)

“P’ppet?” It barely penetrates the thick fog of Y/N’s slumber—takes a pregnant moment for her ears to signal her brain—and then another moment for her brain to process the moniker and its mumbling speaker. They’d fallen asleep in an intimate enough of an embrace, Harry soothed when his best friend draped the weight of her body over his own in one final hug before bed. But he hadn’t let her go; hadn’t let her escape to her own side of the bed (because there was no way she was sleeping in her own hotel room after such a day) and she’d been content about it—only silently. 

How else could she feel when the mass of Harry’s biceps curled around her body like they might crush her brittle bones? Could, but never would. Safe in the arms of a very capable man, his vessel broad and solid underneath the smaller outline of her own. He feels like a boat in this position, wrapping up around her and keeping her safe from the oncoming slew of harsh waves amidst the treacherous sea.

And he’s warm. So warm. A human heater, some may tease—Y/N does tease, on frequent occasion—to extract a predictable mossy eye roll. His roiling heat paired with the compression of his hold had lulled her mind to sleep almost selfishly quickly, and if she’d been any more awake she might have fought it, might have brushed the pad of her thumb across the top of Harry’s brow until she was sure he’d drifted off. Would’ve accompanied him until he’d left the sadness of his day behind. But she just couldn’t help it, and it seemed as though Harry had only encouraged the evening of her breaths and the steady thump of her heart atop his chest. If her eyes had been open then she would’ve been able to observe the calm quirk of his lips as he gazed upon the back of her head and her face nestled into the crease of his neck.

She would have been able to see the ease in which Harry’s own eyelids fluttered shut as soon as he felt content that she was asleep. And she might have felt it necessary to call him weird to quell the nervous energy thrumming inside her body. To dispel any unwise thoughts she might conjure in the fuzzy whirl of received devotion.

They’ve moved in their sleep. No surprise, really—not with the way Harry tends to fidget and Y/N can never stay comfortable. And it takes another long, bleary moment to realise that Y/N is the only one that’s awake despite the heavy breathing and the repetition of the name in her ear. 

Her heart stutters inside her ribs.

She’s too hot, and the weight around her waist and cocooning her back is too… too much. It’s heavy, and nudges her in irregular motions, it yearns to fuse all the way down to her molecules. Part of her knows it’s Harry but the other part doesn’t understand what is reality and what is the doing of her slowly stirring consciousness.

He rouses behind her and Y/N’s spine stiffens at the movement, panicking that she’s been caught—but caught doing what exactly? Waking up? Breathing? Coming to the humiliating realisation that her best friend is dreaming of much nicer things and unaware that his body is betraying him? It dawns on her that the real fear is not knowing how to handle a situation like this. At least as long as Harry stays asleep she has time to figure it out; time to wriggle away fruitlessly.

It sparks something depraved in her lower belly and tingles all the way through her nervous system. They’ve fought before… wrestled (more accurately described as a game of cat and mouse with Y/N as the latter) and it’s brought a warmth to her cheeks that she’s always passed off as exertion. Easily believable with the creased state Harry leaves her clothes in alongside the kinks in her hair. But she knows it’s a lie. She knows that the fire of her skin is blazed alight by the inability to ever win against Harry. Maybe she should exercise more… take up boxing perhaps. Something to quell this desire. Or maybe she should get to the root of the issue instead of encouraging twisted fantasies with Harry—because she does—it’s muscle memory by now, to test her luck with a gentle swat to his arm that builds up to two, three, four, until Harry’s forced to wrap the expanse of his fingers around her easily incarcerated wrists. 

Every time, without fail, the adrenaline gives her a high. It makes her normally, composed facade crumble away in front of her very eyes. It puts a silly grin on her face and makes her skin buzz with glee. She tries to hide it, so as to not prompt any probing questions from Harry, but she’s certain she does a god-awful job. Never has Y/N been so thankful that she is the more astute of the pair.

So there’s a part of her—a rather dominant part—that yearns to make a sick game of it. To see how quickly Harry’s instincts kick in and his arms tighten up around her. Would he pull her back into his chest? Would he squeeze her as a warning and crush her body—eliciting a panic that tells her to struggle and escape just for a second? 

She knows she has to do something; can’t let him keep rutting against her backside—for his sake if nothing else. Y/N tries to imagine if it were her—ignores the depths of her mind telling her she’d love it—latches onto the humiliation and upset it would imbed deep within her brain. 

And she’s about to start wriggling, twitches only the slightest bit, before Harry’s beating her to it. In the heaviness of her slumber, and the pressing realisation, Y/N hadn’t felt the mass of Harry’s bicep nestled safely in the crook of her neck. But now she does. Now it manoeuvres her with ease and travels down to meet his other arm snug around her waist. Her own personal cage—imprisoned by warm flesh and bone, tight and compressing, holding her without the intention of ever letting her get too far away.

