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garnetea · 10 months

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elysian rain

who itachi uchiha x black! male y/n. length 3.7k words. byr mature/smut!, black male! reader, he/they pronouns, gay relationship obvi, fluff and smut, rainy date, pottery ouu, body kisses, some y/n praise, implied love making, and third person.

leman's letter! this shit was fun to write, it's just mad oldddd. this's a re-post and i’m still proud of it *wipes tears*; male reader representation!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ★

The weather was rudely unpredictable, choosing this lovely day to perform an obnoxious tantrum against Y/n and Itachi’s wide window panes. The sky was a clear shade of blue just this morning, the only feature to align with its welcoming color being the white smears of clouds and specs of flocking birds towards north. Though now those clouds were much less white than grey, and the once clear blue sky was nothing but a murky dark shade to reciprocate the dreary weather. So much for that cute picnic date the couple had planned. It was undoubtedly a dispiriting fact that they were forcibly stuck in this fuck ass apartment; disclosed from the damp air and muddy puddles encroaching the rest of the city.

“Mtch, Itachi?” Y/n called, rolling over on the couch with aggravation as he stretched. He faced his boyfriend, Itachi, from across the living room with a sigh of boredom. The dark haired man glanced up at him from where he was sitting, strings of hair escaping his respective ponytail and tickling the divine frame of his feminine features. In that peaceful spot by the window with his cozy rocking chair, a new novel he recently picked up laying idly on his covered lap.

“What is it, Y/n?” Itachi’s voice was similar to a mumble, being so far away, but Y/n could hear the usual gentle tone of his deep voice. His eyes were as attentive as always, analyzing Y/n’s annoyed expression and dramatic position laid out on the couch. From the way his limbs flopped over the arm and back of the furniture, it was clear that the cancellation of today’s romantic plans was wearing him down. He couldn’t even fish out the energy to shift across the coffee table and grab the remote. Instead, he laid there with nothing to stimulate him but the clashing of rain against the glass and the low rumbling of the dryer in the distant laundry room.

“What type of date is this, bro?” Y/n complained, dull disinterest teeming from his plain tone. It was painfully obvious that on such a dreary day there wasn’t much the couple could do, but damn was this nigga bored beyond recognition. He pondered on what happened to their neatly packed basket and folded polka dot blanket. The strawberries sprinkled in sugar and packed away in the fridge, and the expensive cheesecake he went to the trouble of buying. Was it all for nothing? No, they could reschedule for another day, without a doubt- but Y/n was still a bit vexed about the situation. “Man, at this point I’m boutta k-,”

“Y/n.” With a glare slimly present, he spoke- but Itachi did more than simply call out his lover’s name. As a follow up, he sighed and stood from his seat, stretching his arms out and placing his book neatly on the coffee table. The glittery feeling of responsibility to lighten your bitter mood seemed to have a hold on his actions. “I told you to stop kidding like that."

The knitted blanket once draped over his lap was in a bundled heap at his feet, and he held a relaxed demeanor as he stepped over it’s mountain-like appearance. Itachi then walked past the living room to the narrow hallway without another word, disappearing into the other side of the lavishly sized apartment. Though Y/n was too uninterested to get up and follow his boyfriends figure as he usually did, finding it unfavorable to act like a lost puppy on such an irritating day. All he wanted was to pamper Itachi for once, the man was always being the gentleman of the relationship. For once, Y/n wanted to be the one to hold open the door, or to make his plate for him. Of all days for a downpour to devour this glistening city of buildings and street lights, it just had to be today.

A few minutes later, Itachi’s presence had returned to Y/n’s active acknowledgment. His thin, well built figure had re-entered the room with an armful of familiar looking supplies. If Y/n couldn’t see the small Pottery wheel under Itachi’s arm, they would’ve still known what his boyfriend was planning to entertain him with. Simply because the nostalgic smell of clay was now prominently befalling against the once cream vanilla scented living room.

Rather than let Y/n ask any questions, Itachi proceeded to make his way back down the hall, returning a few more times with more pottery supplies. Y/n sat up on the couch, finding amusement in watching everything be prepared so neatly. The sheet beneath the table to prevent any messes, the needles and wooden modeling tools, they were all aligned in their respective places on the coffee table.

It wasn’t until everything was in order that Itachi finally decided to speak again, standing before Y/n with his thin hand stretched out to greet his lover. A hand that, of course, Y/n found no resistance in accepting; idiotic giggles escaping his tittering smile as he moved to the spot on the floor. "Today we can do pottery.” Itachi decided calmly, finding a comfortable seat beside you on the floor. “Then, tomorrow we can pick flowers to fill our vases. Alright?”

To say Y/n was congested with a sense of contentment and benevolent affection was a bit more than an understatement, though he did his best to remain composed. Other than the gratified smile protruding across his brown lips, they appeared to be primarily unfazed by their boyfriends kind actions. “That sounds nice, Itachi.” He agreed softly through their upturned lips, placing a hand over Itachi’s on the floor and leaning upwards with an obvious intent. Y/n pressed a feebly gentle kiss to Itachi’s cheek to express his appreciation, resisting the urge to tackle the man and instead shower him in butterfly kisses. Oh what an urge that was, but they did well to hold their composure as he added a genuine, “Thank you.” before leaning back into his respective spot.

Itachi closed his eyes in sweet acceptance, letting out a soft “Hm..” as he held no resistance against the gentle smile greeting his lonesome lips. In the back of his mind, he’d hoped his boyfriend would take this opportunity to douse every inch of his face with peppered kisses, as he usually would. He expected the orange sulfur and monarchs in the center of his slim stomach to expand and throw a fit, azalea and daffodil’s blossoming in his chest as they’d done when the men first met. In fact, he might’ve even been looking forward to it. But of course with little hesitation, he deemed this as being a bit needy, pushing his subconscious desires elsewhere. Itachi instead directed his attention to the navy blue pottery wheel in front of him, deciding it was paramount to not keep his beloved waiting.

Y/n watched in wait of some form of directions as Itachi took a grey piece of clay from the supplies, handing a palm sized chunk to Y/n and began forming his own into the necessary shape. Not knowing much about pottery himself, Y/n cleared his throat awkwardly and followed their boyfriends actions- taking it as a nonverbal instruction. Once both pieces of clay were in a gumdrop shape and the couple’s hands were besmeared with grey, Itachi plopped his on the wheel and began patting it down in order for it to stick to the center board. A necessary first step it seemed to be since he was sure to really hit the poor clay before he began modeling it into what would soon be a pot.

“Once I’m finished with mine, we can do yours.” He assured, taking notice of Y/n glancing at him and the wheel with clear uncertainty. Between his own lump of clay, Itachi’s, and the wheel, there was an ambivalent question mark stapled across his expression, and it didn’t take a genius to notice- although Itachi sure was one. Therefore, Itachi calmly reassured him with, “It won’t take long."

Though Y/n didn’t swallow this response as he intended him to. "No, no! You’re good, I just don’t want mine to dry before I start.” Y/n admitted genuinely. He figured if he didn’t make the block into something soon, it would dry and be harder to use- not to mention it would be wasteful. Regardless of his theories, he had no reason to fear. Itachi was experienced, this being his hobby and all, and knew well that it wouldn’t harden as long as some water was kept in contact. Therefore, he sped up the pottery wheel and dipped his hand in the nearby bucket of water before beginning the messy process of his masterpiece.

“If you keep your hands wet as you hold it, it won’t dry.” Itachi informed, holding his focus on the spiraling grey piece as it pulled its length up similarly to the extensive frame of a building. Y/n couldn’t even form a response as his attention found more interest in watching the satisfying build up of the smooth material, coating Itachi’s slender fingers with every change of shape. It transformed from a sphere to a tower, then it was flattened midway and given a hole in its center. It resembled an odd cup, or a stubby volcano, but somehow Y/n still found it more impressive than he let his unfazed facial expression let on.

Itachi found tranquility in his pottery, it could be referred to as something like his desired, irenic haven. Which would have to be why he found himself paying no mind to the compliments Y/n couldn’t help but adorn him in. It wasn’t until he heard the sweet adjective “pretty” that he tuned in, hoping he hadn’t missed anything vitally blush inducing while he was drowning in those imaginative thoughts of ceramics and porcelain.

“I mean, you look pretty too, but I’m talkin’ about the clay right now.” Y/n corrected himself, leaning in closer to get a better look at the details enveloping itachi’s fingers. The thick, viscid pieces of clay sticking and smearing across his fingers as he dug the two pointers into the middle of the block; spreading the spinning walls apart to make a wide opening as you’d see in a pot. Then, with one of the nearby sponges he’d brought out, Itachi began smoothing down the inside of the unfinished creation as well as the outside, pressing a bit harder on the petal so the wheel would spin at a temporarily accelerated pace. It was truly a satisfying process that made Y/n consider taking more interest in his boyfriends artistic hobby- though it was messy. This would have to be an activity solely for when his nails were bare and ready to be temporarily filthy, because goodness was it clinging to Itachi’s under nail like a star fish on glass.

Not long after he smoothed the sides and evened out the length, Itachi slowed the wheel down to an immediate halt. “Is.. Oh, that’s it?” Y/n asked with fascination, quickly tugging himself away from the dedicated entrance he found himself in.

Itachi told him that that indeed was it, it wasn’t too difficult a process; it simply takes practice to make a good piece. So with that, he quickly cleaned off the wheel with the sponge and peeked over at Y/n, awaiting some form of response. Maybe a “Ight, so it’s my turn now”, like he’d usually say, brimming with self confidence and natural optimism. Alas, there was nothing of the sort to greet Itachi’s sanguine expression, Y/n was as quiet as a mouse… It was apparent that his attention was held entirely too well during the process. So much that he didn’t hear the minor instructions Itachi had mumbled to him as he fixed the undeveloped pot. Hence the confusion on the man’s face as Itachi slid the pottery wheel towards him, expecting him to slap on his clay and get started.

“Itachi, you know I don’t know much about pottery…” Y/n began, pursing his lips and glancing between the wheel and their boyfriend’s deadpanned expression. Itachi didn’t even bother forming a response, he refused to repeat himself simply because Y/n wasn’t as attentive as he should’ve been. When the awkward silence became entirely too much to bare, Y/n simply said “fuck it” and slapped the clay on the center of the wheel. “Now don’t be mad if mine looks better than yours, shit just comes naturally."

Such confidence was almost comedic, the man clearly didn’t have a thorough understanding of what he was doing. Slightly pushing on the petal before lifting back off when the quick acceleration caught him off guard. Had they forgotten how they attentively observed Itachi follow each step within the past six minutes? Surely that must’ve been the case, because by now Itachi was sighing as a way to cope with the horridly taunting chuckle threatening to befall his pretty lips.