It travels down to his other arm, rests for a moment, before the plains of a palm smooths over an unsuspecting hip. Y/N tenses ever so slightly, surprised but not panicked… not yet. She doesn’t expect curious fingertips to reach so far, to curl into the crease of her thigh and sear right through the thick of Harry’s lended joggers.

“Harry.”

He slurs something back, still asleep, “Mm, s’okay b’by.” Whether or not her voice travels through the fog of his unconscious is unknown, but it doesn’t seem to matter. He’s only spurred further, film reel rolling—twice as fast now—spinning out of control. “I know, jus’— good, that’s good…” The strength of his arms must compare to some sort of hydraulic press, surely capable of grinding her bones down to marrow and she’s not sure she’d want to stop him.

Prickling heat washes over her from head to toe, the latter curling against the crisp hotel sheets. “Harry… Harry, wake up,” the breath floats from her lips, void of conviction in an unfamiliar way. She’s only human and the press of a body so close to her own, for the first time in longer than she’d like to admit; it builds. Slowly at first and then it starts hurtling—snowballing down a steep cliff edge with no brakes.

What if she doesn’t wake him? What if… if Harry starts to feel her weight push back into him, encouraging him, enticing him? Or if Y/N’s fingers start to dance their way down her front, tiptoe over the mound of Harry’s forearms and dip beneath the grey sweats of his she’s adorning. The thought is too tempting and she’d never forgive herself. 

#harry styles #harry styles smut #rugby!harry #sneak peek #harry styles one shots #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #smut #nsfr

[galedekarios]

overview of gale's bugs as of version 4.1.1.4425968 of the game (most recent version after hotfix #16)

i compiled an overview of all of gale's bugs as of right now. these are all bugs that i myself encountered or that friends, mutuals and followers have reported.

🔮 if you would like to share this with and send this to larian, you can do so here! 🔮

act i

weave scene doesn't trigger at tiefling party despite exceptional approval

act ii

act ii romance scene / last night alive scene:

no purple blanket during the romance scene that previous patch notes mentioned appears

dialogue options show up too early during the illusion part of the romance scene, which makes it easy to skip parts of the scene (transition from the balcony in waterdeep to the astral sea part of the scene)

astral sea part of the romance scene has low-res body textures for the protag + gale throughout the entirety of the scene

gale's hands hover over & around the protag (slender bodytypes 1/2)

act iii

final battle kiss is still broken as it was before the latest hotfix and skips entirely / ends abruptly

morena / dekarios family name player-initiated dialogue option in act iii after meeting tara is still bugged & doesn't trigger

romance version of gale's sacrifice doesn't trigger if you use the orb during the final fight against the netherbrain -> gale calls the player "my friend" instead of "my love"

if gale does the ultimate sacrifice, his romance isn't acknowledged in the epilogue by the other companions / npcs, game defaults to friendship version of the epilogue

act iii romance scene / boat scene:

magic particles don't gather around the protagonist's hand anymore in the first moments of the boat ride in the astral sea

boat scenes sometimes bugs out if you camp in rivington and the game will think you are in a cave / astral sea doesn't load, only the boat does (thank you for the screenshot, @shibepetter!)

epilogue: (mortal) gale's idle animations and idle conversations with tara don't trigger, he just stands at camp doing nothing / silent (thank you, @dekariosclan!)

epilogue: gale is invisible

general

circlets disappear during kiss default animation

beard graphics are still bugged resulting in a low-res beard / "mossy"-looking beard, has to be fixed manually by the player as of right now

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #larian studios #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #rbing / sharing is encouraged

[frogcraftingg]

This mossy, overgrown home sits on the edge of a nearly-perfect circular river. An adventure awaits just a boat ride (or donkey ride) away~! 🪴🌿

Watch on YouTube here ❤️

#mineblr #mizunos 16 craft #cottagecore minecraft #minecraft builds #frogcrafting #minecraft mizunos #aesthetic minecraft #minecraft build #minecraft starter house #cottagecore aesthetic #complementary shaders

[freds-one-piece-fics]

Straw hats x reader: How it begins hc

-you first meet the straw hats when visiting a town, looking for a place to work and have stability.

-today was your first day of your job, after a lot of convincing that you could handle the tough activities you’d be paid to do.

-your large figure definitely drew eyes but it wasn’t what caught the crew’s attention.

-nope. It was the absolute unit of a massive tree you were carrying with one arm while the other was occupied by a cart full to the brim with logs that would normally be pulled by 4 horses.

-it wasn’t hard to miss either with every town dweller making space for you while side eyeing you nervously.

-Luffy was the first (and at the moment only person) to approach you with such enthusiasm.

-it surprised you for sure, but you tried to mimic half the enthusiasm out of politeness.

-“greetings sir, lovely weather we’re having?”

-“it’s really cold actually.”

-his bluntness was another little surprise, but you found it amusing nonetheless. It’s nice to have a friendly chat with someone for once, outside of work, of course.

-speaking of, you couldn’t stay too long, and although you could hold these logs all day, you’d rather not waste time.

-so you leave him be, thinking it’d be the last time you two would speak.

-well you were wrong.

-This time you’d meet the straw hat’s crew consisting of a red head navigator, a long nosed sharp shooter, a blonde chef, a mossy green swords man, and a cute little reindeer.

-turns out their boat was a little worn, nothing too expensive, but definitely wouldn’t survive the places they’d be going.

-the swordsman, reindeer, and the long nosed man were skeptical when meeting you, the deer and long nose were for fear reasons, the greenie was mostly suspicious but also somewhat uninterested.

-you didn’t find this weird though, you were use to it, however you didn’t know that they were judging your every move because their captain put you on the “going to make my nakama” list.

-gotta make sure your future crewmate isn’t bad news, y’know?

-after they hang around, waiting for their ship to get some small repairs, some of the crew members eventually start talking.

-the blonde chef man was one of the first (other than Luffy) to actually introduce himself. He was very courteous, always offering to bring you and the red head a drink even after you declined politely the 5th time.

-the skittish man and deer would test the waters, waiting for Luffy and Sanji to start the conversations before getting comfortable enough to have small chatter.

-Chopper was pretty happy to not be called a little dog for once, and appreciated you not treating him like… an animal? Even though he is technically an animal, he appreciates not getting treated as less…

-and Usopp found a lot of what you are working with fascinating, adding his own tidbits and insights about certain tools you were holding in that moment.

-you knew nothing of what he said.

-although it seemed like it, you weren’t an engineer, but you were useful when it came to positioning hard-to-move parts.

-but despite not looking at them as you held a large, heavy beam for another coworker to hammer on tight, you listened carefully and answered every other question.

-you were actually pleasant to talk to.

-each day, the crew would get comfortable, hanging out in the ship area to overlook the process despite the town having more than enough activities.

-you weren’t sure why they would hang out here when there wasn’t much to do other than to watch, but you appreciated the company.

-the red head did leave to check out the shops the first few days, but she did get to talking to you, and she mentally regretted not talking to you sooner.

-you were so nice despite doing all this work, getting your ear talked off, and she actually felt heard. You understood her frustration with the men throwing away money getting everyone into trouble.

-it was nice to be around someone who isn’t yelling 24/7 despite being within earshot.

-then you reach the last day.

-the goat boat is finished with some nice touches.

-you’re prepared to send the crew their way, telling them the ship was in good condition thanks to your coworkers before Zoro finally speaks to you directly.

-“why not go out for a drink, eh? A little thank you for helping with the ship.”

-you almost decline, saying you only move stuff around when the others start to chime in enthusiastically.

-“yeah! I wanna go eat at that restaurant I spotted near the food market area! It’s fun chatting with you and we don’t wanna leave without a send off!” Nami said with a lot of cheer in her voice

-“plus… I’ll pay.”

-well shit. When she puts it like that…

-you accept, while she turns to tell Zoro that the feast would be added to his tab.

-he didn’t like that.

-anyways, y’all go and get drunk and fueled up.

-Zoro challenges you to a drinking contest, which you accept out of politeness (much to the dismay of the other more sane crew members).

-much to their shock, you actually out drink Zoro.

-he’s heavily drunk but is conscious enough to not pass out or make a completely stupid decision.

-and you sat there, only buzzed.

-“it’s genetics.” You dismissed.

-it wasn’t a lie, it definitely was, but it wasn’t naturally occurring…

-anywho! You’re just about ready to leave to get back to your workplace to catch some sleep when Luffy stopped you.

-you know what comes next…

-“become my Nakama!”

-you sit there, almost stunned.

-how do you answer that???

-“…no?”

-cue the silence.

-“…you don’t wanna be our friend?” your veins completely iced over when the little deer looked at you tearfully.

-“n-no- I mean I enjoy being your friends, but I just started a job here.”

-“the job where you only follow orders and do nothing else? Sounds boring.”

-there’s the bluntness once again. Typical Luffy.

-but it does make you uncomfortable for a few different reasons…

-“it doesn’t seem like much of a life if I’m completely honest. It doesn’t seem like others are interested in having a conversation with you outside of work”

-Sanji immediately snaps at Zoro for the comment, but you did take in what he said.