Without a word to announce his next course of action, Itachi adjusted from his respective seat at Y/n’s left; instead, moving to the back of the man’s struggling figure. "Come on, Y/n. Were you not watching?” Itachi inquired calmly and knowingly against Y/n’s neck, leaning his chest against his back and innocently pressing his covered crotch to his boyfriends ass. Of course, this was genuine innocence, he was only placing his knees on either side of his boyfriend’s calves in order to help him make this pot. He was in no way trying to provoke anything sexual. If anything, he was promoting a moment of intimate romance in replacement of today’s scheduled picnic, the weather being so intrusive and all. Though regardless of his motives, the position was clearly a bit… less than decent, or at least less than “innocent”. And Y/n wasn’t a dense dumbass, he knew quite well what this looked like- or rather what this felt like.

He managed to clear his throat and re-dip his hands in the bucket of water along with Itachi, swearing that he was paying attention. He was just a bit forgetful that was all. The exact details seemed to slip his mind, replacing his vital memories with the pale details of Itachi’s clay covered finger tips and palms. Though he’d be too awkward and embarrassed to openly confess this to Itachi, the reason as to why he knew not a thing about how to start this shit. Therefore, he decided to simply move on and let Itachi show him the ropes.

It was a gentle, warm feeling- almost ticklish, and surely sensually memorable, as Itachi maneuvered his arms to comfortably guide Y/n’s fingers around the thick clay. Both hands drenched in water, the droplets landing on the surface below as it began to accelerate and rotate in place. The low whirl it vibrating through the air wasn’t as relevant or noticeable as a fly when Y/n had this fluttering feeling contorting through his abdomen. Delicate panzica and rare begonia building up in the pit of his stomach before blossoming politely in his amiable chest. Itachi’s fingers were soft and slender as they linked with Y/n’s, and both of them- or more Y/n than Itachi- were doing their utmost best to remain composed regardless of the warmly heart rate surging contact. The constant shifting in place, Y/n squeezing his thighs together with an awkward sense of sexual anticipation and intimacy draping itself naturally around his fuzzed head space.

“Am I- Uh, we doin’ it right?” Y/n inquired, mentally cussing at himself for stumbling so doltishly over his simple question. He was just too focused on the gliding of Itachi’s fingers between his, so much that he struggled to piece together audibly literate words. The delicate interlacing of their skin with the wet clay, only interrupting the messy labyrinth to dip their hands in more room temp water. It was impossibly euphoric and held no effort in encasing Y/n’s rib cage with silky cirrus and suffocating cumulus.

Itachi was extremely talented, it was obvious that he knew what he was doing, especially when it came to art. Nevertheless, he responded to his boyfriends query, simply because it was considered rude not to. Not to mention that he too was beginning to sense the desperate shared heat for sexual pleasure, but was striving with every morally correct thought to deny such impulses. Today was meant to be purely peaceful and virtuously winsome; containing nothing as inappropriate as what his intricate subconscious was concocting.

“Yes, you’re doing just fine, Y/n. Shape it with my hands, like this.” Itachi replied in what felt like a butterfly’s hushed tone. His lips unintentionally tickled Y/n’s shoulder as he spoke, the bare brown skin slipping desperately from the white tee all on its own. Tempting and taunting Itachi like a pretty Rosary Pea, one he knew he shouldn’t touch for it was doused in sweet beguiling poison. The bottom line of reality is that no man is perfect, and this naturally charming person sitting before Itachi was indeed, if nothing else, his. Who was he to deny himself such gestures for someone he desperately adored and, in fact, was his? Thus, when he suddenly lost interest in maintaining pressure on the acceleration pedal, and when he finally grew bored of this growing tension between the two warm bodies, no one could blame him for how his hands ventured bluntly up Y/n’s shirt. The smears of cold clay on the other male’s torso and chest surprising them, a soft gasp escaping their lips brimming with staggering pleasure and satisfaction.

Itachi discarded all of his care and consideration for his boyfriend’s clean tee shirt. He found no time to go wash his hands first, surely Y/n would understand that he held more value than a simple tee shirt. That he, unlike the cotton material, held needs and wants and elysian desires. Especially since this was out of complete adoration and affection for his beloved boyfriend, the one he loved with every piece of him.

Without a word, Itachi gently placed his lips onto Y/n’s naturally warm shoulder, fluttering sensitive kisses across the soft brown skin before him. His eyelashes tickling just at their blade, sending teasing butterflies through their chest and stomach, the parts of him that had already blossomed with fondness for Itachi’s sudden change in action.

“Itachi?.. You alright?” He asked, in a silky tone of honey dewed benevolence. He was informed that Itachi was more than alright from the way he exhaled through his nose in response, light breaths warming Y/n’s goosebump traced skin. Though still, he expected a response even as Itachi found it imperative to gently dig his finger tips into the skin of Y/n’s abdomen; gliding the slender digits across the skin with a scintilla of tranquility gifted by clouds. His kisses only became more sensual and- dare one be honest- messy as Y/n moved their neck to the side in amusement. Both sets of eye lids flutter in acceptance to these emotions, impure and all, as the poisonous flowers of Rosary Pea and Oleander dominate their united and scandalously intimate actions.

“I don’t mean to act so intrusively..” Itachi noted in an apologetic voice, though he still failed to reduce the actions of his clay drenched fingers across Y/n’s skin. The impulsive suggestions his head- or maybe his crotch, were tempting him to continue couldn’t be explained well with words. Which gives reason to why he didn’t bother, he simply did; and Y/n found no urge to stop befalling his current state. His only responses were the gasps of breath he fell into, and agape lips he licked between those inhales and exhales.

Two warm bodies, delicate fingers tracing Y/n’s skin with care, Itachi’s lips suctioning lightly despite being heavily drenched with addictive inhales and delicate saliva. Before Y/n knew it, he was spewing noises he didn’t know could escape his chest so facilely. Noises that even Itachi, as attentive and intuitive as he was, didn’t expect to greet him so tactlessly. Mere milliseconds later, those same muffled sounds were persuading Y/n’s hands to find Itachi’s, reenacting the intertwining of their messy fingers as they’d recently connected between the forgotten lump of clay. Without shame or caution, he guides Itachi’s palm further past his torso. Pressing it towards the growing distraction in his pajama pants, which clung to his milk chocolate brown hips with little to no responsibility; exposing his v line more with every pitiful air hump he commits.

Y/n mumbles in an affable, sultry tone beyond the suppressed moans and exhales of his built up arousal. “Whatever’s gotten into you today..” Before moving his unoccupied hand to Itachi’s sweatpant covered thigh, holding a firm grip on it as he hears his lover’s lips unclasp from his abused and drenched shoulder. Neither of them release his hands, nor their positions, as Y/n skews his line of vision to Itachi’s expression; light spurs of rose petal pink prickling and glistening across the man’s light cheeks and the tip of his nose. Y/n dares to speak while analyzing, in awe, such a gloriously handsome- no, divine front, and his lips curl into what one would call a grin as he leans in impossibly closer. “Don’t stop.”

And at that moment, as the never ending downpour imprisoning the glistening city in murky puddles finally came to a close, Y/n and Itachi found themselves in an artistically divine portrait of doves and pearly whites. Clinging to one another desperately as they passionately shared their pure adoration and seraphic, intimate reverence for one another. Smears of clay and forgotten boredom confining the two men to sloppy kisses and unfeigned compliments. A sweet “Handsome” and an irrepressible “I love you” lugging the acts of intimacy to a solar level of buoyant roses and vanilla extract. Even Aphrodite herself found it imperative to simper and fan herself, for these two were so terribly enveloped in one another’s features of perfection, it was adorably laughable. It seems one could presume that sometimes the convivial things in life aren’t derived from the long-winded, tedious plans we construct. Maybe it’s stupidly less arduous to find pleasure in creating a pot- preferably with Itachi Uchiha on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

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ruanbaijie · 6 months

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🥕 art

[x] pretty cat by @tehijo-mtch

[x] satosugu by @vellatrelle

[x] deal with the devil by @cokalee

[x] crumbling by @sayatsugu

[x] the magician by @sumeriasmith

[x] link click s2 opening by @yuumei-art

[x] wings of pages by @yuumei-art

[x] inukoko 1 by @honeybreqd

[x] inukoko 2 by @honeybreqd

[x] aziraphale by @mistysblueboxstuff

[x] death by @lutszu

[x] yiling laozu with white hair by @lutszu

[x] decora x qing dynasty fashion bash by @xrnoodle

[x] premature end by @3-aem

[x] a nameless fish stripped of its scales by @planetsandmagic

[x] satoru, we need to dispose of the body by @irafook

🥕 edits

[x] happy jimmy day by @morkofday

[x] revenant by @rotblut

[x] yoon sae bom & jung yi hyun by @dead-end-street

🥕 gifsets

[x] happy haikyuu day by @nijimurasx

[x] stranger things ladies appreciation week favourite character by @ayoedebiris

[x] love between fairy and devil by @gusucloud

[x] run boy run by @hargreevcs

[x] yennefer of vengerberg in dark2light purplepeach by @yenvengerberg

[x] great houses of westeros in hotd s1 by @lady-arryn

[x] house targaryen by @padme-amidala

[x] the teachers by @jodielandons

[x] "it" + the personification of the wilderness by @taiturner

[x] once more, with feeling by @cal-kestis

[x] red, white and royal blue by @maxinesminx

[x] good omens s2 by @meliorn

[x] nawin, charn and tinn + chess pieces by @spicyvampire

[x] ted lasso by @trentcrimminallybeautiful

[x] vhagar and her riders by @zoya-nazyalenskys

[x] edmund pevensie by @maliagf

[x] anakin skywalker by @haydanakin

[x] spirited away + trivia by @kimdokjas

[x] I wanna go home by @xinxiaojie

[x] nam seon ho & seo hwi in mctna + their physical & emotional healing journey by @seamayweed

[x] crowley & aziraphale by @cobbbvanth

[x] lestat... you must think me an idiot by @fayevalcntine

[x] sandray by @khaotunqs

[x] ray pakorn by @khaotunqs

[x] izzy hands by @seance

[x] morgana pendragon + villainous tropes by @eddiediaaz

🥕 gifsets (part 2)

[x] tantai jin by @kimmomi

[x] sebastian valtor by @skloomdumpster

[x] robin buckley + favourite tropes by @robin-buckely

#*shoutouts #creator shoutout #wdym we only have 2 months left of 2023

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materialgworlas · 11 months

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Revenge- Jujutsu Kaisen Cast X Reader part 1

Synopsis: You aint been too happy ab Toji getting kicked out the group chat so decide to make Emogumi and the others pay.

This post was so fun to make with @jordanahart bsf lysmmm and instead of 'Y/n' we used 'Jordan' as my lil gift to her but feel free to sub in your own name

Warning: mild language, Gojo's a jealous mess, u n Toji causing mayhem, Megumi 13th reason

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

BEEP

BEE-

What the- an alarm? Who the hell put this here?? I didn’t peg Toji for an alarm kinda guy… but then again there’s a whole lot I don’t know about him. I guess that’s why Gojo thought it best to ship me off to stay with him for the week while my dorm is being fumigated.

Megumi sighed as he sat up, lazily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The boy heard a faint commotion coming from the kitchen before the overwhelming smell of eggs and bacon filled his senses.