-you listened. And you knew it was true.

-this job… wasn’t really what you wanted. You escaped with the intention to never follow orders like a trained dog ever again.

-you only wanted it because you needed to have… something.

-so you find yourself mildly convinced.

-mildly.

-“you have enough beds, correct?”

-it really didn’t take much convincing, did it?

-so there you all went, sailing into the unknown. Not knowing just what a mistake you may have made from simply giving in to the smallest of pressure…

~~~~~~~~~~~

Woo this was a rough start lmao.

I haven’t wrote hcs in a long time, so this is gonna be awkwardly written 👍 but I’ll get a hang of it again

#yandere one piece #tw yandere #yandere strawhats #straw hat pirates #straw hats x reader #one piece x reader

[tinylongwing]

Fieldwork here on Rota is well underway, with about half of our mist-netting lanes and trails marked and prepped for next month's bird banding. But along the way, we find all kinds of incredible landscapes and hidden treasures.

Top left: A WWII Japanese artillery gun sunk into a manmade cave in a limestone wall. The old gun is being overtaken by the jungle and has ferns and moss growing all over the barrel.

Top right: An old wrecked boat inside the lagoon on Rota's northwestern shore, with brilliant blue sky above and turquoise water below.

Bottom left: Guam Coenogyne, a rare endangered orchid found only on Rota and Guam. This white flower with a red center emerges from a swirl of large bulbs with leaves that cling to the bark of a mossy tree.

Bottom right: An unbroken green glass bottle that originally held soy sauce, from sometime in the 1920s-40s when Rota was a Japanese colony.

#WWII history #japan #japanese history #rota #rota island #northern mariana islands #orchid #tropical pacific

[thenorthsource]

AGOT, Arya IV

All that Syrio Forel had taught her went racing through her head. […] Quick as a snake. Calm as still water.

TWOW, Mercy

The smell of blood was heavy in her nostrils...or was that her nightmare, lingering? She had dreamed of wolves again, of running […] hard on the scent of prey.

Half-light filled the room, grey and gloomy. Shivering, she sat up in bed and ran a hand across her scalp. Stubble bristled against her palm. I need to shave before Izembaro sees. Mercy, I'm Mercy, and tonight I'll be raped and murdered. Her true name was Mercedene, but Mercy was all anyone ever called her...

Except in dreams. She took a breath to quiet the howling in her heart, trying to remember more of what she'd dreamt, but most of it had gone already. There had been blood in it, though, […] and a tree that watched her as she ran.

[…] Braavos was lost in fog. She could see the green water of the little canal below, the cobbled stone street that ran beneath her building, two arches of the mossy bridge...but the far end of the bridge vanished in greyness, and of the buildings across the canal only a few vague lights remained. She heard a soft splash as a serpent boat emerged beneath the bridge's central arch. "What hour?" Mercy called down to the man who stood by the snake's uplifted tail, pushing her onward with his pole.

The waterman gazed up, searching for the voice. "Four, by the Titan's roar." His words echoed hollowly off the swirling green waters and the walls of unseen buildings.

[…] She had filled her basin from the canal last night before she went to sleep, preferring the brackish water to the slimy green rainwater stewing in the cistern out back. Dipping a rough cloth, she washed herself head to heel, standing on one leg at a time to scrub her calloused feet. After that she found her razor. A bare scalp helped the wigs fit better, Izembaro claimed.

She shaved, […] and slipped a shapeless brown wool dress down over her head. One of her stockings needed mending, she saw as she pulled it up.

[…]

“Mercy, Mercy, Mercy," she sang sadly. […] She would miss her, and she would miss Daena and the Snapper and the rest, even Izembaro […]

She would think about that later, though. Just now, there was no time. I had best run. Mercy still had some lines to say, her first lines and her last, and Izembaro would have her pretty little empty head if she were late for her own rape.

#asoiafedit #valyrianscrolls #asoiafwomensource #valyriansource #aryastarkedit #thenorthedit #valyrianladies #direwolfdaily #arya stark #mercedene #mercy #braavos #asoiaf #*edits #ours #by jacoby #rape tw #nudity tw

[jesterwriting]

hi jester!! i saw you mention you like to write hurt/comfort and fluff alongside the smut on this blog so i'm here to ask for just that <3 could you write something where law and reader (transmasc) reunite after being separated at sabaody due to extenuated circumstances? the yearning, the affection/touch starvation, "cuddling is not enough i need to be in his clothes" type beat of longing, the works ✨

if possible could law have they/them pronouns as well? <:3 ty for your time!! 💖💓

pairing: trafalgar law x reader

contents: fluff, reunions, they/them law, soft law, a lot of yearning, transmasc reader but it's not super obvious except for one mention of chest scars, a vomiting butterflies metaphor is in here because i love when love is so sappy it makes you metaphorically sick, mentions of wanting to switch hearts with law, maybe ooc?? still trying to get ahold of law’s character

word count: 1.3k words

note: i LOVE fluff and i LOVE yearning. unsure if this counts entirely as hurt/comfort, but if you want soft law and sappy reunions, this will certainly fill that void. thank you so much for your request i had so much fun with this, i really hope you enjoy it <33

playlist: exist for love by aurora

It had been too long. Excitement had your hands shaking. To keep them steady, you curled them tight against your chest, though you couldn’t keep your fingers from fidgeting with the divots between your knuckles. Your heart hammered a desperate beat in your chest as your boat approached Sabaody Archipelago, the destination where you would report back to your captain, and partner, after your extended mission away from the Polar Tang.

Neither of you wanted to be apart for so long, but it couldn’t be helped. Your natural abilities made you a perfect candidate, and as always with Law, logic won out over matters of the heart. You couldn’t fault them for it, the plan only made sense with you at the helm. For all your desire to stay, you couldn’t, you both knew that.

The night you left, Law kissed each of your knuckles tenderly, before placing their lips against your forehead, warm, if not slightly chapped. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, alone under the stars — your goodbye to the rest of the crew had happened earlier, far less intimate and far more boisterous, though you didn’t find yourself complaining — before Law pulled away, affection dancing in their eyes. A soft expression reserved only for you.

They ran the calloused pad of their thumb against your cheek one final time. “Stay safe out there, Y/N-ya.”

You shivered slightly, wishing you were back home already, not hunting Law down through the mangroves of Sabaody. Normally, you would have docked at a closer, but as per their instructions, you kept your distance. Anticipation made butterflies sing in your chest, little legs tickling your innermost organs. Imaginary wings fluttered against your sternum. Whether your nausea was caused by anxiety or desperate yearning, you weren’t sure. Either way, you felt as if you were seconds from puking a hoard of winged insects onto the mossy ground. You knew where they would go, flying to the Polar Tang ahead of you to greet your beloved captain with bile coated adoration.

Law was not the most affectionate human. Their love made itself known through small acts of service throughout the day, or quiet moments spent together, simply sharing the same space. That was your favorite. You enjoyed watching their face twitch when they were lost in thought, or engaged in a good book. Sometimes, they would read to you, your head against them as one of their tattooed fingers brushed the hair from your face. You listened with rapt attention, their voice rumbling against your ear.

You missed them. Desperately. Every part of them had made a home under your skin, from their sarcastic quips to even their most infuriating tendencies to isolate themself in times of stress. Law was not without their faults, and neither were you. They accepted you as you were, loved you at your basest form, fingers reverent against the scars on your chest. It made you want to be better, to grow and change. You wanted to be your best self with them.

First and foremost, however, you just wanted to see Law. You were certain their eyes would light up when they saw you, their smirk morphing into something more genuine.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the Polar Tang was within eyesight. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw Law, sitting on the edge of the sub. They were alone, likely having sent the rest of the crew out to explore the Archipelago. You snickered to yourself. Law was never one for public displays of affection, and they must have known that you would refuse to hold yourself back from jumping in their arms. Not now, not this time, not after it had been so long since you felt their arms around you.

You didn’t realize you were running until you felt your breath coming in heavy pants. Law climbed down the ladder to greet you, unable to hide their pleasure through their usual smirk. Their smile was small, though the adoration in it made tears well in your eyes. You threw yourself into Law’s chest, their arms slotting into place around your shoulders as your own fingers clutched the back of his jacket tightly. Inhaling deeply, you realized that most of all, you missed their scent. Spicy and slightly antiseptic.

“You found me,” They said into your hair. You could feel their lips brush against your scalp as they squeezed you closer to them.

Loosening your grip and, tracing small shapes between their shoulder blades, you laughed, “Told you I would.”

Law sighed, slumping slightly into your embrace as if a heavy weight was removed from their shoulders. They wouldn’t admit it, at least not right now, but they were worried about you. There was always the chance you wouldn’t come back home. They had spent many sleepless nights, throwing themself deep into their work, to keep from considering that circumstance for longer than they needed. But, here you were, alive and well, back where you belonged. Close to their chest and in their grasp, never to let you go.

They pulled back to look at you, trace the lines of your face with their fingers. You smiled and leaned into their touch.