Smells good, didn’t know the guy could cook. Megumi thought as he tumbled out the bed.

He was confused to find Toji in the living room though, sprawled on the couch watching the Maury show a boisterous laugh escaped the man as dumb ass debby made a run for it when Miguel was declared NOT the father. “GET HER!” he continued laughing, enjoying the hilarious chase between her and the camera man, almost tearing up as the video became blurrier from all the running.

The teenage-sorcerer just stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, finding irony in TOJI laughing at this show, of all people. “Oh hey kid.” The man grunted, finally noticing the boy’s presence.

“Hey.” He greeted back, “what’s Cooking?”

“Dunno, ask.”

The boy scoffed at his father before padding to the kitchen, assuming it was some fancy Maid Gojo hired.

“Oh hey emogumi.”

“Jord-.”

WAIT WHY THE FUCK IS JORDAN HERE?!??!

NO, GOD NO! THIS ISNT HAPPENING! THIS IS JUST LIKE THAT NIGHTMARE I HAD 2 WEEKS AGO- wait. Im probably overreacting. I’m sure there’s a good reason JORDAN- MY CLASSMATE OBSESSED WITH MY FATHER- is here, I hope.

“Mtch, quit staring n hand me that towel.” Her words snapped him out of his daze.

“The hell are you doing here L/n.” Megumi huffed, slinging her the towel.

“Makin breakfast dumbass.” She laughed, fluttering passed him to reach the pantry.

“Right, why tho.”

“well I mean, have u SEEN Toji cook?! Total carnage. And don’t get me started on actually TASTING IT-“

“Okay, we get it. I’m useless in the kitchen.” Toji cut her off with a sigh, ruffling her hair making Jordan let out a girly giggle Megumi could only gag at.

“Well it’s a good thing you’re not useless at alota other things-“

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE-

“Ay Emogumi, u brush your teeth?” Jordan spoke again

“Huh-“

“EEEWWW you NASTY mf. Go-on n do it now before you eat breakfast.” She tsked

“i-“

“You should listen to your- I mean, Jordan.” Toji said

Speechless, Megumi quietly made his way up the stairs.

“N make sure you air out yo room. whole place was MUSTY when I put yo alarm there.”

“That was you?!” He yelped from up the stairs

As Megumi sulked back down the stairs, the sound of giggling in the living room made his heart drop, the young sorcerer stopped just short of the entrance.

Come on Fushiguro, you’ve faced worse than this; Thousand-year-old curses, Gojo’s goth era- there’s nothing Jordan can do which would be worse than seeing that grown man in black lipstick and eye make-up wailing nirvana around the campus-

“mtch you just gonna stand there emogumi?” Jordan raised an eyebrow to her classmate standing in the hallway, a distant look in his eyes.

As his eyes met hers the boy’s mind went blank. OH GOD WHAT THE HELL IS SHE DOING!??!?! ITS WORSE, ITS WORSE. THIS IS SO MUCH WORSE. A hot shoot of blood sprang from the boy’s nose looking at the unholy sight of Jordan on Toji’s lap with her hands under his shirt.

“You alright kid?” the older man grunted, a little disturbed by the wild look in his eyes, though he was only responded with silence. The pair chose to ignore the boy, focusing on how debby was now tryna pick a fight with Miguel’s girlfriend on the Maury show.

They didn’t notice the flash of Megumi’s phone as he took a picture and sent it to the group chat.

taglist: @gloryous51 @absoluteindulgence @platonictoad @chichimisaki @hoohoohope @callmekda @shuxjodie @stuff101 @ascybous @hoe42dmen @aziwa-s-wife @lady-cryptstone

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justafeeling · 2 months

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rediscovering tumblr has been so mtch fun

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h-doodles · 4 months

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i need to finish editing the rl emojicord so i can invite the gangs and stans AND MEOW with them but i also need to make the emojis to mtch everything and bc this was truly just a personal discord server for the blorbos emojis bc now i absolutely. need a gc fr. but like. what abt the moderation?? im too fucking sleepy and tired to manage anything so like. what if putting the meow meows into a gc will devolve into a fight. what is the war actually happens. help im just a lil meow meow fr im!!!! <- literally me rn btw. while constructing a response to the donna gang meowing on the post <3

#i am but small and conflicted. miranda save me. miranda. save me miranda.#personal.txt #i have the barebones of a discord server. but the indecision to turn it to a functioning group chat and moderate paralyzes me #BUT N E WAYS. LETS SEE ONCE AGAIN WHEN I AWAKEN.#resident lover #RL emojicord

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ac1dl4v3 · 2 years

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elysian rain.

who . . itachi uchiha x male y/n

length . . 3.7k words!

byr . . mature/smut!, black male! reader, he/they pronouns, gay relationship obvi, fluff and smut, rainy date, pottery ouu, body kisses, some y/n praise, implied love making, third person, this shit was fun to write-i'm so proud of it *wipes tears*, male reader representation yess!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ★

𝒯he weather was rudely unpredictable, choosing this lovely day to perform an obnoxious tantrum against Y/n and Itachi's wide window panes. The sky was a clear shade of blue just this morning, the only feature to align with its welcoming color being the white smears of clouds and specs of flocking birds towards north. Though now those clouds were much less white than grey, and the once clear blue sky was nothing but a murky dark shade to reciprocate the dreary weather. So much for that cute picnic date the couple had planned. It was undoubtedly a dispiriting fact that they were forcibly stuck in this fuck ass apartment; disclosed from the damp air and muddy puddles encroaching the rest of the city.

"Mtch, Itachi?" Y/n called, rolling over on the couch with aggravation as he stretched. He faced his boyfriend, Itachi, from across the living room with a sigh of boredom. The dark haired man glanced up at him from where he was sitting, strings of hair escaping his respective ponytail and tickling the divine frame of his feminine features. In that peaceful spot by the window with his cozy rocking chair, a new novel he recently picked up laying idly on his covered lap

"What is it, Y/n?" Itachi's voice was similar to a mumble, being so far away, but Y/n could hear the usual gentle tone of his deep voice. His eyes were as attentive as always, analyzing Y/n's annoyed expression and dramatic position laid out on the couch. From the way his limbs flopped over the arm and back of the furniture, it was clear that the cancellation of today's romantic plans was wearing him down. He couldn't even fish out the energy to shift across the coffee table and grab the remote. Instead, he laid there with nothing to stimulate him but the clashing of rain against the glass and the low rumbling of the dryer in the distant laundry room.

"What type of date is this, bro?" Y/n complained, dull disinterest teeming from his plain tone. It was painfully obvious that on such a dreary day there wasn't much the couple could do, but damn was this nigga bored beyond recognition. He pondered on what happened to their neatly packed basket and folded polka dot blanket. The strawberries sprinkled in sugar and packed away in the fridge, and the expensive cheesecake he went to the trouble of buying. Was it all for nothing? No, they could reschedule for another day, without a doubt- but Y/n was still a bit vexed about the situation. "Man, at this point I'm boutta k-,"

"Y/n." With a glare slimly present, he spoke- but Itachi did more than simply call out his lover's name. As a follow up, he sighed and stood from his seat, stretching his arms out and placing his book neatly on the coffee table. The glittery feeling of responsibility to lighten your bitter mood seemed to have a hold on his actions. "I told you to stop kidding like that."

The knitted blanket once draped over his lap was in a bundled heap at his feet, and he held a relaxed demeanor as he stepped over it's mountain-like appearance. Itachi then walked past the living room to the narrow hallway without another word, disappearing into the other side of the lavishly sized apartment. Though Y/n was too uninterested to get up and follow his boyfriends figure as he usually did, finding it unfavorable to act like a lost puppy on such an irritating day. All he wanted was to pamper Itachi for once, the man was always being the gentleman of the relationship. For once, Y/n wanted to be the one to hold open the door, or to make his plate for him. Of all days for a downpour to devour this glistening city of buildings and street lights, it just had to be today.

A few minutes later, Itachi's presence had returned to Y/n's active acknowledgment. His thin, well built figure had re-entered the room with an armful of familiar looking supplies. If Y/n couldn't see the small Pottery wheel under Itachi's arm, they would've still known what his boyfriend was planning to entertain him with. Simply because the nostalgic smell of clay was now prominently befalling against the once cream vanilla scented living room.

It wasn't until everything was in order that Itachi finally decided to speak again, standing before Y/n with his thin hand stretched out to greet his lover. A hand that, of course, Y/n found no resistance in accepting; idiotic giggles escaping his tittering smile as he moved to the spot on the floor. "Today we can do pottery." Itachi decided calmly, finding a comfortable seat beside you on the floor. "Then, tomorrow we can pick flowers to fill our vases. Alright?"

To say Y/n was congested with a sense of contentment and benevolent affection was a bit more than an understatement, though he did his best to remain composed. Other than the gratified smile protruding across his brown lips, they appeared to be primarily unfazed by their boyfriends kind actions. "That sounds nice, Itachi." He agreed softly through their upturned lips, placing a hand over Itachi's on the floor and leaning upwards with an obvious intent. Y/n pressed a feebly gentle kiss to Itachi's cheek to express his appreciation, resisting the urge to tackle the man and instead shower him in butterfly kisses. Oh what an urge that was, but they did well to hold their composure as he added a genuine, "Thank you." before leaning back into his respective spot.

Itachi closed his eyes in sweet acceptance, letting out a soft "Hm.." as he held no resistance against the gentle smile greeting his lonesome lips. In the back of his mind, he'd hoped his boyfriend would take this opportunity to douse every inch of his face with peppered kisses, as he usually would. He expected the orange sulfur and monarchs in the center of his slim stomach to expand and throw a fit, azalea and daffodil's blossoming in his chest as they'd done when the men first met. In fact, he might've even been looking forward to it. But of course with little hesitation, he deemed this as being a bit needy, pushing his subconscious desires elsewhere. Itachi instead directed his attention to the navy blue pottery wheel in front of him, deciding it was paramount to not keep his beloved waiting.

Y/n watched in wait of some form of directions as Itachi took a grey piece of clay from the supplies, handing a palm sized chunk to Y/n and began forming his own into the necessary shape. Not knowing much about pottery himself, Y/n cleared his throat awkwardly and followed their boyfriends actions- taking it as a nonverbal instruction. Once both pieces of clay were in a gumdrop shape and the couple's hands were besmeared with grey, Itachi plopped his on the wheel and began patting it down in order for it to stick to the center board. A necessary first step it seemed to be since he was sure to really hit the poor clay before he began modeling it into what would soon be a pot.

"Once I'm finished with mine, we can do yours." He assured, taking notice of Y/n glancing at him and the wheel with clear uncertainty. Between his own lump of clay, Itachi's, and the wheel, there was an ambivalent question mark stapled across his expression, and it didn't take a genius to notice- although Itachi sure was one. Therefore, Itachi calmly reassured him with, "It won't take long."