“I’m taking you to the infirmary, Y/N-ya. It’s been a while since your last checkup.” Even as they spoke, attempting to be stern, their hands were gentle as they cupped your face. Law tilted your head left and right, examining you with a trained eye.

You missed them so much it was crazy.

A part of you wondered if you could switch your heart with Law’s so you would always have a piece of them inside you. What would it feel like to have their heart beat in your chest? It certainly wouldn’t feel the same as your own. Maybe heavier. They always carry so much weight with them, and, for once, you would like to lessen the burden, if only for a second.

With a grin, you let your head flop against their chest. “I can tell you already I’m not hurt.”

Law rolled their eyes. You may have your face buried in their jacket, but you knew that sigh anywhere. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Even then, they refused to peel themself away from you. You both knew you couldn’t stay like this forever, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to. The butterflies returned as you rocked side to side on your heels. Law inhaled deeply and followed your movements, nose against the top of your head.

“I missed you, Law.”

“I know you did.” They snickered when you pulled back to hit them with a glare. “I missed you too, Y/N-ya, you know that.”

Laughing, you slid your hands to cup the back of their head. Fingertips gentle against the hair under their hat, you pulled them into a kiss. Their lips moved slowly against yours. Savoring you.

It would be a long time before they would allow you to leave again, plans be damned.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x reader #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #law x reader #law x yn #law x you #.jesterwrites

[pinksols]

07:46 pm: russian rhapsody — with jeonghan!

no warnings! just fluff. maybe mention of water + kissing. gn!reader. enjoy also pls let me know if it was nice to read???? this is just word vomit. ♡

but dear diary,

the thing you’ll mark in your memory for ever is when the sun hits his chocolate hair, and his eyes furthermore etch the pigment of coffee onto your figure and says, “yeah, but to me the most beautiful thing is how we are all heartbroken over the wrong people.”

a pause, “or how any element of the earth- any living matter has its way of engraving itself upon peoples hearts.” you both at this point sit in the (runabout) boat jeonghan made— surprised you with one afternoon after boasting about what noah did for allie in the notebook.

the (runabout) boat fabricated from jeonghans sweat, dedication and love for you. not forgetting the oakwood and blotches of faded pink paint that decorated the place in which you sat.

the lake adopts the swirling colours of mossy greens, outspoken blues and a breath of periwinkle. jeonghan makes your heart skip a beat, and your throat pulsate.

the sky reveals milky oranges and an array of rose tinted colours— all which match the colour of your heart, whenever in the presence of jeonghan. “we are habits of creature, jeonghan.”

“uh-huh? just like you’ll always belong to me?” somebody— the lily pad to your left or the charming frog to your right, needed to pinch you. “you’re still on that horse?”

jeonghan. jeonghan. jeonghan . you could say his name for the rest of your life. your own secret language, source of air, way of expression. “jeonghan. you put the moon in the sky for me— have i ever told you that?” you declare, laced with love out into the pink sky.

“before you, the water was just green. summer was just a season. the piano was just a stupid instrument. you put the blue in my life. in my heart.”

jeonghan drops the ores for a minute. submerged in disbelief- biting his lip to choke back the way he wanted to scream i love you a billion times over. he shifts even closer to you now, grasps your head gently with his hands till you can almost taste his lips.

till you’re almost eskimo kissing— your giggle was the reason jeonghan got out of bed everyday; the reason he found pleasure in the sunlight, and embraced it with open arms.

the guarantee of you in his life elevated the pink in the sky, and overrun the amber hue, that now swirled it’s way into that of a monet painting. the boat shakes at his stance, “hannie!” he smiles against your cheekbone.

the way your eyes dilate activate an entity within his heart that he can’t quite put his finger on. and the way you say his nickname sounds like one of the 13 angels greeting him to the highest stage of life.

to jeonghan, you are serenity and peace.

kiss—kiss—kiss. how could he have you for eternity? bargain with the koi fish at the bottom of the lake you’re placed upon? barter with the joker and exchange his tendencies to cheat in any parlor game?

the sky is burnt orange and the water you’re surrounded by mimics that. “oh?” he inquires, voice as deep as the sand channels that lead to the sea.

at his response your heart runs a mile from the comfort of a boat. how do you refrain from ascending? from evaporating— leaving nothing but pink ribbons infused with the scent of jeonghan behind?

© pinksols

#jeonghan x reader #seventeen fic recs #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #yoon jeonghan x you #jeonghan x you #seventeen fluff #fluff #kpop fanfic #svt fanfic #svt #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fic #seventeen fics #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines #jeonghan #svt scenarios