Though Y/n didn't swallow this response as he intended him to. "No, no! You're good, I just don't want mine to dry before I start." Y/n admitted genuinely. He figured if he didn't make the block into something soon, it would dry and be harder to use- not to mention it would be wasteful. Regardless of his theories, he had no reason to fear. Itachi was experienced, this being his hobby and all, and knew well that it wouldn't harden as long as some water was kept in contact. Therefore, he sped up the pottery wheel and dipped his hand in the nearby bucket of water before beginning the messy process of his masterpiece.

"If you keep your hands wet as you hold it, it won't dry." Itachi informed, holding his focus on the spiraling grey piece as it pulled its length up similarly to the extensive frame of a building. Y/n couldn't even form a response as his attention found more interest in watching the satisfying build up of the smooth material, coating Itachi's slender fingers with every change of shape. It transformed from a sphere to a tower, then it was flattened midway and given a hole in its center. It resembled an odd cup, or a stubby volcano, but somehow Y/n still found it more impressive than he let his unfazed facial expression let on.

Itachi found tranquility in his pottery, it could be referred to as something like his desired, irenic haven. Which would have to be why he found himself paying no mind to the compliments Y/n couldn't help but adorn him in. It wasn't until he heard the sweet adjective "pretty" that he tuned in, hoping he hadn't missed anything vitally blush inducing while he was drowning in those imaginative thoughts of ceramics and porcelain.

"I mean, you look pretty too, but I'm talkin' about the clay right now." Y/n corrected himself, leaning in closer to get a better look at the details enveloping itachi's fingers. The thick, viscid pieces of clay sticking and smearing across his fingers as he dug the two pointers into the middle of the block; spreading the spinning walls apart to make a wide opening as you'd see in a pot. Then, with one of the nearby sponges he'd brought out, Itachi began smoothing down the inside of the unfinished creation as well as the outside, pressing a bit harder on the petal so the wheel would spin at a temporarily accelerated pace. It was truly a satisfying process that made Y/n consider taking more interest in his boyfriends artistic hobby- though it was messy. This would have to be an activity solely for when his nails were bare and ready to be temporarily filthy, because goodness was it clinging to Itachi's under nail like a star fish on glass.

Not long after he smoothed the sides and evened out the length, Itachi slowed the wheel down to an immediate halt. "Is.. Oh, that's it?" Y/n asked with fascination, quickly tugging himself away from the dedicated entrance he found himself in.

Itachi told him that that indeed was it, it wasn't too difficult a process; it simply takes practice to make a good piece. So with that, he quickly cleaned off the wheel with the sponge and peeked over at Y/n, awaiting some form of response. Maybe a "Ight, so it's my turn now", like he'd usually say, brimming with self confidence and natural optimism. Alas, there was nothing of the sort to greet Itachi's sanguine expression, Y/n was as quiet as a mouse... It was apparent that his attention was held entirely too well during the process. So much that he didn't hear the minor instructions Itachi had mumbled to him as he fixed the undeveloped pot. Hence the confusion on the man's face as Itachi slid the pottery wheel towards him, expecting him to slap on his clay and get started.

"Itachi, you know I don't know much about pottery..." Y/n began, pursing his lips and glancing between the wheel and their boyfriend's deadpanned expression. Itachi didn't even bother forming a response, he refused to repeat himself simply because Y/n wasn't as attentive as he should've been. When the awkward silence became entirely too much to bare, Y/n simply said "fuck it" and slapped the clay on the center of the wheel. "Now don't be mad if mine looks better than yours, shit just comes naturally."

Such confidence was almost comedic, the man clearly didn't have a thorough understanding of what he was doing. Slightly pushing on the petal before lifting back off when the quick acceleration caught him off guard. Had they forgotten how they attentively observed Itachi follow each step within the past six minutes? Surely that must've been the case, because by now Itachi was sighing as a way to cope with the horridly taunting chuckle threatening to befall his pretty lips.

Without a word to announce his next course of action, Itachi adjusted from his respective seat at Y/n's left; instead, moving to the back of the man's struggling figure. "Come on, Y/n. Were you not watching?" Itachi inquired calmly and knowingly against Y/n's neck, leaning his chest against his back and innocently pressing his covered crotch to his boyfriends ass. Of course, this was genuine innocence, he was only placing his knees on either side of his boyfriend's calves in order to help him make this pot. He was in no way trying to provoke anything sexual. If anything, he was promoting a moment of intimate romance in replacement of today's scheduled picnic, the weather being so intrusive and all. Though regardless of his motives, the position was clearly a bit... less than decent, or at least less than "innocent". And Y/n wasn't a dense dumbass, he knew quite well what this looked like- or rather what this felt like.

He managed to clear his throat and re-dip his hands in the bucket of water along with Itachi, swearing that he was paying attention. He was just a bit forgetful that was all. The exact details seemed to slip his mind, replacing his vital memories with the pale details of Itachi's clay covered finger tips and palms. Though he'd be too awkward and embarrassed to openly confess this to Itachi, the reason as to why he knew not a thing about how to start this shit. Therefore, he decided to simply move on and let Itachi show him the ropes.

It was a gentle, warm feeling- almost ticklish, and surely sensually memorable, as Itachi maneuvered his arms to comfortably guide Y/n's fingers around the thick clay. Both hands drenched in water, the droplets landing on the surface below as it began to accelerate and rotate in place. The low whirl it vibrating through the air wasn't as relevant or noticeable as a fly when Y/n had this fluttering feeling contorting through his abdomen. Delicate panzica and rare begonia building up in the pit of his stomach before blossoming politely in his amiable chest. Itachi's fingers were soft and slender as they linked with Y/n's, and both of them- or more Y/n than Itachi- were doing their utmost best to remain composed regardless of the warmly heart rate surging contact. The constant shifting in place, Y/n squeezing his thighs together with an awkward sense of sexual anticipation and intimacy draping itself naturally around his fuzzed head space.