[apileofmoss]

RAHHH

#missing my brother hours :((( #this will be one of my only christmases without him! !! it will just be my + mom and dad + nana #he's not DEAD he's just deployedon a stupid freekin boat where i cant text him #<- not that we text that much anyways but #and its not a Huge change we haven't lived together since i was 7 because he lived with his dad but this is different #augh living far away from your sibling / only cool person in your family should be Illegal #mossy's mumblings #vent #<- jic

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Fight Back (Neffex)

Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?/I don’t give a damn if you say you disapprove/I’m gonna make my move/I’m gonna make it soon/And I’ll do it because it’s what I wanna fucking do

"Literally hits me so hard in the chest mate. The lyrics are soft of a slap in the face and just are so badass too"

Never Love An Anchor (The Crane Wives)

I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel/I am all the things they might have said to you/Do you ever think of me and my two hands/And wonder why they never soothed your fevers?/And wonder why they never tied your shoes?/And wonder why they never held you gently?/And wonder why they never had the chance to lose you?

"This song. this song is from the perspective of a parent, speaking to their child. about how they failed them, how they weren't there for them, out of fear of doing it wrong. they were an anchor to their child's ship, so they pulled away, and maybe they regret it now, but it's far too late. ALSO the guitar riff is meant to mimic the gentle rocking of a boat (or a parent's arms) and that shit has NEVER left my mind"

Fight Back submitted by @mossy-addison

#fuck you up bracket #tournament #polls #neffex #the crane wives

[portghost-dead-ace]

sanji, stomping over to a sleeping zoro: oi mossy! you smell like an onion.

zoro, opening one eye: the fuck is that supposed to mean, shitty cook?

sanji: ...it's not... that offensive to my nostrils, i guess.

zoro, cracking a smirk: eh? that mean you wanna cook and eat me then?

sanji, who had quickly jumped up and turned to gay jog into his kitchen away from the deck (and zoro) to hide his blushing cheeks: take a shower, shitty swordsman! other people live on this boat!

zoro: i'd rather be the one to eat YOU anyways.

sanji, still fleeing: FUCK YOU, MOSSHEAD

zoro, finally grinning: that's the plan, ya stupid love cook

#hi #inspired by gc #as usual #incorrect quote #one piece #incorrect one piece quotes #one piece incorrect quotes #zoro #sanji #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zosan #zoro x sanji #one piece zoro #one piece sanji #incorrect zosan #incorrect zosan quotes

[scotianostra]

9th December 1770 saw the birth of the poet and novelist James Hogg.

Hogg is primarily known today not only as the author of a series of pastoral poems, but also as the writer of the novel, Confessions of a Justified Sinner, widely regarded as the first piece of modern Scottish fiction.

A contrary figure in real life, Hogg almost bankrupted himself in attempts to be a successful shepherd - leading to his literary friends dubbing him "the Ettrick Shepherd".

There were two main strands to Hogg’s early cultural experience: folk traditions and religion. The family were church-goers and his father was an elder, while his mother was steeped in the oral tradition, relating to her children folk tales and songs of kings, knights and supernatural beings.

With no media ,as we know it back then Hogg would have listened reel off tales of Scottish history and legends as he was growing up. As a young man Hogg worked as a shepherd in Selkirkshire and Dumfriesshire, becoming interested in literature in his early twenties, when he attempted writing songs and poems, some of which were published in The Scots Magazine. He moved to Edinburgh in 1810 to pursue a career as a full-time man of letters, after having published poetry and non-fiction while maintaining his day-job as a shepherd. However, in 1813 he returned to Selkirkshire, where he lived and worked in the Duke of Buccleuch's Altrive Farm in Yarrow.

He continued to publish regularly while maintaining a contentious relationship with the Edinburgh literati, including his friend and some-time mentor, Walter Scott.

Many of Hogg's stories and poems appeared in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, or Maga as it was affectionately known.

Hogg continued to write, publish and farm until his death in 1835. He was buried in Ettrick Churchyard, appropriately next to his grandfather, Will o’ Phaup, who is reputed to have been the last man to converse with the fairies!

Among Hogg's most famous works was Jacobite Relics - originally commissioned by the Highland Society of London in 1817, it included Lament of Flora McDonald, sung here by Kenneth McKellar

Far over yon hills of the heather sae green An' doun by the corrie that sings to the sea, The bonnie young Flora sat sighin' her lane, The dew on her plaid an' the tear in her e'e. She look'd at a boat wi' the breezes that swung, Away on the wave like a bird on the main, An' aye as it lessen'd she sigh'd an' she sung, "Fareweel to the lad I shall ne'er see again; Fareweel to my hero, the gallant and young, Fareweel to the lad I shall ne'er see again."