"Am I- Uh, we doin' it right?" Y/n inquired, mentally cussing at himself for stumbling so doltishly over his simple question. He was just too focused on the gliding of Itachi's fingers between his, so much that he struggled to piece together audibly literate words. The delicate interlacing of their skin with the wet clay, only interrupting the messy labyrinth to dip their hands in more room temp water. It was impossibly euphoric and held no effort in encasing Y/n's rib cage with silky cirrus and suffocating cumulus.

"Yes, you're doing just fine, Y/n. Shape it with my hands, like this." Itachi replied in what felt like a butterfly's hushed tone. His lips unintentionally tickled Y/n's shoulder as he spoke, the bare brown skin slipping desperately from the white tee all on its own. Tempting and taunting Itachi like a pretty Rosary Pea, one he knew he shouldn't touch for it was doused in sweet beguiling poison. The bottom line of reality is that no man is perfect, and this naturally charming person sitting before Itachi was indeed, if nothing else, his. Who was he to deny himself such gestures for someone he desperately adored and, in fact, was his? Thus, when he suddenly lost interest in maintaining pressure on the acceleration pedal, and when he finally grew bored of this growing tension between the two warm bodies, no one could blame him for how his hands ventured bluntly up Y/n's shirt. The smears of cold clay on the other male's torso and chest surprising them, a soft gasp escaping their lips brimming with staggering pleasure and satisfaction.

Itachi discarded all of his care and consideration for his boyfriend's clean tee shirt. He found no time to go wash his hands first, surely Y/n would understand that he held more value than a simple tee shirt. That he, unlike the cotton material, held needs and wants and elysian desires. Especially since this was out of complete adoration and affection for his beloved boyfriend, the one he loved with every piece of him.

Without a word, Itachi gently placed his lips onto Y/n's naturally warm shoulder, fluttering sensitive kisses across the soft brown skin before him. His eyelashes tickling just at their blade, sending teasing butterflies through their chest and stomach, the parts of him that had already blossomed with fondness for Itachi's sudden change in action.

"Itachi?.. You alright?" He asked, in a silky tone of honey dewed benevolence. He was informed that Itachi was more than alright from the way he exhaled through his nose in response, light breaths warming Y/n's goosebump traced skin. Though still, he expected a response even as Itachi found it imperative to gently dig his finger tips into the skin of Y/n's abdomen; gliding the slender digits across the skin with a scintilla of tranquility gifted by clouds. His kisses only became more sensual and- dare one be honest- messy as Y/n moved their neck to the side in amusement. Both sets of eye lids flutter in acceptance to these emotions, impure and all, as the poisonous flowers of Rosary Pea and Oleander dominate their united and scandalously intimate actions.

"I don't mean to act so intrusively.." Itachi noted in an apologetic voice, though he still failed to reduce the actions of his clay drenched fingers across Y/n's skin. The impulsive suggestions his head- or maybe his crotch, were tempting him to continue couldn't be explained well with words. Which gives reason to why he didn't bother, he simply did; and Y/n found no urge to stop befalling his current state. His only responses were the gasps of breath he fell into, and agape lips he licked between those inhales and exhales.

Two warm bodies, delicate fingers tracing Y/n's skin with care, Itachi's lips suctioning lightly despite being heavily drenched with addictive inhales and delicate saliva. Before Y/n knew it, he was spewing noises he didn't know could escape his chest so facilely. Noises that even Itachi, as attentive and intuitive as he was, didn't expect to greet him so tactlessly. Mere milliseconds later, those same muffled sounds were persuading Y/n's hands to find Itachi's, reenacting the intertwining of their messy fingers as they'd recently connected between the forgotten lump of clay. Without shame or caution, he guides Itachi's palm further past his torso. Pressing it towards the growing distraction in his pajama pants, which clung to his milk chocolate brown hips with little to no responsibility; exposing his v line more with every pitiful air hump he commits.

Y/n mumbles in an affable, sultry tone beyond the suppressed moans and exhales of his built up arousal. "Whatever's gotten into you today.." Before moving his unoccupied hand to Itachi's sweatpant covered thigh, holding a firm grip on it as he hears his lover's lips unclasp from his abused and drenched shoulder. Neither of them release his hands, nor their positions, as Y/n skews his line of vision to Itachi's expression; light spurs of rose petal pink prickling and glistening across the man's light cheeks and the tip of his nose. Y/n dares to speak while analyzing, in awe, such a gloriously handsome- no, divine front, and his lips curl into what one would call a grin as he leans in impossibly closer. "Don't stop."

And at that moment, as the never ending downpour imprisoning the glistening city in murky puddles finally came to a close, Y/n and Itachi found themselves in an artistically divine portrait of doves and pearly whites. Clinging to one another desperately as they passionately shared their pure adoration and seraphic, intimate reverence for one another. Smears of clay and forgotten boredom confining the two men to sloppy kisses and unfeigned compliments. A sweet "Handsome" and an irrepressible "I love you" lugging the acts of intimacy to a solar level of buoyant roses and vanilla extract. Even Aphrodite herself found it imperative to simper and fan herself, for these two were so terribly enveloped in one another's features of perfection, it was adorably laughable. It seems one could presume that sometimes the convivial things in life aren't derived from the long-winded, tedious plans we construct. Maybe it's stupidly less arduous to find pleasure in creating a pot- preferably with Itachi Uchiha on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

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