The moorcock that crows on the brows o' Ben Connal, He kens o' his bed in a sweet mossy hame; The eagle that soars o'er the cliffs o' Clan Ranald, Unaw'd and unhunted his eyrie can claim; The solan can sleep on the shelves of the shore, The cormorant roost on his rock of the sea; But ah! there is one whose fate I deplore, Nor house, ha' nor hame in this country has he; The conflict is past, and our name is no more, There's nought left but sorrow for Scotland and me.

The target is torn from the arm of the just, The helmet is cleft on the brow of the brave; The claymore forever in darkness must rust, But red is the sword of the stranger and slave; The hoof of the horse, and the foot of the proud, Have trod o'er the plumes on the bonnet of blue; Why slept the red bolt in the breast of the cloud, When tyranny revell'd in blood of the true? Fareweel my young hero, the gallant and good, The crown of thy father's is torn from thy brow.

#scotland #scottish #makar #poet #writer #history #Youtube

[christiansorrell]

Play-By-Blog #4: The Isle by Luke Gearing

Welcome to my ongoing play-by-blog of The Isle by Luke Gearing! We are playing this adventure with its original system, The Vanilla Game (adjusted somewhat to fit the format). You can check out the Play-By-Blog Repository to get all caught up if you wish.

How Play-By-Blog works:

I write up the situation, NPCs, and more, just like a DM.

You vote in the poll to help decide the character's course of action.

I roll the dice, resolve actions, and write them up next week.

So on and so forth for the rest of the adventure!

Notation:

[Text in brackets is out-of-character/GM text!] "Non-italicized quotes denote text from the original adventure!" "Italicized quotations denotes NPC dialogue."

Our character: Medon Girou - Magic Cutpurse

Our map: The Isle

[You can use the link's above to find Medon's Character Sheet and map of the Isle. On the map, you are currently at 4.]

Now, back to the adventure!

The monk is the first person you've seen on the actual isle, other than that corpse back in the mossy cove. Best to follow him from afar, you think. They may only be monks, but Cioran made it pretty clear that can be wary of outsiders, especially uninvited ones. You lay down amongst the rubble you searched through earlier in the day and watch the monk on his stroll.

He heads north, generally in your direction and away from the monastery for some time, before turning west and heading down a well worn path heading towards the sea. At a point, he falls out of your view as the path descends. It's time to approach and quietly tail him, if you can.

You cautiously step down the raised rocky region and into the area of the lower path, steps carefully as you go [Dexterity Check: 8 - Success!]. You keep a good distance and the short cliffs at either side are full of pockets to hide yourself away in. The monk continues on his path.

Closer now, you are able to see the man is younger, younger that you expected any of the monks to be on a forgotten monastery like this. He's carrying a long, fairly fine fishing pole, using it as a walking stick as he travels towards the cove [B] along the western coast. He's singing a shanty to himself:

"Oh, poor old man your horse will die And we say so, and we know so Oh, poor old man your horse will die Oh, poor old man "We'll hoist him up to the main yardarm We'll hoist him up to the main yardarm "Say, I old man your horse will die Say, I old man your horse will die "We'll drop him down to the depths of the sea We'll drop him down to the bottom of the sea "We'll sing him down with a long, long roll Where the sharks'll have his body and the devil have have his soul!"

A surprising song to hear from a godly man such as this.

You continue to trail him for a time until he enters the built-out and well-kept cove. He walks past a stockpile of stones and down a set of carves stairs towards the water below.

"This shallow cove shows extensive signs of recent improvement—some stone removed and a wooden jetty installed. The stairs are worn, but notably clean."

The monks moves some crates near the end of the jetty, creating a makeshift chair and table. From out of his pocket, he pulls a small leather pouch filled with dirt.... no wait, there are worms among the dirt. He settles in for a long afternoon of fishing, humming a song.

There's little of note in the cove, other than its well-maintained state. You imagine this is where Ciaron pulled the boat in after dropping you off early this morning. Supplies for the monastery come to the island here, but they do not stay here.

[The next entry will be in 1 full week since I've done a few now in a shorter time frame than that, just to get things moving. Thanks for following along and taking part in the adventure so far! - Christian]

PBB #5 is up now HERE!

#meatcastle pbb #ttrpg #indie ttrpg #writing #fantasy #rpg #ttrpgs #luke gearing #osr #the isle #vanilla game #play by post #play by blog

[okapirose]

NEW YEAR NEW FIGURES

SHARK NUGGETS

Small sharks for your desk, shelf, dresser, boat, wherever you want to put them! Even in your pocket if you've got room.

This is Mossy Rock. They've been sitting in the woods for a spell but they're comfortable with their soft little moss patches.

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#shark #sharks #mossy rock #cottagecore #shark love #shark week #polymer clay figure #clay figure #art